#hashtag work the boots house down

[kleyamarki]

i will never financially recover from this (surgery physical therapy summer class)

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i’m normally an islanders girly, but i have a soft spot for svech, especially after the horrible news of his acl injury 🥺 honestly have no idea where this came from except i saw one of @ryanpulock ‘s anons mention taking care of svech after an injury, so here we go! entirely unedited because i hate rereading my own work lol

tw: smut, gratuitous and potentially wrong use of russian terms of endearment

summary: you want to take care of andrei a little after he gets a cut on his thigh.

The text from Jordan - “Don’t worry, he’s fine” - would be concerning on it’s own, but when it’s followed-up approximately ten minutes later with a text from Andrei - “Don’t worry, I am fine” - you’re heading quickly into a panicky state. Ignoring the fact that you’re out with friends, you open up Twitter and navigate to the Canes’ hashtag, scrolling anxiously until you spot the familiar last name.

A tweet from Cory Lavalette: Svechnikov is down and hurt.

Another one from Cory: Svechnikov did the splits while getting checked and was holding his left inner thigh.

Three minutes later: Further review, it looks like Kevin Hayes' skate caught Svechnikov in the thigh.

You feel like you might throw up. A cut from a skate blade is no joke. Depending on where on his thigh the blade caught him - you force yourself to stop that line of thinking and keep scrolling, breathing a sigh of relief when you see that Andrei was back on the ice a minute or so later. It’s solidly thirty minutes after the game’s ended (you didn’t realize it had gotten so late!), so he must be okay, if his and Jordan’s texts are the only ones about the whole thing. “Sorry, guys,” you sigh, gathering your jacket and purse, pushing away from the table. “I have to go. Just Venmo request me what I owe.”

Your best friend looks up, surprised, but then after she checks her phone, a sly grin stretches across her face and she teases, “going to get the benefits of those post-game endorphins?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you smirk, trying to hide your anxiety and worry about Andrei.

That gets the whole table jeering and heckling you, with your best friend laughing and proclaiming, “you’re sure as hell not a lady. Or do I need to bring out the keg stand video again?”

Waving her off with a snort of laughter and a vaguely rude gesture, you head for the door, blowing a kiss and slipping your arms into your jacket. The sounds of your friends’ voices follow you out of the restaurant, finally quieting once the door shuts behind you. You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes briefly. He’s fine - Jordan said so and Jordan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Even still, you’re nervous for the entire fifteen minute drive back to yours and Andrei’s apartment.

“Drei?” You call out his name when you push open the front door, kicking off your boots and dropping your house keys in the little bowl on the front hall table.

“In here,” his deep, accented voice echoes from the back of the apartment - your bedroom.

Shedding your jacket and draping it and your purse over the back of the couch - a bad habit that you’ve been trying to kick - you hurry down the hall towards him, needing to see him in one piece.

You freeze in the doorway when you finally lay eyes on him. He’s stretched out on the king-sized bed, shirtless and damp from his shower, clad only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he’s got one hand tucked behind his head, making his tricep bulge.

“Damn,” you mutter. It’s unfair how good-looking he is. And then your gaze lights on the thick white bandage wrapped around his left thigh, making the well-muscled bulk look even thicker. For some reason, the sight of the bandage makes his injury all the more real and tears prick at your eyes. “Andrei…” you whisper his name, hand pressing against your mouth to keep your emotions inside.

He shakes his head and smiles a little at you, a shadow of his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Ah, solnyshka, I’m fine. Just small scratch,” he says, voice warm and soaking over you like a blanket.

“But you got cut with a skate blade! A really sharp skate blade!” Your voice cracks a little. “It could’ve been really bad.”

Andrei gestures you forward with one hand and you obey instantly, not even thinking about it. His hand is warm on your wrist and he lifts your hand to his mouth to press a kiss to your palm. Your knees tremble. “But it was not,” he mumbles against your palm. “A few stitches, a bandage, and I’m good as new.”

“Stitches?” Your eyebrows lift and you look down at the bandage as if you’ve developed x-ray vision in the last thirty seconds.

“Two, three maybe. It is nothing,” he tugs at your wrist again, the dimple deepening on his cheek. His eyes twinkle. “But I think maybe I’m going to need a nurse to bring me back to 100%.”

His voice is low and you look up at his face, taking in the slow smirk that’s forming. “Oh a nurse, huh?” you murmur, warmth flooding your stomach from the way he’s looking at you.

“Mhm,” he hums, a deep rumble in his chest. His thumb is tracing an arc over your wrist, liquid heat crawling through your veins. “Now that I think about it, maybe it does hurt a little,” his lower lip pokes out in a small pout.

“Poor baby,” you whisper, licking your lower lip. Your throat feels dry. “I’ll have to be very gentle…”

Andrei’s eyes are dark, the tips of his ears are growing pink, and you can see the bulge in his boxer-briefs practically growing by the second. “What if I am a bad patient?” He lifts one eyebrow. “Will you be gentle then?”

You giggle. “Now, Mister Svechnikov, I know you can behave,” you dart forward and ghost a kiss over his lips. “When you want to.”

He tries to pull you down onto the bed, but you dance away quickly. “Solnyshka,” he pouts, “I’m not supposed to move. You have to come to me.”

“Let me change,” you reply, already pulling your sweater over your head. “These clothes are dirty.” The sweater gets tossed onto the chair in the corner and you kick off your jeans, leaning one knee on the bed. Andrei’s hands reach for you, the right one close enough to rest on your hip. He slides warm fingers around the curve of your ass and tries to pull you closer.

“Please,” he says. His accent is thick, vibrating around your brain and melting your heart. You love his voice. “I will be a good patient, I promise.”

You crawl closer to him, both of his hands on your hips now. One thick finger brushes under the waistband of your panties, sending a shiver down your spine. “Well, if you promise….” you trail off, dipping your head to press a kiss to inside of his bicep. One of your hands rests on his knee, fingers brushing over warm skin. He twitches, a little ticklish at your light touch. You grin at him, dragging your fingertips up the inside of his good thigh. The hair on his leg raises with goosebumps and the bulge of his cock grows. “You relax,” you murmur, “let me do the work.”

With a groan, Andrei drops back against the pillows he had propped behind his back, watching you with blown pupils as you climb in between his legs. He widens the space, offering you room to work. You lean back on your thighs, resting your hands lightly on Andrei’s shins. “You’ve got to tell me if you start hurting or it’s uncomfortable, okay?” you say, massaging your fingers into his calves. “I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”

“Maylshka,” Andrei groans the term of endearment, his hand stroking at himself through the fabric of his boxer-briefs, “you’re hurting me more by taking so much time.”

A snort of laughter leaves your nose involuntarily and you scoot up the bed, scraping your nails over his legs. “So impatient,” you mutter affectionately, a weird twist in your stomach when your gaze lands on the bandage again. A reminder that he was hurt. That it could’ve been more serious. Swallowing heavily, you duck your head and press a kiss to the inside of his right knee, scraping teeth over skin as you move up his inner thigh, kissing and biting gently as you go.

Andrei shifts under you, the bed dipping and swaying as he adjusts. One of his large hands twist in your hair, tangling the strands between his fingers and tugging, just this side of painful. The other hand bumps against the top of your head as he wraps it around his growing cock, stroking himself firmly. The steady movement of his hand makes his body move, in turn making your own body jostle. You bite into the corded muscle of his inner thigh and Andrei hisses, hand jerking out of rhythm.

“I thought I was taking care of you?” you mumble against his heated skin, leaning back and angling so your shoulder doesn’t bump against his wrapped thigh. Your fingers curl in the waistband of his underwear, the fabric already stretched to its limits between Andrei’s hand and erection. “You can take care of yourself on the road.”

His voice is raspy when he replies, “just helping you along, malyshka. Don’t want you to get tired.” He groans when you slide your hand over his and squeeze.

“I’m wide awake, Drei,” you murmur, knocking his hand aside and replacing it with your own. He’s hot and hard in your hand, a familiar weight. Your thumb brushes over the red, weeping tip of him and his hips buck involuntarily. A slow smirk spreads across your lips. Before you can bend your head, Andrei uses the hand that’s still tangled in your hand to force your face up to his. He cups your chin in his free hand and slants his lips over yours in a hungry kiss. You return it in kind, leaning into him, enjoying the groan he lets loose into your mouth when your hand twists around his cock.

He pulls back from the kiss, dropping his head against the headboard with a thunk. “I want to flip you over on your back and make you come until you cry,” he mutters, stretching out his left leg a little.

You laugh and kiss the side of his neck, licking at a bead of water that’s dripped down from his hair. He shivers. “Give yourself a little time to heal and then you can have me any way you want,” you promise. “Just let me take care of you tonight.”

Without giving him a chance to answer, you slide down his body, pressing soft kisses to his chest as you go and flicking one flat nipple with your tongue, drawing a strained laugh from Andrei’s throat. He murmurs your name and you kiss his stomach, just under his belly button, “lift,” you command, hooking your fingers in the elastic waist of his underwear and tugging them down. His erection jumps free, curving up to his stomach, thick and red and waiting for you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you dart your tongue out and lick the tip of him delicately.

“Fuck!” he curses, hand tightening in your hair. You press down on his good thigh with your free hand to keep him in place, not that you have a chance in hell of holding Andrei down if he really wants to move. But your fingers curl against his skin and you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth and you shift on your knees to change the angle, taking him deeper. Andrei groans and moans above you, vocalizing his approval. He’s too big to take all of him in your mouth, so you wrap your hand around the remaining inches and squeeze, knowing he loves the pressure. His hand pushes your face down and your nose bumps his lower stomach. His hold on your head is loose though, and you could pull back if you wanted. You don’t want to.

Bracing yourself on his thigh, you lean forward, taking him deeper. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, making a mess of Andrei and the sheets below him. He bucks his hips, trying to restrain himself so he doesn’t hurt you, but when you him around him, flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock, he shouts and pushes further down your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You breathe sharply through your nose, trying to stave off a gag, and inhale Andrei’s familiar musk mixed with the lavender-citrus body wash you’d bought for yourself but had been sneakily stolen by your boyfriend. You press your thighs together, pressure to help the throbbing between your legs. Andrei moves, like he wants to reach down and touch you, but you squeak a little when your head gets trapped between his pelvis and his stomach.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, “sorry.” His free hand strokes at your cheeks, your forehead, the back of your neck, and you shiver. You him around him again, sucking hard. Andrei groans your name, barely resisting the urge to thrust into your mouth. You encourage him, squeezing his shaft.

He tenses under your touch and comes in your mouth with a shouted string of Russian curses. You swallow quickly, a little overwhelmed, and Andrei’s grip on your hair loosens. He looks down at you with glazed eyes as you release him with a wet pop. a string of saliva connects your lips and his softening cock and you swipe at it quickly. “You are….” he mumbles, chuckling, speechless.

“I know,” you grin at him, wiping at the corners of your mouth. You wiggle up the mattress, rest your wrists on his shoulders, and kiss him sweetly. Andrei’s hands are heavy on your hips, sliding down the curve of your ass.

He yawns a little, blushing and mumbling an apology. “It’s not you,” he rushes to say and you giggle, kissing his cheek.

“You’ve had a long day, baby,” you reply, sliding out from between his legs and climbing off the bed. “Get comfy, I’m going to shower really quick and rinse the day off.”

Andrei catches your hand as you turn for the bathroom, a pout on his lips and a furrow between his brows. “But I didn’t get to have my way way you,” he whines.

“Tomorrow, big boy,” you promise, ignoring the throbbing between your legs. “I wanted to take care of you tonight.” You slip from his grip and dance off to the bathroom, loving that he wants to make sure you’re satisfied too. You take the world’s shortest shower, soaping up and shampooing in record time. You skip conditioner, willing to pay the price of slightly dry hair in order to cuddle with Andrei sooner.

By the time you pad back into the bedroom, clad in one of Andrei’s old shirts, he’s flat on his back, eye shut, and snoring softly. You smile softly at him, heart filling with even more love for your boyfriend. He looks even younger when he’s sleeping. Carefully, you climb into bed and tuck yourself against Andrei’s right side. His mouth hangs open a bit and his left arm is thrown over his forehead. As soon as you touch his side, he stirs a little, blinking and scrunching his face. “Mmm,” he hums, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you close. You go easily, draping your arm over his stomach and resting your head on his chest.

“Night, Drei,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his skin.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he mumbles, breathing evening out again.

When you wake up in the morning, Andrei’s head is pillowed on your chest and he has both arms wrapped around you, holding you like a teddy bear. You blink sleepily and rest your cheek against the top of his head. Your legs are tangled with his, the bandage brushing against your thigh. You comb your fingers through Andrei’s hair gently, easing him awake.

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” you giggle as he blinks awake.

“Ditto,” Andrei says, voice hoarse with sleep. He buries his face into your chest. “Stay in bed.”

“I wish, but someone has to work so we can afford this life we’ve become accustomed to,” you joke, laughing even harder when Andrei’s fingers dig into your side, tickling you now that he’s wide awake.

This is absolutely your favorite way to wake up.

[witchersmistress]

Simmering Rage

Hello my darlings!! you are in luck today!! ive got a couple of chapters for you, typing this out on a cellphone wasnt the best but i made do with what i had.

Trigger Warnings: Anger, Rage, Blood and violence, and self hatred

Word count:4.3 K

August pov

 My phone chimes with a notification on the seat beside me. I check the screen. Lo again. I haven’t seen her since my car . After I found out what Harper did, I was in a bad place for a while. I don’t remember much of the rest of the mission. The monster operated in my place, holding space for me until I was ready to come back. When the mission l ended, and I had time to think things through, I stopped thinking about what Harper had done and finally looked at the facts behind it. Of course, my mind went straight to the one person who could have told her about Hockington—Gloria Walton.

They’d gotten close, thanks to me, and I fucking paid for it. For letting a Darling into my life, letting her get in with my friends. That’s what I get for letting anyone close to me. Still, it’s a dick move on my part not to at least give Lo a chance to defend herself. If she wasn’t the one who told Harper, I cut her off for nothing. Harper could have bribed someone who worked there, seen me leaving with someone and tracked her down, rooted through my stuff or Dad’s when she was at our house and somehow put it together. It’s better this way, though. Better not to have anyone around me who knows shit about my life. When Lo found out about room 504, it felt safer to keep her close, to give her a reason not to tell anyone. Even if we never talked about it, never talked about our families the way I did with Harper or any real shit, our friendship was real. 

But letting people into my life is a mistake. People blackmail and betray. And if it was her, if she told Harper… Well, Preston can fucking have Gloria. When my phone rings a minute later, I sigh and pick it up. We can talk once. Just to clear some things up. I’m not going to give her a ride anywhere, like I used to when she didn’t have gas money. My car smells like a swamp from all the times I’ve dropped my muddy boots and rubber coveralls in here this summer. Gloria would ask questions, and I’m not about to answer. “Hey,” she says. “I figured you’d ghost me again.” “What’s up, Lo?” I ask, my voice sounding weary. “Do you use the OnlyPics app?” “No,” I say flatly, bristling at the insinuation. “Why would I?” “That’s not—I didn’t mean you’d put stuff up.” “Why?” I ask. “You don’t think people would pay to see my dick?” “No!” she says quickly. “I mean, they would, if you wanted to put it up. That’s not why I was asking, though.” “So, you don’t want to see my dick? That’s not how I remember it.” I’m being an asshole, but she’s basically calling me a whore. She knows better than to ask if I use an app that’s basically a sex worker platform. I don’t get paid for sex, and I don’t need to sell pictures of my body for money. The OnlyPics app was supposed to be a companion to OnlyWords, which is a texting app with, as its name implies, only words in the messages. Everyone likes OnlyWords, but it has no photo sharing capabilities. So the same company made OnlyPics but it was basically a knock-off Instagram where you can’t use captions and the hashtags are hidden, only used by the algorithms to know who to show them to. It probably would have died a quick death if it weren’t for the sex worker industry, who cashed in on three key features—the ability to add a link to profiles, where they added their payment link; the fifteen-second video limit, which let them put up teases to get people hooked; and the private chat feature, which let them send someone the rest of the video for whatever fee they wanted to negotiate or even video chat for a live show.

 I don’t use the app because I’m not an amateur porn star, and if I want to watch porn, I can do it for free like everyone else. If I need a live feed, I have a phone full of numbers of chicks who would be happy to put on a show for me, and I can do more than watch and jerk off. I’m not interested in that any more than I am this app. “Okay, let’s try this again,” Gloria says. “You remember how Harper  disappeared off the face of the earth when you dumped her?” I stiffen in my seat, yanking the wheel to pull off at the nearest exit at the last second. The car behind me lays on the horn, but I ignore it. The noise is almost drowned by the pounding of blood in my ears. “Yeah, what about it?” I ask Gloria. “Well, I think I found her.” “On a porn site?” I ask, hoping like hell someone just uploaded the video of her sucking someone’s dick from last year. It fucks with my head to think that one year ago today, I didn’t even know the name Harper Avery. It was another month before I would see her giving head in the parking lot behind the tampon factory. “Hey, don’t judge me,” Gloria says. “Your brothers have been out of town all summer, and you’ve been ignoring me. I’m having a dry spell.” I could tell her the twins are back, but if she ran her mouth to Harper, I don’t want her around my house, running her mouth to my brothers. So I point out the obvious. “There are more than three dicks in this town.” “Once you go Walker, you never go back,” she says lightly. “And anyway, I only saw it because she sent it to Dawson.” I’m glad I pulled over at the exit, because I’d probably run someone off the road right now if I were still driving. I grip the steering wheel with one hand and close my eyes. My voice comes out so normal you’d think I was just a guy who dumped a girl and didn’t give a fuck about what happened to her since. “I’m afraid to ask, but… Does your brother always share porn with you?” “No, you weirdo,” she says. “Someone DM’d him, and I’ve been obsessing about her all summer, so he showed it to me. He thinks it’s funny as shit.” “Why are you obsessing about Harper?” I demand. 

What the fuck. Maybe I should have kept in touch with Lo. She could find out shit, maybe even the truth. “I don’t know,” she says. “Don’t you think it’s weird that she just… Vanished? I mean, I’m not saying you’re not worth going off the deep end over, or that you couldn’t eviscerate her heart so completely she could never love again. She liked to play it cool, but she really loved you, August. Like, the kind of love that eats you alive, and you’re never the same again.” “Put that shit on a ninety-nine cent Valentines card. You could make real money.”

“Keep playing, you didn’t feel it, too,” she says. “But y’all broke a lot of hearts when you broke up, not just your own. Everyone figured you’d get back together.” “What’s your point?” I snap. I don’t need a fucking lecture about how much I disappointed everyone. She can add it to my fucking tab for all the times I fucked up and pissed off everyone who matters. “My point is, even if Harper was devastated beyond repair, she’s not the kind of chick who would let a breakup destroy her. She’s stronger than that. You may be irreplaceable even to her, but you’re still a boy. And it would take more than one boy to break Harper.” Maybe not one boy. But one boy who shared her with two more against her will? A broken hand and a rope she couldn’t get free of, a swamp full of snakes more poisonous than her? Yeah. That could do it. “Then it obviously had nothing to do with me,” I say. “Maybe she got hooked on Lady Alice or Pearl Lady or whatever the fuck they’re calling it now, and she’s selling herself to pay for it like a regular junkie. Hell, her mom basically said as much.” “It did blow up the scene right around that time…” Gloria muses. “Maybe she’ll tell you for the right price,” I say flatly. “That’s all she’s ever cared about.” “August…”

 “What?”

 “Look, I don’t know everything that went down between you, but I know what it’s like to walk away from love. Just because you broke up doesn’t mean your heart wasn’t decimated, too.” My laugh is brittle, like stepping on glass. “You’re funny, Lo.” I could ask her, just come right out and be blunt, like King. But I can’t acknowledge that much aloud. The hotel is its own world. When we leave, we don’t mention what goes on there. I don’t tell the school that Gloria is a scholarship kid. I elevated her. And she never tells anyone that I get a room there every few months. Would she risk telling someone, knowing she could lose it all? Even if she hates me, she loves her status too much to risk it. What would make her turn on me like that? Harper didn’t tell that creep where she found out the information. But it has to be Lo. No one else knows. So, I hung up the phone, letting her think this is about a breakup.

 That it’s not about a murder, not about a girl coming back from the dead, a ghost dragging her broken body from the swamp and crawling back into my brain to fuck with it even more. I open my email, the one connected to the OnlyWords and OnlyPics apps by default because it’s all made by the same company. I barely remember thumbing away the automatic notifications I got when someone sent me a message this summer. I ignored them all, knowing they were porn spam. My chest is hollow as I open one from my spam folder. It tells me I have twenty-four new messages on OnlyPics. I follow the link and open my direct messages. The first one is a thumbnail of a video, sent this evening. If it’s from Harper, she changed her handle from BadApple. For a few seconds, all I see is a closeup of part of her tattoo. I take it in, examining it until I realize it’s her hip crease, and pressed along the back of her thigh, an expanse of pale skin. It takes me a minute to make sense of what I’m seeing. Whoever she’s fucking, he’s got her folded in half like her legs are over his shoulders while he nails her into the bed. There’s no caption, and there are no words even on the messenger, so I have to click on the profile to find an explanation. Apple Cream Pie, $1k/min. Time seems to skip. Some caveman part of me must take over, because the next thing I know it’s five minutes later, and I’m five thousand dollars lighter, and I’m slamming my phone against the top of the steering wheel over and over. I feel it crunch and snap, but I keep pounding it until there’s nothing left in my hand, and the pieces of it are scattered across my lap and the floor. Time skips again. I’m in my driveway at home. Blood is dripping down the steering wheel and into my lap. 

I open my hand and find pieces of glass jutting from my palm in a dozen places. And all I think about is that day my car was bombed, and Harper tried to pick the glass from my face with her tiny, careful fingers. I climb out of the car. There’s a black Jaguar parked on the gravel, a tall figure leaning against it. I walked up to him. Something in me seems to have been knocked loose, and I think I might fucking kill him, even though it’s just Oliver Finnegan, who never goes inside. He doesn’t approve of the family business. “Hullo, August,” he says, his Irish accent distorting the words. Or maybe it’s the ringing in my ears. “Am I in your spot? I can move the car.” “Don’t worry about it.” He cocks his head, his weird, pale eyes taking in the blood on my pants, my hand. “You alright, mate?” I shrug and head for the house. Just as I’m about to step inside, his brother steps out, a black duffle in one hand, probably full of cash or those fucking pearls everyone’s on about. Colin Fucking Finnegan. My eyes narrow, my fists clenching until I can feel the glass biting deeper, piercing through my skin and into the muscle and sinew. “Was it you?” I grind out. Part of me knows it’s impossible, but maybe he sent the photo on his way here, or maybe he took it earlier. I need Baron to find the date signature on a video, if it’s even possible. For all I know, Harper’s dead, and she took those videos herself while we were together. If she’d sell my dignity for a scholarship, why wouldn’t she sell videos of herself fucking 2other guys when she was with me? “Whatever it was, I bet it was me,” Colin says, flashing me a knowing grin that shows off his chipped front tooth. “Are you still sore about that beating you took last spring?” “You know what it’s about.” “If it’s not that, you’re pissed you didn’t get a cut of this,” he says, jiggling the bag. “Don’t fucking push me right now,” I warn. His creepy eyes go smug. “Or… You still on about that whore? I figured that’s what set you off last spring. Everyone in town knows I fucked her first. Are you just finding out?” “Where is she?” I demand, grabbing him around the neck and slamming him up against the wall. “Where the fuck do you have her, you cum guzzling, festering wad of infected dick cheese?” A cocky, defiant grin stretches his lips. “Aww, did you catch something off her?” he asks. “Wasn’t me, mate. I popped that cherry when there were barely three hairs on her pussy. Haven’t touched her since.”

I don’t know exactly what happens next. I don’t see Colin Finnegan in front of me anymore. All I see is red. The next thing I know, my brothers and Dad are holding me down on the steps, and Oliver and their uncle are holding Colin back while he curses and struggles and spits. The white gravel is painted red like the day the Darlings vandalized our house, but this time, it’s blood. “Let me up,” I growl, shoving off the step and wrenching free of my family. I stalk toward Colin, who writhes like a cat getting a bath. I can feel blood trickling down my face, the jagged edges of a few broken teeth, and the throb of one eye that’s already swelling shut. But I don’t feel pain. The other thing that lives inside me has swallowed it, and I can’t feel a thing. “Come on,” Colin yells, dancing in the grip of his brother. “Let’s do it again. I can go all night. Whoo! I feel alive!” I stop in front of him, ignoring my brothers, who have rushed up behind me to grab me if I lose my shit again. But I’m calm now. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I say to Colin. My lip is broken and swollen so thick my words come out slurred. “If I find out you’re the one who sent those videos, you won’t be alive much longer.” I turn and walk inside. I don’t know why I care. I watched two guys fuck her. I gave them permission. I made sure to watch, so I knew I could never want her again, never think she was mine. I broke her on purpose, but piece by piece, I’m the one falling to pieces.

Harpers POV

“Are you Mr. D?” I demand, standing in the Phantom’s bedroom, my whole body quaking. I hold the tag in between my finger and thumb, waving it at him. He just walked out of the shower, his body all steamy, a towel around his hips, mask over his face. He shrugs. “What about it?” Anger seethes through me. “That’s how you knew where I was that night. Isn’t it?” He opens his dresser and pulls out his underwear. I know where he keeps them. I know where everything in his apartment is. But I didn’t know his name, have never seen his face. I come when he calls, practically live here two days a week, like a goddamn whore. He promised he’d fuck me one day, and now he has. I don’t know why it matters suddenly. I never cared before. He nods vaguely toward the windows. “I keep an eye on things.” “On me,” I say, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “You keep an eye on me.” “I told you, I can be anyone you want me to be,” he says with a haughty little smirk. “As long as you’re you, Miss A.” “As long as I’m August’s fuck toy,” I correct him. “That’s why you take those pictures, isn’t it? To send to him and show him what you’ve done to me.” “What I’ve done to you?” he asks, turning to face me after pulling on a pair of sweats. They hang low on his narrow hips. Above them, the ridges of his abs are carved deep and sharp. His body is a finely chiseled sculpture. I’ve never noticed, but he’s beautiful, even without a face. “What about what he did?” He paces forward, stalking, his voice laced with fury that makes me shrink back on the bed, as if he could hurt me more than I’ve been hurt. As if he could take something from me that he hasn’t been taking all along. “You changed me,” I whisper. “I saved you.” I stare up at him, feeling guilty for feeling anything but gratitude. He works out, takes care of himself, wears exquisite clothes to work at his standing desk with three monitors, an ergonomic keyboard, and a fancy Mac computer. I’m the one who should be ashamed. I don’t take care of myself until he tells me to. He tells me to shower, puts me in fancy clothes, makes me look like a girl who could be, in some fairytale in his mind, deserving of him. And he treats me like I am.

 He cooks me fancy dinners and buys me everything I need or could want without me having to ask. He even took care of my mother. I don’t treat him half as well. I don’t cook or offer to help clean up. I don’t even talk to him when I come over. While he cooks, I sit curled on his fine leather sofa, sipping his fine wine. The only thing I do for him in return for everything he’s done is spread my legs. If he’s made me a whore, I’ve let him do it. The first day he bought me something, the phone, I could have said no. But I didn’t. I let him dress me up like a doll, treat me like property, and fuck me like a whore. If anything, he’s shown me he values me more than I value myself. He bought me fucking diamonds. A girl like me, I have no right to even hope for this kind of man, this kind of treatment. I’m lucky to be his whore. But for the first time in months, I want to speak, to voice my desires. “You’re right,” I say. “You’ve treated me well. But I’m done being your whore.” “You’re not—” He breaks off, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. That’s not how I see you, Harper.” “How do you see me?” He stares at me a long moment. “I just wanted to take care of you,” he says at last. “I saw what they did to you. You’re not the only person…” He shakes his head again. “And yeah, I wanted to fuck you to piss off August. I’ll admit that. But I never saw you as a whore. I only gave you what you needed.” “Like these?” I ask, upturning the jeweler’s bag. The box falls out, the lid askew, one of the diamonds dangling out the side like something obscene. “Fair enough,” he says, moving across the room and sitting heavily on the bottom of the bed. “Maybe I had selfish reasons. But I never thought you owed me.

 I know you won’t believe me. I know what I look like. You think I can’t get laid unless I buy a girl diamonds. And you’re right.” “What about your girlfriend?” I ask, my voice thick. He scoffs. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Look at me.” “So you dressed me up and pretended you did,” I say, feeling like some weird blow-up doll. I’ve acted like one. I haven’t been a whole person since before the swamp. I’ve been a doll, broken into a million pieces, and he’s pieced some of them back together—at least on the outside. But he can’t fix me inside. He can reach in, but he won’t find anything to piece back together. I’m hollow. “I never pretended to be a good guy,” he says. “Don’t act shocked that I’m exactly who I was all along.” “But you never told me who you were,” I point out. “You never asked.” “I did.” We sat side by side for a while, neither of us speaking. “You don’t want to know who I am,” he says. “Look at me. Look at what I’ve become.” I could say the same thing. 

 When I tell Mr. D I’m not coming back, he doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t get ready to take me home as usual. I ask if he’s taking me home, and he says no, but he doesn’t stop me when I take his keys. I keep waiting for him to come after me, but he just studies me, his face behind that infuriating blank mask, his one good eye watching me leave. In the garage, I climb into his truck. I’m sure he’s going to come down and stop me. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely get the key in. I open the garage on the bottom level of his building, and I drive out. I keep checking the rearview, sure I’ll see him coming after me. But he lets me go. Some sick part of me deflates when I turn into my driveway and he’s not there. Not even Mr. D thinks I’m worth hunting down. I climb out of the truck and go inside. Nothing has changed. But everything has. Without the Tuesday and Thursday excursions, I stop leaving the house. I ignore the staff that comes in and cleans my house on a weekly basis. I don't care where they came from or who hired them.

 There’s no point. I Don't even return his truck. It sits like an oversized monster in our driveway, drawing attention from anyone and everyone. I hide the keys inside a tear in my box spring, I sleep with a switchblade in one hand for the nightmares that plague my every waking moment, as if my fall from grace has given them permission to terrorize me, maybe they can smell my brokenness, my weakness, the way I can smell alcohol on Duke’s breath. And even though I was sure I felt nothing all those months, now that I don’t see the Phantom, there’s an ache left inside me that he once soothed. 

When I wake myself up croaking feebly, from a dream where I’m gagged, silenced as I try to force sound from my strangled throat, there are only blankets to wrap around me instead of his strong, salient arms. I stop leaving the house, stop doing anything. I can’t remember why it mattered to be clean, to eat, to live. One evening, as I’m lying corpse like in my bed, a tap sounds at my grimy window. I’m so startled I sit up before my brain can kick in and say what it says about everything—it’s not worth it. It doesn’t matter. Turning my head I see a crow pecking at the shiny part of my window. Standing up and making my way into the bathroom, I turn on the lights avoiding the mirror. I don't want to look at the girl in the mirror. I just can't.Turning on the hot water in the sink letting it fog up my mirror, I scoop the water with my hands and splash it on my face.

  I know I should care but I can't summon the energy. My sponsor is gone. There’s no way out. I’ve given up, accepted the fact that I’ll be just like my dead beat mother. Turning off the water and raising my head, reluctantly I look back at my reflection, I meet my soulless eyes and stare. I should want to rage against this weak girl that I've become, to become the monster those boys wanted me to be.. Turning off the lights and walking back to my room. Dropping back down into bed, I looked out the grimy window and let out a deep sigh, I can't stay like this broken doll. But I just don't care anymore..

A while  later, lying in my bed, I think maybe it’s time I did.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 3. Shorts Fired

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This chapter originally contained Daryl...Then I remembered that conflicted with Canon and changed it, but he’ll appear soon. Additionally, I got a request to start a tag list so if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me

Also in the event that the link’s don’t work I’ve started adding a hashtag to this series: AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires. 

“This is what we found sir,” Simon said, his team depositing a bag, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a knife with your name engraved on the side. Negan picked up the knife, eyeing at the dry blood on the blade.

“She put up a fight” he commented, a smirk on his face. “That’s my girl.” He looked back at Simon from his seat in the meeting room. “We’ll find her” Simon’s men looked at each other nervously. Simon found his mouth dry and had to clear his throat to keep talking.

“Sir...We found her...she”

“Then where the hell is she?” your father asked, interrupting Simon as you would interrupt him. The room went incredibly quiet.

“She turned, sir.” Simon spoke. Negan froze for a moment before falling back into his chair. “We...captured her... if you’d like to see.” Wordlessly Negan rose from his seat and rushed towards the exit, specifically to the van Simon had been out in.

The shutter raised and low and behold, there stood a walker. Her face had been devoured but she was wearing your clothes, right down to the military boots you never took off, despite how many nice clothes and shoes he’d find for you. ‘Just encase’ you said.

Looking at the walker growl and reach for him, Negan felt numb. He now realised he hadn’t dropped your knife. “Gimme a minute” he ordered, climbing into the van and closing the door behind him.

Now it was just Negan and the walker, he began to tear up. “I’m sorry y/n.” he whispered before reaching behind and destroying her brain. It fell and he cradled her in his arms as he wept. “I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you safe, princess.” he rocked back and forth gently, stroking it’s hair as he mumbled to himself “I’m so sorry”

The night of your escape you broke into a thrift store to get some new clothes, though it’d hardly count as breaking in as whoever owned it was probably dead. You found some old khakis, a tie-dye shirt, and a black sweatshirt that had seen better days. It wasn’t much but it was warm. If only they had socks. You pulled on a pair of trainers and ran, wanting as much distance between you and Sanctuary as possible before your old man got back.

From there it wasn’t easy. Food was gone, ammunition didn’t exist, and the closest thing you had to a bed was a car with the doors closed. Anyone else would crack under these circumstances, but not you. You had experienced stuff arguably worse than this. You were a trained soldier with experience on foreign battlefields, so a few undead going bump in the night wouldn’t stop you from sleeping. What did keep you awake was the memories.

“You shouldn’t take those with booze, ma” you interjected, your mother just gave you a filthy look from over the edge of her bourbon glass. “I am the mother, you are the child. Remember your place.” was the usual reply, and that was the reply you preferred. It meant she’d spend the night cursing you out, picking apart your flaws, and blaming you for your old man’s fooling around. The words were easier to deal with than dodging a flying glass.

You were 15 when your mother got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and your world went from sunshine and rainbows to cleaning up after your mother passed out so she wouldn’t be embarrassed in the morning and letting your dad in at 4 in the morning so the neighbours didn’t see him. In the morning your mother would make you pancakes to say sorry, even though any movement would hurt her. Your father would slip you twenty bucks for ‘being a team sport’.

You had accepted that your mother just didn’t have the nerve to confront your father on all his cheating because she was worried she’d leave him, and your father was an idiot that was more bothered by the parents at the school he teaches at finding out that he screwed around then what he was doing to your family. You accepted it. You understood it. That didn’t mean you forgave them. It also didn’t mean you wouldn’t call them every chance, that you wouldn’t send a hundred letters to them every year, that you wouldn’t kiss their cheeks while declaring ‘I love you’ to all that heard.

Every morning you woke at what you believed to be 6 am. It had been hardwired into you from your service. You’d start walking in the same direction, trying to get as far from Sanctuary as possible, though your speed was slow and you often stopped at towns or houses to scavenge. Now and then you’d stumble into houses that had gardens or farms that had been overrun. Usually, there were more walkers than food but you had secured a rather sharp knife to replace the arrow you’d been using to bring down walkers quietly. You also carried your things in a child’s school bag, being the most together bag you could find at the thrift shop. The bright pink glitter didn’t go with your desire to stay low but sacrifices had to be made, such as hygiene.

Your form was weak from a strong lack of food, your feet were raw from the constant walking, you were constantly exhausted. Taking down walkers with the kitchen knife had become muscle memory. Hand on chest, knife in head, hand on chest, knife in head, and so on. You felt more dead than alive when a gunshot fired somewhere behind you. You swirled around to see a clearly a few steps right of you and a walker being downed. You put the math together and knelt into the foileage. “Sasha what are you doing?” you heard a lady call from far off. A moment later you noticed your sleeve feeling more and more damp. A quick glance confirmed blood, making you curse under your breath.

The gun shot attracted more of the biters out of the forest and into the clearing to see this Sasha character, but three were more interested in the smell of your blood. You cursed again, jumping back and taking steps away from the clearly. You reached for your gun on instinct before realising it would probably attract the people, and you didn’t want that. To make matters worse your shot arm was your stabbing arm. Flexing the arm caused the blood to start pouring so you took the kitchen knife in your other hand, the walkers approaching you. Having little time to react you kicked one back, sending it into a bush while another lunged at you. You narrowly sunk the knife into its skull, though the combination of it falling on you and your lack of good footing sent you backward, banging your head off a tree. Your head began ringing when the third reached for you over the lunger, giving you enough space to swing your arm and shove it through it’s temple.

You turned to get the two corpses off you, settling into a squat against the tree as the first offending walker got to its feet. You flipped the knife in your hand as it wandered towards you, using the tree to stand up quickly and stabbing up through its neck. The last one fell and you heard more shuffling through the woods. “I’m coming with you”. Crap it was those people. You ducked behind your support tree, the sudden exertion making your arm bleed. You clasped a hand over it as you bit your lip, watching from behind the tree. Three women walked by, two following another with a large rifle. ‘Are they from an outpost?’ you thought. You waited a while for them to pass with short breath, not wanting to risk them looking for you.

When you were sure you were in the clear you ran, making note not to run in the direction they came from or were heading. You ran and ran until you found a gas station. There were a couple of walkers in there but you needed something to dress your wound. You took a step back and shot through the glass at the first, getting the second with your knife when it stumbled through the shattered window.

Walking in you noticed it was a treasure trove. Most of the shelves still had their goods and the first aid pack was still there. Taking off your shirt you were relieved to find the bullet had only grazed you and the bleeding was slowing. Still, you cleaned and dressed the wound, popping a lollipop in your mouth for good measure.

You only got a few bottles of water and some stale chips in your bag when a car pulled up. You dove behind the counter without thinking, pulling the walker you shot over your body. Cracking glass signaling they had walked in.

“I thought this place was locked up” a man’s voice spoke out.

“It was” another man’s voice replied.  “Whoever broke in didn’t clear it. Come on”. You heard shuffling, then felt someone kick your leg.

“Anything behind there?” the woman called.

“Nah, just a couple of dead ones.” you tried to maintain your stillness when what you assumed was one of the men, stepped on the back of the walker, and pushed the air out of you. It took everything to maintain your quiet when he reached for your bag, cutting it off your shoulder. You stole a look to see a man with long messy hair, a button-up opened over a t-shirt, and a sheriff’s hat rustling through your stuff.

“This one had a first aid pack,” he called, pulling everything from your bag into his own. You made a mental note to kill this man the next time you saw him.

You lay as still and as silent as you could until you heard the car drive off again. You pushed the dead off you and dived for your bag, looking through it just to confirm what you already knew. He took everything. Your bullets, your food, everything. You threw the bag across the floor cursing. You sat on the ground, your head in your hands. You stared at nothing until an old map caught you. You slowly pulled it out of the hole it had been shoved in between the counter and the register and unraveled it, wanting something to look at other than your distinct lack of supplies. The map must’ve been used by the previous manager, because your current location was clearly marked and the DC city limits weren’t that far out. Your eyes lit up

‘The only place left with stuff would be the city. They had a refugee centre.’ you thought. You sat there a moment longer, soaking in your helplessness. Standing up from behind the counter you realised how badly they’d empty the place. The shelves didn’t even have the dust on them anymore. You took off your shirt, using it to pick up a piece of shattered glass, then walked over to one of the walkers to start carving it open. If you were to brave DC without weapons you’d need a disguise.

After soaking yourself in undead guts you repurposed the walker’s shirt to hold your make-shift blade. The walk into the city was short once you cut through the woods. As expected the road was lined with cars and walkers, non paying you any attention. You walked into an abandoned RV to check your wound, making sure no infection had seeped in. Once you opened the door some walkers lunged at you, making you step in quicker. Immediately your nose filled with a vile stench, causing you to vomit into the entryway. In your new position, bending over with your hands on the floor sitting in your vomit, you could see the cause of the smell from the corner of your eye.

You walked over slowly to the back of the rv in case they turned, but also to clarify the image as the bodies had been decaying for so long. The blood spatter confirmed a gunshot. It looked like a woman in a summer dress and two young children. Pinned to a board above the bed were some pictures. Smiling children, older people with drinks in hand, and a happy family on the beach; A mother, a father, and two children barely out of their toddler years. You looked up and down the alley, no sight of a fourth family member.

“Coward ran” you mumbled to yourself. The covers lay at the bottom of the bed. You grabbed them and pulled them over the family.

A little bit of scavenging brought you a new ruck-sack in a dirty green colour, two bottles of water, some painkillers, and a pair of socks. You celebrated silently before you put them on, already feeling the old trainers rub your feet raw. As you closed the presses something in the bathroom cubby began to move. Clawing at the door but not sure how to get out. If he couldn’t get out then only one thing came to mind.

“Guess you weren’t a coward.”

You opened the door, the walker falling out and quickly meeting your glass, it breaking off in his head. You picked him up and laid him down with the family, noticing he was wearing the same shirt as in the picture above the bed. You felt jealous of the family, but you pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. As luck would have it the walker was keeping a hunting rifle with a low power scope in his cubicle, along with five bullets. You picked it up, looking it over. You hadn’t used one of these before the world went to shit but what time better than the end of the world to get a refresher lesson.

Getting into the city was relatively easy, finding your way through the crowd, down an alley, on top of a garbage can, and in through an old apartment window into a complex with only a couple of the dead following you. They groaned and reached into the higher window, but you were safe in someone else’s sitting room. You jumped up when another walker strutted in from another apartment room. All you had were two guns and firing either one of them would drag too much attention.

You looked around for anything to use but it was on you before you could act, pushing you back towards the window. Pinned to the breaking frame by the undead and more of them reaching for you from the back you pushed against it with all your strength, its jaw snapping at you. You took in a deep breath and pushed back with all you had, sending it to the ground running to the other side of the common space. It rose confidently from behind the couch looking around there was a tv to your left and a dead potted plant to your right.

It walked around and lunged at you just as you got the potted plant off the floor, swinging it around and knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up again you dropped the plant on its head, followed shortly by the tv for good measure. You leaned against the wall, causing it to crumble and collapse, sending you back into a child’s bedroom. You coughed as the dust fell on you, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Looking into the sitting room you now noticed it featured a kitchen area, complete with a full block of knives staring right back at you.

You gathered up the knives and went up a floor, wanting some distance between the dead and yourself. It seemed the complex had been cleared, but that made sense since it was the city. You found an apartment with a street view and made your camp, pulling an old mattress from the bedroom into the common room to keep watch. You opened a window to clear a little of the dust from the room. You’d sleep here tonight then move more in the city later. You found some books in the apartment. ‘Jane Eyre’, ‘Little Women’, ‘Get Slime in 40 days’. It painted the image of some sad spinster trying to better herself to get back at the world. ‘The Woman’s Guide to Single Life’ added a frame to that image.

“Come on!” you heard a man yell, followed by a gunshot. You fell to the ground instantly, crouched over, and crawled to the window. Peering out there was a sight to behold. It was the same hat-sporting man, no a boy, and an older man with a beard with a herd on their heels. They’d be at your window. You loaded a bullet in the chamber of your hunting rifle, using the scope you had it on the older man’s head in moments since he had a larger bag on his back. All you had to do was squeeze the trigger and he’d be down, dropping his stuff and maybe the other would be eaten and you could take your stuff too. All you had to do was squeeze that trigger.

“Dad!” The boy screamed out when a dead grabbed his bag, your scope moved in a moment and the walker was downed. They looked around wildly while running. You made a rash decision and stuck your head out the window and yelled to them as you reloaded the gun.

“Hey you two, round the corner there’s a busted window! Get to it!”. They seemed to understand and began sprinting. You took down one behind the man that had gotten too close, then another. You heard a thump downstairs just as you ran out of ammo.

You walked out of your apartment just as they came up the stairs, you pointed the gun at them in defense. “Stay right there”

The two stood with their hands up. They glanced at each other and then you. The older man began to speak. “Thank you for-”

“If you wanna thank me, give me back my shit” you cut him short.

“We didn’t take anything from you.” the boy in the hat replied.

“Three bottles of water, two packets of chips, and the first aid kit.” you retorted, noticing the shock in the man's eyes. You motioned the gun to the boy “You cut the bag off my arm back at the gas station. The pink glitter thing.”

The man swallowed hard “We can’t. That stuff. We have people that need it-”

“I could have fucking killed you. Is that not worth shit?” The silence that followed made it all worse.

“Listen, I’m Rick Grimes, This is my son, Carl” He motioned to the boy behind him “We come from a place. A safe place with walls. If you let us keep your stuff you can come back with us. We can give you a safe place to live.” The rest of his words turned into white noise after you heard his name.

“Alexandria?” You questioned, a sad smile coming to your face. “You’re not gathering stuff for your own people, are you?” you lowered your gun a little.

“You know these people?” the boy asked, getting angry. You nodded solemnly.

“Look, I’m not going back with you, but I’ll offer you a deal. Give me the first aid kit and I’ll give you this gun” you said, holding up the rifle to further your point.

“We need it,” Carl argued.

“So do I.” You rose your short sleeve to show the bandage. “Some asshole nearly shot out there.” Carl reached into the older man’s bag, Rick immediately telling him not to.

“She saved us,” he argued, pulling out the red plastic pack.

“One good turn deserves another,” he stood up and went to hand it to you before you raised the rifle again, shaking your head no. You motioned to the ground, where he put it down. You once again motioned to the ground and he kicked it over. You knelt down, placed down the rifle, and snatched up the kit before diving back into your room, slamming the door shut.

You rushed over to your bag, grabbing it and shoving the kit in. “This is empty!” you heard Rick yell as you dove out the window onto the fire escape and descending back to the streets.

Tag list

@softsebastian​

[anotherhamiltonblog]

Foreign Touch ch 8

Warnings: Angst, cuteness, Thomas being sweet.

Word Count: 2,597

Previously -  Masterlist  Request A Oneshot

[a/n after the tag-list. <3 ]

Blinking a few times, Y/N looked around and wondered where she was. ‘Wasn’t I sleeping at Thomas’?’ she thought as she sat up and looked at her body. No cast, no bruises and no pain from the accident.

“Y/N! GET UP! OR YOU’LL BE LATE!” she heard her moms voice call out and Y/N was quick to jump up from the bed and rush out of her room.

Pushing past Alexander, ignoring his cry as she practically slammed the boy into the wall. Y/N found her parents in the kitchen. Her father reading the paper and her mother fixing breakfast. With a sob, Y/N rushed over to them and threw her arms around her mother first before her father.

“What? What’s wrong sweetie?” her dad chuckled and patted her back.

“I… you guys… we were in a crash and you guys…” she shook her head but smiled. “I can’t wait to tell Thomas that I had the craziest dream!” Y/N let out a small laugh.

“What? Why the hell would you talk to Jefferson?” Alex asked, walking into the kitchen and looked at his sister in disbelief. Acting as if she suggested she was going to shave her head and join the circus.

“Because he’s my soulmate dumbass.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t tell John everything.”

Alex flicked her forehead and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “I tell John everything cause he’s my Best Friend. Nothing more.” Alex pointed a finger at Y/N who looked confused. “Soulmate? Jesus, you have to lay off the fan-fiction Y/N. You’re starting to dream some real crazy shit. Like falling for your brothers ARCH ENEMY!”

Standing there confused, Y/N didn’t understand what was going on. ‘What does he mean… what? Of course, Thomas and I are together…’

Shaking her head, Y/N went to change into something that wasn’t her pajamas. Though the grey skinny sweatpants she put on and a loose black shirt wasn’t any different. Y/N just didn’t feel like getting pretty for school. Hair loose, no makeup expect for the bit of mascara and Chapstick. She slipped her feet into the Vans shoes by her bed and grabbed her bag.

School wasn’t what she expected. It was as if everything she went through didn’t happen. No one had soulmates, Alex was Senior Class President. Thomas was his usual playboy way; James was a sweetheart around Y/N. Her own group of friends was normal. John and Alex being so cute Y/N felt herself getting cavities, though they were just friends.

Everything was different and Y/N hated it.

That night, at a school game. She warmed up with the other cheerleaders as they got ready for the halftime break and were going to preform a little skit they worked on. Y/N knew it like the back of her hand. She remembered already doing this skit and how Thomas had hugged her and congratulated her on it afterwards.

Now after they finished, the crowd going wild, there was no Thomas, no hugs and kisses before he would run off to finish the game. It was like a drill in her heart and she couldn’t handle it. So, when no one paid her any attention, the girl rushed off to the locker room and changed. Telling her own couch that she wasn’t feeling well and went home.

Even after posting on Instagram, she laid there on her bed, looking up at the ceiling and frowned. The ache she felt was so strong and Y/N wanted it to go away. Turning on her side, not believing everything that she had gone through was a dream, she slowly fell asleep, hugging her pillow to her chest.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

With a gasp, Y/N sat up and looked around. Seeing she wasn’t home, that Y/N was in the room she had been staying in while living with the Jefferson’s. Y/N almost cried. So, it had been a dream, her parents weren’t alive, she was with Thomas and her brother was with John. Grabbing her phone and looking at Instagram, Y/N let out a laugh when she saw the last post she made, she had thought it might have been something different… but no. She never made it and her friends were still roasting Alex for not getting John a ring.

Moving to get up, her cast still on her leg. Up to her thigh, mocking her almost. She glared at the thing. “Only one more week…” she told herself and moved to get out of bed. The last few weeks haven’t been the easiest, but she was getting by. Thomas helping her, her brother and friends. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson were by her side each time she broke down.

After getting out of bed and changed into a long, maxi dress with a leather coat over her. Y/N put her foot in ballet flats and a sock over the other one to cover her toes before heading out of her room.

“Y/N?” she heard Thomas call out and she turned her head.

Wincing at the look of worried on his face, Y/N shook her head. “I’m fine! Honestly. It was just… another bad dream.” She told him and smiled when he kissed her cheek.

Walking downstairs, Thomas never leaving her side, there to need her in case anything happens. But he allowed Y/N to go down on her own, taking it one step at a time with the crutches. It wasn’t easy but she was able to go down.

By the time they got to the kitchen, Y/N sat down at the bar-stool at the kitchen island and smiled as Thomas grabbed her the box of cereal, she eats almost every morning. 

The two were quite, Thomas not sure what to say and Y/N was still stuck in her own thoughts thinking about the dream she had. Throughout the day Y/N kept to herself as she went to her therapy session and doing mundane things around the house. At least as much as she could do without over working herself. 

Not being able to go to school just yet, feeling as if she wouldn’t be ready for that. Y/N did her schoolwork at home, being sent everything she needed to her student email and sending it back to each teacher. Spending her week just like that, waking up, having breakfast with Thomas and kissing him goodbye as he went off to school. 

The day she was finally getting her cast off, Y/N was in a good mood. It was as if she would finally be able to be herself once again. So, as she had gotten ready that Saturday morning bright and early. Y/N found herself making everyone breakfast. She had gotten up even before Mr. and Mrs Jefferson. 

By the time everyone woke up and had breakfast together. Y/N and Thomas got into his car and headed off to the hospital where she would get the cast off at her eight o’clock appointment. Y/N was talking and making jokes. Holding Thomas’ hand throughout the car ride. Never noticing the bright smile Thomas had on his face every time he glanced at her. He was happy that she was acting like her old self again.

It was two hours later when they were back in their car and heading back home. Sure, she still had to use a supportive boot, but at least she didn’t have to wear the annoyingly large cast.

The two looked at each other and smiled. “You know… I’m all caught up in my schoolwork… Football season is over so there’s no games.” Thomas spoke up and Y/N raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Okay….” She trailed off, not following what he was trying to get at.

Chuckling, Thomas grabbed her hand and grinned. “Wanna go on a small vacation? Just us? I have money…”

With wide eyes, Y/N turned her body so she could look at Thomas better. “Really?” she asked, only to squeal when he nodded. “Myrtle Beach!” was the first place Y/N thought of for them to go.

As soon as it was decided, Thomas drove home where the two quickly went to pack. Being sure to pack warmer clothes since the weather was still cold. Though thankfully there wasn’t much snow on the ground. Y/N was sure to text her friends that she would be away for the weekend. Thomas doing the same but being sure to message his parents as well. Just so they wouldn’t worry.

By the time they finished getting their bags packed for the three-day weekend. The two continued on their way back to the car where they set off to Myrtle Beach for their getaway. Music blasting and the two singing, Y/N doing her best to rap along with the songs Thomas played.

Of course, they had to make a couple stops, bathroom breaks, food stops and places they deemed worthy to stop and take pictures of.  What would have been only six, almost seven hours turned into nine hours in the car driving to their destination. Not that either minded.

Finally arriving at the hotel, the two would stay at, Thomas signing them in since he was eighteen already. Y/N held onto his hand as she kept watch on their bags before finally being handed the keys to their room and they headed up to their room on the 14th floor. Once inside, they put their clothes into the drawers and laid in bed.

Y/N had decided to take the boot off to let her leg breath some as they were just laying there. It was nearing dinner time and the sun was going down, so the two looked at one another in silent agreement to order room service. Being the one to turn around and grab the phone, along with a menu from the drawer. Y/N smiled as Thomas kissed her forehead, mumbling about going to shower.

Once the food order was placed, Y/N laid there and stared at her phone. It didn’t take long for the two of them to shower and get dressed for the night. Dinner was brought up and Y/N laid in bed with Thomas, a movie playing on the tv while they ate. A burger with fries for Thomas and the chicken tender platter with a side of salad with the Caesar dressing. Though of course she stole some of the fries from Thomas plate. Grinning each time, she snuck a French fry and he would playfully glare at her.

»»————　♡　————««

The weekend went perfectly between the two of them. Y/N and Thomas doing everything a couple would do. Sightseeing, going to the beach, despite the cold weather. Walking the boardwalk and going to the fair that was open that weekend. It was a memorable time for the two. It was a much-needed break that the two of them needed. So, by Sunday, after posting something cute on her Instagram. Just wanting everyone to know that she was indeed alive.

Y/N was grinning when she had yet another hashtag going on, loving nothing more than to bother her idiot brother. The same idiot who spent majority of the weekend calling and texting her whenever he could. Just to make sure Thomas was trying to corrupt his sister. (His own words.)

When they both paid for the hotel and got back in their car, Y/N pulled Thomas closer to her and placed a small kiss to his lips. A hand going to the back of his neck while they both savored the soft kiss. “Thank you…” she whispered, lips brushing against his as she spoke quietly.

“You know I’ll do anything for you babygirl.” He chuckled and gave her one more peck before they put on their seat belt and started the drive back home.

Having left a little after Five o’clock that Sunday evening. The two of them only agreed to stop once when they neared D.C to get dinner.

Stopping at a cute diner, one that looked right out of the 80’s, Y/N was in love with everything from their weekend together. The pictures they took, the time they spent together. The indoor pool and hot tub in the hotel. Thankfully she could take off her boot whenever she wanted so she got to enjoy her time.

“You do know… that now this week you’re going to be taking it easy.” Thomas said as he pointed at her with the straw from his milkshake he had. Causing Y/N to pout.

Nodding either way, she slumped back against the booth seat she sat in. “Yeah, my leg kinda aches now that we’re not on the move… though the massages you had been giving were amazing.” She playfully batted her eyelashes at him, causing the two to laugh together.

“Here you two go… dessert is on the house. The two of you make such a cute couple. Nice to see young love still exists.” Their waitress, a king old lady said as she set the check on the table.

Y/N beamed with happiness and thanked the lady before Thomas and her started on the argument on who was going to pay for dinner. In the end they split the check and headed back to the car together. Holding hands and a comfortable silence between the two.

With still two hours until they arrived home, Y/N fell asleep against the car window curled up with a pillow under her head and Thomas’ jacket over her body.

Arriving home, Thomas didn’t even bother in waking her up. Instead he was careful in opening the car door on Y/N’s side and carrying her inside the house. She had woken up as soon as he had picked her up from the passenger side seat, but she kept her eyes shut and let him take her inside. Hearing him say a soft hello to someone, Y/N assumed it was his parents, she just snuggled closer to his body and giggled when she felt his long fingers dig into her side. “You’re awake you little minx?” she heard him whisper and Y/N let out a small laugh.

“Take me to bed!” she groaned and pinched him back with a pout in her face and glanced up at him with puppy dog eyes.

He just smiled and Y/N noticed that Thomas took her into his bedroom. “If you think you’ll be sleeping away from me after this weekend? Guess again.” He laughed and gave her a kiss to the forehead.

Watching him walk out of the room, claiming he was going to grab their bags from the car. Y/N nodded her head before curling up under the blanket and grabbing her phone that she had put in the waistband of the leggings she was wearing.

Checking her messages and assuring all her friends and brother that she was back at the Jefferson house safe and sound. She sighed at all the messages Alexander started to send to her. She sent the middle finger to the guy and set her phone down.

Laying there, hearing Thomas talk to his parents, Y/N smiled and thought back to the weekend they shared. The laughter by the beach, walking and buying stupid things for their friends. Dressing up and dressing down, going to shows and having the kiss while they rode the Ferris whee even late night drives, happy to be somewhere where no one knew them. It was a magical weekend and Y/N could only hope that the two would be able to do it again in the summer so they would be able to actually go and swim in the beach and have fun in the sun instead of being cold.

Camera Roll:

Taglist: @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth - @exquisite-dreamers - @ballerinafairyprincess - @thefandomgirl03 - @criminallyhamilton - @1elysium - @slytherinsssss - @youtxbemusic - @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore - @sabbrriiinnaa - @yes-i-know-im-weird-blog - @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon- @wtfevenismypage - @namethathasnotbeentaken - @cubedtriangle - @a-hopeless-fan - @namelesslosers - @randomhunam - @i-know-i-can - @ryjo-92 - @lunariasilver - @mydearestlaurens - @meganlpie​ 

Forever Tags: @itsjube - @theroadtoeldorado​ - @rottendaisies​

A/N: SO i have been away for quite some time. I have had this written for a while and I just never had the time to actually stop and post it. I’ll be coming back to continue to write. SO If y’all still wanna be tagged. give me a shout out :) <3 

[youarejesting]

Forever (finale)

Rating: Teen and Up Genre: Mystery, Romance, Drama, Action, Angst, Paranormal. Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Summary: In Bightville there is never any nonsense, the scariest thing one might face is tripping at the roller-disco. But, when you move to the small town, crazy things start to happen. Suddenly people are going missing without any leads. It’s when your neighbor Seokjin goes missing that things get serious because now his friends suspect you!

Announcement: It’s the end and oh my gosh I love it...

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“It’s been decided Jungkook and Jimin will head out quietly and try to find this opening, they will radio back if they find it, and then we will head out in teams of two” Seokjin sighed the man was looking tired the days in the spirit world was causing him to look more tired and withered.

“Wait so some of us have to wait here alone?” Hoseok said concerned he didn’t want to be one of the last, he would definitely be one of the members of the second team.

“We can’t all go at once there would be a higher chance of us being spotted and I don’t think we are all wanting to fight one of those things” Namjoon explained and they nodded.

The two boys got dressed holding their makeshift weapons and headed out walkie talkie in hand, their instructions to only use it when necessary. They moved quickly and quietly down the hall until they turned down the stairs out of sight. The group waited.

Half an hour passed and you sat in the corner laying your head back against the wall, something about this place sucked the warmth from your form. Yoongi slid down the wall pressing his side against yours to keep you warm.

You all almost ran out of hope when Namjoon spoke up, “there isn’t much we can do, until we hear back from them”

“What if we don’t?”

“Then we send another two out to find them or the exit”

“I hate this plan?” Taehyung muttered scuffing his foot through the dirt

“It’s the only plan we have?” Seokjin offered using his calm voice in an authoritative manner. 

“Hey we found it, we are here?” a voice called over static “you need to get around the side of the house and into the cellar the doors are open and you take the stairs down and head through the web. 

“Alright” Seokjin said “Namjoon and I will head out next, Namjoon will need to be careful so we will give him as much time as he needs to get through that web. I will wait near the entrance for the next teams to come along until we are all out”

The next too left and it was barely fifteen minutes before Taehung and Hoseok left kind of rushed. 

That left you and Yoongi with Johnny who looked down at his leg wrapped firmly around a broken table leg. 

“It might be easier to go without me” he scoffed

“Not like anyone really missed me anyway, the hardly even know me”

“You’re Johnny, you play the piano we had the same piano teacher, remember and you can draw really well” Yoongi scoffed “your family is worried and the school has been trying to find out where you went”

“We should get ready to go” Yoongi said helping you up off the ground. He handed you his jacket and you smiled at how his scent lingered in the fabric enjoying the calming effect it had on you. He took the two lapels and slowly zipped them together.

You two grinned helping Johnny to his feet and it was a slow process of traveling through the school and the streets towards your house. It was hard but you were keeping out of sight and traveling. They see the other group moving and Seokjin in the distance signalling for them to wait as Hoseok and Taehyung head through. 

In their haste Hoseok tripped over your younger snot nosed brothers bike -the very same you stressed he clean up every day- bumping the web the two boys race through the web.

You knew they were coming and in a split second you three ran across the lawn, racing your best through the web with Seokjin helping Johnny through in front of you. You could hear them coming, the hands of the boys in the real world reaching out to pull you through the burrow between the worlds. When you felt something grab the jacket, your name softly spoken you turned to see Yoongi. He gave you a forlorn look and he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you hard and pushed you into the arms. Running from the webs and the siren on the walkie talkie blaring as he ran further away.

The hands were pulling you through the portal and you were a mess of tears struggling, unable to see, you finally found the perfect guy, he didn’t expect you to fit the norms as he definitely didn’t fit them either. 

You were in the basement of your home unable to see as everything was burned with tears, Yoongi’s voice came over the walkie talkie in a pant, he was running still alive, still fighting, “Y/n, did you get through?”

You sobbed scrambling across the floor to get the walkie talkie “I am okay, where are you, you have to come through. You have to get back here and come through -”

“They are filling the web, I don’t know how long we have ?” Jungkook said keeping this end of the web firmly pressed shut clawed arms busting through

“Shut it down” Yoongi said calmly over the radio “I am surrounded”

“No, I will go back in and fight them off” You hissed, the ache in your chest burning and tight making it hard to breathe “You promised”

“I’m sorry” He whispered

“You promised, we were going to see kingkong, you promised” the words were barely legible but he understood.

“I did promise, but maybe some other time love,” He took a shaky breath, “shut it down kook”

They ripped apart the objects around the crawl space in the wall effectively ripping apart the connection between the two worlds.

You were all found in the basement crying, your parents were confused and the police were called, you were all interrogated and you explained everything as it happened sparing no detail on the abnormal. That night you were inconsolable, crying in your bed, the jacket clutched in your hands the words ‘It’s okay not to be okay’, breaking you more.

The police wrote it off as drugs and judging from the injuries and the extensive amounts of mud and dirt on their clothes they assumed the group had ventured into the woods. For some cult business. It took a week before the investigation was called off, they found Yoongi’s boot on the edge of the river and called it an accidental drug related death.

The funeral for Yoongi was small, his parents weren’t upset rather annoyed, you heard them in the next room blaming him. “If he didn’t die, I wouldn’t be here” His father frowned

“I don’t know how he lasted this long,” his older sister hissed

“Can you believe they want me to pay $1,000 for his funeral, he doesn’t even have a body,” His father sighed

“Be thankful he was dumb enough to die in the river, otherwise you would be paying more” His sister called

“Where is that bastards mother?” He sighed “Why am I paying for him, I haven’t even seen him since we split, and yet here I am the one having to pay”

Biting your lip, you were grabbed by Namjoon who lead you out to Yoongi’s car, “we took some stuff from his house, before his family could throw it away and um, if there is anything you like please feel free to take it.”

You found a few shirts and jackets with some slogans that made you feel like he was still supporting you even when he wasn’t here. But it was when you came across a collection of cassettes that you pause in confusion, Jimin laughed. “Yoongi has a tendency to write songs about everyone he meets,”

You watched him fondly touch the cassette with his name on it, you pulled out one with your name on it. The letters written in such unique handwriting that was very yoongi, laid back but simple. Jimin pulled out another titled ‘a night with her and the boys’. “Try this one too, it might be good”

You took his recording system in hopes you could listen to his work in your home and feel that connection with him. Heading straight up to your room ignoring all distractions. Setting up the machine you began by slipping in the cassette and placing on the headphones.

It was beautiful, the sound was beautiful and the song spoke of your beauty, but when the chorus hit, the drums, guitar and synth came in and he spoke about your personality. You were laughing, he summed you up so well, you felt your heart swell in the last line. 

What a bitch.

She’s hot and she knows it.

And I can’t stop thinking about her.

It had you in stitches. You switched the song over to ‘a night with her and the boys’ and you couldn’t help but cry, he told a story about noticing you and the feelings you were trying to hide. He sang about you coming clean of your emotions, said he would protect you even though you didn’t need it, that he wanted to hold you because you looked so cold.

The song ended but there was more space left on the tape, you listened for thirty seconds but their didn’t seem to be anything on it. You took the small microphone and spoke into the machine, “I don’t know um how this works, but I love you” Turning it off you went to the shower, when you came back it was running, the tape had reached the end. Rewinding it you played it through, again while finding something to wear to bed.

When the song reached the end, you had finally found a warm set of pajama pants that you matched with one of yoongi’s shirts. You buried your face in the collar breathing in the scent, you went to turn of the machine which was whirring. “I don’t know um how this works, but I love you”.

You were embarrassed quickly rushing to turn it off, “God I am so embarrassing,”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice, I love you too, are you doing alright?”

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[menswearmusings]

Refined Style or Simply Farce? Refining Your Style While Broadening Your Base

I joked to a friend who leans socialist that his new circular, metal glasses made him look like Lenin. He quipped, “We all devolve into farce as we get older, so why not embrace it?”

Spend a decade being interested in any subject or hobby and if it still holds a grip on you, that interest goes one of two ways: 1. You expand your horizons ever broader seeking the novel, reinventing your interest, or 2. You double down on the parts that excite you the most, whittling away the extraneous as you try to find its pure core. In other words, you either get into weird proportions and cropped pleated drop crotch pants, or you buy 7 pairs of identical shoes so you can wear one every day of the week.

I’ve never understood the guys who completely change lanes and get into wildly different clothes (no condemnation, I just don’t understand it). You won’t catch me dressing in hype sneakers and cargo pants or whatever for 2-3 years before switching again completely. Maybe I’m just slower and more risk-averse than others, so trying out totally different styles is off the table for me. I’m more the hone-in type of guy.

However, there is a balance between the two paths, and that is the different modes of life we all live in. As an example, I’m a tailoring guy through and through, and that’s my default mode of dressing for normal adult life. But as life has changed for me, it’s forced me to address those new circumstances in my wardrobe. In 2015, my wife and I took a trip to Italy, and I wore a blazer every single day. Then in 2019 when we returned, we had a 1-year-old in tow and we had a good deal of walking/hiking on the itinerary. I carried him in a backpack on those hikes. So instead of blazers everyday I had a lightweight M65 style jacket from Corridor, light sweaters, polo shirts, etc. Everything I wore was still within the realm of “my style,” but just more in tune with the activities we were doing and the reality of a small child.

I’ll admit it took me a long time to land on that Corridor M65. I’ve spent so long pursuing the Neapolitan + modern Ivy tailored look I love so much that I had trouble finding a lightweight, casual outer layer that I liked and would be functional. I tried chore coats, looked at weird skater kimonos from 18 East, considered Filson at one point; nothing was doing it for me. I found that M65 and was so thankful for it.

So how do you broaden your horizons for the different modes of life while still staying true to your style? Here are some ideas.

1. Broaden the list of inspirational, stylish people you follow

I have a fairly focused Instagram feed because my tolerance for crappy-looking menswear is very low. So I follow lots of tailoring houses and style-focused accounts, not many of whom post many fits outside that range. That means it’s hard to find inspiration for other modes of dressing. So break out of your rut and look for new accounts, blogs and YouTube videos to follow. Instagram’s Discover tab can help a certain amount (though boy oh boy do they really want you to watch their TikToks—I mean Reels). Following some hashtags can work, too, though again those can lead to crappy menswear photos so choose wisely. You can also just do it manually and look at the “following” list of other menswear accounts you follow to see if you like any that are different from the ones you already follow.

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2. Don’t be afraid to experiment and possibly fail, publicly if you’re comfortable

Try that bomber with the tailored trouser look. See if the hiking boots look cool with the denim and blazer. Order that weird kimono thing and try it on to see if it’s as cool as you think. If you post online somewhere (like Styleforum, the Reddit male fashion advice place, or Instagram), don’t be afraid to put it up and ask for honest input. Outside opinions can really be helpful, and sometimes failing provides for a better teachable moment than posting something fine or safe.

3. Write down certain situations and specific types of clothing you’re looking for to guide you down the path

It’s kind of overwhelming to think about expanding your wardrobe to new clothes for new circumstances. It can seem like you’ll need a whole new wardrobe. So my suggestion is simply to focus on the individual pieces you keep thinking to yourself “Ah, I wish I had something like ___ right now” and look just for that. That Corridor M65 I mentioned earlier was actually a jacket type I had been looking for for months and months: a lightweight outer layer with easily accessible pockets that I could put random stuff in when having bonfires or doing house projects, that I wouldn’t worry about getting dirty and which could be washed easily, but which was also designed to be a little dressier so that it wouldn’t look so out of place with a button-up shirt. The Corridor jacket’s hidden buttons, navy fabric and contemporary fit all make it fit those criteria well.

As life changes for you personally (and collectively in how we work and travel due to the pandemic), allow the changes to explore new facets of your style, whittling away the extraneous in each mode of life to be the most well rounded, stylish and on-target guy you know. In the end, we all devolve into farce as we get older, so why not embrace it?

Just bury me in navy on top and white jeans with suede shoes. That’s the pure core of my style.

(Help support this site! If you buy stuff through my links, your clicks and purchases earn me a commission from many of the retailers I feature, and it helps me sustain this site—as well as my menswear habit ;-)  Thanks!)

If you’re just getting into tailored menswear and want a single helpful guide to building a trend-proof wardrobe, buy my eBook. It’s only $5 and covers wardrobe essentials for any guy who wants to look cool, feel cool and make a good impression. Formatted for your phone or computer/iPad so it’s not annoying to read, and it’s full of pretty pictures, not just boring prose. Buy it here.

Read more at Menswear Musings

[invisibleraven]

A Klainemas Waltz

Day Nine: Inconclusive

Burt went to file the paperwork for his new guests and came across a familiar figure setting up in his lobby. “Well if it isn’t Mayor Jones!” 

“Hey Mister H.” Mercedes said, embracing him tightly. She then saw Kurt coming right behind his father and hugged him to her. “Oh I am so glad to see you. It’s been too long.”

 “Mayor Jones, I still can’t get over it.” Kurt said, grasping her hands in his. Honestly, he was so proud of Mercedes, she had done so well for herself in a field he never thought to consider for her.

“Neither can the guy I beat.” Mercedes said with a wink. “You are here just in time for the official kickoff.” At Kurt’s questioning glance, “Didn’t your dad tell you?” She shot Burt off a look who held his hands up in defence.

“I thought you’d want to yourself.” Burt replied, and went off to get some things done before dinner. Mercedes led Kurt over to the display she had set up, giving it a fancy gesture.

“A Kenstbury Christmas! I decided to put together all of the wonderful events the town does at this time of year under one umbrella, with the inn being Christmas central. And of course, the piece de resistance is the Pyjama Ball on Christmas Eve.” 

“When you put it together like this, it’s even more special. You know, you’re pretty good at this whole mayor thing.” Kurt said, taking her arm in hopes they could have a proper catch up. 

“Who knew?” Mercedes said, the cheek evident in her voice.

“I knew.” Kurt replied. They both giggled as Blaine descended the stairs, Mercedes taking him in with a smile but immediately getting the vibe that he would be far more interested in Kurt than herself. 

Burt looked up from the paperwork he was filing to smile. “Hi, how can I help you?”

“I was looking for the pillow menus?” Blaine asked, a bit hesitant. 

“The what?” Kurt asked, cocking his head to make sure he had heard right. 

“So we can choose our pillows before we retire for the evening. Foam, down, side sleeper…” he traipsed off “I’m guessing that’s not something you offer here.”

“No…” Burt replied, looking at Blaine a little strangely. Rich and royal people were weird, he decided, and used far too many luxuries. Pillow menu indeed. But he bit his tongue to avoid offending someone who probably had guards at his disposal and a diplomatic immunity to boot. 

 “Well, sorry to have bothered you. I suppose we can survive one night.” 

“Oh you’re very brave.” Kurt quipped, smiling a little. Blaine was cute, but so very uptight and honestly Kurt wanted to see what a real life prince would be like if he let loose a little. Even seeing the man give a full blown smile would have been great, though Kurt was also sure it would melt his knees in the process. 

Blaine looked a bit bewildered, as if he wasn’t sure about the sarcasm, so he just thanked Kurt and went back upstairs, nodding briefly as he did. 

“That’s who he looks like!” Mercedes said once Blaine was out of earshot. “He looks just like Prince Blaine of Gallwick.”

“How would you know what he looks like?” Kurt asked, shooting his father a nervous glance. 

“Oh honey I follow all the royal hashtags and media. See?” She showed Kurt her phone, showcasing a recent shot of Blaine at the very hospital where Kurt worked. “Looks just like him.” 

“Okay, don’t tell anybody but that really is him.” Kurt whispered. 

“Uh-huh.” Mercedes said, but then caught sight of Blaine talking to his mother on the upper landing. “Is that the queen?” she shrieked, Kurt shushing her and pulling her away into one of the few sitting rooms the inn housed. 

“Okay, what are they doing here?” Mercedes demanded once they were alone. 

“I...picked them up at a coffee shop on the way out of Boston. Offered the prince a doughnut.” 

“Nope! Not buying it! Royals don’t eat doughnuts.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Kurt muttered. “It’s true. I drove them here because they need a place to stay until the storm clears tomorrow.” 

“In that case do you think I could get a photo for the town’s social media?”

“No, they don’t want anyone to know they’re here, we’d be mobbed.” 

“Even better, it’s great publicity for a Kenstbury Christmas!”

“No. They only had a small entourage as it is, and they made it out on an earlier flight.”

Mercedes sighed, blowing out a breath. “Fine, I’ll keep it to myself. But you owe me.” She then looked up. “Oh wow, he is gorgeous.”

“Until he opens his mouth yeah.”

“Not him.” Mercedes said, then gestured with her eyes and a small nod of her head until Kurt turned and saw Sam. And yes, he was pretty good looking, but blondes had never been his type, and he didn’t get any pings on his radar from him. 

“Hi Sam, how can I help?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just had a quick question about security. I’ve done a perimeter check and...hi!” Sam stopped talking, taking in Mercedes, her mouth splitting into an enormous smile. Kurt turned and saw his friend mirroring the expression, and had to bite his lip to hold in a grin. 

“I’m Sam Evans.” he said, holding out a hand.

“Mercedes Jones.”

“Sam is here with our special guests.” Kurt whispered.

“I was wondering if there was someone I could talk to about hiring a little extra security while we’re here.” Sam said, finally tearing his eyes away from Mercedes to ask Kurt. 

“Oh, I’ll have to take you to the town’s mayor to talk about that.” Kurt replied, then stepped back so Mercedes could step forward. 

“You’re the mayor?” Sam asked, his face full of amazement and it was easy to see he was impressed more than surprised.

“Shall we discuss security for our special guests over some hot cider?” Sam smiled, and escorted them towards the front door, Kurt giving Mercedes a very not subtle thumbs up as she looked back, a happy bit of a freak out on her face. 

Kurt was rounding the front desk to double check the bookings for his dad who could be seen salting the walkway when Blaine appeared once more. 

“I wanted to say before i forgot that we really do appreciate everything you’re doing for us and what you’ve done already.”

Kurt looked at him, and gave a thoughtful smirk “Did your mother tell you to come down?” 

“I’m a grown adult, the crown prince of Gallwick, I don’t need my mother to tell me how to be polite.” Blaine replied, but he looked a little uncomfortable about being called out.

“Of course. But tell her I said you’re welcome.” Kurt replied, shaking his head fondly as Blaine retreated. Of all the handsome princes he could have run into, he landed this one... 

[ourooboroos]

(you make me) dizzy in my head

Read on my ao3 or continue under the cut!

You make me dance like a fool Forget how to breathe Shine like gold, buzz like a bee Just the thought of you can drive me wild Oh, you make me smile

-Uncle Kracker, "Smile"

Magnus knows he should’ve put his TikTok account on private.

It’s too late now, he supposes, sitting in his car in the school parking lot, watching students file into the building. The damage is done. Thousands of people have seen the video he made in his bathroom at nearly one in the morning, too hyped up to sleep, too impatient for Catarina to text him back, and too impulsive for his own good. He had to voice his thoughts somewhere .

It wasn’t even the first time he’d made a video like this -- this one is just the most embarrassing. He remembers recording it and being so, absolutely sure of his own words.

“So I have a problem,” Magnus said, floating into the bathroom and aiming the camera at his reflection in the mirror. He spoke slowly, words drawn out. “I don’t know how to ask him out. I want to ask him out. He’s so fucking cute, guys, and he’s so kind and funny and -- well, you’ve seen my other videos. I just want him to love me!”

The worst part isn’t even that thousands of people have seen it, after it having appeared on a bunch of their front pages, apparently. It’s that, at exactly 6:45 in the morning, he woke up to a text from one Isabelle Lightwood that just said, “Fucking cute, huh?”

Fuck.

She’d seen it. She’d seen them . And she’d pieced it together.

Now he has to go to school knowing that his crush’s sister absolutely knows about his crush. And Izzy isn’t exactly the subtle, hands-off type. He wouldn’t even be surprised if she’d already told Alec. Magnus buries his head in his hands and groans.

There are three of them -- four including the new one -- and each one is a little more embarrassing.  

* The first video happens in early October. Alec is over at Magnus’s house, and they’re sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a project for Latin class. Magnus is trying to conjugate a list of words into perfect indicative, while Alec searches for something in his textbook. When Magnus lets out a grown of frustration, Alec snorts, and shuffles quickly and quietly in his seat so that his knee is pressed against Magnus. Magnus freezes for a moment before letting his knee press back, and Alec doesn’t shift again.

So of course Magnus posts soon after Alec leaves his house. Apparently he’s supposed to meet his family for dinner; his grandparents are in town. Magnus waves as Alec backs out of his driveway. He’s trying not to grin like a doofus, but he’s not sure that it’s working. When Alec’s car disappears around the block, Magnus runs to his bathroom.

“Guys,” he says, out of breath, into the mirror and his phone. “Guys, the guy I like just came over to work on school stuff and he sat so close to me our knees touched on purpose and I know that sounds stupid but holy shit, he’s so wonderful. He said I was the best project partner he’s ever had. Also, he smelled really good -- like lemongrass and pine and -- I just!” He runs a hand down his face and his video runs out of time. Alight with nervous energy, he posts it, hashtag free.

* Magnus makes the second video on Halloween.

This video is recorded in Magnus’s car; he’s sitting in his driveway, mind racing even as he tries to somewhat coherently narrate what has just happened, the night he’s just had. He plays it back even as he speaks about it.

He drives to Andrew’s house, windows down and letting the crisp fall air in. His hat nearly flies off his head and he holds it on as he turns down Andrew’s road, parks down the street. His makeshift pirate costume is immaculate, he has to admit; as he walks to Andrew’s he adjusts his clothes -- tight black pants and tall boots, a ruffled white shirt, and a red sash tied around his waist. He carries a plastic cutlass, and a tricorn hat sits on his carefully tousled hair.

Andrew’s house is loud, party in full swing by the time he gets there. He lets himself in, says hi to Andrew, and grabs a drink -- a soda since he’s driving himself. He’s just settled into a corner with Cat and Dot when a tall Spider-Man appears, skin tight suit leaving little to the imagination. The costumed man gives a friendly wave to Cat and Dot but turns to Magnus. Magnus tries not to stare at the obvious planes of his chest, or the muscles of his thighs, or the way his biceps stretch the lycra of his suit, but hell, it’s hard.

“Nice hat,” Spider-Man says, voice muffled behind his mask. He points to the top of his head as if to clarify. It sounds as though he’s smiling.

Magnus raises an eyebrow, amused. He peers at the eyes of the costume, but can’t see through the dark, dense mesh. This costumed classmate will remain a mystery, apparently. “Thank you, o glorious web-slinger.”

Spider-Man laughs. “Nice sword, too. Looks like you could kill a man.”

“If only it weren’t plastic.” He thumps the sword in his hand.

Spider-Man hums in response and shifts his weight, leaning a little too far and almost falling. He places a hand on the wall to balance himself. For the first time, Magnus notices that he’s holding a near-empty cup.

“How much have you had to drink tonight, Spidey?”

“A couple cups of… whatever this is.” His head tilts down and he sloshes the liquid in the cup around. “Punch, I guess?”

“You should be careful; Andrew uses an obscene amount of vodka in his punch.”

Spider-Man makes an odd noise, then. Magnus stares at him. “I thought it tasted funny.”

“You… you didn’t know it had alcohol in it?”

“I don’t really drink.” And with that, he sets what’s his cup on a bookshelf nearby. He wrings his gloved hands. “I guess it figures though -- I needed a bit of courage to come talk to you.”

Magnus scoffs. “Why?”

He pauses, stills his movements. Magnus is about to just ask him who he is when Spider-Man says, quietly, “Because you’re stunning,” and quickly turns and walks away. Magnus watches him go, mouth parted in confusion.

It isn’t until Magnus is hugging Cat and Dot, saying goodbye, and turning to leave, that he sees it; Alec, sitting on Andrew’s couch, eyes lit up in laughter, wearing a blue and red Spider-Man suit.

* The third video comes a week into November.

Magnus is in class, his mind drifting as Mrs. Penhallow flips through a powerpoint about the Cold War. He’s nearly fallen asleep when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Frowning, he pulls it out, dims the screen, and hides it under his desk.

It’s a text from Alec. Who’s sitting just across the room. Magnus glances at him, but Alec’s staring intently at Mrs. Penhallow, though there’s a small smile threatening his concentrated expression. Magnus looks back to the text.

A: What happens to a frog’s car when it breaks down? It gets toad away!

Magnus snorts, and covers it with a cough, but luckily Mrs. Penhallow ignores him and keeps plowing through her presentation. Magnus quickly writes back.

M: Why did the team of witches lose their baseball game? Their bats flew away.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Alec subtly reads the text and grins broadly. His own phone vibrates a second later.

A: Did you know a kangaroo can jump higher than the Empire State Building? It makes sense, since the Empire State Building can’t jump.

M: Why did the can crusher quit his job? It was soda pressing.

A: Why did Adele cross the road? To sing Hello from the other side. M: Humpty Dumpty loves autumn. Every year he has a great fall.

They trade jokes back and forth for the rest of class, each of them hiding their smirks in their palms and their phones on their laps. It makes the period go by quickly, and Mrs. Penhallow has just finished her powerpoint and the bell rings when Magnus’s phone vibrates one more time:

A: If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.

Magnus pauses as his classmates quickly throw their books in their bags and rise from their desks. He reads the text again. And again, just to make sure he’d read it right. He looks up, eyes searching for Alec, only to see that he’s already left.

He posts the new TikTok that afternoon. It ends with him just about yelling, “A stupid pick up line shouldn’t make my heart race like that!” into his mirror.

*

The fourth one, the final one, the one that apparently breaks the camel’s back, is inspired by a text. Not even a particularly riveting or important one. Magnus is laying in bed the Sunday after Thanksgiving, dreading going to school the next day. There’s something about going back to a regular schedule after holidays and breaks -- even a break as short as this one -- that fills him with anxiety. He rolls over, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, when his phone lights up.

I hope you had a good Thanksgiving, Magnus! I’ll see you tomorrow.

It’s from Alec.

And Magnus keeps reading it, over and over. He hasn’t spoken to Alec since the Tuesday before break when they had Latin together and Alec had dropped his pen. Magnus had grabbed it for him so he didn’t have to lean awkwardly over this desk to grab it, and Alec had said thank you and grinned and Magnus had nodded and tried to regulate his breathing.

But apparently Alec thought of him just now, before they went back to school, and at 12:37 at night, when he probably thought Magnus was asleep. Magnus makes a sound he would be embarrassed about if anyone was around to hear it. He knows that Cat’s asleep by now -- she always goes to bed at ten on school nights -- so he gets up and stumbles through the dark room to his bathroom mirror.

*

Magnus is still in his car, waiting until the absolute last second he can before he’ll be late to run into the school, when someone knocks on the passenger side window.

He startles and whips his head around to see Alec, leaning over to peer into Magnus’s sedan. Magnus’s eyes widen and he slowly unlocks the car.

Alec opens the door and slides into the seat, dropping his bag in the footwell. “Hey,” he says quietly. Magnus fiddles with the keychains hanging off of his keys, still in the ignition, but he can feel Alec watching him.

“Hi,” he replies, smiling weakly.

There’s quiet, and Magnus wants to bang his head into the steering wheel. He has never once felt this awkward around Alec before. But what is he supposed to say? He can’t deny making the videos, and he certainly can’t deny that they’re about Alec. For fuck’s sake, he had gone into detail about his thighs in his Spider-Man costume.

“So,” Alec says. Magnus glances at him for a second, but Alec immediately meets his eyes, and Magnus can feel the heat rising up his neck. He turns away. “So, uh.” He pauses and Magnus can hear him curse, exhale loudly. “Sorry, I don’t have any vodka this time.”

That gets a snort from Magnus, even as he focuses his gaze on the dashboard.

Alec’s voice is soft, hesitant, when he speaks. “Did you mean it?”

Magnus finally turns, shifting in his seat. Alec’s staring at his hands now, wringing them in his lap. “You think I embarrassed myself online just for some meager views?”

The corner of Alec’s mouth quirks. “Not embarrassing.” Magnus snorts again, turning back to the dashboard, but Alec stops fiddling and reaches a warm hand out. It covers Magnus’s where he toys with the keychains hanging from the ignition, and Magnus pauses. “Really. Not embarrassing.”

Magnus swallows thickly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Alec’s smile grows. He nods, one eyebrow raised. “I’d like to hear more of your opinions on my Halloween costume, actually.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Magnus’s voice is without heat, and Alec laughs. Magnus smiles back at him. “Yes. I meant it.”

And Alec’s smile is radiant. His hazel eyes crinkle at the corners and now Magnus can’t stop looking at him, can’t not look at him when he looks like actual, literal sunshine. “Good.”

* “Hey guys,” Magnus says, twisting into the bathroom and aiming the camera at the mirror. “Too many of you watched my last video, so unfortunately--” He breaks off as a cackle sounds from the doorway. “Shush, I’m making a video!”

Alec sticks his head into the room, slides into frame, grin wide on his face. Magnus thinks he’ll never get sick of that smile. “So unfortunately he has to deal with me now,” Alec says, wrapping his arm around Magnus’s waist and tugging him close.

“Okay, maybe it’s not so unfortunate.”

The sixty-seconds timer ends just as Magnus turns and pulls Alec into a kiss.

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode Three: Catch And Release

View on Google Docs

Summary: June 1, 2015 - Sammy & Ben are live at Lake Hatchenhaw for the 55th Annual King Falls Bass Tournament with special guest Mayor Grisham.

[Podcast intro music]

[Banjo music]

Randy McMullet [heavy southern accent] Howdy y’all! It’s Randy McMullet from McMullet’s International Palace of Snake Skin Boots and I’m here to tell you we got some slithery savings this weekend! So much savings you’ll have a hissy fit! We’re not holdin’ anything back ‘cause it’s that time of year again! It’s our annual Snake Skin Blowout! I’m talkin’ ‘bout rattlesnake, copperhead, viper, black mamba, and boa constrictor. We got big snake boots at baby snake prices! Ya better hurry though before our inventory is extinct! So come on down to McMullet’s International Palace of Snake Skin Boots! We’ll be there from sun up to sun down this Saturday and Sunday at the corner of Route 72 and ol’ Bombin’ Range Road! McMullet’s International Palace of Snake Skin Boots! Where we fill your boots, with savin’s!

[Banjo music fades out]

[KFAM rock intro music]

Sammy Good morning! You’re listening to King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the radio dial. It’s twelve minutes to six and a beautiful 67 degrees out here at Lake Hatchenhaw.

Ben We are mere minutes away from the starter pistol going off signaling the beginning of the 55th annual King Falls Bass Tournament.

Sammy Ben! I couldn’t have said that better myself, you’re a natural!

Ben [“aw shucks”] Whatever, Sammy.

Sammy But you heard it, kids! The tournament’s about to get under way, but the festivities will be happening all day today. Be sure to swing on by the King Falls AM booth, pick up a bumper sticker, say hi to your favorite personalities, that sort of thing.

Ben And, of course, don’t forget to tweet us your pics today @KingFallsAM or Instagram us with the hashtag kingfalls, and we will repost those bad boys.

Sammy Absolutely, Ben. But just because this show is winding down, doesn’t mean we’re going to sleep on you! We’ve got a guest!

Ben We’re here with Ron Begley, of Begley’s Bait and Tackle. Sponsor of today’s outing.

[note: Ron’s voice can generally be described as “gruff”, any descriptors in transcription are more-so]

Ron [gruffly] Watch it, Ben. Outing is a big word. This is a gathering. 

Sammy Hey, nice to meet ya, Ron!

Ron [sweetly] Nice meetin’ you too, Sammy! And always good to see you, Ben.

Sammy Now, Ron. For all the listeners on the fence about making their way down to the Tourney today, what would you tell ‘em to change their minds?

Ron Ah hell, if they aren’t here now, they ain’t coming.

Ben Metaphorically though—

Ron [harshly] Don’t use ten dollar words when a five dollar word will suffice, Ben. If the lazy bastards aren’t up an’ at em and waiting on Mayor Grisham to fire that pistol, then there ain’t no convincing them otherwise.

Sammy Well, you know what- We’ve got quite the turn out here it seems, so uh, maybe everybody made it down?

Ron [aggressively] I’ll give you fifty damn bucks if you show me Shell Snyder’s fat ass at this lake right now!

Ben Uhhh, I’m sure-

Ron I saw that lazy son of a bitch at the town hidey-hole last night, and I know he hasn’t drug his carcass outta bed.

Sammy Hidey-hole?

Ben Don’t ask.

Ron You want something that’ll put some asses in the seats? I’ll give you somethin’ and this one’s for free. Today we got the fishing tournament, we got the bouncy house for the kiddies, we got that weird food truck that nobody ever eats at but it still shows up to all the King Falls events,

Ben Aaand?

Ron [teasing] And you know where I’m going, Ben. And just last week out by the sunken pontoon boats… We had a sighting!

Ben By the BOATS? That is so close.

Sammy Alright guys. You got me. What did we see?

Ben Sammy—

Ron Why, the Lake Hatchenhaw monster, Sammy!

Sammy Monster.

Ron Why the hell didn’t you Wikipedia-Google-book this town before you moved your sweet ass to it?! Everybody in creation knows about the Lake Hatchenhaw monster!

Sammy Alright, *chuckles* I’m sorry. Uhhh, I don’t mean to be rude, Ron, but you’re talking about your own version of the Loch—

Ron Don’t. Say it. Don’t even think it! That fake sh[bleep]show of a lake monster has nothin’ on Kingsie.

Ben You’ll have to pardon Sammy. He doesn’t believe in the extra-ordinary.

Ron [softly for Ron] What a sad life you must live, Samuel.

Ben So, Ron. This will be the fifth sighting this year, is that correct?

Ron [happy/proud] Fifth this year! She’s been a busy one. Since I took over this shop from my dad, I don’t know that we ever got Kingsie more than twice a year.

Sammy Well, ya heard it here ladies and gents. Uh, If tournament, the bouncy house, and the weird food truck don’t get you down— Kingsie will.

Ron That’s the spirit!

Sammy *chuckles* Okay, about the tournament, Ron. What exactly is on the line here? Wha-Whats the prize today?

Ron Same as every year, Sammy! Brand new bass boat with all the fixin’s and a 500 dollar check from the King Falls Chamber of Commerce.

Sammy That is a hell of a prize! I might just put the mic down and have a go myself, guys!

Ron More than welcome! [gruffly] But you better bring Ben along so you don’t end up as a “fictional lake monster”’s din-din.

Ben *sighs* I’d love to be out on that lake today! Nothing like it!

Sammy Ron Begley, everyone. Uh, Ron, thanks for dropping by and adding some color to the end of our broadcast today!

Ron [quiet and angry] Is that a gay joke, Sammy?

Sammy Uh, I-I’m sorry, what?

Ben Ron, not. At all.

Ron [threateningly] I’m not going to come on this show, and have you talkin’ trash. I’m the only soul brave enough in this town to own my identity and I’m not going to take any flack about it—

Sammy Ron. Ron. No harm was intended. I-I didn’t even know.

Ron [angry, almost shouting] Well now you do so watch your mouth! I like f[bleep]in’ and I like fightin’ and I’m completely sure you don’t want any part of either!

Sammy I-I Ron. *nervous laugh* I mean—

Ron [pleasantly] I’m just jerkin’ your chain, Sammy! Keep up the good work, guys!

Ben *Laughing loudly* Oh, you should see your face!

Sammy Thanks, Ben. Uh—

Some Guy *Slurred* Heyy Ben! What up duuude?

Ben Heyy, uh, Matt! Uhhh. We’re-we’re kinda live here, buddy.

Matt Riiight on! … maintain brah…

Ben Sorry.

Sammy Oh, no worries, bro.

Ben Uh, uh- alright folks! You’ll never believe who we’ve got heading this way! The man of the hour, the man with all the power… Mayor Grisham.

Sammy Mayor Grisham. Thanks so much for taking some time out to talk with us today!

Mayor Grisham Oh, I’ve been wanting to! Believe me. But you boys are on so darn early! I just can’t drag myself out of the bed.

Sammy Understandable.

Mayor Grisham However, my assistant, Riley, transcribes every show for me. Seems like you’re doing a great job. The both of you.

Ben Oh! Thanks so much, Mayor Grisham!

Mayor Grisham You got it, Ben! Hey, how’s your mom doing these days?

Ben Great! She’ll be thrilled that you mentioned her!

Mayor Grisham Least I can do.

Sammy Now, Mayor Grisham, you’re joining us today because in just a few short minutes we’re gonna be kicking off the 55th annual King Falls Bass Tournament—

Mayor Grisham Absolutely! It’s one of the perks of the job that makes it all worthwhile. I mean, who could turn down a beautiful morning on the lake, with all the people of King Falls?

Sammy So, do you ever partake in the tournament yourself?

Mayor Grisham *chuckles* I wouldn’t want to put the King Falls residents to shame! I’m quite an avid outdoorsman.

Sammy Well, it’s nice of you to give everybody a sporting chance.

Mayor Grisham Oh yeah.

Sammy Now, before we let you go- and believe me I hate to break down the mood —

Mayor Grisham Then don’t.

Sammy Oh, *chuckles nervously* well I-I was just gonna ask if you had heard any recent news regarding…

Mayor Grisham Sammy. Another time and another place.

Sammy Well, Mayor Grisham. [floundering] We here, we—

Mayor Grisham That’s all at this time. Thanks for having me. Have your people call Riley and we’ll schedule something soon, Sam.

Sammy [confused and irritated] Heh… Okaay?

Ben What is he- he- can’t- we’re supposed to be here for another three minutes, Sammy.

Sammy *unamused laugh* It’s fine, Ben, uh- it’s not your fault.

Ben Well, no. You ran him off, *scoffs* [growing frantic] buuut he was supposed to stay with us until we went live! with the opening ceremonies!

Sammy Hey, hey. It’s okay.

Ben [worked up] I’m going to fix this. Uh- I got it!

Sammy Ben-Be- Well. That was Ben just leaving in a full sprint, kids. Uh, seems it’s just you and me now, uh, and the mayor’s assistant, recording our every word.

Voice in distance Shotgun Sammy!

Sammy *groans* Okay, so we’re about four minutes away from the top of the hour, and the tournament getting started. Uh, we’d like to wish all the participants today the best of luck, break legs, uh, you know catch fish, wh-what have you. Uh, watch out for Kingsie, obviousl—

Ben I got it! I got it! I’m back!

Sammy Oh, Ben’s back ladies and gents! And he has a friend!

Ben Sammy, King Falls, this is Mr. Herschel Baumgartner. Winner of last year’s tournament! How you doing today, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel Good, Benny. Real good. Just ready to get my spot and giveitago this year. Uh, you know it’s about to start, right boys?

Sammy So, Herschel, you won the actual tournament last year, is that correct?

Herschel Oh, you bet I did! Won it back in ‘92, and ‘89 as well. But don’t go askin’ for tips now, son. Now if you excuse me—

Sammy Oh wow! So you are a three time winner of the King Falls Bass Tournament lookin’ for big number four this morning!

Herschel [sarcastic] Huh, Big City can count. We’re T-minus three minutes here, boys. If you don’t have anything pressing…

Ben Uh, for the listeners, Mr. Baumgartner, wha-what would you say is, is, is, the-the most important part—

Herschel [suspiciously] Who put you up to this? Was it Cecil? [grumbling] Amateur, usurpin’ so-and-so-

Ben No! We-we just needed to fill some time.*nervous laugh*

Herschel You’re going to pull me out of my boat to fill time? You are a DUMB son of a b[bleep]!

Sammy [warning] Hey now!

Herschel Don’t you dad-voice me, son. I’ll put a boot rrright up your ass, just like I did those Krauts[1] back in WWII! [said “dubya-dubya two”]

Sammy [harshly] You know what? Great talking to you Herschel.

Herschel [grumbling] New-fangled radio bums, looking for a hand-out. I ain’t givin’ ya no tips! No spots, no tricks o’ the trade! How I flick my wrist [fades out as he walks away]

[woman screams in bg]

Ben Was… that a scream?

Sammy [laughing dismissively] I’m sure it was just someone seeing Mr. Baumgartner’s lovely personality.

Ben I think something might be up, Sammy. Seriously.

Sammy Uh, ladies and gentlemen, as always, we thank you for tuning in with us here at King Falls AM. We’re about to go live with the opening ceremonies at the 55th annual-

[another, longer scream. Someone in the bg yells “There’s a body in the lake!” followed by sounds of an agitated crowd and a lot of people screaming]

Sammy Folks, stay with us! It seems that a body has just surfaced here at Lake Hatchenhaw! Come on, Ben!

Ben [incredulously] We’re going there?

Sammy Cronkite. Brokaw. Ben Arnold.

Ben *huffs* Right.

[Deputy Troy yells incomprehensibly through a megaphone.]

Ben-at-a-distance Tweet us!

[screaming continues]

Sammy Alright, we’re on the dock. [aside] if we could just push past— There’s the mayor! Right there!

Deputy Troy [through a megaphone] Everybody please stay calm!

Ben [quiet,worried] What if it’s Tim?

Sammy Mayor Grisham! Can you confirm that there is a body here—

Deputy Troy [still through the megaphone] Sorry boys. I don’t want to, but the Mayor’s going to cut—

[audio cuts to static]

[KFAM outtro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Kraut - a derogatory term for a German, especially a German soldier, during WWI and WWII

[vegetacide]

Coffee..

Veg note:  OK trying my hand at a one shot shorty...excuse any typos. They are completely mine as I have done very little editing and I wanted to challenge myself to see if I could actually manage a short and get it posted all in one night..  

Enjoy

o0o

Kirsten the barista hated the Sunday morning crowd.  It was full of emo wankers who either bitched about the web access being slow while milking their one and only cup of Americana,  stood on their chairs trying to get the ‘best’ picture of their mocha and biscotti for which they would spend way too much time applying filters and hashtag the hell out of it or sit at their tables and vlog about the latest fashion trends seen on whatever carpet had just been walked up.  All ostentatious bullshit that drove her nuts.  

The emos didn’t tip,  the food gurus bitched about their not being enough poppy seed to cookie ration and the fashionista wanna-be’s flicked their long, fake hair extensions all over the place.  Why she continued to work at this place was beyond her..  Though the hours were generally good and the owner only sometimes tried to peek down her top when she was wiping the tables clean.

Jessica was the only other good thing about the place.  She was her best friend for who knows how many years at this point and was her roomie to butt.  They shared a tiny, little walk up about 2 blocks over that was rent controlled…a rarity in this day and age and they loved the city of New York. 

Mixing stuck up coffees for all these fidiots was just a way for her to stay here and enjoy the crazy city. For a few hours each day, she came here, farted around with her bestie and snickered behind her hand at the crowd of the most irritating bunch of jack asses the work could spew out.  

Jessica gave her a hip check as she walked by pulled Kirsten from her musings and she turned around and swatted at her with her dish towel.  

“Are you even listening to me?”  Jessica rolled her eyes

“You lost me at ‘OMG, do you know what Craig did?’  after that I pretty much blanked out.”  Kirsten replied and a smirk on her ruby red lips,  flicking her long, dark braid over her shoulder. 

“Oh my god, you are such a bitch.” Jess shook her head.

“Oh you know you looooovvve me.”  Kirsten batted her eyelashes all dramatically.  “Besides, you know how I feel about that dick wad.” 

‘I know, I know but he has such a great…”  Jessica’s sentence trailed off.

“Has a what?  Great personality?” Receiving no reply, Kirsten turned to her friend. Coffee cup seaming in her hand as she passed it off to one of their regulars.  

Jessica whacked her arm a few times with the back of her hand. 

“OK,  I get it.  You like the guys ass but do you really have…”

Jessica yanked on her hair and caused Kirsten to yelp. “Ouch, Jessica.  What the fu…” as she spun around on the spot and all thoughts in her head ceased.  

The bell above the door chimed a merry jingle as the sexiest thing that ever graced the face of the planet stepped into the coffee house.  “Oh thank the powers that be…”  Kirsten whispered, fanning her face, “He’s back..”  

Warn, brown leather creaked across his broad shoulders as he lifted a thickly muscled arm and plucked the dark aviators from his face, revealing the warmest, richest mahogany eyes Kirsten had ever seen. 

Heat suffusing her cheeks as her eyes wandered from the top of his gorgeous midnight black hair, down his muscled limbs and unbelievably trim waist,  over low slung designer jeans that hugged thick, tight thighs to the tips of his scuffed combat boots and back up again.  

The shadow of a beard darkened the strong line of his jaw and the easy smile that curved up his perfect lips made her knees week.  This.. this right here was why she continued to work at this shitty place.  Screw everything else.. If she never lived to see another day after today she would die happy just by serving this dark haired Adonis a cup of crappy, overpriced coffee. 

As he strolled up to the counter,  tucking his glasses into the pocket of his plaid shirt he met her eyes and his smile widened.   Jessica sank her elbow into her side.  “I call dibs.” she whispers.  

Kirsten picked her jaw off the floor and pounced on her friend. “Hell no!  You got Craig.. This one is mine.” And shoved her friend out of the way, jumping behind the register so she could ring in his order.  She plastered her best ‘Please take me home with you’ smile on her face and puffed up her b-cups.  

“Welcome to the Steamed Bean. Can I take your order?”  Please let me have your children, she tacked on in her head.  Right here on the counter.  I don’t care,  the emos can watch. 

The voice that greeted her ears almost made her lose it right there at the counter.   The soft baritone of it sent shivers down her spine all the way to her toes and a heat lit up her insides.  “Hey,  um.. I’d like a venti chai latte and a venti cappuccino- heavy on the expresso, please.” 

“Right away. Can I offer you one of our signature biscotti?”  She pointed to the glass covered tray beside her.  “Best in New York”

An arched brow as he looked at the baked good nearly sent her to the floor.  Who had brows that epic?! Really, and that charming little scar didn’t detract from his appeal in the least. 

“Best in New York, huh? Well,I can’t very well pass that up can I?”  The smirk.. Oh god that smirk.  

Hold it together girl, you can do it, “Sex.. erm sorry I mean six or would you like a baker’s dozen?”  

Dark and incredibly handsome chuckled at the slip up,  a light red bloomed across his the top of his high cheeks but he didn't comment on it. “Let’s make it a dozen.. They look really good and I skipped breakfast.” 

“Sure, coming right up.”  Nearly tripping over her own feet she scampered about and bumped in her room mate.. Erm what was her name?  Right, Jessica, who handed her a take out container for the baked goods and got to grinding the beans for the expresso shots.  

“What name should I put on this?” She asked grabbing up the necessary paper insulated cups and breaking out a sharpie.  

The hotness shrugged,  “V is fine” and pulled his wallet from his pocket.  

Kirsten smiled wide and put the black permanent marker to use. Finishing up his order, she tucked his drinks into a tray and handy it to him.  

“What do I owe you”

“Oh,  it’s on the house.  Special of the day.”  She said, leaning over the counter

“Uh… thanks.”  Came a slightly confused response as he collected up everything.  “Appreciate that.”  

Turning, his back to the counter he weaved his way through the line up towards the door and Kirsten - like every other red blooded woman in the place, even the emo ones - watched as he went. That was a fine back side if ever she had seen one.  

She continued to watch as he pushed open the door and stepped outside, fanning herself as naughty thoughts that would be better left at home danced through her head.  Just as the line was starting to get crusty with the barista’s lack of attention,  Jessica came over to her.  

“So… “  She almost begged for details.  

“I think I lost my virginity all over again.” 

Jessica gawked at her.  

“Oh.. and I wrote my number on his cup..”

“Oh you sly fox.”  Her friend barked out a laugh.  Eyeing the next customer that was looking at their watch as if the thing could change the course of history and make the women behind the counter better employees.  “Shit,  I sure hope he comes back again.” Jessica sighed dreamily  

“Me too”  Kirsten sighed back and turned around to face the hordes.      

8-8-8

Virgil stepped out from the coffee shop and expertly made his way through the traffic to the Audi R8 parked at the curb.  Setting the cup tray on the roof and holding out the bag of sugary goodness to the love of his life, he leaned in for a kiss.  

Kay lips curved up in a secret smile as she took the bag from him and peeked inside.  “Mmm biscotti, my favourite.”  

“Weirdest thing happened..?”

“Oh?” She asked with a quirked brow.  

“”Barista gave me my order for free.. Said it was the special of the day.”  He pulled his cup from the tray and leaned back against the sports car beside her..  “How a place can stay open if they give everything away is beyond me.”  He pondered and took a sip of his hot beverage.  

Kay stared at him and blinked,  lips pursing a bit in displeasure as she watched him raise the hastily scrawled upon cup up for a sip. “Really? I wonder why oh why they would do that...?”  She knew damn well why, her own eyes going down his fine form and she blushed as she thought about why they had missed breakfast this morning.  

“No idea.. “

Leaning up again she placed a kiss on his cheek and rolled her eyes as she sneaked a hand into his pants pocket to snag the keys.

Virgil sucked in a breath as her questing fingers found things other then his keys. “Tanusha..” he growled, eyes darting around.  

Kayo laughed as she freed the keys and darted around the car.  “Come on, oh clueless wonder. We gotta get back before Scott’s head explodes.”  

Virgil just shook his head,  he would never understand the opposite sex. Grabbing up the coffee tray he slipped in the passenger seat beside her and off they went with a squeal of tires.  

Part 2

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 28

The pleasant notes of Tom singing ‘Friday I’m In Love’ as he showered were suddenly eclipsed by a loud, incessant buzzing. Covering my ears with my hands, I sat straight up in bed, swung both legs over the side, stood and walked to the bathroom in lieu of screaming my query.

Upon catching sight of Tom’s spectacular ass, I forgot about the noise until I shook my head in awe of its perky, dimpled beauty and inadvertently dislodged my hands in the process. Cringing, I knocked on the glass enclosure as I spoke.

“Babe? Do you…”

The shower door cracked open, his shaving-cream covered face emerging from the steam. “That horrendous sound you’re hearing is, technically, our doorbell.”

“Like, the building doorbell or the flat doorbell?”

“Flat. The building version is more of an obnoxious electronic chime, which I normally have set to mute. My family knows to call when they’re close so I can watch the video feed and buzz them in.”

I hadn’t noticed any cameras outside last night, nor any screen near the door on the inside of the flat. Tom grinned impishly as I raised my index finger and opened my mouth, cutting me off before I could voice my observation.

“All of it, the control console as well as the video monitor, is hidden behind a sliding panel inside the flats. Ours is to the left of the door, looking at it from the within. The external cameras are mounted in the flower boxes, and there are four buttons for visitors to press, numbered for each flat, located to the right of the main entrance. System speakers, unfortunately, are wired in with the smoke detector and intruder alarms, so the sound is…everywhere.”

Resting my hand on my hip, I frowned as his gaze roamed over my nakedness. “So…one of our neighbors is responsible for this calamity, is what you’re saying?”

He nodded, extending a hand out to me. “I am. And in order for the sound to continue as it has, it means said neighbor hasn’t removed his finger from the button for even an instant and will most likely not cease and desist until someone answers the door.”

I took his hand, moving closer as my fingers felt for the pulse of his wrist, sighing. “Fucking Simon. Next time I know he’s hung over I’m returning the favor.”

Tom chuckled. “How can you be certain it’s Simon and not Luke?”

“Holding in the button until you’re given the attention you believe you deserve…Simon, through and through. Luke’s more of a buzz once or twice, then repeatedly as he grows increasingly annoyed when no one answers kind of person. I guess I should throw on some clothes and go see what he wants before I lose my hearing, eh?”

Releasing my hand, Tom nodded, bits of shaving cream sliding down his jaw and landing on the floor. “If you want a dressing gown, mine are in the wardrobe closest to the window, all the way to the left.”

Pausing, I considered commenting on ‘dressing gown’, but determined that stopping the buzzing was a priority action item.  “Thanks. I’ll be back. Hopefully right back.”

I walked back into the bedroom, opened the wardrobe nearest the window and chose a fluffy navy blue robe, surprised that it actually wrapped around me fully. After tying it at the waist I peered down, shaking my head at how much of it dragged on the floor. “I am SO going to fucking kill myself in this thing.” Tom yelled out a ‘what?’ from the bathroom. I yelled back. “Nothing…just talking to myself. Again.”

Gathering the extra material in my left hand, I descended the steps with an abundance of caution, then quickened my pace as I crossed the living room and stepped up into the kitchen. Now that I knew the panel was there it was easy to spot, but I didn’t bother with it, opting to unlock and fling the door open instead. Simon stood before me, still pressing the call button, dressed in light blue skinny jeans, a pink polo with blue and white horizontal stripes and his white To Boot New York loafers, sans socks.

“Simon Ahlberg, if you don’t remove your finger from that button right now I’m going to tear it off and shove it…”

His grey eyes lit up, skin around them wrinkling slightly as he grinned from ear to ear. “Promises, promises, Maude.” Releasing the button with a sigh, he bent and picked up what appeared to be a picnic basket. “I prepared breakfast for my second favorite lovebirds. Sausage, egg, cheese and home fry burritos, sliced melon and strawberries with cream, and a container of orange juice. Oh, there’s some half and half in there for tea or coffee, too. Microwave each burrito for 25 seconds. Then get your ass to work, woman. It’s after ten and everyone is anxiously awaiting your debut.”

“Pressure I do not need, Simon. Christ. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had…co-workers? Hold me. I’m scared.” He laughed, and I reached out to take the basket from him. “So…dress code? Is what you’re wearing acceptable or do you just get away with it because you’re fucking the boss?”

One hand flew to his hip as it jutted out to the side, lips pouting at me, a finger wagging in my face. “Maude, you are SO RUDE.” We both tittered briefly, then he nodded. “Yes, it’s acceptable. We’re very casual. Luke’s opinion is that Prosper should focus more on the interpersonal relationships we form with clients than on maintaining a stuffy, uber professional atmosphere. When they turn up for an appointment, he wants them to feel free to do so in jogging pants if that’s how they’re most comfortable, since most spend a good part of their lives stuffed in what everyone else requires them to wear.”

I raised my hand in the air for a high five, which Simon reciprocated, then embraced me as best he could around the basket. Slipping one arm around him, I spoke near his ear. “Thanks for breakfast. And for your advice back on Kauai. Which I fully intended to follow but was derailed by Death. And for being so supportive during the last week in spite of the fact that I was an utter shit and didn’t call you as often as I should have.”

He squeezed me tighter, then pulled back, hands on my upper arms as he met my gaze. “You’re welcome. And forgiven.  I’m glad things worked out. Nothing is ever perfect, and it all requires more work than you could fucking imagine, and a level of honesty that’s the very definition of brutality, but…it’s SO worth it, and you and Tom…you’re just…meant to be.” He smirked. “And the fact that the man has a cock that’s garnered its own hashtag can’t hurt…”

My left eyebrow shot up and I raised my index finger. “Actually, it hurts a little when…”

“No no no. I have to go back to work now. And watch some cat videos to erase the image you’ve just put in my head, you evil bitch.”

I laughed as he spun around and headed for the staircase, closed the door, then placed my newfound bounty on the kitchen counter and rifled through it, snagging the fruit and cream first before searching the cabinets for a plate. There were some up above the sink, white with two orange concentric circular stripes, a thin outer and thicker inner. The drawer next to the stove housed the silverware, plain stainless with sturdy handles that squared off at the ends. Using a tablespoon, I plopped a large dollop of cream on the plate first, then forked out some melon pieces and six strawberries, arranging them artfully inside the inner ring and impressing myself inordinately.

“Wow, send me off to compete on Chopped. Mad plating skills, Maude. MAD.”

After glancing back and forth from the dining table to the plate several times, I came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be very mannerly of me to sit and eat without Tom. Sighing, I trucked up the stairs and into the master bedroom to find Tom standing naked in front of the open middle wardrobe. He turned to me, eyeing the dish in my hand.

“Glory hallelujah, is that FOOD?”

I dipped a strawberry in the cream and took a giant bite, nodding as I chewed. “Mmm hmm. Simon made us breakfast. Burritos are downstairs…”

Tom abandoned his clothing dilemma, strode over to me and grabbed a berry of his own, dipped it in the cream, then popped the entire thing in his mouth. “MMMMM.” Using his index finger, he helped himself to another swipe of cream, first licking it off, then sucking on the digit while smirking at me.

“Think you’re funny, do you, Hiddleston?” He nodded and reached for the plate again, frowning emphatically as I pulled it away from him. “No way. I’ve revoked your sharing privileges as a result of your inappropriate behavior. Go get your own, asshat.”

Shrugging, he walked around me and made for the door, then turned to me, grinning. “Oh. Right. I suppose I should put some clothes on.”

I lowered my chin to my chest, head shaking back and forth slowly. “Ya THINK?!”

****************************************

We sat across from each other as we ate, marveling at Simon’s ability to turn such simple ingredients into something that made us moan like whores. Which is an expression I could never really work out logistically…are only whores supposed to moan? Was I a whore because I moaned? Or was it a reference to faux moans ladies of the evening used to boost client ego and garner a larger sum at the end of the deed? I was about to ask Tom if he had any inkling as to the expression’s origin when his phone alarm went off.

“Shit, is it eleven already?” He checked the screen quickly. “Indeed it is. Sorry, love. I’ve got to get going. Will you be all right showering and such?”

He’d made an appointment with his therapist for eleven-thirty this morning as soon as we’d decided to fly in Sunday night. As I nodded our eyes met, and his betrayed his calm exterior. I rose and walked around the table to hug him tightly, the soft cotton weave of his green Henley pressed against my cheek.

“Don’t worry about me, Tom. I’ll be fine. And you’ll be fine. If you need anything, call, okay?”

He kissed my forehead. “Thanks. I will. Shall I stop at the market on the way home and pick up what we need for dinner?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll text you what I need after you leave, cool?”

“Cool. Will you see me to the door?”

“Try and stop me.”

He smiled as we released each other, and I took a moment to drink him in. Tight jeans below the Henley, hiking boots that were new to me on his feet, the outline of the phone through his pocket somehow strangely erotic. We walked to the door hand in hand, and after opening it he bent to kiss me, gently at first, then more forcefully as I grabbed the back of his neck. A string of saliva connected us for another second when he pulled away, and I chuckled.

“That should be SO gross, shouldn’t it? But it’s so NOT gross. Love truly is a many splendored thing.”

Laughing, he rested his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry I have to leave you on your first day. You’re going to do wonderfully well down below, Maude. Though I already regret not being able to see your face when you get a look at everything…”

My eyes widened. “Um…should I be excited or lock myself in the bathroom and refuse to go?”

He rubbed his nose against mine. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

I shoved him out the door. “That’s it, Hiddleston. Out. Go. Away with you.”

“See you soon, my love.”

“Not soon enough. I love you, Tom.”

“And I love you, my Maude.”

As he walked down the hall I began to close the door, shouting after him through the shrinking opening. “Just so you know, I’m saving the rest of the cream for LA-TER.”

He froze, let his chin fall to his chest as he shook his head, then raised a hand in my direction before continuing to the stairs. The door clicked shut, and I was alone.

“Okay, woman, show on the road time. First, clean.” I scraped the plates and placed them in the dishwasher, emptied our glasses and mugs and put them in as well, then put the remainder of the orange juice, half and half and cream in the fridge. There was a single burrito left, and though it was screaming my name I put it in there as well. “Lunch. Save it for lunch.”

Once the dish cycle started, I moved the picnic basket to the counter nearest the door so I’d remember to return it. Then, it was shower time. I sat on the bed upstairs, Tom’s robe in a heap on the floor, wondering what my ankle looked like, and if I could possibly shower without the boot this go-round.

“Probably better to take it off in the bathroom.” I looked around at the comfy bed linens, wishing I could have a little nap before I went downstairs, and reality chose that moment to bitch-slap me, along with dropping a side of crippling self-doubt into my lap for shits and giggles. I was in London, and this was home now. My mother was dead and buried. My ex-husband was sitting in a jail cell in New Orleans. The details of my past had made their way around the globe and back again, all out there in the wild for anyone to find. I’d abandoned a business that had taken years of my life to make a success. I’d fallen madly, completely in love with Tom, sharing with him every single piece of me, all in the space of twenty-two days…and he was now meeting with a therapist who would most likely wind up telling him that he’d rushed into this entirely too quickly for his own mental health and that he should pull way, way back immediately. Plus, HIS MOTHER. The panic began creeping in, heart pounding, my breath coming in rapid bursts.  

Bending at the waist, I hung my head down between my knees in an attempt to calm the fuck down, inhaling and exhaling to a count of ten each time. After twenty breaths, I sat back up.

“Maude. Questioning is normal. Feeling out of place is normal. One thing at a time, address it. Be rational.”

A few more breaths, then I began.

“Mother is dead. Even though you hated her and she was a terrible person, she did give birth to you and now she’s not here anymore. Which is, you know, GOOD. But also disturbing and sad, because it’s so…final. How could you not be conflicted? Ex-husband…if anyone wants to judge you based on the current behavior of someone you were involved with seventeen years ago, they’re an asshole and not worth your time. Heh. He’s in jail. That will never not be funny. In a very sick and twisted way, sure…but still funny.”

I stood and started pacing, annoyed at my jiggling flesh.

“Moving on. Let’s remember you’re the one who blabbed everything to the media. You answered their questions because you know that’s what SHOULD be done. Goose, gander. Client, you. And don’t forget about the outpouring of support. Amazing, compassionate people. Right.”

My pacing area grew wider, along the walls of the room.

“Business. You were bored. And miserable. You have enough money to live for a LOT of years even if you had NO job. Most people don’t. Nor do they have new opportunities handed to them out of the blue. Be grateful. London is a beautiful, vibrant city and, let’s face it, home is where you make it. Work is here. Having a boss will be weird. But it will be GOOD to not be responsible for EVERYTHING for a change. You’ll have time to live your LIFE. With TOM.”

I froze in place, breaking out into a cold sweat. “Will there BE a life with Tom after this fucking therapy appointment? Can I handle it if he decides we need to slow this down and back away from each other significantly so he can fully heal? The cause of his pain is fresher, raw, no longer in the passenger seat but still in the car, not way back on the highway, barely visible in the rearview mirror like yours. Maybe a relationship isn’t the best thing for him right now…oh, fuck ME.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, hands balled into fists, I fought the rising tide of overwhelming anxiety within me and tried to search for what was really causing the questioning, the doubt, the fear…and suddenly, the last thing on my list crossed my mind. His mother.

There it was, the one side of the phone conversation I’d heard in New Orleans. His mother, everything she’d been saying to him, based on his replies…all inexorably interwoven with what I’d been freaking out over. She didn’t approve of my being married before, thought Tom was being terribly foolish for jumping headlong into another serious relationship with someone he’d just met, and firmly believed that I had ulterior motives for being with him. Like money. Or fame. And if she’d seen footage from the day of the funeral, be it the press interviews or the kiss or all of it…how much lower had my stock gone down? Totally negative territory. Totally.

Opening my eyes, I resumed pacing, reducing my range to one side of the bed.

“Why do you CARE Maude? You never give a fuck what anyone thinks of you. Why does her opinion matter to you?”

I sat back down on the bed, climbed atop it and lay back. Our mingled scents soothed me, slowed my racing heart and mind.

“It matters because SHE matters. To HIM. Because she’s the woman who’s been a constant in his life. Because he respects her. Because he loves her. And I’m terrified of what will transpire if she isn’t able to respect ME. Like Tom not respecting me, either. And leaving me because he decides she’s right, about all of it.”

In large part, I was sure, my fear sprang from the well of inadequacy my mother had dug for me…long story short, if my OWN mother thought I was a worthless piece of shit, why would I expect someone else’s to feel differently? But Diana…I paused, realizing I hadn’t even dared to think her name before to the best of my recollection, she’d just been HIS MOTHER, all caps…wasn’t my mother. Not all mothers were horrible, were they? Anne didn’t fit into that mold. And since I’d yet to meet Diana, I couldn’t be certain as to whether or not she did. Either way, Tom had made it abundantly clear that she should trust his judgement and take the time to know me before coming down on a particular side of the fence. His confidence that she’d be able to make sense of it all and, perhaps, actually like me…I needed to have confidence in that as well.

Sighing heavily, I sat up again. “Maude, you are SO fucked up. But yay for figuring it out, right? She’s just a PERSON. Stop making her out to be some sort of deity that controls Tom’s life choices. Even if she hates you, he’ll still love you. Probably.” I snorted, then walked to the suitcases Tom had brought upstairs prior to taking his shower. After rooting through two of them, I found a cotton tunic, the body bright purple with lime green stitched seams, the cowl neck possessing a green base with a gradient to purple. All the pants I’d brought other than the ones I’d worn yesterday wouldn’t fit over the boot, so even if I couldn’t manage to shower without it I’d still have to take it off to get dressed. I chose another pair of men’s jeans that were more of a proper size, black cotton underwear and a black T-shirt material bra. The shoe debate hadn’t quite been resolved, so I held off on finding my socks for the moment.

All my toiletries were in my carryon, so I slung it over my shoulder, cradled the clothing in my arm and walked to the bathroom. Shampoo was placed in the shower, as well as my soap, and I made quick work of brushing my teeth as I double checked on the towel situation. Still one for me to use. Perfect. Giggling as I thought of the Seinfeld episode about Good Naked and Bad Naked, I pressed my boobs to my chest with my free hand and forearm so they wouldn’t hang in the sink when I spit.

“Okay. Here we go. Off with the boot.”

I sat on the toilet and undid the buckles, one at a time, and was puzzled at the lack of extreme pain. Once it was fully open, I closed my eyes and began to pull upward with my leg, foot sliding out of the boot slowly. There was pain, but it wasn’t FUCK ME FUCK THIS FUCK EVERYTHING pain. More like a bee sting. A really bad bee sting. Fine, MANY bee stings. But it was markedly better.

First one eye opened, then the other as I leaned forward to inspect my ankle. The swelling was nearly gone, and the bruises were much less angry. I lowered my foot to the floor tentatively, placing it flat on the floor first, then raising my heel a bit as I pushed up with my toes.

“SHI-HIT. Okay, no bending. Stick with flat.”

I stood, full weight on my left leg initially, then added a bit at a time to the right until I was pretty much standing on my own two feet. If I turned my right knee and foot outward and drag-stepped, I could walk, after a fashion. It hurt, but bearably so, and it felt spectacular to take a shower without a fucking garbage bag. The noise the spray had made when it hit it made me want to scream every single time…this, THIS was blissfully silent, except for my muffled scream when I forgot I was still injured and rotated the ankle in error.

I toweled off, put on my bra and shirt, then sat on the toilet to slip my underwear and jeans onto my legs. Putting the boot back on was far less pleasant than taking it off, mainly the shoving my heel down and into place part, but the sharp stabbing pain had faded to a dull throb by the time I was buckled back in. As I pulled my pant leg over the boot I decided today was a day for super-shiny gunmetal grey metallic Doc Martens. Or Doc Marten, as the case may be. I stood, yanked up my panties and jeans, buttoned and zipped, then walked to the mirror to check out my hair.

“Lord, woman. That’s just…wow.” It was still wet, even after my vigorous towel drying, and super frizzy. “Dare I brush you, mane of mine? Or should I just cut my losses and tame you with my elastic lasso?” I opted for the latter, breaking two hair ties before one managed to withstand the outward pressure of floof and kept it where I wanted it to be. No makeup, but I did dig out my black tourmaline necklace and bracelet, smiling softly as I considered how special both pieces were, but for very different reasons.

After one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my keys from the nightstand, my bag from the floor and walked downstairs. I’d just pulled the door shut behind me when I remembered that I needed to text Tom my ingredient list for dessert. Plopping down on the nearest bench, I fished my phone from my bag and turned it on. It was quarter to twelve.

“Wow, I am VERY late for work. Maybe if I sit here long enough Simon will bring me lunch, too.”

There was a message from Anne, which I ignored for the moment, and a text from Tom, sent six minutes ago.

Hey you. I’m in the waiting area here, office is running behind. Hope the shower went off without a hitch. Text me when you can. Love you. – T

Waiting to do something pleasant was irritating enough, waiting to do something unpleasant totally sucked. I knew what he’d be revealing to his therapist today, and, truthfully, unpleasant didn’t even come close to doing it justice.

Hello, my beautiful man. I’m so sorry they’re behind. Shower was A-OK. Ankle is healing. Soon we’ll be out and about dancing like fools. Just got done, heading downstairs now. Love you too.  - M

Here’s what I need from the store: 4 sticks unsalted butter, flour, salt, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, 12 ounces of semisweet chocolate, white chocolate - a bar is better but if all you can find are chips that will do, and toffee. Thanks. XOXO - M

I waited a bit to see if he’d reply, and was glad when he didn’t because it meant he wasn’t waiting any longer. The phone went back in the bag, left on just in case he had need of me. Walking to the far left steps, past Luke and Simon’s flat, I dawdled as much as I could during my descent. The door was wide open, faint strains of electronic dance music drifting out into the lobby. As I walked through it, my jaw dropped. The view was straight down a hallway, narrow at first, then opening wider and into a large room, awash in natural light, a huge sign on the wall, black background with white lettering that simply stated ‘prosper’ with an elongated triangle symbol above it. No wonder why he hadn’t wanted to budge on the website logo. The sides of the hallway were all white, steel and glass, what I assumed to be modular rooms, two thirds the height of the actual space and open to the ceiling, where gunmetal colored beams and ductwork hung out in the open.  

The door opened inward, blocking the view to my immediate left, so I cast my gaze right into what appeared to be the waiting area. Its walls were solid, though there were only three, two sides and a rear, all modular like the rest, sides painted a cream color and the back a dove grey that matched the carpeting. Two simple, cream colored sofas were centered on each side wall, both of them with an angled, high wooden extension jutting up from behind the back section. A beige flokati rug was centered in the middle of the space, with a very light blonde wooden coffee table atop it, as well as a mobile laptop station of the same wood, designed to move around the entire rectangle and settle wherever the  user chose. Against the back wall was a low entertainment center console of the same light blonde wood, housing a rounded forty inch projection screen that displayed the same image that was on the laptop…fractal art in constant motion. Closest to me were two chairs, closely resembling a slot from an egg carton tipped thirty degrees backward. They were a very light, creamy pinkish-orange with desk chair sort of bottom, minus the wheels. A round-topped tiny end table in light blonde wood rested directly between them, and my body gravitated towards them, demanding to know how they’d feel to sit in. Heels clicking drew my attention away, and I stepped forward and turned left toward the direction of the sound. A lovely young woman with a modified pixie cut, hair longer in the front, shades of red, blonde and bronze almost obscuring her left eye, was striding towards me. Her makeup was very dark, rust colored and grey shadow, thick black liner above and below each eye, lips a matte pale rose pink. She was wearing dark purple skinny jeans, shiny black patent Mary Janes and an ancient, holey Nirvana T-shirt with the neck cut away. It hung off her left shoulder, exposing the white tank top underneath. She held out her hand as she drew closer, huge smile on her face. I reached out, accepting and shaking it, noting the incredibly cool silver ring in the shape of a snake eating its own tail on her right thumb.

“Hello, Maude! I’m Lyssa, Lyssa Barnes. Receptionist, Customer Service, Client Relations, and doer of all the other things no one else will go near with a ten foot pole. So lovely to meet you!” She released my hand and turned back to where she’d come from, a reception area with a wooden courtesy desk that matched the furniture in the waiting area, as did the shelves and cabinets behind it. The countertop was the same shade of orange as the chairs, and as I followed her I spotted a mini-fridge, a wine fridge, a hot plate, Keurig and Espresso machines, and a small sink. “I’ll buzz Luke and let him know you’re here…he’s in with Emma Watson at the moment, but they’re probably near done. Would you like a cuppa while you wait? Earl Grey is your jam, if I’m not mistaken. Oh.” She opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a bag of Lindor Truffles, grinning. “And maybe a handful of these to go with?”

A smirk spread across my lips, head bobbing in affirmation. “Wow, you’re GOOD.”

Her grin widened as she curtsied. “I try, I try. Huge part of what I do, knowing who likes what and how, even if they never, ever tell me so. Makes us stand out from the rest…we want turning up here to be like visiting an old friend.”

I leaned forward, peeking over the desktop. “So, what’s your secret to remembering it all? Giant Excel file? Hidden notebook?”

She laughed and tapped her temple. “Most of it’s up here, but I do have an Excel file just in case I drop off or something. Which I’m relying on more and more each day, what with the influx of new folks and all. I need more storage.”

“You and me both. I’ll pass on the tea, but I’ll happily take that bag of deliciousness off your hands, thanks.”

She handed it to me, then sat in her office chair, also the same color as the ones in the waiting area. “There you are. Make yourself at home. If you want to watch something on the screen, just let me know.”

I settled into one of the chairs I’d been admiring, which turned out to be one of the most comfortable things I’d ever nestled my ass into. Seven truffles later, I heard Luke’s voice and a woman’s laughter and stood up quickly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand just in case any chocolate was lurking about. A few moments later they came into view, and it was all I could to do not scream ‘Oh my god it’s Hermione!’ at poor Emma, who probably would prefer to not hear those words again, ever. Before I could say a blessed thing her arms were around me, then her lips kissing each check in turn.

“Maude, oh my goodness, I’ve heard so much about you and read so much about you and you and Tom in that Tumblr video…so absolutely adorable! SO wonderful to actually meet you! Tom’s just…he’s…well, YOU know what I mean and I’m so happy for him and for you and I have literally twenty questions I can’t wait to ask you about social media strategies for me and HeForShe. Speaking of which, we’re planning a benefit talent show for January and if you’re interesting in singing I’d LOVE to have you because you have such an amazing voice…” She turned to Luke and shook her head, then shifted her gaze back to me. “You know, he was just telling me that I need to cut back on the coffee or something because I never, ever shut up and here I am, not shutting up and you can’t even get a word in edgewise. I’m so, so sorry.”

Holding up one hand, I shook my head as well. “No worries, Emma. Happy to meet you too. And, I find your enthusiasm rather contagious.”

Luke snorted. “Much like the norovirus.”

Emma smacked his shoulder. “Shut UP.” She grabbed my upper arm gently. “I’m afraid I have to dash, but please do let me know about the benefit, and once Tom’s done hoarding all your talent we can get together, if you don’t mind, to go over social stuff. Talk to you soon!” She waved at Lyssa as she hurried out the door.

I grabbed another truffle from the bag and popped it into my mouth, then pointed at Luke. “You’re going to need to buy stock in these, man. It’s become glaringly apparent that I’ll be needing lots and LOTS of sugar in order to keep up with this crowd.”

“Seminar crowds a bit tamer, eh?”

“Hell yes. And now I know why…I’ve dealt with either them, or one client at a time. You, you’re dealing with SO MANY. They were vastly lower key because they were EXHAUSTED.”

Luke laughed and held out his arm for me to take. “Ready for your guided tour?”

Nodding, I accepted and we began walking down the hall. “I am, good sir. And I have to say, I’m beyond impressed just from seeing the waiting area and reception. Did you design all this? And of course my next question is how much did it COST? Because I’m nosy. And concerned for the company’s financial wellbeing. Even though it’s technically none of my business.”

Pausing, he turned to me, eyes alight in a way I’d only so far seen when he was speaking about Simon. “I did do most of the design, actually. I wanted it to be the polar opposite of where I’d worked before, and most other PR firms I’d encountered…old school, dark wood, boxed in offices, everything happening behind closed doors, antiquated technology, suits and ties, dresses and heels. Prosper’s modern. Transparent. State of the art. Comfortable.”

Smiling, I grasped his forearm, the softness of his dark grey sweater making me wish for a blanket of the same material, as well as a big chair, a good book and a fireplace. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh?”

He started off into the distance for a moment, then nodded. “I’m not sure who was more surprised at my propensity for interior design, honestly…my mother, or…ME. I’ve always enjoyed the company of artists, which is how and why I’m here right now, but didn’t think I had any sort of artistic ability other than dressing myself well. Maybe it was going out on my own, the fact that this would be mine, giving me a certain inexplicable vison…I don’t know. I DO know that I can’t wait for you to see the rest, though. And as far as our financial wellbeing…if you want to make that your business, I’m all for it, Maude. Actually, I’d be eternally grateful for any input you’re willing to give. You’ve got vastly more experience with that aspect of running things, and while I have Gavin, our accountant, I’m still doing all the budgetary planning and a bevy of other things I’m just learning about. We’re still so new that it’s quite confusing. Off the top of my head, I can say we don’t have much debt from startup. We own the flat outright, and paid for most of the remodeling out of pocket. Mum managed to get us some wicked discounts from former associates, so when all was said and done the flat and everything it contains came in at just under six hundred thousand pounds. We borrowed around two fifty to finish up and pay our expenses while things grow.”

His eyes met mine again, pointedly. “Just so you’re aware, because you’ll never hear it from him as he refuses to discuss it, Simon is much more than my personal assistant.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively and Luke sighed. “It’s no wonder that he likes you so much. Lord help me, now there are TWO of you. Anyway. He’s really a silent partner…I could never have pulled this off without his capital investment. Not on this scale, at least. But he prefers to pretend to be just an employee, and I’d argue, but…exercise in futility. Which you might have guessed.”

I let go of Luke’s forearm, though he still held onto me. “Damn, he wasn’t joking about not having any time to spend his money, was he?”

Luke shook his head. “No, and fortunately I never had time to spend what I earned, nor the inheritance I received when my grandmother passed back in 2008. All right. On with it, eh?”

I nodded. “Yes, please. I’m near bursting with curiosity.”

He pointed to our left from my right side. “That’s the restroom, and the next door is the stairs. Which you may have guessed from the signage.” I chuckled as he pointed right to a blonde wood desk arrangement behind the glass. “That’s my office there…the entrance is down a bit.”

We stepped into the wider portion of the hallway, walked down a few feet, and he let go of my arm, stepped in front of me and opened a sliding glass door to my left.

“And this is YOUR office. It’s essentially identical to mine, other than the fact that I have additional space to accommodate a seating area.”

My brows knit together, head tilting as I stared at him. “Um, I have…an OFFICE?”

Luke grinned, his glasses rising up his nose as his ears rose. “People who have the word ‘director’, ‘officer’ or ‘assistant’ in their titles receive dedicated office space.” I glanced back and forth, then into the huge room in front of us, and he laughed. “That is NOT Simon’s office. Though he certainly campaigned for it heartily. He’s downstairs in his own little glass house so he can keep an eye on the staff. Which he seems to enjoy a great deal more than I would have expected. Perhaps, in fact, he enjoys it too much.”

“I, for one, am not surprised in the least. He’s so…bossy.”

We both giggled, and Luke stepped toward his own office. “Why don’t you take a look around while I ask Lyssa to order some pizzas from Il Baretto? We’ll all eat downstairs and you can meet everyone then. Margherita okay with you?”

Smirking, I nodded. “Yes. That’s mozzarella and tomato sauce. Otherwise known as…pizza. So I’m good. Thanks.”

He entered his office and walked in the opposite direction to his desk, and I stepped into mine. The carpet was the same dove grey as the waiting area, and the blonde desk grouping was centered directly across from the sliding door. All of the wall facing out to the hallway was glass, the other three sides white. The desk itself was off to the left, a half square shape, one piece jutting out five feet or so, perpendicular to the door, with the other half underneath the main portion of the arrangement. It was a large piece of furniture, approximately eight feet across, six feet high, and two feet deep. There were two end caps a foot wide with display shelving for books and such, two large open shelves, each two and a half feet long, right above the two foot high open corkboard space earmarked for the interior desk portion. To the right of the desk was a tall cabinet with two file drawers beneath, and directly next to them under the interior desk was another, with one small drawer and an open cubby above it. The chair was white, with grey and black accents and a silver wheeled base. Against the wall to the far left, in front of the outer desk, were two chairs that matched the design of the orange ones in the waiting area but were upholstered in white instead. To the far right was a kiosk, approximately six feet high, comprised of tubular stainless steel frame and base, white opaque privacy back, blonde wooden shelf with a video monitor and camera situated directly above it. In the middle of the shelf was a stainless steel cover, which I couldn’t help but open to see how they’d fit all the electronic components inside the small stainless bay hidden below. Luke’s voice startled me, and I damn near jumped out of my skin, slamming the little door shut with a clink.

“Knew you’d go right for that bit. It’s a media:scape kiosk, designed for videoconferencing and screen sharing. High definition, of course. And wireless, as long as you use this thing called a virtual PUCK, which is actually an app that allows you to broadcast any sort of content from your laptop or tablet to any media:scape display in the building.”

Turning to him, my jaw half open, I broke into a slow clap. “Luke Windsor, congratulations. You have out-teched me and are now officially my fucking HERO.” He grinned widely. “I didn’t even know this EXISTED. I mean, the laptop to screen, that’s been a thing forever, but this design, in an office setting wherein you’re constantly either away or dealing with clients who aren’t nearby in a geographical sense…fucking BRILLIANT. I’ll stop saying fuck now. It’s terribly unprofessional. And now I get why there’s no computer. You all use portable devices. How’s the budget look in regard to a new laptop for Miss Maude?”

Laughing, he waved me out into the hallway. “I think we can squeeze it in. And an iPad as well, if you’d like. The media:scape platform debuted in 2012, I believe, but the PUCK aspect is relatively new and not available in the United States, so I wouldn’t have expected you to encounter it. And it is brilliant…tomorrow I’ll set up a demo conference so you can see it in action. So much of what we do is virtual that it necessitates having this type of equipment, and keeping it current. Nothing makes you look more like a complete amateur than not being able to get your device to screen share, or having Skype freeze in the middle of a meeting with a brand new client.”

I grinned as we walked through the entrance of the large, open room, the glass doors already slid into place. “Ah, but that creates an opportunity to sweep in and save the day if you fix it quickly, and illustrate your exceptional problem solving skills, Luke. Yes to an iPad, by the way. Clean slate, just for Prosper stuff. Thanks.”

He raised both arms up, shoulder height and fully extended, as he stepped in front of me. “Welcome to the conference room.”

It ran the entire width of the flat, the original brick on the back wall, the modular walls white except for the windowed entrance area that bordered the hallway, carpet a dark grey. The two original building windows were identical to the ones in Tom’s…our flat. To my left was a lounge area with a sixty inch, wall mounted screen on the entrance side and opposite an L-shaped grouping of sofas identical to the ones in the waiting area, these upholstered in grey several shades lighter than the carpet. A blonde wood circular coffee table rested atop another flotaki rug, three foot in diameter with a round hole in the middle approximately a single foot in diameter. Two blonde rectangular end tables had been placed on either end of the grouping, two feet high, the centers carved out to create storage space under the surface, also rectangular. Directly between the windows, under the Prosper sign, was a blonde wood console table, suitable for buffets, floral arrangements and so forth. To my right was the conference table, a rectangular slab same wood as the rest, two planks serving as leg. Behind it, up against the wall, was a smaller wooden console that contained four under cabinets and cubby holes. The two-piece design chairs sported white trim around the edges of the grey mesh back and fabric seat, same shade as the sofas, with stainless bases. On the far right side wall, above the table space, was another media:scape display on a stainless frame, a whiteboard area on either side and small blonde wood shelves beneath.

As Luke pulled out one of the chairs for me to sit down, my phone chirped. I reached in to grab it as I lowered myself onto the seat, meeting his gaze. “Mind if I check this?”

He smiled as he set his own phone on the table top. “Not at all.”

Session bathroom break. If you’re in the middle of something, ignore this. Miss you, and can’t wait to taste those brownies. – T

Wow, so much for surprising you. :P Things going okay? – M

As well as could be expected, I’d say. He cleared the next appointment in case we go over the hour. How’s work? – T

The office ticks off all of my OCD design requirements and nerdgasm boxes so far. We’re waiting for pizzas to arrive and then it’s meet the rest of the staff time. If you need me, for anything, I’ll be right here, okay? –M

It’s a completely different experience, talking to him about…everything…and knowing I have you to come home to after it’s all over. It’s how I’m getting through it. I love you. – T

I bit my lip, attempting to keep myself from tearing up too badly.

Well, every reply I’ve typed sounded wrong and dumb so I’m just going to go with I love you too. – M

And, I’m considering baking naked. – M

Three minutes elapsed before he replied.

Woman, you slay me. In such incredibly delightful ways. Thank you. – T

You totally just jerked off in the bathroom, didn’t you? – M

I’ll never tell. – T

All right, fine. Yes. Yes I did. The entire time I was imagining licking brownie batter off your nipples, then lifting you up on to the counter and burying my face in that delectable pussy until the stove timer went off. – T

Lyssa poked her head in the door and announced that lunch had arrived as I tried to control the flush that was beginning to creep upward from my chest.

Why did I ask? WHY? Lunch is here and now I have to go meet these people and the entire time I’ll be thinking about your tongue. And your cock. – M

Eheheheh. Well, now that my work here is done I’d best head back…enjoy lunch, I’ll text you when I’m finished. With the session. The counseling session.  XOXO – T

STAHP. Maybe they’ll just think I’m so old I’m having a hot flash. Which is preferable, frankly. Talk to you soon.  XOXO – M

I followed Luke back to the stairwell door, then held it open for him and Lyssa, their hands full with three pizza boxes each. Simon was holding the bottom door for us, and when he saw me he began to chortle.

“Maude. Your shirt.”

I looked down, Lyssa and Luke turning right as they crossed the doorjamb. “What about my shirt?”

Simon took my arm as I stepped onto the blonde wood floor, turned us right and pointed forward. “YOU MATCH THE DÉCOR.”

In front of me was a white conference table, U-shaped, with a double media:scape display at the flat point. The chairs were white and grey trimmed, a gradient working from light to dark beginning at the bottom of the back, the cushions the same shade of green as the stitching and cowl of my top. To the left, up against the brick wall, was a long white set of cabinets with a countertop of glossy green composite material, again, the same shade as portions of my shirt. At the right end was a stainless steel fridge, and on the counter itself I noted a sink, hot plate, microwave and Keurig as Luke and Lyssa set the pizzas atop it. The far side of the room was a lounge area, four small, funky green sofas arranged in an L-shape, squared off sides and angled backs, resting atop a rug that matched the purple of my top perfectly. Accent pillows in the same purple were here and there, and each sofa had a small dining/work table in front of it, white legs with wide flat squares beneath them and a blonde wooden top. Against the brick wall was a small entertainment center, more blonde wood, with a forty inch screen above it.

Suppressing the urge to swear, I pinched Simon’s upper arm instead. “I DO MATCH THE DÉCOR. Lord help me.”

“Ouch, that bloody HURT.” He whispered in my ear. “I say bloody instead of fuck here. I abhor it. I let one slip now and then in hopes that they’ll hear it a few times and then be able to ignore it so I can go about using it freely. Though I don’t think anyone cares, but I’m…”

I whispered back. “Trying to be professional. I managed it for years, but since I got to know you and Luke outside of work before coming here, it’s not as cut and dried…well, actually, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe it’s really just that everything you do makes me want to spew forth endless streams of profanity.”

Another whisper, long and drawn out. “Fuuuuuuucccccckkkk YOUUUUUUU.”

We walked forward, but our progress was hampered by a small herd entering the space in front of us, then turning to stare at me. Luke walked over to stand by Simon’s side, then turned so he could see both us and the staff.

“Everyone, meet Maude Gallagher, our Social Media Director.” A chorus of hello, hi and how do you do greeted me, along with waves from all five of them.

“Maude, this is…everyone. I’ll start at your left and work my way right.” He pointed to a fellow of around twenty-five, five foot eight or so with long dark hair, almond-shaped deep brown eyes, dressed in skinny jeans and a blue Captain America T-shirt, navy blue tennis shoes on his feet. “Weng Middlesmith, full time PR Specialist. He came with me from the place that shall not be named.” He smiled and waved once again.

Next was a gorgeous curvy girl, same age as Weng, around five foot two, long artfully streaked blonde and brown hair, light brown eyes, dressed in black yoga pants, a long sleeved black stretchy top and pink ballerina flats that matched her lipstick. “Bridget Albansse, also full time PR Specialist, also came with me.” She nodded and reached out to shake my hand.

“These two are my part time PR Specialists, though over the next few weeks that’s going to change. Mainly thanks to you. Agnes Darby, Matthias Ellsworth.” Both of them were in their twenties as well, if I had to guess. Agnes was adorable, a few inches taller than me with curly dark red hair, green eyes, and light olive skin with a smattering of freckles, clad in a pair of jeggings, a white boat neck sweater and classic white Keds. She grinned and curtsied, and I knew we were going to get on just fine. Matthias was as tall as Tom, thin as a rail with skin the color of Café au lait, a Roman nose, dark brown eyes, beautifully full lips, a strong jaw and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. His hair was black, kinky-curly and styled in a very modified afro, strong eyebrows giving him a steadfast look. A black turtleneck accented his features, and was paired with white manpris and black loafers. A smile lit up his eyes as he extended his hand, then pulled mine up to his lips for a chaste kiss when I attempted to reciprocate.

Luke rolled his eyes. “And this is Gavin Hobbes, Accountant.” Gavin was five foot tenish, with a stout build, short brown hair parted low on the left side, a week’s worth of scruff and black-framed glasses, sort of the men’s version of a cat’s eye. He was dressed in baggy jeans, a white T-shirt emblazoned with an image of Monty Python’s Black Night that was captioned ‘’Tis but a scratch’ and a pair of well-worn brown leather Birkenstocks. He was the only one who spoke, and I was stunned by his Irish brogue as he kissed both my cheeks in turn, which in conjunction with his blue, blue eyes reminded me of my father just enough to stir a longing deep within me, for him to be alive again and part of my world.

“Maude Gallagher. Pleasure to meet you. Can’t understand why this lot…” He gestured to the other four with his thumb. “…is so bloody quiet. They’ve been driving me out of my gourd for the past week with their incessant warbling about your seminar, which was top notch, by the way, and all the questions they can’t wait to ask you.”

Agnes stomped her Ked on the floor playfully. “Gavin, you are SUCH a tit. It’s her first day, she doesn’t want to be barraged the moment she walks through the door.” She turned to me, smiling warmly. “Don’t mind him, Maude. He’s just cranky ‘cause he’s stuck doing maths all day long.”

Gavin huffed. “I’m stuck doing ‘maths’ because none of you are up to the task.” He grinned. “And because if I had to deal with what you all deal with on a regular basis I’d set up a cot in the corner of the Beehive Pub, never to be seen anywhere else ever again.”

When the laughter died down, I cleared my throat. “Just want to clarify…you’ve all seen my seminar?”

Luke nodded. “We watched it as a group last week. Twice.”

I whistled. “Damn, that’s an awful lot of…me.” My eyes moved from one of my new colleagues to the next, all the way down the line. “So. Questions. I can do questions. After pizza cool?” Four nods followed. “Good deal.”

They all wandered over to the counter to choose their poison, and I turned to Luke. “I’m assuming you paid for the seminar…let me know what the order number was and I’ll refund your money.” His mouth dropped open, but I beat him to the punch. “Ah ah ah…no arguing. Consider it a thank you for reminding me that it was, like, AVAILABLE for sale because I haven’t checked the order queue and good lord if anyone had an issue with downloading or something…”

Luke bit his lip, then smiled sheepishly. “I know you’re still technically Tom’s Social Media Manager and not officially Director yet, but that seems to be going well so it crossed my mind that perhaps while you’re in town you could wear both hats? And maybe a few more on top of those?”

I patted his shoulder gently. “No problemo. I’ll be your gal Friday. Though that’s just secretarial stuff, traditionally. Jack of all trades? I don’t like that either. Anyway. Feel free to use my abilities to your benefit in whatever capacity you deem fitting.” Preparing myself for a snarky comment from Simon, I found him to be MIA when I glanced around. “Where the hell did Simon go?”

A knocking drew my attention to a large glass enclosure, like the offices upstairs, but all windows except for the back wall. Dove grey carpet, a large white desk, six foot wide and five feet deep, perpendicular to the room’s sides, shelves on the front towards the door, another media:scape display on the back wall centered with the desk. Two white tower cabinets, two feet or so wide, were tucked into the rear room corners, large storage on top, file cabinets on the bottom. The chairs were matte stainless with purple top and bottom cushions, same shade as my shirt yet again, one on each side of the desk and facing each other. He waved when I spotted him, pizza box in his other hand. I grinned and headed his way, Luke muttering something about office harmony in my wake.

As I neared the entrance, the staff work area caught my eye. The entire right side of the downstairs was carpeted in a medium grey tone, patterned with lighter grey swirls that resembled flower petals. Three of the modular walls rested in front of the building’s walls, left side grey, the right whiteboard, with a large blonde wooden vertical inset in their centers, a large media:scape display on the right one, two small on the left. The long rear wall was grey as well, with a horizontal white board running across its center. Two four-person workstations had been placed off-center, the left directly up against the wall and under the two small displays, the right three feet or so over from thoes, leaving lecture room near the right whiteboard and large display. A blonde wood shelf hung to the right of the large display, and a purple upholstered…something…sat underneath. Miniature bench? Step? Footrest? I had no clue. The workstations were five feet long and four feet wide, white, rectangular with tubular bases. Each had four chairs, matte stainless bases, white trimmed seats, black stripes on the backs, theseat and back cushions upholstered in purple. Four laptops rested on the far left station, a single one and lots of papers on the right.

“Maude, stop gawking and get in here. This pizza is NOT going to eat itself.”

Simon and I sat at his desk, Luke joining us after grabbing a slice of some weird looking pizza with chicken on it, and the rest of the staff popped in and out. Midway through I’d gotten a text from Tom, letting me know that he’d finished with the therapist and was going to grab his own lunch and then head to the market. As if I knew where or what that was.

After we’d all finished, we adjourned to the work area, where I answered question after question. The kids, which, though it was downright ageist of me, was how I thought of them, all took copious notes, typing away as I spoke. They asked if I wouldn’t mind re-watching the seminar with them, and we covered an hour of material in the course of two and a half, pausing and discussing topics frequently. Before I knew it, it was four PM and apparently time for everyone to head home, except for Lyssa, who normally stayed until five Monday through Thursday and until seven on Fridays. Start time for PR and accounting was eight AM, and Lyssa was in by nine unless it was her late day, when she came in at eleven. Agnes, Weng, Bridget and Matthias were, however, expected to be available as needed even when they were off the clock, which apparently didn’t happen often unless Luke was out of town.

As I said goodnight and headed upstairs, I realized I hadn’t heard from Tom again. Figuring he’d come home and was waiting for me, I turned the key in the lock, calling his name as I pushed the door open. I received no response, but a quick scan of the flat found him sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Tossing my bag on the countertop as I passed by, I walked quickly towards him.

“Tom?”

He didn’t reply, but as I reached him he removed his hands and stared up at me, eyes red-rimmed and dull. The best description of his expression I could muster was ‘shell shocked’. I dropped down on the couch beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. As he leaned into me, I tried to disguise the trepidation I knew my voice would project. It was a loaded question, one I wasn’t sure I wanted answered.

“What’s wrong?”

Reaching out to take my hand, he spoke slowly, obviously choosing his words very, very carefully.

“When I was in Waitrose…that’s the market, sorry…my phone went off. The number looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it so I let it go to voicemail.” He picked it up off the coffee table with his free hand, unlocked it and pressed play with his thumb.

It was a woman’s voice, British, crisp and clear with an undertone of haughtiness. “Hello, Tom. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you but didn’t have your number. I reached out to Diana last week, and she was kind enough to give it to me and let me know you’d be back in town today. We lunched at The Folly Saturday and had a lovely time.” A brief pause. “I…I was hoping we could get together and talk about everything. I miss you, Thomas. And I still love you. I know it’s been so long…and I didn’t realize quite how much until I saw you with that…that…woman. I regret not marrying you, and…well, you know what else. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about it, about what I’ve done and how I hurt you. And, I must admit, I thouroughly hate the idea of you settling for someone so far beneath your station, Thomas. So does Diana. Do give me a ring when you have a moment. Please. Speak with you soon.”

The phone was shaking furiously, as was the hand holding it. He swallowed several times, cleared his throat, met my gaze, his eyes full of grief and pain and horror, and even though I already knew I let him say it anyway.

“That…that was…” A deep breath. “Jane.”

[wearebraveyourhighness]

Because, I am meanie and said Lauren should do all of them I guess I should do them all to just to be fair. :)

1: Top 3 ice cream flavors

MInt, Purple Cow, and Blueberry Cheesecake

2: Top 3 disney movies

Beauty & The Beast, Pirates Of The Caribbean, and Robin Hood

3: Top 3 vacation destinations

Ireland, Alaska, and England

4: Top 3 places to shop

Love Culture, Hot Topic, and Worlds Market

5: Top 3 school subjects

English, Creative Writing, and History

6: Top 3 makeup products

Eyeshadow (that’s mostly it because I’m not exactly a girly girl, lol)

7: Top 3 music artists

Shakira, Lady Gaga, and Christian Kane

8: Top 3 spices/herbs

Mint, Parsley, & Sage

9: Top 3 drinks

Sprite, Lemonade, and Chocolate Milk

10: Top 3 apps to use

Etsy, BeFunky, and Tribez

11: Top 3 months of the year

January, February, and October

12: Top 3 clothing items

Boots, Leggings, and Sweater

13: Top 3 tv shows

Prison Break, The Originals, and Beauty & The Beast

14: Top 3 romantic dates

Walking in the park, Sitting on the back of a tailgate watching the stars, and Bonfires

15: Top 3 kinds of flower

Lilies, Roses, and Lilacs

16: Top 3 christmas movies

Frosty The Snowman, White Christmas, and Prep & Landing

17: Top 3 OTPs

Rey & Kylo Ren, Sherlock Holmes & Joan Watson, Hayley & Elijah from The Originals

18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life

I don’t really have 3 quotes to describe my life. I just like quotes in general. Can’t narrow it down to 3.

19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself

I’m very motherly even though I have yet to actually have children, I like my eyes, and I’m a very good listener to some people I’m more a psychiatrist than a friend sometimes, lol.

20: Top 3 kinds of candy

Sweet Tarts, Sprees, and Jolly Rancher

21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active

Dancing, Squats, and Hiking

22: Top 3 spirit animals

Wolf, Eagle, and Deer

23: Top 3 pet names

Peekaboo (I use to peek under doors as a kid. I was very curious.), Sweetie Pie, and one other one I don’t care to mention, lol.

24: Top 3 books

I don’t have a top 3 for books because I like all books. :)

25: Top 3 most used websites

Tumblr, My work website so I can figure out my schedule for the week, and 

26: Top 3 people you last texted

My fiance’ Adam, my friend Scott, and my best friend Virginia

27: Top 3 hashtags you use

I don’t really use hashtags

28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow

I don’t use Instagram

29: Top 3 guilty pleasures

Sweet Tarts, Fuzzy blankets, and SeaGrams

30: Top 3 summer activities

Swimming, Camping, and Hiking

31: Top 3 things to draw

Landscapes is the only thing I can draw. I suck at rest. 

32: Top 3 aesthetics

No idea what that means....

33: Top 3 things you’d buy if you gained three million dollars

A house w/farm, land for a wildlife preserve for wolf conservation, and a new car

34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself

Pedicure, Hair coloring, and a Nap

35: Top 3 celebrity crushes

Hayden Christensen, Tatanka Means, and Christian Kane

36: Top 3 books from your childhood

Good Night Moon, Arthur Series, and Robin Hood

37: Top 3 accents to hear

Irish, Australian, and Scottish

38: Top 3 scents

Vanilla, Lavender, and Cinnamon

39: Top 3 “friends” quotes

Don’t have any quotes really

40: Top 3 cupcake flavors

Chocolate, Vanilla, and Marble

41: Top 3 fruits

Blueberries, Raspberries, and Mango

42: Top 3 places you’ve had amazing pizza from

Dominos, Pizza Hut, and Tony’s

43: Top 3 sports teams to watch

I don’t have any

44: Top 3 crayola colors

Purple, Blue, and Red

45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college

Went to college and graduated

46: Top 3 fanfictions you’ve read

I don’t remember what there titles are

47: Top 3 people you miss right now

My fiance’, my grandma who passed away, and my 

48: Top 3 fears

Blood, Germs, and Death

49: Top 3 favorite literary devices

No idea what that means.

50: Top 3 pet peeves

When guys can’t put the seat down, when people assume things about others, and when people put stigma against mental illness

51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive

Smile, Eyes, and Hands

52: Top 3 bad habits

I bite my nails, I pick at myself when I’m anxious/nervous, and I don’t go to church as often as I should.

53: Top 3 pets you’ve had/wish to have

I've had a lot of pets I don’t think I would wish to have anything else.

54: Top 3 types of foreign food

I love anything Italian

55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime

That is a tough question because I honestly don’t have an answer to that

56: Top 3 dog breeds

Husky, Great Pyrenees, and Labrador

57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies

I really don’t watch a lot of romance movies

58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak

Irish Gaelic, German, and French

59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television)

Prison Break, Star Wars, and Call The Midwife

60: Top 3 pizza toppings

Cheese, Pineapple, and Ham

61: Top 3 youtubers you’re subscribed to

Adalia Rose, Lucas The Spider, and Batdad

62: Top 3 tattoo/piercing ideas

I want to get a Celtic cross/knot on the back of my neck, a semicolon behind my ear or on my wrist, and a quote I can’t remember on my forearm. 

63: Top 3 awards you want to win

I’m not one who likes being awarded for things

64: Top 3 emojis

I use a lot of the Star Wars ones, the hugging bear, and smiley faces

65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning

I’m not really into cars. I’m good with anything that gets me from Point A to Point B.

66: Top 3 authors

I don’t have a top 3

67: Top 3 historical figures

Hatshepsut, Pocahontas, and Joan of Arc

68: Top 3 baby names

Lyanna, Anakin, and Natalie

69: Top 3 DIYs

Jewelry, Tie blankets, and Crocheting

70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors

Wild Berry, Mango, and Pomegranate

71: Top 3 songs of this month

Feral Hearts by Kerli, Alejandro by Lady Gaga, and Teeth by Lady Gaga

72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked

I’m not shy ask me anything :)

73: Top 3 villains

Harley Quinn, Darth Revan, and Kylo Ren

74: Top 3 Cities you want to see

I want to go back to Washington D.C., Salem/Ipswich, and Seattle.

75: Top 3 recipes you want to try

I don’t have three I have a whole drawer full :)

76: Top 3 dream jobs

Egyptologist/Historian, Veterinarian, and Writer

77: Top 3 lucky items

I don’t believe in that sort of thing

78: Top 3 traditions you have

I don’t really have any traditions I have

79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid

I barely remember my childhood if I did I could tell you something

80: Top 3 harry potter characters

Luna Lovegood, Hermione, and Harry Potter

81: Top 3 lies you were told

Rather not talk about it

82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now

They’re all nature shots

83: Top 3 turn ons

Smile, Eyes, and Honestly

84: Top 3 turn offs

Liars, High maintenance, and Rude

85: Top 3 magazines/newspapers/journals to read

I actually don’t read mags or newspapers

86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier

There are to many to count....

87: Top 3 spongebob episodes

Never really watched it

88: Top 3 places to be in the world

Home, Nature Preserve, and Museums

89: Top 3 things you’d do differently

To many to count, tbh.

90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood

Power Rangers, Batman, and Pokemon

91: Top 3 meals you love

PB&J sandwiches, Mac Cheese, and Meatloaf

92: Top 3 kinds of tea

I hate drinking tea, yuck

93: Top 3 embarrassing moments

I am very clumsy so you can guess the stupid things I’ve done, lol

94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate

Christmas, 4th of July, and Star Wars Day

95: Top 3 things to do in the rain

Listen to it, Read in a nook, and Nap

96: Top 3 things to do in the snow

Snowboard, Snow Angel, and Snowballs

97: Top 3 items you can’t leave the house w/o

Purse, Cell Phone, and Keys

98: Top 3 movies you’d like to see

I don’t keep up to date with movies

99: Top 3 art mediums

Smithsonian

100: Top 3 museums you’ve been to

Various Smithsonian’s in Washington D.C.

101: Top 3 school memories

I played soccer, School choir, and FFA

102: Top 3 things you don’t/won’t miss

My younger years when I was bullied a lot, My past, and People who I thought were friends

103: Top 3 pick up lines

No idea....

104: Top 3 sports to watch

Soccer, Snowboarding, and Surfing

105: Top 3 taylor swift songs

Your kidding right.......

[orbemnews]

Epic v. Apple: The legal challenge that could remake the future of the digital economy Because it has set things up this way, Apple wields huge power over the terms it can dictate to app makers. One in particular has become a thorny issue, even if most consumers are unlikely to notice it: Any time you buy a digital product or service on many iOS apps, it is processed on an Apple-run payment system, and Apple collects a 30% fee from that. Now, a federal judge is slated to decide: Is Apple’s policy just a hugely successful business model — or is it a violation of US antitrust law? In a trial starting Monday, the judge will consider whether Apple is justified in requiring many app makers — and by extension, consumers — to use the company’s payments technology. The potentially landmark trial stems from a lawsuit filed by the maker of the hit video game Fortnite, which Apple booted from its platform last summer for not complying with its rule. The high-profile case will involve witnesses including Apple CEO Tim Cook and his top lieutenants. Representatives for Facebook and Microsoft are also expected to testify. Corporate emails and presentations could fuel a fierce courtroom battle over app store policies, which are increasingly under scrutiny by regulators in Europe, lawmakers in the United States and many others. The judge’s ruling — and, of course, the appeals that will almost certainly follow — could have huge ramifications not only for Apple and its iOS ecosystem, but potentially for other app stores and the overall app economy, which has grown to hundreds of billions of dollars and supports millions of jobs. It’s a case that could either transform the way many in-app purchases work, or entrench the power tech platforms have to set the rules of an increasingly digital world. As Silicon Valley’s expanding reach has moved Congress to propose new laws aimed at restraining the tech industry’s biggest players, the outcome of the case may even shape the broader future of tech regulation. A swift removal App developers and tech industry observers have complained about Apple’s policies for years. But things reached a boiling point last summer when Epic updated its hugely popular Fortnite app for iOS. With the update, players were encouraged to buy virtual currency (used for items such as in-game outfits and emotes directly from Epic, rather than from within the Fortnite app. Players who used Epic’s payment system would receive a discount reflecting a portion of Apple’s fees, the company said. As a violation of Apple’s rules against outside payment channels, the announcement led to the game’s swift removal from the Apple app store. Existing players couldn’t receive updates to the game, and new players couldn’t download the app. That’s when Epic sued and further escalated matters by launching a flashy publicity campaign with the hashtag #FreeFortnite. It even released an ad that satirized, beat for beat, Apple’s famous “1984” advertisement. With the suit, Epic alleges that Apple holds a monopoly on the distribution of iOS apps, and that Apple’s rules around payments are illegal because they shut out potential rivals. The result, Epic has alleged, are higher prices for iOS users and less innovation in the app marketplace. If it weren’t for Apple’s rules, Epic would launch its own iOS app store and offer cheaper payment systems, the company has said in court filings. But right now, “Epic is forced, like so many other developers, to charge higher prices on its users’ in-app purchases on Fortnite in order to pay Apple’s 30% tax,” the company wrote in its initial complaint. Apple disputes that it operates a monopoly, arguing that consumers — and Fortnite fans — aren’t forced into using Apple devices or Apple’s app platform. The 30% fee it collects on app transactions is comparable, it says, to the 30% commissions charged by other app stores and digital storefronts for video games. And it was Epic that went out of its way to engineer a legal crisis so that it could bring the lawsuit in the first place, Apple argues, citing what it describes as an “intentional act of sabotage” by Epic to break its contracts with Apple. ‘Project Liberty’ The trial is sure to have some lively moments, as the two sides have already sparred in front of the judge hearing it, Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers, who was nominated by President Barack Obama in 2011 to serve on the US District Court for the Northern District of California. Epic’s decision to immediately sue and push to publicize its fight suggested it knew how events would unfold — something Epic’s lawyers have acknowledged. “When you are taking on the biggest company in the world, and you’re taking it on where you know it’s going to retaliate, you don’t lie down in the street and die,” Epic’s attorney, Katherine Forrest, said in one appearance before the judge. “You plan very carefully on how you’re going to respond.” Records introduced during the pre-trial process showed that Epic developed a whole campaign to challenge Apple, called Project Liberty, of which the Fortnite app update and promotion were a critical part. Apple argues the existence of Project Liberty shows the game company was acting in bad faith from the start, because the entire crisis was premeditated. Further, it has argued that Epic is interested in its own profits, not competition. “It initiated its ‘Project Liberty’ campaign as a means of reducing the price for which it must pay for the use of Apple’s intellectual property, and initiated this litigation under the pretense that it simply wants to aid competition, not to boost its own profit margins,” Apple claimed in a recent court filing. Epic has conceded that it broke the terms of its contract with Apple, but justified doing so as a reasonable response to alleged illegal behavior by Apple. Framing the case The central idea behind Epic’s lawsuit is that Apple allegedly used its exclusive ability to sell iOS apps as a form of monopolistic leverage. Apple rejects that premise, arguing that there is no monopoly to speak of, so there can be no antitrust violation. Apple’s store may be the only place for users to download iOS apps, but it isn’t the only place users can find Fortnite or other video games, Apple argues. Apple is, of course, part of a broader market of video game distributors that includes Microsoft, Sony, Nintendo, Valve and Epic itself, all of which operate their own video game software stores. Besides, Apple has argued, its platform rules exist for good reasons, such as ensuring that consumers can’t be targeted by malicious app makers. It’s not illegal to have a monopoly under US law; it’s only illegal to try to preserve a monopoly at the expense of competition. By portraying itself as part of a competitive market of video game sellers, Apple seeks to avoid both criticisms. Much of the case could hinge on this framing exercise, as well as the underlying justifications for Apple’s store rules. “The question at the heart of it,” said Adam Kovacevich, founder of Chamber of Progress, a tech advocacy group backed by Google, “is this: ‘Does Apple as the marketplace owner — do they have rights, essentially, to run their marketplace as they like?'” Some legal experts say that, from a competition perspective, things are more complicated. “Once people are in an ecosystem, they are very locked in,” said John Bergmayer, an attorney at the consumer advocacy organization Public Knowledge. “I have an investment in the apps I bought, I have all kinds of data and stuff. It would be a huge hassle to switch, and so most people just don’t.” Under scrutiny Scrutiny of app store policies has spiked internationally in the past year amid a wider turn against Big Tech . European officials announced a probe of Apple’s rules last summer. British authorities said in March they, too, were investigating. Last month Apple was fined $12 million in Russia over alleged anti-competitive app store policies; the company has disputed the allegations. Last year, an investigation and report by the House Judiciary Committee’s antitrust panel concluded that Apple, Amazon, Facebook and Google enjoy “monopoly power” and have exercised it in ways that have hindered innovation and reduced consumer choice. Apple and Google were forced to defend their app store policies before a US Senate hearing last month led by the powerful antitrust subcommittee. Major app companies including Spotify, Tile and Match Group — which owns the dating app Tinder — accused Apple and Google of everything from exorbitant marketplace fees to retaliation for refusing to comply with the platforms’ terms. Apple and Google rejected those allegations, arguing in the hearing that their platform policies help ensure the safety and security of their app stores and that they do not engage in retaliatory behavior. But prominent lawmakers were not persuaded; subcommittee chair Sen. Amy Klobuchar vowed to investigate claims of retaliation and Sen. Mike Lee, the panel’s top Republican, called Apple and Google’s power over Americans “unprecedented.” At several points, both lawmakers quoted directly from documents filed in the Epic case. Source link Orbem News #APPLE #challenge #Digital #Economy #Epic #Epicv.Apple:Thelegalchallengethatcouldremakethefutureofthedigitaleconomy-CNN #Future #Legal #Remake #Tech

[alishbakhanus]

26 gorgeous wedding ideas that will completely amaze your guests

Wedding plans may be short-lived for some couples, but sometimes a little extra time for planning is not bad. Wedding trends come and go, but there is one tried and tested style that remains somewhat timeless – country. The word “country” can mean many things to many people, as this is exactly what will translate to your wedding vision? To refine your search, we’ve put together some of the best rustic wedding ideas from real couples that will inspire your own ceremony and reception. Your decision to go to the country can help communicate everything from wedding shower ideas to your honeymoon!

The easiest way to ensure your big day is filled with country spirit is to place it in the bridal wedding venue. But if the location of the barn is impossible, do not despair. You do not need a family farm to create a charming wedding. Haystack seats, lights with lights for masonry and other small details are sure to give you the mood. And let the season affect the decor. Autumn wedding cakes, topped with autumn flowers or apples, are sure to make guests suffocate. No matter where and when you spend the romance, a country wedding is a place where you show off your love for everything rustic and vintage in scenery and style.

How cute is that

Have you ever seen a more perfect wedding cake than this one? We not only go down over the tight-fitting chocolate trim, but the floral decorations (especially sunflowers) only enhance the elegant coziness of the confectionery vibration. Let’s not write a wooden cake stand that complements the coloring of the cake like nothing else.

Add seedlings of color to the barn

Yes, the perfect barn really does exist! This one is at Hammer Sky Vineyards in California. A festive garland of honeycombs in the color palette of the wedding – all that this barn should be ready for the party (well, a ladybug at a party in a ladybug won’t hurt!).

In a good way

Before embarking on your married life with your new husband, allow your loved ones to lay any wedding bills in a vintage suitcase at the reception. Mark the area with a small “map” sign obtained from pieces of heart-shaped burlap.

No rain on my parade

The most ingenious contrasting vase substitute? Mini rain boots that can be used as table decorations for guests, or as an addition to the decor. And you know what they say: rain on your wedding day means good luck. So whatever the weather, let it be a barely noticeable nod to your future.

Fun and festive on the farm

Keep the jewelry simple! Straw bales, draped with cloth or cloth napkins, loose compositions with bright flowers and holiday honeycombs – all you need to start the party.

Message in a bottle

Standard books for wedding guests have brought a little recipe to the pass, with more relatives looking for creative alternatives. Enter a message in the route from the bottles, which can double as a newly decorated house even after the wedding day. Guests have the opportunity to write down their wishes, but this format makes it more enjoyable.

A trip for life

Any young wedding party attendees to walk down the aisle, seek the help of a harbinger to pull them in the village carriage and make sure they still have a radiant moment. The teddy bear with the streamer “Here comes the bride” makes the setting even more convenient for the wedding.

No turning around

Say “I” on your family’s farm? Especially ideal for autumn weddings, the corn maze with decorative hay entrance will delight guests of all ages. Whether it’s the main entertainment during a cocktail hour or you even plan to exchange vows in front of the cornfield itself, nothing can achieve that.

Nature is done

A mason’s jar, pieces of wood, twine and lace: This central part has all the elements needed for a rustic chic wedding. Also, a combo of shorter embellishments means guests can still get confused from behind the table, without any coordinators interfering with their gaze.

Pop out fresh

Bring in a rustic fair atmosphere the old-fashioned popcorn bar. Offer balls with popcorn as well as fresh nipples with various condiments for guests to snack on before taking. You can also send friends and relatives home with an extra bag – because no one can resist an edible wedding service.

Bee mine

Thank you to the wedding guests for coming with an exciting sweet treat – tiny pots of local honey. To ensure that the gifts for the house merge with an attractive village wedding, however, display them on pedestals from village boxes.

Pastoral perfection

The blanket is covered with hay bales, umbrellas, yellow streamers and horses?! It couldn’t be more perfect, especially with the natural passage of dirt and the tree-bound promises.

Circle up

Half a circle of hay bales surround the village altar Saturated with burlap and wooden vines creates an intimate place of rite in the open air – each has a beautiful view of the future bride and groom. This pair covered bales of hay with pieces of old lace and embroidered tablecloths of their grandmothers and aunts to create comfortable places for guests.

I take off my hat

Of course, the flower girl needs to throw the petals out of the cowboy hat while the wearer of the ring gets dressed. Cowboy boots are also a must for both mini wedding participants in addition to colorful accessories.

Love potion

Entertainment click when you have an outdoor beer bar so guests can serve themselves as at this wedding on the ranch, where the groom’s homemade beer was for everyone who could enjoy. Use the labels on the board to give everyone a head up on what kvass they’re sipping, and instead of beer glasses you need to have Mason jars.

Under your spell

The letters of the sketches, hung under lanterns, announce you’re LOVE on this barn wedding, which is magical and simple. It’s also an amazing background photo for guests that can be posted and tagged along with the wedding hashtag.

Happy trails

Give your loved ones a healthy snack with a homemade trail mix bar stocked with nuts, popcorn, pretzels, chocolates and more to fill cellophane bags. For maximum edge work, use barrel sets as the base of the station.

Candy Land

A similarity may be the range of vintage dressers and tables under the wood dessert buffet for each type of sweet tooth. Fill pharmacy jars with candy, top pie stands, wells, pies and layered trays with paws. Use one surface for strokes and lemonade to constantly moisturize guests while dancing under the stars.

Initial exposure

Bring gorgeous bales of hay to the wedding farm to an impressive decor with a flower monogram for Mr. and Mrs.

Site sweet

Lay the groundwork for a festive show, using a wheelbarrow full of soil and seed packs, perfect for an intimate wedding in an apple orchard. Support the hand sign on the rake and put a couple of other farm implements for extra village vibration.

Mix and match

A village wedding in a family barn is the perfect place to overcome the official rules of sitting at a wedding. Mix and match the design and color of the chairs for a home feel; maintain a style, such as back stairs or size, to be purposefully eclectic. Try also to give your dishes the same discrepancy.

Vintage threads

Don’t let Aunt Mae get into the unprepared for the plumbing that she will definitely feel watching you say “I will”. Assemble simple and embroidered porches – anyone before the competition, anyone? – And set a small basket for guests to capture their upcoming “tears of joy”, as in this composition, seen on 100 layers of cake.

Mood

Built-in window frames create an attractive focus for the altar when hanging from a rustic wooden structure. The simple seat installation also looks incredible with the beautiful stretch marks and colors that work in the aisle.

Bar None

Cultivated wood is the main product, and this village bar from Archive Rental proves that it can be raised from a pile of rubbish to style stars. A garland from Chloe + Mint adds country chic. Aside from the dance floor, you can expect it to be the most popular venue.

Farm to become

Who needs fancy floral centerpieces when you can fill rustic wooden boxes with lush farm generosity? As for the dinner menu itself, bonus points for serving any dish on a fresh farm.

Jarring experience

There is no more dreamy way to get married than standing under a tree filled with Masonic pendants hanging from candlesticks, especially at dusk. Such a décor scheme makes a huge statement without spending too much budget on the wedding.

Courtesy: best banquet halls in Lahore

[emziley]

All of the even numbers!

P.s I hope this spaced out like I want it too because if not its going to be one hell of a read and I am sorry...2, Nicknames that didnt come from my actual name: Alma (because the woman in sister act who can’t hear 😂) er thers probably others I can’t think of right now…4, Longest my hair has ever been:Down to my butt. Never again.6,What is one (1) Item on bucket list: To meet all my long-distance frienfs in person8, Oldest pice of clothing I still wear:Umm I probably have socks from when I was a kid I still wear XD idk10, How grammatically correct are you when you text?:I typically text how I would actually talk out loud so not very…12, what foreign country would you like to visit and why? :Probably Ireland is first on my list because of how beautiful it is and how much of my family came from there 14, how old where you when you had your first kiss? 17 or 18 I think? I was a senior in highschool 16, have you ever hosted a wild party? Wild? No. 18, How many of your facebook friends to you actually hang out with?Like… 7 max not including family? 20, on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy decorating for hollidays Uhh probably like an 8? I enjoy how they look but the effort of putting them up and taking them down I could do without lol 22, what is your go to starbucks drink?I have never had starbucks :/24, Dogs or Cats?Why choose?26, have you ever cooked a big family meal by yourself?Not really? I mean, If I make pasta it could feed a large family…. 28, Have you ever butt dialed anyone?Probably.30, How early do you start celebrating christmas?Right after thanks giving XD32, Are you fluent in more than one language? I wish I was tbh….maybe some day…34, Have you ever been on a successful diet?I feel like “successful” and “diet” arent words that can really be used together in a positive way.36, how good are you at communicating through facial expressions?Better than with words…38, Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was over? Not that I can remember…40, Does your home have a fire place?We have a fernace and then a fake electric one in the living room42, If you could have one (1) super power what would it be and why?The power to manipulate probablility because you can have anything you want? Like whats the probably of me getting pizza tonight? Probablg like 40% but I could turn that 40% into 100% and definatly get pizza tonight.44, do you listen to religious music? Not typically, no.46, what is your ACT score?🙃48, On a scale of 1-10 how good of a driver would you consider yourself? Idk like a 5? I dont have my licents because im scared to drive but the times I did go out and drive I wasnt bad.50, How easily do you cry?VERY. You could look at me wrong and there will be tears. Or a puppy could do something cute and water works are on the way lol52, when you hang out with your closest friend what do you usually do? My closest friend is my partner so we’re usually cuddling or playing games or watching something on YouTube or Netflix54, Can you play any musical instraments? If so which ones?Yes! I can play the guitar, steel drums, and piano (albeit not well) , I can sing and honestly, would like to learn more instraments soon!56, What was the last CD you bought?Either X or ÷ by Ed Sheeran for my sister for christmas I think58, What day is your laundry day?Right now, Monday-Saturday, I dont typically have a specific day just as long as its not sunday, thats dads laundry day!60, How long have you known your best friend?4 or 5 years now?62, do you have any stickers on your laptop?Currently I don’t have my own laptop, but I use my moms and she has a message from my aunt tapped on it kind of like a sticker? It says “Teddy grams 3 points” from when they where doing weight watchers XD64, what is your favorite flavor ice cream?Mint chocolate chip!66, Star Treck or Star WarsI haven’t seen either tbh but I want to! 68, Have you ever acted in a play or musical?Yes! Anything goes, A mid-summer nights dream, 9 to 5, Mrs. McThing, and Tarzan! I still have A mid-summer nights dream on DVD lol I wish I could again…70, What is the shortest your hair has been?I think chin length? 72, Do you like to go fishing?My dad told me a horror story once about when he went fishing with his brother… I’ll spare you the details but I’m afraid to go…but I have before and I dont have the patients tbh I do love fish though!74, what was your favorite holoween costume and how old where you?I was the I think red M&M? Idk how old I was but probably between 4 and 876, How many pillows do you sleep with?Between 1 and 4. Depends if Im sharing.78, How many friends of the oposite gender do you have?I….Really dont know? I think half of them don’t even know their own gender tbh80, How long have you been at your current jobI currently dont have a job :/82, How flexible are you?Psyically not very, but im working on that!84, what is a phrase you say the most?“Why are you like this” is probably my favorite XD 86, Do you own any home made clothing?Some of my cosplays are home made, along with a prom dress! 88, Have you every given anyone CPR No, I know how to but I think in the situation I would panic and freeze and not even be able to…90, Discribe your sense of humor?Odd and all over the place. 92, What is your favorite cereal?Probably honey smacks! 94, Have you ever had a TV show theme song stuck in your head?I get a few stuck in my head from time to time, like Steven Universe or Gravity Falls and stuff 96, Do you believe in life on other planets?Yeah…. I mean bacteria and stuff is tecnically life? But there’s gotta be something outside our solar system too…98, what is your biggest fear?Dying alone or being abandoned….100, are you still friends with anyone from highschool?Yes.102, How patient are you?With other people? Very. With myself? Not really. With waiting for something to happen? Not at all. 104, Do you eat meat? Yeah, im picky about it though…106, Have you ever bought anything from the flea market? I don’t think so?108, Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head that you dont like?Unfortunatly.110, Have you ever warn glasses?Yes! I did when I was young, went a few years without needing them and now wear them again.112, Are your birth parents still together?Yes.114, what is your favorite type of cookie?Peanut butter blossoms. The peanut butter ones with the Hershey kiss in the middle 😍116, How often do you smile when getting your picture taken? I usually smile I think? If im taking selfies I sometimes do a pouty face but…?118, what is your oldest memory?I have a very distinct memory of sitting in my crib with my legs hanging out the side. I don’t know why I remember THAT but I do120, How often do you snort when you laugh?I dont know? Not too often… but if you get me really laughing I will and it makes me laugh more. Right now I’ve just been laughing and coughing so~122, What is your favorite Disney song? Probably “How far I’ll go” from moana? Or like anything from mulan XD124, What is your Mayers-Briggs personality type? INFP-T 126, one (1) thing yoy wish people would stop posting on social media: Pictures and shit of animal abuse. I get the posts like “hey this is a shit thing to do” but do we really need photos or videos of it?…. and when reported to facebook you’re told it “doesn’t violate community guidelines” like bull fucking shit it doesnt. 128, do you prefer Credit Cards or cash?Cash, its easier for me to keep track of, and money gives me anxiety. 130, What is your astrological sign?I fall on a cusp birthday so I am technically both a Scorpio and Sagitarius. 132, Do you have any hidden talents?I don’t even have any visable talents…134, What gives yoy motivstion to do well in life?I dont know but whatever it is isn’t working.136, on a scale od 1-10 how much are you like your father?Looks: like 3, personality: 8ish 138, A moment when you where pleasently suprised?Probably when Tom actually said yes to dating me after 3 days of waiting. At that point I gave up hope at the words “I’ll have to think about it” so when they said yes it was just~ 😶140, what type of shoes do you wear the most?My penguin sneakers! Or my boots… either one lol142, Favorite song to sing in the shower?I have a whole playlist of songs just to sing… and my top 5 from that in no particular order is 1. Red flavor by red velvet 2. Evil by shinee, 3. Good bye by Taemin, 4, cotton candy by astro and 5, Nightmare by shinee. They’re all kpop so its kinda hard 😂144, Have you ever lived on a farm? I mean where my house is used to be a farm? We have barns and stuff. We also grow some fruits and vegetables and at one point had ducks? but I wouldn’t really say I lived on a farm… 146, what tv show or movie do you quote or make referances to the most? Probably steven universe? Idk148, Have you ever gotten stiches?No, and I probably wouldn’t be able yo handle if if I had to. 150, What is your favorite youtube channel?As embarrassing as it is to say to you~ it probably will always be artfulImpersonator 😶😶😶 152, on a scale of 1-10 how well do you work with others?Im going to say 5 because it REALLY depends who im working with. 154, Apple or PC?….uh they both have good qualities, I guess it depends what Im using it for, but I guess PC for casual use156, Have you ever seen a broadway play or musical? I seen Newsies and almost fell asleep…. not because it was a bad show or anything but because it was a school trip and I was just exhausted. 158, Have you ever uttered a spoke hashtag? #yes. Usually as jokes but uhhh sometimes I get carried away. 160, What is the longest you went without sleep? Probably 24 hours? Maybe less? 162, Disney or Nickelodeon? As I kid I was a Disney kid, but Now probably Nick?164, On a scale from 1-10 how much are you like your mom?Looks: 8 personality: maybe a 6?166, Ear bud or Ear muff style headphones?Ear muff style! Ear buds hurt my ears :(168, any peircings besides earlobe? Nah,170, Showers or baths?I like them both. For actually cleaning showers but for relaxing baths. Something about the warm water :)172, do you prefer bottled or tap water?Depends where I am? At my house Tap but most places bottled.174, Do you have any guilty pleasures you’d be comfortable talking about?Guilty pleasures? Pleanty. Comfortable talking about on a public forum such as tumblr? Not really XD…. I mean I guess liking one direction still is a guilty pleasure? Or some of the anime’s I watch? I’ll mention those ones176, Ever had a new years kiss exactly at midnight? No…. I found im usually grumpy on new years? I wonder why? 🤔178, Have you ever gave money to a homeless person? I dont think so :( I dont usually have that much on me… 180, What is your least favorite food? Anything slimey. Im a very texture based eater… 182, Do you like wearing hats? When im not wearing cat ears, yes!184, SAT score?🙃🙃186, anyone in your family currently serve in your countries military? I think my cousin, Yeah?…or he wants to or something im not sure…188, what celebrity would you like to play you in a movie about your life? Can I just play myself? 190, Have you ever dyed your hair? Yes, and it needs to be dyed again! Idk what color I want to do next though :/192, whats the first site you visit after opining a web browser? Depends what I went in the computer for but I guess generally Tumblr or Facebook 194, where you involved in any academic clubs in school? Unfortunatly, no. 196, are you comfortable watching R rated movies? Yeah, im fine with them.... unless im with my parents 😨198, what's the first thing you do when you wake up? Check my phone.200, tell us something most people don't know about youThat I have a collection of stuffed giraffes in my closet from when I was a kid. I no longer collect them but alot of them are still sitting in a bag in my closet because I've grown attached...