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butterfliesandblueeyes · 6 months

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MEANT TO BE

👙 You thought the man you met at the coffee shop was perfect for you. That was until you discovered something that said otherwise.

pairings : Bucky Barnes x reader

w/c : 1.1k

warnings : stalking, Bucky

a/n : As always, I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for the support!

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"Ah fuck," you groaned as as your coffee soaked into your white blouse. Napkins were pressed against you by the stranger who knocked into you.

"I'm really sorry. I should have been looking where I was going," he ranted on, his cheeks reddening.

You looked up, locking eyes with the handsome stranger. "It's okay, it was an accident," you reassured him.

He sighed as he ran his hand through his shoulder length brown hair. "Well I'm Bucky," he introduced himself as he continued dabbing the napkin over the stain on your blouse. You gave him your name which put a smile on his face, his charming smile making your own appear.

"Let me buy you another coffee?" He offered.

"Oh no that's okay-"

"Please. It's the least I can do," Bucky interrupted.

"Okay."

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"I was actually on my way to a job interview since I recently moved to Brooklyn," you told Bucky as he sat across from you drinking his coffee.

He placed his mug down on the table before speaking. "Oh wow, now I feel really terrible for ruining your outfit,"

You giggled. "Don't worry about it, this blouse was cheap at a thrift store, plus I didn't really like it." He gave you another one of his charming smiles. You had only known him for about a half hour but you were already wishing he would never stop smiling. "I should thank you actually. I didn't really want the job either but it was all I could find."

"Well you're welcome," Bucky said in which you laughed. Bucky cleared his throat before speaking. "Hey uh, I know this is really sudden and we've known each other all of five minutes but I'd like to get to know you more," He sighed before continuing. "Would you like to go out tonight?".

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you on a date? "Of course I'd love to go out with you Bucky," you responded, sounding a bit too excited for your liking.

"Well that's good," he exhaled.

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Your first date with Bucky came and went. It was an amazing night. He took you for a walk on the beach then to see a movie and dinner afterwards. It was probably the best date of your life.

Now here you were, standing in front of your mirror picking out an outfit for your 6th date with Bucky. He invited you over to his place for dinner. You had a feeling tonight was the night he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend.

With that being said, you went shopping earlier today to buy a lace bra and panty set with a matching robe. If he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend you wanted to show him how happy that made you. Just thinking about Bucky finally being between your thighs made slick dampen your panties.

"Stop it, save it for tonight," you lectured yourself.

You chose some ripped jeans with a knitted sweater that showed some cleavage for tonight's outfit.

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"That was amazing Buck," you said as you placed your knife and fork on the now empty plate.

"Thank you doll, I'm glad you liked it," he said before he took a swig of his beer.

Before you could speak again, a knock came to the front door of his apartment.

"One sec," he said to you as he put his finger in the air. He got up from his chair and answered the door as you looked around his apartment. You took in the picture frames that hung on the walls. Most photos were of him, a blond man and a black haired man, sometimes a red headed woman appeared.

"Doll," Bucky's voice interrupted your thoughts of who the woman was. You turned to face him.

"Yes?" you answered with a smile. The old lady at the door gave you a small wave in which you returned.

"Just going to help Mrs Webster move her couch in her apartment, okay? I won't be long,"

"Mhmm," you hummed in understanding.

As soon as the front door was shut you shot up from your seat and speed walked towards your handbag. it was stuffed full of the lingerie set. You pulled it out and walked down Bucky's hallways to change into it before he came back.

You didn't know the layout of his house so you didn't know which door led to his bathroom or bedroom. You opened the first door on the left.

Stepping into the room, a shocked gasp left your lips. You dropped the lingerie set onto the ground as your now free hand covered your open mouth. Pinned on all four walls were pictures of you. Some pictures were taken of you when you still lived in your hometown and some pictures were taken when you were in Brooklyn. There was a picture that was taken the day coffee was spilt on you. The day you met Bucky.

The front door slamming made you jump and face an angry Bucky. "Oh doll," he tsked before taking a step towards you. "You really weren't supposed to see all this,"

He moved closer to you as you stood frozen in the threshold. A split second decision had you slamming the door shut and locking it before Bucky could reach you.

Tears made tracks down your cheeks as your back was pressed against the door Bucky was pounding his fists against.

"Stop it please!" you begged.

"Open the door, let me explain all this to you," he responded.

"Just let me go home," you cried. His banging stopped but was later replaced by the lock unclicking. You ran towards the other side of the room and the door was kicked open.

You slid down the wall, hugging your knees as Bucky stepped into the room. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. He spotted your matching lingerie on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. "Oh sweetheart. You were gonna wear this for me?" he said as he came to stand in front of you. He kneeled down beside you, wiping your tears away as they fell from your reddened eyes. "Well aren't I just lucky,"

"Please let me go," you begged as he cupped your cheek.

"I can't baby, you need me to protect you," Bucky said. You shook your head.

"Please," you begged again.

"You wanna know why you?" he asked before continuing. "Well it's those eyes. The first time I saw them I could tell you had a lot of pain hidden inside your heart, a lot of trauma. Just like me. You see, we were meant to be. We're the same, we get each other. And this past month has proved to me that we're meant to be,"

A sob escaped your lips at his words. Just how long had he been watching you?

"Now c'mon. Let's get you cleaned up then I wanna see what you look like in this outfit."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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artikgato · 2 months

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Being a rhythm gamer is suffering

So let me tell you about my Quest To Just Play Some Fucking Guitar Hero. This is an ongoing tale of suffering and betrayal. There is no honor here. There certainly isn't any Guitar Heroing happening.

Last October I went to Anime Weekend Atlanta, which used to be located in the Cobb Galleria across from the Cumberland Mall. Unbeknownst to me, the mall had installed an entire arcade some time post pandemic. And in that arcade there was a Guitar Hero cab. "Huh," I found myself thinking, "I haven't played Guitar Hero in years. How nostalgic. I wonder if I'm still any good at it." So I payed two entire American dollars to play a song (in my defense I thought it would be at least a couple of songs, not just one). And I discovered to my great surprise that I am in fact still fairly decent at Guitar Hero. The song ended and I realized I had payed $2 to play Muse's Supermassive Black Hole once, decently, and I felt kind of ripped off.

But then I spent the whole weekend, and subsequent weeks, itching to play Guitar Hero again. I did a little bit of research and discovered that I could either purchase a plastic guitar controller peripheral and a copy of the game for one of the sytems I still own... or I could download a free fanmade game called Clone Hero and try to find one of the many guitar controllers capable of connecting to PC via dongle, USB or bluetooth.

A few months later I found myself in a thrift shop staring down a guitar. It was one of the Wii Rock Band guitars, and according to the internet I had a roughly 50/50 shot at it actually connecting to my PC with no problems. It was only like $12 so I bought it. Of course I got it home and no luck connecting. More research. That particular model of Wiitar has a dongle that you can use to connect it to the Wii and/or PC via bluetooth. There are a few different auctions on Ebay for the dongle in question. I checked and rechecked the listing to be almost certain that I was bidding on the correct model of dongle. I win the bid, with shipping the dongle has cost me more than double the cost of the guitar. This is fine, I think. I still have a Wii, so maybe I can pick up some of the Wii Guitar Hero or Rock Band games as well. I eagerly await the arrival of the dongle.

The dongle arrives, I put batteries back in the Wiitar, I connect the dongle to my PC. I try to connect the Wiitar to the dongle. Nothing. More research. Apparently this just happens sometimes, nothing to be done about it. I throw my hands up in frustration and give up on the idea of getting to actually play Guitar Hero.

A couple months pass. I am at Southeast Game Exchange. I scour the vending area for working guitars and find none that are 100% the type that connect automatically to PC via bluetooth. I give up again, frustrated but accepting of my fate.

And then I find a sealed copy of Dance Dance Revolution Supernova for the PS2 that includes the dance mat. And let me tell you, I loooooove DDR and I've had 0 luck finding a working dance mat, too. So of course I buy that shit. My PS2 works! I still have the older DDR games too! What a great find, I can't wait to play DDR at home again!

After the show I'm stewing on my inability to find a goddamn guitar controller to play Guitar Hero or Clone Hero. I obviously still have a working PS2 which I just bought a dance mat for. I look on Ebay to see if someone is selling one of the PS2 Guitar Hero controllers and happen to find someone selling a used copy of Guitar Hero 2 with the guitar included! Lucky! The seller even gives me a discount! Finally, I can play Guitar Hero! I hit buy with no remorse and eagerly await the arrival of the guitar.

I finally get the guitar in the mail. I eagerly open the box up, take out the guitar controller, plug it in to my still functioning, very recently tested PS2 slim. I put the Guitar Hero 2 disc in my PS2. It boots up, how nostalgic! I still have save data from when I played this game all the way back in college! Oh hey, this game is the reason I still have Monkey Wrench by the Foo Fighters in my frequently played playlists! I select the song on medium difficulty and start playing. I've been having a terrible week, so I really needed this. I stumble a bit at first, but by the chorus I've got the hang of-

The game freezes.

Okay, uh. I try to go back to the main menu. Nothing. I reset the PS2. Is it the game? It's got a couple of scratches, but otherwise the disc is fine.

The disc cannot be read.

Huh. Am I about to leave a bad review on Ebay? I mean, the guitar and the game both worked until they didn't, right?

I try a different disc. Same thing, cannot be read. Well, that one has some scratches too. What about the sealed copy of DDR Supernova? I open it up, no scratches, pristine. I put it in the PS2. Nothing.

Some frantic Googling suggests that the laser might be dying. I try a PS1 game, same thing. It's definitely the laser. Well, that sucks. Fortunately, the internet assures me, this is an easy fix! I can get a replacement laser from Ebay for under $20, I just have to wait for it to be shipped from China. Oh, and I'll need a soldering iron. And I'll need to completely take the PS2 apart.

Yeah, no. So I search for places nearby that I might be able to mail the PS2 to in order to get it repaired, and wow, what luck! There is one such place that is only a 2.5 hour drive away from me! And their website reassures me that it's such an easy fix that it should only take about 30 minutes, 2 hours at most! At this point I am feeling like a 5 hour round trip to get my beloved PS2 back in working order so that I can play some fucking Guitar Hero is worth it. If I stay in my apartment for any longer I'm going to scream.

I should have called ahead, in hindsight.

So I get the car, which is it's own ordeal. I get on the road. I like longish drives, so really 5 hours in the car isn't so bad. The place also sells a lot of used games and stuff, so surely I can find something interesting there to make it worth my while. And there's a used CD shop nearby too. This is going to be a fun day trip.

I get there and they tell me the repair will take about two months.

Well, I've got no choice, so I leave the PS2 with them. And feeling like I need to get something out of a 5 hour day trip, I browse their wares. They just so happen to have a used PS2 slim model for sale. "Works perfectly, just has some paint damage!" it claims. I ask them if they'd be willing to give me any amount of store credit for the PS2 I brought in, even knowing the laser needs to be replaced. They cut me a deal. I ask them, repeatedly, if they are sure the PS2 works and the only problem is the paint damage. They reassure me that it works fine, the discount is because it has the paint damage and comes with no cords or controllers. I decide that I really just want to play some fucking Guitar Hero some time in the next two months, so I do the trade and I leave the shop with the other PS2.

(And then on the way home I drive through an actual monsoon and my car battery dies at a rest stop, forcing me to wait on roadside assistance to jump the battery, but that is unrelated to this tale.)

Today I unwrapped the replacement PS2. I plug it in, I put the Guitar Hero 2 disc in, I turn it on.

It won't. Fucking. Read. Discs.

I just want to play some Fucking Guitar Hero! And now I've got that brand new dance mat and so many copies of DDR that I also cannot play because NOTHING IS BACKWARDS COMPATIBLE WITH PLAYSTATION 2 GAMES. I call the shop and try to leave a polite voice mail, but after about 30 seconds I get cut off. I call the shop back and leave a much less polite voice mail. And now we wait, because of course a shop run by gamers doesn't open until 12 noon. And it's not like I can even drive back up there (not that I want to) because my car is in the shop getting the battery replaced.

B͉̤̘͙̖̳̙͋̽ͣ̏ͫE̟͚͖͕ͪ̉͆̽Ị̮͕͆̏̾̓N̹̭̾͂̈͑̚G͔̠̮̮͎ ͨĀ̰̼͕̟̭̯̺ ̪̳͕̘͓͙͇̓ͧͩ́R̼̱̯̤̬̊̄̈́ͨ̆̇͂H̰͓͈̭̲̄̆ͪ͌͐Ȳ̝̖̩̯̤̳Ț̺̳̼H̟̫͎͙ͬ̈̾̈͌ͮM̞ͪ̓̓͆͌ ̳ͣG̽̂̐̆A̯͈͉̭̪M͕͕͈̰̬̼̝ͥ͂Ë͉̮͇́̍̂͑͗Ṟ͈̭͖̪̥ͧͭ ̦̍ͨ͆ͬͦ̈̚I̦ͭͤS͉̝̞͍̞͙͑̀̌̊̌̈́ͅ ͍͖Sͮ͗ͨͨ̓ͩU̜̬̪̯F̳̐̿͛F̦ͦͣͬ͆̏ͧE͍͙̫͔̞͗Ŕ͔̮͌ͯͩ͋̈́̚ͅI̦͔̭̠͒N̼̥ͣͅG͚̹̳͕̮̮͈̍̓̎ͧ

#arti writes #misadventures #i can't do this any more #i'm at my limit

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3rddimension · 2 years

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Ok here I go anon!

From the Defy-owned era of Smosh (2016-2018) I'd recommend looking up the playlists on yt of the different shows of the pit squad since they're in every vid: Day Jobs Series, Squad Vlogs and Show w/ no name (the ones they're in together)

ALL Smosh pit videos in that era are basically Court, Shayne, Liv, Keith and Noah so anything tagged 'squad vlogs' like board games vids, field trips, spin the bottle vids, thrift shop vids and mailtime vids all have sh*urtney moments. Def search for them and binge any one of them.

Any winter games or summer games series are a fun binge and they usually have the two of them interacting.

As for specific videos that are favs of mine from the older ones:

Twitter shocking challenge 1

Twitter shocking challenge 2 (just hilarious and c has said several times that this is her fav smosh vid)

Blow up doll charades (very entertaining i love the pit squad my babies)

Egg roulette challenge w/ D*mien H*as and Sh*yne T*pp (Damien's first appearance w the smosh pit squad and he's adorable)

Dirty Toilet Trouble (again one of damien's first vids on smosh after shayne brought him in and he's so quick witted and effortlessly charming)

Illuminati confirmed (squad vlogs)

We have dirty minds (squad vlogs)

Sick and twisted charades (very good vid, c is insanely good at charades and s is def impressed)

Insane pie eating challenge with smosh

Beauty and the Beast Hot Pepper Karaoke (absolutely hilarious everyone is hot and struggling)

Who knows me best challenge

Which Hogwarts house are we in?

Specific 'recent' vids I don't think many people have seen:

The most annoying kid sketches (their characters Jordan Schwartz and Rachel Mathis crush on each other)

Dude Perfect Parody

C's yt channel vids - 'I vlog the smosh fam during summer camp' , 'I film the smosh fam literally going insane from the heat' , 'I found an old box of memories in my closet' and obv her mythicon vlog w s

C*urtney Miller and Sh*yne Topp talk Smosh and Stuff (c got invited s to a movie premiere because she didn't wanna go alone and they got awkwardly interviewed)

House Games Challenge with Smosh (a challenge video with Noah and Ian teaming up against Sh*urtney but it was hosted on some unknown channel, might be privated now idk I'll check if I have it saved)

Tntl no props (from 2021 but watch it if you haven't, he makes her laugh so easily)

C's podcast appearance on En(baby) podcast, she talks about how s is the first person who truly saw her for who she is and she was comfortable opening up to about her gender identity (video version not available, only audio)

C and S appearance on Trevor's podcast for MythiCon (video and audio versions available)

And finally ofc Dept of Weird Sounds on yt for compilations and them you can look up specific videos to see the full thing if you want. Have fun!

HOLY SMOKE. This is the list right there. For anyone want to catchup on everything!

I think they privated House Games Challenge video now since I tried to find awhile ago.

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meltycatdolls · 2 years

Photo

been meaning to snap some pics and post about this for a bit - here’s how i display my american girl dolls!

i used a combination of new & retired pieces from AG, small shelves and stands from bullseye’s playground at target, and other misc. bits from thrift stores and etsy to create this setup. i usually keep valerie on my desk b/c i take her out with me the most, so i don’t like having to constantly wrangle her in and out of the setup (and inevitably knock a bunch of stuff over). here’s links to some pieces of note!

and finally, some rambling about places i like to look for AG display stuff! (under the cut and not anything anyone hasn’t said before- i am NOT an authority lmao)

- Dollar tree! Check the craft section, kitchen section, homegoods section, and seasonal section frequently for cool stuff. my favorite recent find are fake plants, mini wood crates, and the fairy lights that are lining the bottom and back of my display! they often have hair accessories that are great for AG too, like cute clips, tiny barrettes, and colorful mini rubber bands- which are great for doll hair AND making your doll hold things, like how my re-wigged saige doll Poppy is holding the coffee carrier!

- Thrift stores! Look outside the toy section for fun stuff to decorate your room. The homewares section will often have random tiny cute things, like the wicker tray I have the cream and sugar on. My rule of thumb is to look for things with different textures other than plastic to add touches of realism to my display. i have a few little crocheted pieces mixed into the display too - one on the couch, one on top of licorice’s cat tower, and one as a rug under my addy doll Maribelle’s feet - that you can often find mixed in with potholders, coasters, and washcloths.

- Bullseye’s Playground at Target! EVERYONE has that one tiny kitchen cart from there and it’s great. All the mini shelving in my AG room came from there, and they frequently have plant stands or little risers that make great tables and accents. five below sometimes has the same type of thing, but not as frequently.

- Our Generation sets! I don’t like the big plastic pieces as much, but some of their tiny accessories like school supplies and food are often on par with contemporary AG quality. And they’re often on sale at Target!

FB groups/marketplace! I got my samantha doll Valerie’s stand AND a doll dressform from FB marketplace for free, picked up maryellen’s couch for $40, and julie’s complete lunchbox for $5! almost all my old pleasant company finds are from FB buy/sell group purges, and i find that this is consistently the cheapest place to find AG treasure. people are also often willing to haggle, so i sometimes ask to make a bundle or see if the seller is willing to take a few dollars less. (but like, don’t lowball people, you know?)

happy hunting!

#american girl #american girl doll #agblr #dollblr #american girl rooms #miniatures #dollhouse #pleasant company #doll photography #doll photoshoot #agig

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softlittleheartsandsparkles · 3 years

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My Favourite toy channels!

I wanted to make a list of toy youtubers I like that talk about toys. Some of these people will be in depth reviews, people who do more 'gossip/deep dives', and talk about the latest news in toys. Obviously this won't be everyone on youtube who does toy reviews. However these are the channels I watch and like the most or have started to watch. Anyways, lets start! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ https://www.youtube.com/c/MyFroggyStufftheFroggys <;- I love this channel because Toya (the mom mostly) She does a lot of diys, she also owns a blog where you can get printables and make your own stuff. BUT ALSO SHE DOES THIS CHANNEL WITH HER ADULT DAUGHTER! which is so cool. I do believe the both of them work on the channel together and do printables together, but i'm not 100% sure. https://www.youtube.com/c/artemisfox77 <- I like their channel cause it sorta feels like toy gossip xD but they mostly review like latest toys and what they feel like is a hit or miss for them. They highlight there favs and sorta like there opinion in flops! https://www.youtube.com/c/clawdeena9 <- Similar to the last one, sorta feels like 'gossip' but i like it. There videos are a bit longer, buuuut they also go into like deep dives for things like monster high, ever after high, rainbow high etc. They talk a lot about the community of toy collections and stuff. I also like there videos because they do a lot of work, You can tell there passionate about toys. So they do lots of research! They also cosplay a lot in videos, and have the most amazing make up ever! https://www.youtube.com/c/MyWorldMom <- I like this channel because the lady who owns it is also in her 50s. Shes'a longer then the people in the community I other wise will share. However, I really like her because she doesn't seen toy collecting as a shameful thing. she's really proud of it. She mostly does toy unboxings and gives you her opinion on the product. https://www.youtube.com/c/TheDollCircle <- I like this one as well. she's really sweet. I do find sometimes her reviews are just that little too 'positive'. (I think this can be hard if she's reviewing brand new toys with high prices. like over $25) She's very bubbly and happy! BUT she does something I don't see too often which is she takes us, the viewers out for toy hunts!. So she goes out to the thrift stores and other places and looks for vintage toys or just less common toys. Also walmart and other bigbox stores. ^-^ https://www.youtube.com/c/NexJen <- I really like nexjen, she canadian. So when she talks about prices on stuff it might seem a bit steep. But that's the canadian dollar! I really like Nexjen because she's does really in depth product reviews. She doesn't sugar coat stuff, if she's disappointed, she tells us. She started off her channel more as a mom looking at the latest toys and getting fluster with how many toy 'youtubers' sorta gloss over flaws and go 'omg this is so great!' (Meanwhile the character could have like.. paint flicks all over her body and it's not on purpose. i.e. doll wasn't designed to be like that.) I really like her through too because she points out sensory concerns. So things like kinetic sand which was really popular in toys for a bit. Which does bug some people with sensory issues, (my self included!) She also tries to describe toys for the visually impaired. So she's very detailed. https://www.youtube.com/c/minitoyadventures/videos <- I will admit, I only recently found this channel. But I really like it. He seems to just open up toys and review them as he opens them. I can't really tell if he's more of the bubbly "positive" toy channels. But this channel is really nice from what I've seen! Its also new! >w< https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCR208LMbjRaWe_hhcPqZMCA/videos <- This is another channel I only recently found. But I really like here stuff too. They also do toy hunts, from what I see. (Meaning they vlog taking us to stores like doll circle does) There channel is really good, much like NexJen I'd say its a 'buyer's guide'. But its really nice.

#scribbles #kidcore #toddlercore #babycore #kawaiicore #kawaii

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stronghours · 3 years

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SUNSHINE IN THE SKY REPRISE

And it came to pass, a few weeks after she and Jules made a bad decision on his thrifted futon, that they met again during 4th of July merrymaking.

Lux toddled in grey lake water among Ava, Claire, and Archie (Celeste down and out with summer flu). Lux couldn’t swim, a fact disclosed in private to Ava, which Ava hadn’t kept to herself, and the group formed a stooped, anxious ring around her doggy-paddling. She was forced, among the smell of hot dogs in the safe green grass hundreds of yards beyond and the ominous cloud cover above, to make sure only her ass whomped her protectors’ knees when the waves tried to boil her body up and away. She’d made a mistake, and her only wardrobe protection beyond her suit itself and her spandex underthing was a hastily added solid color sarong, which while dry didn’t match, and while wet, just looked lousy and modest. But she couldn’t be parted with it and had made up a past bout of minor skin cancer, a pin-mole insidiously located on her protected inner thigh, the paranoia of which haunted her still. Even Ava dropped her chin for the C-word.

Now she suggested Lux float on her back and allow her perception of the water to form fingers in the magic slot located on her lower back, and soon she’d be floating like crazy among the wacky kids and her hot workmates and her boss and all their invisible pubes. A wave slapped dirty fingers up Lux’s nose.

“It’s kind of like learning a language,” Archie contributed. “Got to learn it when you’re young. Looks like your parents fucking doomed you.”

“My pap pap slam-dunked me in our above-ground when I was five,” said Claire, who floated tummy-down in frog position by exerting no effort Lux could observe. “I bobbed right back up, but like, what if I hadn’t?”

Lux, six feet tall, decided to use it to her advantage and planted her knees in the sandbar. She could just about do it and keep her eyes and forehead in periscope position.

“Reuben and I are thinking of installing an above-ground,” said Ava, and seeing Lux shrink, rose to her feet and splashed water across her dewy collarbone. Lux pushed every single one of them out of her mind and stared between the chops out into the open sea to make-believe Michigan somewhere on the other side. A rhythmic slap approached from the left and the white bow of a lifeguard’s canoe sailed past their collected heads.

“Hey now,” scolded the familiar voice behind the sunglasses, “only three hot bitches are allowed in the water at a time. Think of the community.”

Ava sloshed around at the familiarity, but everybody else had already noticed it was, absurdly, Jules, and sent up a bunch of soggy greetings, all except Lux who rose into a semi-crouch in the drifting seabed out of surprise, and Ava, who let them all perform verbal recognition on her behalf and only spared a nod.

Jules looked very high school, very lanky on the bobbing bench, with the oars braced under his tanned arms and his cute red tank top cinched under his fanny pack. He rode the up-down of the surf the same way he did most things, with enough bored grace to suggest he’d learned quite enough and had more interesting things to do. Lux had recently learned this conceit of his could be bypassed, and she was glad he kept the sunglasses on when he looked her over.

“What’s up Cathy,” he said, with the same Sophomore carelessness, and she plunged her head under an oncoming wave, the pressure preferable to the dawning knowledge that now, he had information he could disclose, and he’d had it for weeks.

She rose again, squinting. She couldn’t tell if he had caught on.

“What?” he asked. “What did I do?”

“You got another job, Jules?” Ava surged forward, displaced Lux. “Roscoe doesn’t give you enough to do, on top of commissions?”

“Give me another commission and you’ll find out.” He drew the left oar’s pole hard under his titty to keep the nose of the canoe from slicing into their crescent. The mechanism bucked like a horse and the wind snatched the ugly white hat off his head and toward an oblivion of preteens due north. Claire yelped and threw herself into the water, rippled away to go fetch it. “You ever been in the cellar underneath Rawhide, Ava? That’s like, thrice-darkness. I was gonna kill myself.”

“I’ve never been in a situation that required me to be in the cellar underneath Rawhide.” Prim Ava glanced pityingly at Lux, who allowed wave after wave to pummel her head in her effort to stay low. “Poor baby. She can’t swim.”

“Throw her off the pier,” Jules suggested.

“It worked for Claire’s pap pap,” Archie said, and braced an annoying hand on the back of Lux’s neck. “Sorry babe, looks like you’re going down.”

Lux threw herself underwater before Archie could push her into the drink. Beneath the top swell she had enough time to touch her palms to the sand and try to dig her hands where she’d braced her knees, but she was blind, and the divots were washed away and the grains were swept off and replaced swept off and replaced, and she panicked when the water tugged the sarong’s knot. She resurfaced from the green and grey, coughing and yanking the weedy fabric around her legs. Ava, shining and petite against the sky, so securely tucked to smoothness, had finished with Jules herself and was high stepping back to shore.

“…I’m just saying, you should definitely try it out –” Archie had spoken in the interim. Jules was nodding. He’d shoved the sunglasses up and over his curly head and while his gaze was trained forward to take in the gamboling bathers, Lux could feel him keeping her in the corner of his eye.

She remembered being in good if overenergetic spirits. She recalled a hot yellow sun. She wore her lavender halter with the powder-blue culottes, her hair freshly hennaed from the night before and trustily bunned. She traveled from a three-hour duo with Ava regarding some mind-numbing bouts of predicament ropework that left her guiltily bored of the client and his ballerina snobbishness, but pleased with her improving knots, and with the fact she could at least trick Ava into thinking she was a viable rope top. She’d exited the bus prematurely and entered the sidewalk throng to burn through her constipated spirits, past a raucous patio partition of a dippy sport’s bar and collided with Jules himself, exiting.

It was like striking a human-size grasshopper. He recoiled, elbows up, and almost upset a busboy’s tray. She reared at his excess, ready to dive into the full indulgence of her insult. In the past year after the Annelise Petro incident she’d only seen him at a distance. Their last words, exchanged in close quarters within Jules’s car more than twelve months ago, had not been civil. He was much tanner than she remembered of him in previous summers. He’d filled out in the chest and shoulders. For a second, she could glimpse he’d gained some weird physical vitality – but as she observed, the color drained from his face. His shoulders slumped. He looked sick as a dog. She’d thought he was drunk.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and steered his head away from her. “Do not,” she ordered, “Do not fucking puke on me.”

He pulled himself straight but didn’t dislodge from her grip. “Don’t say anything,” he hissed, dirt-sober, and before she could make him clarify, a middle-aged couple loomed over his shoulders. The woman, a full six inches shorter than both Lux and Jules (it was just then Lux realized she and Jules were precisely the same height) sparkled nervously, trussed in Cubs blues.

“Oh Jules,” she said, “Who’s this?”

She was blond and ferrety, but in the man, Lux could see a sour and fleshy shadow of Jules’s own face and bearing. He looked at her with the same stern contemplation Jules had leveled on her in the past, and Jules presently, dead in the eyes, curled in on himself like a shrimp.

She’d inexplicably exited her rancorous ditch and stumbled over Jules in the no-man’s land of Blood Relatives. She wanted to, against all rational thought, shove him behind her back and put her arms out.

Instead, she reached a hand to the man (dad? Oh boy, what fun) and chirped, “Hi, I’m Catherine!”

And to the woman (mother? God in heaven), “don’t we just all love Jules!”

The woman shriveled with feeling that hardly looked like relief. The man gravely shook Lux’s hand, and she was pleased with his grip’s condescending pressure. Her body moved far ahead of her brain. She could see herself at distance, popping one toe behind her planted heel, one hip cocked, tits pushed out, but no further than her glowing smile. “And how do you two know each other,” the man said, said, explicitly did not ask. Neither man nor woman introduced themselves.

Jules, white-lipped, opened his mouth but Lux flowed over him. “2007,” she answered, “Leidermeister Playhouse, down in, uh, are you from around here? No? Well, Tinley-ish. Way down there. Spring musical. I was on playbill. And Jules was doing costumes for Pippin.”

For the first time, Jules treated her to the sweet sight of his smug, sick face struck totally dumb.

“Theater!” The woman bubbled. She put her hand on her companion’s meaty forearm, placating.

But the man was not letting her go without a fight. “Theater,” he said. “And what part did you play.”

She treated him to her glowing smile first (cracking, a little). If Jules had learned his own abysmal manners from these creeps, then he’d somehow made improvements on his own time.

“The Mother,” she improvised. “Of course.”

“Stepmother,” Jules piped up, at last.

It was all yadda-yadda to Lux, but the man finally checked the neon dial of his watch, gripped the woman by the elbow, said they would have to start taking pains for a cab if they wanted to catch the game in time. “Sure,” Jules said, though his permission hadn’t been asked, his advice unsought. “You’re not far away.”

“You call her and say you saw us, sir,” the man said. “She’ll expect it.”

Jules was too busy accepting limp patty-pats from the woman, who shot Lux a tragic grin before she scampered up the sidewalk, followed by the broad back of her presumed husband. No proper hug, no I-Love-You, no masculine head smacks or back whacks or take-care-of-yourself-you-hear pronouncements. They just walked away. Her own parents would be appalled.

The life was coming back to Jules’s face, but he was still doubled over, as if from a cramp. “Jiminy Christmas,” he uttered, and she wanted, in a surge, nothing more than to pinch his cheeks and trap his head in her armpit and noogie him to death and bust his fluff. Instead, she assisted him away from the crowd, and before long they strolled down a quiet residential street, arm in arm. She decided to give him five whole minutes to recover from the encounter, but he did it in two.

“Ledermeister,” he said to her, appalled.

“Leider,” she corrected.

“You nutty bitch,” he dared, but there was no gas behind it.

“It’s like you think I’m some kind of pervert or something,” she said, and before she could help it, she started to nag. “What did you think I was going to say? Jules makes rubber sex suits with built-in condoms? I saw him in street clothes in a high-etiquette dungeon fingering my boss’s twenty-one-year-old latex bottom?” She felt him up a little in her haste, accidentally, and he squeaked. “Who actually has something to lose here?” She asked. “Who’s the fucking dominatrix here?”

“You don’t like me,” Jules said, coolly. “I had no idea what you would say.”

He sounded terribly calm. The sidewalk was dappled in shadows of maple leaves and, boxed in by reasonable townhouses on both sides, she was inclined to stay calm as well, and in her calm, she found a strange truth.

“I like you just fine,” she said.

“Oh.”

She liked him just fine. She liked him more than she liked Ava.

They walked.

“God, it’s fucking hot,” she said. It would be more comfortable not to have their arms around the other, but she didn’t unlatch.

“I moved to this neighborhood a couple weeks ago,” he said. “We’re not too far. I’ve got a window unit.”

A window unit meant he’d accumulated an actual window; a net gain from what she remembered of the dismal basement unit she’d ducked inside three times over their three year acquaintance, along with a damp cement strip notating the kitchen and two hoary pipes jutting six inches from the ceiling where tawny water dripped into provided buckets and Jules himself, barefoot, crisscross applesauce on a carpet square stringing the hundredth of ten-thousand waiting bugle beads with one or two local drag queens, staring open mouthed at a small, shit television propped up on a pile of clean laundry encased in a garbage bag, and onscreen a shoulder-padded daytime soap actress made lines like “there’s nothing to worry about Blake – do you really think I’d expose the Nazi treasure to outsiders?”

“Yeah, let’s,” she said.

He’d found a squat, orangey building with collapsed flower beds out front and only the faintest smell of weed in the halls. She noted, vain, that he opened the doors for her and motioned her up the stairs first and it wasn’t until she’d reached the top landing of the third floor, and he was sorting out keys that she felt the pluck of that old sexy situation, which was Going Inside a Boy’s Apartment, something she hadn’t done since college, and even at that time, something that usually happened under the close watch of protective friends. She couldn’t eye him either, to see which way his intentions were shifting – he was already eying her – but then he let her inside and the feeling was wiped out by absurd, maternal relief.

“Oh, thank God,” she blurted out. “This is so much better.”

The place still smelled like paint and floor wax, and she walked about at her leisure, touching the walls, and flapping her arms, knowing she wasn’t going to crash into a spiderweb or trod on mummified centipedes. The only furniture yet was a pulled-out futon (he was a bedmaker, who knew) and the walls had been built out to delineate a kitchen. She lifted the back of her shirt to the air conditioner.

“I thought you were an idiot for accepting that place, before,” she told him, regarding the old basement. “Or you’d picked it to antagonize people on purpose.”

“Give me a break! I was broke. I was nineteen.”

He shed one flip-flop on his way to the kitchen. She watched it prone on the floor while she calculated.

“No, no,” she reminded him. “When we first met, Ava said you were twenty. We were in a bar. She made you duck under the table when the bouncer made rounds. You were illegal.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, unevenly thwap-thwapping back to her. He handed her a beer. “I was here a whole year before you showed up. I came before you.”

He sat on the edge of the futon, and she considered that perspective as he scratched the back of his shin with his bare foot. He had long, narrow feet, and when he was looking at things that weren’t people looking back at him, his eyes tended to glaze over. He was looking at the blank wall.

“Hold up,” she said. “How old are you now?”

“Old enough for you to sit next to me,” he replied.

It didn’t mean anything, coming from him. She left her beer on the windowsill and sat next to him. He’d have to get a nicer bed at some point, she thought, bouncing up and down a little, and wondered if, all along, his manners and his living situation pissed her off so much not because, as she initially believed, they were representations of his obnoxious personality, but because she had been frightened that he was going to get hurt and clearly no one else around was going to warn him otherwise.

“You must have left your parents pretty quick,” she said.

“That was my aunt and uncle, just now.”

“Were they more fun when you were growing up?”

“My grandma raised me,” he said. “For eight years. Then we swapped.”

She unfastened her sandal straps and tried to dream up a guess about him that could possibly be correct, but she had the feeling if she said raised in a house? He’d go no, in Mr. Toad’s canary-colored caravan, and the woodland squirrels taught me how to sew, and I lost my virginity to Morlocks. She wondered if she was the first girl he’d ever brought up here. She wondered if his aunt and uncle already knew he was gay. She wondered if he was gay. And in her wonderings, she missed, at first, his growing impatience beside her. He touched her hand; she accidentally flipped her right sandal underneath the futon.

“Crap,” she said.

He rolled his eyes and slid to the floor, slipped between her legs, and with one cheek pressed to her thigh he rooted one armed underneath the springs and came out with the sandal, which he deliberately tossed several feet away. He came up on his knees, face lifted to hers, and she had to spread her own knees to accommodate him. His stern little expression was very cute, and she was warm with pleasant condescension, something sorely missing from her and Ava’s ropework that afternoon. She was tired of art, she decided, ignoring Jules’ cold hands creeping up the back her shirt, and she was tired of fantasy and she was sick of endurance feats physical and mental, and she was tired of her own cowardly communication, so much so the tiny bubble of unearned pride she felt for Jules’s ability to maneuver himself into the positions he required ballooned, out of control, into an old familiar cocoon where she couldn’t hurt him and he couldn’t hurt her.

“Nobody knows,” he told her, perhaps feeling it too. “But I can be a good boy.”

Jiminy Christmas, indeed. But he couldn’t have her for cheap, and he clawed her spine too confidently. She put her palm to his left cheek, let her thumbnail scrape over a pale divot where it looked like the nap of a paint scraper had teased out a pill of his flesh, years ago.

“Listen,” she asked, and squeezed his ribs with her knees. “If you had met me while I was with relatives, and I looked scared about it, what would you have done?”

His fixed gaze skittered to the side, over the wall, across the floor, and while he didn’t retreat, he only spoke up when his face reached a zenith of clumsy guilt. “I would have fucked around with you first,” he admitted. “Only a little.”

“I thought so,” she said, and smacked him a nasty one across the face.

With no furniture around, the crack resonated. Jules took it open-eyed. He didn’t whine or argue and only clenched his jaw a couple seconds after, when the real pain hit. He faced her again, glowing and pink, his left eye watering. She couldn’t help it. She grabbed his head and squeezed and clawed and palpated, yanked his lamby hair, perfect for yanking, and beat his butt with her heels. His head thrashed and his hands flapped around behind her back. She seized one and forced it down on the blanket and let the other undo her halter knot while she bridled him with her free thumb. His back molars rose on the edges in sharp ridges, and she whirled her wrist under his chin until she could see him swallow from the inside. The whites of his eyes showed.

“Good boy my ass,” she said, to herself, but he heard and appeared wounded. “Okay, okay,” she conceded. She wiped her thumb on his face, forgave him silently, and even her playful meanness disintegrated. He crawled over her lap and rubbed his red-hot face in her shoulder, gnawed painlessly on her clavicle. His shorts stuck out in front.

She knew a hundred ways of positioning and a hundred more roleplay scenarios he’d probably accept without suspecting she used them not to her pleasure, but to protect her modesty. She was sick of it all, hadn’t fucked or been fucked properly since she’d been his age, and was horny enough to maim. She took him again by the shorthairs along the nape of his toasted neck, and when he sighed down her back, she pressed his hand to her groin.

“Feel,” she ordered.

He felt dopily, paused, and resumed. Squeezed. Offered no comment.

“Tell me what that is,” she said.

He had delicate ways when he had enough patience to reveal them. Without asking permission he slipped a hand down her waistband, far between her legs, far too quickly for her to chase him off, and by the time she felt him properly, he held her so the head nestled in the heel of his hand, wedged against the meat of his thumb. He felt her up against the underside vein of his silky wrist.

“That’s the cock that’s gonna fuck me,” he answered, correctly.

She had condoms in her purse. He had Vaseline in a bric-a-brac moving tub besides the futon. He rolled onto his narrow tummy, and she flipped him onto his back again so fast he nearly rolled off the mattress. She wished, as she watched him raise a knee and finger himself, that she’d brought her toolkit with her from the club where she kept her nitrile gloves and her fancy salves and her more mobile toys. Jules laid himself out on the futon like somebody else would on a beach, languid and comfortable and she pressed one of his nipples with impatience. She suspected he’d be chatty, but he didn’t speak at all during the preliminaries. He had more body hair than she would have expected, but not enough to grab, and a severe bathing suit tan line that reminded her of Ava’s jabs about the minor gossip between him and Roscoe. She wondered if some queen paid him to lay out on a patio somewhere, if that kind of arrangement still happened, and she wondered if he could let go of the sniping and the attitude long enough to show that hypothetical crowd what he was showing her now – that he was, actually, a very good boy.

When he was ready for her, the very good boy reached out with his arms (and made gimme-gimme clutches with his hands). She obligingly sank on top of him, then, quicker than she intended, into him, guided by his hooked shin and a decisive hand on her ass. She clawed his scalp and arched, involuntarily driving herself forward. A telltale sensation like he’d dumped a bucket of his own blood over her head soaked her from head to toe, and for a hot second she thought it was too late – then he jerked one her nipples until she shrieked and came back to him, stunned.

You’ve got more than that in you, she heard him say, through the haze in her brain, and in between two blinks he swapped out the sadist faunlet for, once again, being her very good boy, and he undid her bun with one hand and guided her head so he could kiss her mouth and calm her down. She saw from above his legs lock around the small of her back. She was shocked she could get hard enough to effectively penetrate, a shock that blissfully vaporized as she rocked inside him.

His own cock, which they mutually ignored, was restrained by her soft stomach. Her breasts ached, pressed against his chest, and she had to break free from his clasp to prop herself on her forearms. He followed her, licked her lips until she gave up and sank back down. The tip of his nose was cold against her cheek. She could feel his lashes and the curve of his eyeball roam around in the socket. He was a ferocious and intent kisser, not nearly so languid now, and every goosebump outside his skin and strand of muscle beneath rose to her, encased her in his prickles. His focus made her quite aware of a separation between her hips (melted, as far as she was concerned) and her brain, electric-bright now, entertaining Jules by turns as a barbed, poisonous plant, as a nuzzling, brainless creature, as a mean bottom slut who clawed her bottom and held her hair in a knot in his fist, who maybe needed to be exercised as a handler would a spirited pony, in order to nurture his kindness, improve his manners, and keep his juices fresh – and she giggled involuntarily, a tight muscle in her back relaxed, and she came inside a boy for the first time.

She either made an unacceptable noise, or a had been making noises all along. A downstairs neighbor ratta-tat-tatted their ceiling, Jules’s floor. Practical as a fillet knife, Jules pushed her out of his ass, swung one leg wide, slammed his heel rudely against the floorboards, uttered “fuck off, asshole” then rolled back to her again and rubbed his face between her breasts. She cuddled him a couple tender seconds, which he tolerated, before scuttling backward and regarding her from a lucid distance as she disposed the condom.

“Come back here, she said. He looked like a praying mantis.

First, he stuck his legs off the thin mattress and with one judicious sweep of his torso, seemed to crack every bone in his body. Then he crawled over and allowed himself to be held.

“Oh,” she noticed. “You didn’t come.” His dick was still hard, and when he laid his back flat against her hip, it bobbed due west of his belly button.

“Relax, it doesn’t always happen for me.”

She ignored him and let her ego propel her forward. He reclined on her like she was a chaise and breathed through his nose.

“You know what Ava calls you?” She asked, jerking him onward and upward, hopefully.

“I’m a community opportunist,” he answered smugly. “Plus, Roscoe’s houseboy.”

Two out of two, verbatim. She drew her nails up and down his stomach and he twitched, fought against curling up. “Houseboy,” he repeated, hissed. “The last houseboy passed away in the fucking nineties. They peeled him down with the wallpaper.” She felt, through his spine, how he tried and failed to work up a temper. “Then they tatted his chalk outline above some burlesque artist’s John Willie tramp stamp. Mistress Avalon sure is concerned with faggot business.”

“Your boys don’t make you come?” She asked, a hill over him now, and above arguing. He sparred solely with himself.

“What boys? These guys – big guys –”

She went back for more Vaseline, not great for this kind of thing, but she was getting the idea Jules had a sensible nursery spirit and rarely abused himself. He didn’t appear to know much about his body and froze like a striker frame when she rolled the tip of him in her palm for more than fifteen seconds.

“– They think your asshole is your only sex organ,” he continued. “They hate themselves for loving twinks. And then they give you the reach around and if you aren’t wet like pussy then oh-h-h-h my god, it’s like the fucking sky is falling –”

She sat up, and his feet paddled the blanket to stay in contact. He reached behind her and grabbed her hair again but didn’t pull. He turned his face into her neck, and he shook all over.

“Being a slut is really hard,” he said, woefully, failing to hide, for a millisecond, the ghost of what might have been a sweet kid. Or it was her imagination. Either way, she made him come all over himself. It didn’t seem to register to him until the drops hit his chest. He looked down at his sad, wet dick and then back up at her, so testily she laughed in his face. He was smudged pink all over from her lipstick, and she pinched his springy cheeks.

“I’m a cradle-robber,” she declared.

“Okay, Methuselah,” he said, unimpressed, and darted away into the dirty ivory bathroom before she could slap his ass.

He recovered rapidly. In the sunny room things took a slumber party turn. He fetched her abandoned beer, dug out makeup wipes he inexplicably possessed, and repaired the damage to her makeup. He berated her when she couldn’t stop giggling.

“I was kind of wondering…” he began.

He paused. Sex had made him tactful.

“Go on,” she allowed.

“I was wondering if I’d ever figure out why you bothered being a dominatrix.” He used the point of his little finger to clear wet black scuzz from the corner of her eye. She hardly felt it. “Ava’s got her thing about being top dog. Claire’s a sadist. And somebody needs to get around to neutering Archie before he starts spraying the furniture. You, a mystery.”

“You think about me!” She preened and wiggled.

“You go on.”

“I like,” she confided, “to strap muscle hunks to the pommel horse and tickle them until they scream.”

“Gee whiz.”

“I like straitjackets, but I don’t like rope,” she continued. “And I like floggers, but not single-tail whips. And I like human furniture, but not human ashtrays.”

“The Marquis de Lux over here.”

He’d reached around and started French-braiding her hair. She put her ear to his chest and found his mousey heart.

“My mom and dad were angels,” she continued. “And my sisters were angels and my aunts and uncles and my grandparents. They were angels from the start. So was I. I liked it. Doctors like it too. When a kid is angelic, and very, very, very, very good, and says the right things, and rolls over. They give you what you need.” She thought that over. “They decide to give you what you need,” she clarified. “I was rolling over constantly. I didn’t know how to stop. It freaked me out.”

Jules’s heart answered wug-wug-wug. He sat in her lap and tried to get her braid to stay fixed in a twist. “See, I’m the opposite,” he said. “I’m a huge cunt, but I’m always looking for an excuse to be nice.”

Her hair unwound down her back. He clamped her bobby pins between his teeth, to deliberately make the job harder, then, looking down in their laps, spit them on the floor. And as quickly as she decided she needed to find her clothes and depart, having revealed too much, she stayed the entire night.

On the lifeguard pavilions, the green flags were lowered, and yellow flags were handed up.

“Archie,” said Jules, from the safety of the canoe, “Head on back to dry land. No! no,” he called when Archie took Lux’s elbow. “Cathy and I need to talk really quick.”

“It’s not safe,” Archie said.

“I’m Red Cross certified,” Jules said, arms outspread up the oars as far as they could go. “I’m a beautiful heroine, waiting to happen. Also, I’m in fucking charge.”

“Go away, Archie,” Lux agreed, and Archie slopped to the shore, his broad back damp red in the sun’s undergrowth. Dark clouds approached from the west.

“Actually, that’s my boss.” Jules pointed to the sand straight ahead, where a bronzed ingenue, her thigh muscles sticking out like bread loaves, appeared to be watching the duo intently.

“You’ll get in trouble,” Lux cautioned.

“She wants to ride me hard and put me away wet, I think I can get away with it. I feel like you must have,” he added, pointedly. “She’s nineteen.”

It was hard to glare when wet, and it was hard to talk with Jules high and dry. Lux was clammy and clingy, and she couldn’t understand why he sniped at her. Then he crouched down, chest to knees, under pretext of scraping the oars straight down his gunwales and snapped, with pure, guileless annoyance: “Why are you pissed off? I’m the one who should be mad.”

That was too much to bear. “Jules –”

“I showed you my hole and said call me.” He straightened, the little snot, sincerity evaporated. “And you didn’t call me. Now I feel cheap.”

“Jules,” she said, sticking to her own path. “They don’t know.”

“Of course, they don’t know!” He said, clueless, if technically correct. “I didn’t think you’d spread it around to that crowd.”

“Shut up, Jules,” she tried again, and when his mouth opened automatically, she really blew. “Shut the fuck up!”

He shut the fuck up.

“They don’t know. They don’t know.”

She refused to say anymore. She wasn’t in the mood to roll over. Funny, how fucking a guy in the ass could spackle over a few of the gaping holes in her dignity. Patiently, she watched Jules rock to-and-fro, his face oscillating between his premature certainty and the vanishing tail of what she was trying to explain. Then he exclaimed, “huh!” and raised his face to the heavens.

Whistles sounded north and south, and one of his canoe companions raced twenty yards past, churning the creaming waves to reach the point to disembark. Jules ignored it all.

“Oh.” He started, blank-faced. “There’s bossola.”

He waved to the girl on the beach, who was really putting her back into her whistle. “Jesus, baby,” he said just as abruptly to Lux, who had been forced to retreat a few feet to find higher ground. “Now I’m really starting to worry.”

It was either of their guesses, as to what situation he was talking about. Lux wasn’t sure herself, and doubted he knew. His confusion reminded her less of him now, more of him the morning after, when she’d woken up, found him sitting bolt upright, staring at the walls of his clean, sunny studio. He’d turned to her bleary face, and with no confidence whatsoever, asked, Is it really so much better?

“You want to climb up?” He asked now. “I’ll tell boss you have a cramp.”

“No, I can make it by myself.” She strolled backwards, ass out of the water, and twisted the sarong in front.

“I told Roscoe I fucked a girl for the first time,” he called to her, his eyes cast demurely downward. “You should have seen the sweat roll down his back.”

“I’ll call you,” she promised.

“Yeah, you better,” he advised, and shielded his face against the bursting spray. “Before someone else does. Ladies love the canoe.”

One perky heave-ho, and he displaced bow and stern, fixed his little craft perpendicular to the beach, and cast off toward the pier.

On the beach, Archie and Claire scuttled in the sand, packing their bags, and shaking out their towels. Claire held Jules’s rogue, soaked hat. “I was going to swim back over, but she yanked me out,” she explained, and pointed out Jules’s bossola, who had, watching Lux emerge from the dirty waters, eyed her face, eyed her cleavage, and continued stalking down the shore. She had an ass that needed to be seen to be believed. Lux hoped Jules wouldn’t tease her too much. She might call him sooner, to demand that exclusively. Possibilities, vistas, scenarios, she thought of all these and wrapped her towel around her waist, and she faced the dreary city skyline and she dreamed, and the full force of her imagination asserted itself.

“I’ll give it to him when I see him next.”

Domme Lux took property of the hat.

Ava, ever watchful, caressed their folded umbrella. “I thought you and Jules didn’t get along,” she said. Deliberately did not ask. Lux, in that moment, didn’t care. It wasn’t her job to teach Ava manners.

“I like him just fine,” she said.

#SAFEWORLD #intimacies; ambiguities; a twunk in a boat #beautiful friendships have been sprung for less #isn't particularly relevant but this takes place in 2009

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leelee10898 · 5 years

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Mittens

Here is my submission for the choices 12 days of fictmas!! Hosted by ME lol. I initially had something else prepared, however this kind of popped in my head and wouldn't go away. I picked the song Mittens by Carly Rae Jensen. This isn't a popular song at all, most people probably have never heard of it... but I love it.

Im going to apologize now, read more is not working for mobile for me.. and my laptop is mia.. i have tagged the post long post.

Ellie sloshed through the wet snow covered sidewalk, the air crisp and bitter. She pulled her scarf tighter around her face, trying to keep the sting of the wind at bay. It was only a two block walk home from the diner she worked at night, but the frigid temperatures were a bitch. She stuffed her hands back in her coat, trying to keep her hands from freezing solid.

She rounded the corner, her building in sight. Finally she let out a sigh of relief. It was Christmas eve, and the diner had been busy all day. As she climbed the stairs to her 3rd floor loft she could hear the sounds of Christmas music blaring from the down stairs neighbors, followed by the loud laughter that filled the halls. It would be a long night, that she was sure of.

Ellie loved Christmas time, usually. It was her mother's favorite holiday, her most cherished memories Were those of her parents Decorating the tree, Laughing and singing Christmas Carols, while drinking hot chocolate and spending time together…. just the three of them. This year however was different for her all together, she was alone, completely and totally alone.

It had been five months since she last seen Colt. Five months since she had been home, And 3 months since the falling out with her dad. Riya and Darius were still together, and at the same school about 2 hours away from Langston. She loved when they would visit, but she would be lying if their constant PDA made her heart twinge. She missed Colt so much. The last thing he told her was he knew she would be great, If he could only see her now.

She turned the key, pushing her shoulder into it with a gentle nudge to open, flicked the lights on and tossed the keys on to the table next to the door. She had been in her dorm for two months before something had to give, she hated her roommate. The last straw was when she locked her out the entire night while she had some random guy in the room, who stole her pillows and blankets along with her bras. What kind of weirdo does that?

After a long hot shower, She changed into a t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy Christmas pjs pants. She tied her hair back and began to string lights on the little tree she picked up on the roadside stand by the diner. The loud echoing of the party going on below her becoming overwhelming, something to drown out the noise .

"Alexa. Play my christmas playlist."

Home tonight

Rest my headIn my single childhood bed

Close my eyes

Count to three

Wish that you were here with me

She hummed along with the tune playing as she adorned the tree with the miscellaneous Ornaments she picked up at the thrift shop in town. She still attended classes, just enough to keep her scholarship in tact. Because there were no other dorms available, the school helped with some housing costs. she found a small loft outside of campus, Saving her tips and using her savings she was able to furnish and decorate her little space. It wasn't much but it was hers, and she was proud of it.

Still, the nights were lonely. She often thought about Colt, where he was, what he was doing. Did he think of her at all?

Last year when my hands were cold

You were always there to hold

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

Something to get me through

The loneliness of Christmas eve

Ifell for you, like crazy

And I can't get thoughts of you, from me

The speaker blasted the music, she liked this song. Her fingers grazed a little glass star in the box. It made her think of her dad, god she missed him so much. They had made some progress in recent weeks, but he took an assignment that required him to travel, he would have to miss Christmas.

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

She stood back giving the tree a look over, absentmindedly resting her hand on her stomach, the other on her hip. A smile played on her lips its really coming together. But the smile quickly faded as she spotted the couple walking from the building, holding hands the woman cuddling into her boyfriend's side.

By my table I survive

Fix the makeup from my eyes

Fake a smile so they will see

Wish that you were here with me

Last year when my hands were cold

You were always there to hold

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

She missed that…

***********

Colt climbed off his bike, a shiver rippling through him. He liked the warm, not the cold. He had been a rolling stone the past five months, going wherever his two wheel took him. He tried to keep his mind busy, planning job after job. The pay out was great, but something was missing. How could he become the king of L.A without his Queen? The problem was his Queen was far away being great. The more time away from her, the more he realized he didn't need to be king of LA, he could be whatever she needed him to be.

Looking up at the brick building a car drove past splashing a dirty, wet, cold mixture of slush all over him. Great! Fuck you asshole! He shouted as he shook his hands. Definitely not how he wanted his night to go. It was Christmas Eve, his father was gone, his mother vacationing on some tropical island with her new husband. He was alone, completely alone. He let out a frustrated sigh as he made his way towards the building. He was nervous about this task, but the pay out was worth it.

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

Ellie sat on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. The tv was on, but she wasn't paying it any mind.

Shine your name

Through the snow storm, baby

You can break me

To the bone, ohI was wrong

You were wrong to make me

Feel like I was all alone,

She dabbed her eyes, the song hitting a little close to home. Damn him for leaving her all alone, with no way to get in touch with him. He left her alone, when she needed him the most.

Walking through my old home town

No one else but me around

Make an angel in the snow

Pray that I can let you go

*******

Colt stood in front of the door, he never felt nervous before a job, but this time the stakes were high and if he were being totally honest, this wasn't exactly a job. He mustered up every ounce of courage he could as he lifted his hand to the door and gave it a quick rapp. His heart in his throat, he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. This was it, no turning back now.

********

The party had started to die down, the commotion seeming to spill into the halls. She heard a knock at the door. God not another drunk idiot at the wrong apartment again. She grunted, rising from the couch and walking across the room. Slowly opening the door.

fell for you, like crazy

And I can't get thoughts of you, from me

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair

Your warmest pair

Ellie stood there stunned. She expected a drunk idiot, what she got was completely different. She blinked repeatedly, a pair of deep brown eyes staring back at her.

"Hi El." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"C, colt? Wha. What are you, how did you find. What are you doing here?" She stammered.

"I um, I needed to see you. Can I. Maybe come in?"

Ellie nodded, stepping aside and letting him in. Closing the door behind her.

"Ellie I. I.missed you. I'm sorry, I Was an idiot. I shouldn't have let you go. I love you. "

"I'm pregnant."

"You're.. Excuse me?" He stood there gobsmacked.

"Five months. I don't expect anything from you. I can do this.."

"Ellie.."

"On my own. I can raise him alone. I just didn't know how to."

"Ellie!"

"Reach you. I just-"

She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. His hands dropping from her cheeks, resting on her hips. She threw her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss. She had felt so alone, so sad, so lost, but not anymore. He was here, he was real and her Christmas wish came true.

"Ellie, I know I haven't been around. I'm an asshole who thought you were better off. But I Was wrong, I missed you so so much. I promise to be there for you." He dropped his hands to her stomach, her small bump sticking out. "and our baby. I promise to take care of you both, to love you both more than I ever thought capable. And I promise to.never leave you again."

Ellie met his misty eyed gaze, tears began to fall freely. "Forever?"

"Forever, you are my forever Ellie." He smirked as she jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He was there, and he was finally home and neither would be alone again.

See, I fell for you like crazy

And and I can't get thoughts of you, from me

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

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#choices 12 days of fictmas #12 days of ficmas #colt x ellie #long post

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conradashwood · 4 years

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is that [JONATHAN GROFF]? no, that’s just [CONRAD DASHWOOD]. [HE/HIM] is [THIRTY] years old and is an [OWNER OF WHAT THE BOOK?]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [FIFTEEN YEARS]. on a good day, they’re [LOGICAL & ARTICULATE]. but watch out! they can also be [CAUTIOUS & GRACELESS]. [MAYBE BY LEWIS CAPALDI] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill!

Ah, hieee, friends. i’m LA, I've been looking for a rp to join for a little bit now, so I’m v excited to be here w my bb Conrad ( he goes by Dash, as well ). I've got some wc’s for him, a few simpler ones and an ex connect that i think would be fun to have around for Conrad, i’ll list a few below and just lmk if you’re interested. also up for anything i might not have listed / brain storming etc.

FULL NAME: Conrad Jeremy Dashwood NAMES HE GOES BY: Conrad & Dash DOB | AGE: February 02, 1990 | 30 EDUCATION: Ph. D in English & Literary Arts & Associates in Marine Sciences OCCUPATION: Owner of What The Book? SEXUALITY: Bisexual

notable character traits + articulate, disciplined, faithful, logical, thorough, studious, understanding, warm - graceless ( clumsy ), self-critical, anxious, cautious, passive

hobbies & interests learning, reading & doing research, writing, shopping ( @ antique and thrift shops, mostly ), swimming & all sorts of water sports, volunteering, aquatic animals, sudoku & crossword puzzles

> moved to Springhill with his parents when he was 15 - his father got a job offer as the department head of physics at Rutgers uni. Being from a small town originally, his parents opted to live in Springhill. Conrad has been here since despite when he left to nyc for college where he went to nyu for his PhD in English & Literary Arts. He’s currently in the process of taking online courses for Marine Sciences, another one of his bigger interests.

> loves to learn ; reading has been and is one of his biggest hobbies growing up. He also loves to write, he’s got a couple of rough drafts for books that he’s too self-conscious of to even attempt to get published.

> used to work as an English professor as the community college in town for a couple of years, but left when he had the opportunity to buy What the Book? from the original owner - whom he’d known since he was a teen - it seemed like the right move for himself, so he plans on making the best out of it. He’s been the owner for only a year and a half now.

> he tends to be v cautious & anxious when it comes to letting someone else in. Comes off a bit on the shy side when he’s around people he doesn’t know, is also a total clutz. Luck doesn’t ever seem to be on his side, but he tries to make the most of the cards he’s dealt.

> is a ball of sunshine, usually. He’s optimistic & tries to look on the bright side of most situations he might find himself in, he also tends to be logical.

> hobbies include a lot of water sports - he grew up on the water. Now he gets his fix whenever he might hit one of the beaches off of NYC. He has a fascination of aquatic animals. Another hobby of his is doing research, as well as shopping & interior decorating. He’s always changing up his interior decor depending on what he might find. His style tends to be a bit basic - button ups over t-shirts, jeans or pants, he tends to be more creative with his surroundings.

> while he does tend to be cautious around others & about those he lets in his life, he also manages to wear his heart on his sleeve.

> he’s honestly a sweetheart & genuine person, but like most people, he can be an asshole when provoked only for Conrad and his passive nature, it might take a bit more to get him to that point depending on the situation.

> he’d been bicurious for a very long time & only acted on his desires a couple of years ago, coming to the realization & acceptance that he’s bisexual.

> he’s been hurt & he’s been the one doing the hurting. He broke up with his most recent girlfriend ( probs about 3 years back now ) because of his confusion w his sexuality which caused a lot of confusion for himself and issues in their relationship. He was cheated on in his more recent relationship with a man which really knocked his confidence & ability to trust others down quite a few pegs.

C O N N E C T I O N S

honestly anything & everything, but to strike up some inspo, I’ve got a little list of some that I’d absolutely love for him:

FRIENDS & a couple of BEST friends ex girlfriend ( would probably take a couple, but his more recent ex gf is def wanted ) ex boyfriend ( someone that’s capable of cheatingggg oof, there’d still be feelings on conrad’s end of things ) neighbors ( he lives in an apartment, so there can be a few ) people that tend to make appearances at What the Book? college buddies / old college roommates someone that conrad’s crushing on, unrequited or not ( preferably a male that manages to bring out conrad’s bashfulness ) an older crush of his ( male and / or female ) tinder dates employees at What the Book? ex coworkers

#springhillintro #like & expect a dm from little ole' meeeee #( ❛ conrad ❜ | musings )

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cardandpixel · 4 years

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9 Board Game YouTubers I Follow & Why (plus a few others)

In the literal dim and distant past when I started boardgaming (honestly, the biggest threat was tallow wax on your board), the internet was still accessed by whatever IP address you could remember off the top of your head (there’s no place like 127.0.0.1 as they sayI) - and the only TikTok was the clock ticking, waiting for half of Louise Nurding’s left leg to download only to realise it was Anne Widdecombe and you’d hit the wrong link on a BB. Boardgames had some quiet and shady corners of the internet, in those same Bulletin Boards, there was one for HeroQuest and Space Crusade when they came out. But sadly, if you wanted to see a boardgame being played or learn the rules, you either had to go round to your friend Tim’s house where he had a new chits-for-days wargame going, or sit down and actually read the rulebook yourself. As a result, I bought some interesting games in my time, including a game called Operation Overlord - a mighty chit-tastic WW2 N African campaign monster that I bought in desperation from the Games Workshop in Manchester on the first morning that it opened in 1979 (?) as we were so far back in the queue that there wasn’t a space marine to be had for miles. But now, we have a plethora of kindly folk available on our blistering shiny Windows NT 486sx machines to inform and delight us in full 8-bit glory. Everything from reviews, buying guides, rules tutorials and even painting & crafting guides, we can be bathing in just about whatever aspect of board or wargaming we so desire in an effort to stave off the clattering realisation that it’s been over 3 months since we spent any quality time with another breathing soul outside our houses. The question gets frequently asked on boardgame FaceAche forums “What YouTube channels are worth my time and why?” so in an effort to throw my own towel into that controversial ring, here’s my pick of probably 9ish, maybe more by the end, but let’s start with 9 in no particular order..... 1) 3 MINUTE BOARDGAMES

One of the first board games ‘er across the table (TM) and I bought together was a copy of Gloom from a little games and comic shop halfway round the world in Hamilton NZ, Mark 1 Comics. As we were achingly close to moving to NZ a few years ago, we’ve kept up with many aspects of what might have been our life over there, so it was a delight to discover Jarrod (and now Stephanie) on YouTube, a friendly and familiar accent reviewing board games. But it’s not just the NZ vibe that I love, Jarrod does a great job of cutting thru the hyperbole and bloat often associated with trying to keep YouTube vids ‘long for the algorithm’ (ugh) and just gives very pragmatic reasons for a game either joining or leaving his collection. He has a great approach, and it’s nice to see him finally on camera instead of the disembodied voice. Great reviewer, and Stephanie is utterly hilarious. 2) THE BROTHERS MURPH

Mike & Nick are two of the most engaging brothers on YouTube let alone just in the boardgaming community. Their series on thrift shop finds has dredged up some hilarious and often tragic specimens from the grand days of Palitoy, MB and Parker Games. They are also masters at ‘speed reviewing’ often piling reviews of 50 or 60 games into the same number of minutes. I think I favour the ‘don’t outstay your welcome’ approach to YouTube in general, and the Brothers Murph are at great ease with this philosophy and yet they take on simple party games thru to the heaviest euros with the same distillation equipment, and yet their reviews are never trivial or throw away. We had the chance to chat to Nick at Airecon this year and he was a lovely guy, slightly blown away by the fact that people liked his channel. He’s also an awesome artist too.

3) ACTUALOL

There are many reviewers on the web who have cost me a fair amount of money, the worst being Zee Garcia, however, a close second is Jon Purkiss aka Actualol. Jon has a terrifying gift for finding games, and especially ridiculously affordable games, that I buy on spec and then end up absolutely loving. Jon has a light and breezy style which is instantly engaging - I also really want his comfy chair (surely in exchange for a nice review on here Jon???). His videos are tidy and concise and yet still convey a deep enthusiasm and joy for games. His reviews very clearly portray what the setting of the game is and what you’ll be doing, without getting embroilled in the rules. He always has great footage of the game on the table (please reviewers - look at the ratio of your face to the game you’re talking about - less than 10% game and i’m walkin’) and often favours the less pricey end of the market which suits me fine. Brilliant games I love thanks to Jon include: Second Chance, Magic Maze and Ninja Academy

4) OUR FAMILY PLAYS GAMES

There’s not much to be said about Mik & Starla Fitch that cannot be gained from watching a mere 3-4 minutes of their channel. For sheer exuberance aimed squarely at a love for bringing families together via our glorious hobby, you cannot top these guys. If you are ever - EVER - feeling slightly lacklustre about gaming or losing your mojo for whatever reason - heck if you are just feeling slightly down, treat yourself to 10 minutes in the company of these two excellent human beings. Their reviews and playthru’s have all the humanity you need in a game and after five minutes you are thinking “Is the US too far to go just for a gaming evening?” We’d both utterly love to sit across the table from these lovely people and just play, and I can’t say that about every reviewer, I’ll be honest. Their reviews are often centred around unloved classics (watch their vid dedicated to why they love Catan as an example - you’ll be clicking Buy Now before your know it) and also some great quirky unknowns that I’m trying to hunt down even now. They’ve just had a brilliant couple of boosts from both a spot of Good Morning America recently, and becoming reviewers for the mighty Dice Tower. I’m immensely grateful for a tweet by Rodney Smith for pointing me in their direction, my social media is a much brighter place with the Fitch family in it.

5) RAHDO RUNS THROUGH

“Heeeeey Everybody”. One of the first board game reviewers I ever caught on YouTube was the inimitable Richard Ham aka Rahdo. And I’m so glad I did. I would genuinely never sit down and try and learn a game from one of Rahdo’s playthrus, they are what I imagine being in a wind tunnel full of 50 tonnes of feathers is like. BUT and this is crucial - if I want an idea of what a game is going to feel like to play, there is no finer deliverer of the remote game experience than Mr Richard Ham. His unique ability to explain how a game is going to work, turn by turn; the decisions you will make; the things you’ll have to consider; the short and long term goals; are all brilliantly covered in one of Rahdo’s videos. His ability to make different choices for his ‘ghost partner’ Jen (who does exist in real life, we have bought jewelry off her, she’s lovely) also adds a real dynamism to the games, showcasing the flexibility in a design for different play strategies. Rahdo tends towards 2 player games and usually at the heavier end of the scale, but if there’s a game you are thinking of buying, check Mr Ham out first!

6) WATCH IT PLAYED

It’s often been said that Canadians are some of the politest folk on the planet, but when it comes to ranking Canadians, well, I’m sure they’d be too humble to rank each other so I’ll have to. Rodney Smith is the loveliest man in the world. There, end of article. But it’s true. We’ve been watching Rodney since we first got confused about the rules for Mice & Mystics (which we still got wrong but that wasn’t Rodney’s fault) and his ever chirpy, ever positive approach to his rules rundowns is utterly remarkable and frankly, enviable. And it’s his attention to detail and clarity for explaining rules that have rightly made Rodney one of the most important resources in the gaming hobby. If you have ever struggled over a rulebook and haven’t raced to Watch It Played, I will guarantee you will have spent far longer on that rulebook and lost way more hair than you ever needed to. We had the great honour of playing Rajas of the Ganges with Rodney at Airecon in 2019, and I mugged up on the rules sooo much. Regular imbibers of this rag will know my sloth for reading rulebooks is legendary but fortunately ‘er across the table (TM) loves them. But, for the 3 days running up to our trip to Harrogate, I did nothing but read that rulebook - this was THE Rodney Smith, you can’t get a rule wrong with Rodney. But of course, nerves kicked in and I could barely remember the rules of Snap, but the nicest man in the world could not have been nicer. Really, quantum mechanics has proved it. He was just the same man off the computer telly. Funny, engaging, warm and happy to chat as well as play (which I was also really nervous about doing!), if you don’t watch Rodney, are you really internetting?

7) TABLETOP MINIONS

“Pachow” From boardgames to wargames. As well as my slight addiction to cardboard, my other opiate overlord is 28mm plastic miniatures. Specifically those involved in tabletop skirmish games like Malifaux, 7TV, Fallout Wasteland Warfare, GuildBall and a smattering of others. Though recently more focused on the frankly insane amount of content being released by Games Workshop, Tabletop Minions is presented by the splendid Uncle Atom. (In fact, I identify his content so much as Uncle Atom’s stuff that I honestly had to double check the name of the channel for this article!). My plastic habit uncle (sounds so wrong, but so true) has possibly the gentlest delivery of anyone on the internet. It’s not so much content, as therapy. I know the net is awash with AMSR channels at the mo, but if you don’t want to listen to some overmonetized southern californian with some bubble wrap and a large capsule condenser mic, just hop over to TTM and listen to the Uncle for 5 minutes. He’s like a soothing bubble bath of content about painting figures, philosophy of the hobby, general art & design principles, and great life advice. He also wears a fez.

8) GIRL PAINTING

“Hello Tchoobies!” I painted my first 28mm figure when i was about 12ish - it was, ironically, a space marine of some sort - the old clunky Ral Partha ones. It looked terrible, but each model got a bit better till I stopped for some reason a few years later. When I got into Malifaux a few years ago (ie decades, several of them, later), I knew I was going to have to get back into painting; heaps of grey plastic does not a skirmish game make. (Little did I know I would have to revisit my microscopy days either when assembling damn Bayou Gremlins!) Two channels were recommended to me, the Esoteric Order of Gamers (more later) and Girl Painting. EOG put me on the path to believing I could paint again, but Alexandra at Girl Painting actually made me believe I could learn to do it well. GP’s approach to painting figures, terrain and vehicles is based on solid art theory. Her explanation of colour relationships and the colour wheel is something I can quote to this day. All of the techniques that I lean on so heavily in day to day painting both for table and display I learnt from Girl Painting. Correct use of washes, wet blending, non-metallic metals, shading, drybrushing, highlighting, model reading, all of it from studying intently, often with a brush actually in my hand while watching the channel. I cannot recommend GP enough if you want to put paint to plastic. Whatever your ability, you will learn something from this hidden gem of a channel.

9) ESOTERIC ORDER OF GAMERS

Another dang fine antipodean and another slightly unusual channel. I have a terrible, terrible memory when it comes to rules. In our early days, we also had a a lot of games with seemingly very over-bloated rulebooks - FFG games basically. I suddenly realised what I wanted was to lift the lid of a box and find in the lid, a summary of the important stuff i needed to remember about the game. Apparently I was not the only one. In 2013 a chap known as Universal Head started publishing an amazing series of rules summaries which condensed down some of the bloatiest rulesbooks down to often one or 2 pages of A4. It was a (pardon the pun) gamechanger for me. I can’t count the number of games in our collection that have a friendly sheet of A4 now as the first thing you see when you open the box. They are brilliant. And he’s still doing it to this day. I would argue that the more useful leg to his activities is the website rather than YouTube channel, but his channel does have the aforementioned brilliant figure painting tutorials, unboxing videos and some crafting stuff. The website is definitely the place for the rules summaries and also a fantastic resource for build-it-yourself foamcore box inserts. Though Folded Space have now made box inserts pretty affordable, there’s still no feeling like the satisfaction of building your own, and I would argue that some of EoG’s designs actually make more sense than some of the Folded Space ones anyway. AND THE OTHER ONES (Who probably don’t really need the exposure, but hey, only 11 people probably read this so......) Why aren’t these on the list above? Just because I wanted to highlight some of the more marginal channels above or more specialist rather than the pure reviewers. SHUT UP & SIT DOWN Possibly my favourite channel on YouTube, whose name sounds more like a menacing Yorkshire greeting than a boardgame channel. SU&SD seem to be a real Marmite issue on the board game communities. And I genuinely don’t understand it. Yes, their reviews are often really funny but honestly, if that’s all you take away then you are missing some amazingly detailed and thought provoking work. Quinns and crew’s reviews are some of the most measured and balanced reviews in the gameyverse. Their reasoning for the conclusions they come to are incredibly well thought through and often very surprising based on the tone of the rest of the review. They have steered me to some games I would never have looked twice at and steered me away from some very shiny games that I might have blown a lot of money on otherwise. Flagposting great alternatives is also a signature of their reviews, and that again has often lead me to some fantastic games. We don’t always agree (their recent review of 10 Oink Games was savage imho) but we always disagree for the right reasons. Again, I would argue their website is actually a better overall resource, especially their podcasts which are superb, but all their content is fantastic.

in a highly similar vein I would add NO PUN INCLUDED. Efka & Elaine produce some of the most thoughtful and intelligent boardgame review content today, and often for some of the deepest and most complex games. The joy of boardgaming is that it is highly subjective and there are lots of times when NPI like/dislike a game that I do/don’t, but they are engaging and warm enough as presenters to hit you with a gentle subtext that says “It’s ok - I know we like this game, we get that you don’t, it doesn’t make any of us bad people, just people y’know, have a sandwich with us” Efka criticising a game reminds me of when Dennis Healey once described an argument with Geoffrey Howe as being ‘savaged by a dead sheep’, though not in the cynical manner of the original. The criticism is loaded with that crucial dose of ‘hear me out’ that is sadly lacking in 90% of all other reviewers out there. Efka & Elaine are no GoggleBox reviewers, they are the real deal - they genuinely understand how games work and why. The sheer moral turmoil that Efka expressed over the cultural issues in Rising Sun was some of the most thoughtful YouTube content I have ever seen. I just wanted to do a little shout out to Johannes & Sunniva at BOARD GAMING RAMBLINGS - I don’t have as much to say as they are relatively new on my radar, but I have really enjoyed their content so far and find them to be like one of those adorable gaming couples that you might see every once in a while at your gaming group and have a blast with, and then not see for months and go “Awh - I really miss Johannes & Sunniva - where’d they go?” that feeling, you know the one. Adorable, with a hint of the esoteric. Also, a quick but important mention to the other titan of boardgame rules explanation that is Paul Grogan of GAMING RULES!. Like Rodney Smith, Paul is meticulous about rules explanation and is really clear and simple to follow, even for very heavy games, which Paul tends to do more of than Rodney, which is probably why I end up watching Paul slightly less, but certainly not for any less quality. Paul has such a reputation in the industry that he now works closely with many designers and publishers to help craft the best rulebooks around as a consultant. So that’s it - congrats for making it through folks. Didn’t think it was going to run this long, but turns out.... I quite like a lot of the YouTubers I watch - who knew? Until next time... happy gaming y’all.

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undecidedpersonality · 4 years

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June Book Haul

Hello everyone! I’m really getting into the mood of going full book blog mode here and Tumblr and that wouldn’t be complete without a monthly book haul.

All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

I bought this one specifically because of the recent adaptation made recently as a Netflix Original I believe (correct me if I’m wrong). I’ve always been a “read the book first” type of person and since this book was popular a couple of years ago I thought now would be the perfect time to pick it up. I honestly have no idea what the plot is, but I know people categorized it with Everything, Everything and The Sun is Also a Star so I’m expecting a sappy teen romance with a pretty heavy topic as their central problem.

Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephanie Perkins

I finished the second book in this trilogy (Lola and the Boy Next Door) in April and one of my readings goals for 2020 is to start completing series in closer succession to each other. This also goes along with my goal to have completed series on my shelves. I have the first two books, therefore I bought the third and last. I’ve always put off reading series because I hadn’t bought the other books or would buy the middle book at a thrift store and wouldn’t buy the first books because I was scared to spend money. That is changing this year so I can have completed series on my book shelf! I bought this and All The Bright Places from Half Price Books online.

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

Along the same lines as the last book, I had to buy the second to the ACOTAR series because I need to know what happens next (especially after I got some spoilers)! I am already so invested in this story line and the characters and I want to see how everyone switches up on Tamlin because I refuse to believe that is possible. Obviously this in general is a long time coming because this series has been popular for years now but although I am late, I am ready to be fully invested in this entire world. Even though it’s a hunker, I’m excited to get to it. Also to note: I bought this from BookShop which is a black owned bookstore (in NYC I believe)! I hope you all go out and support so black-owned [book] stores as well.

Lair of Dreams by Libba Bray

I took a trip to Dollar Tree with my mom to pick up bags for Father’s Day presents and as we were walking out with past the bookshelves that I forgot they had! I’ve gotten a few books from here before and each time they have titles I actually recognize. This time I got three books starting with this one! Sadly, this is the second book in this series and I have not read the first one, The Diviners, yet but this gives me all the more reason to buy it in the near future and finally read it! I heard about it quite a few years and ago and even though I know nothing about it I really wanted to read it.

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

The coolest thing about this one!!! Is that it is the deluxe edition and I had just been talking to my friend about how much she liked this book and was considering borrowing her copy. This edition is super pretty, it’s signed, and has a bunch of extra stuff added in. My sister read this one when I was like like 6th or 7th grade and really enjoyed it and I have been meaning to read it ever since then. I know that it takes place over three days (or a short amount of time), revolves around a group of friends, and is kind of mysterious or plot twisty??

City of Saints and Thieves by Natalie C. Anderson

I mostly have only seen the cover of this book around a lot but not much actual talk but I don’t shy away from a book even if I know nothing about the plot. I know I was intrigued by this book though because I believe the main character is black or African? If anything, not from America which is very fresh and exciting to have a setting and cast that is diverse which is way more than many YA novels can say for themselves. Therefore, I am excited to have it on my shelf.

***

I honestly did not expect to buy this many books this month. It’s a lot more than the last couple of months. I only expected on buying the first three because they were the only ones I planned on getting. Of course, finding unexpected [cheap] books is always welcomed.

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thriftthatisviolet · 5 years

Text

Words on *that* incident (Long read)

Ok, I think yall know what I want to speak about rn, but if you don't, its the Leclerc-Verstappen incident in the race.

Just incase you live in the UK or another place where the race is really late, here's a tldr; I think what Charles did was dangerous, BUT (oh boy, here it comes) I don't think that some of the hate he's getting is, mature, to put it best.

I've been on every form of social media where opinions are discussed, and I think that I have gathered enough evidence to fully confirm that some people don't know how to remain sensible on the internet.

It's strange, you know? The way the people act on the internet, knowing that these are real people "expressing their opinions", and also knowing that some (most, actually) of these people are GROWN ADULTS.

It seems like these people don't know what r e s p e c t, is! All sportsmen and women have respect for eachother, incuding F1 drivers. Each and every pair of Rivals and teammates have high respect for eachother.

You know, we wouldn't have had Senna V Prost if they hadn't had a bit of respect for eachother. If they didn't, then they'd probably hate going up against eachother. There wouldn't even be a rivalry! If they hadn't had respect for eachother, then I bet my 10 bags of Supreme cheese Doritos and 900+ litres of Mountain Dew that whenever Prost realised that Senna was on his rear wing, he wouldn't even bother fighting with him since he would think that there'd be another crash between them.

No, that's obviously not how it went down. We get all these fantastic, historical races to look back on for when we grow grey and old. And now, lots of fans have been hyping up the Max and Charles rivalry, a rivalry that a new generation can witness and tell to our 6 year old grand children.

But that can't happen if they don't have respect for one another. The whole point of a rivalry is to prove that you are better than then your rival. You obviously wouldn't want to prove yourself to a s*** driver, would you. So, obviously, if you want to prove that your a future F1 champion, you gotta label a talented and strong driver as your rival.

And how can you do that is you don't think that there good? Obviously, you would think that your better, and that's normal. But you'd obviously still think that your rival is a strong driver...no?

Now, like I said earlier, I've been on many sites where opinions are regularly shared like Youtube, Tumblr (of course!), Twitter, Insta, Reddit and countless blog and news sites. And on nearly every single one of them I find MULTIPLE comments berating and disrespecting many drivers. And they're more simmilar than you think.

Some include-

Calling Seb "Spintell"

Calling Lewis a "Crybaby" (yes I've seen that photoshop of him)

Labeling Max as- " Crashstappen"

Most recently, Hating on Charles for being the "Golden boy of Ferrari" (Lecry, Grosjean of the year, Glorified midfielder) (That last one's actually true..)

Gasly. Need I say more?

Teasing Stroll, a decent midfield driver, and calling him a "Un-talented pay driver", even when he is pretty good and that a lot of succesful and strong drivers are pay drivers.

And the list goes onnnn and onnnn-

Do you e v e r hear any of the drivers call eachother any of these? No, I dont think so. Remember Baku 2017? The Lewis and Seb incident? They might've been a bit mad at eachother then , but do you ever see them sending eachother death stares or flipping the bird at one and other when they (think) that the camera isn't looking at them? NO!

Another instance with Seb and our main chatting point, Charles, is Singapore and Russia. The press, F1 "fans" and journalist are chewing up a team issue, and bellowing out nonsense headlines that aren't even true. Why the hell would Helmut Marko and Christian Horner be warning Ferrari? They'd probably be rubbing their hands in sheer delight with what was happening.

Anyways, while the press spreads rumours about how Seb and Charles secretly loath each other, and how they silently wish that the other would just burn in hell (over exaggeration , both of them seem have common sense outside the car, and instead of having all those hateful thoughts, those two are gleefully answering fan questions, playing rugby, dorkily making some origami 'Kokoni' cranes and happily chatting to one another after a tough race for both of them. Doesn't sound like hate does it? If I put it correctly, it should sound like a word that I've been saying for a little bit now.

Going back to the topic at hand, I think it's utter bull crap to be calling some of the only 20 most talented, popular and fantastic drivers offensive nicknames, hating on them and DISRESPECTING them is not, at all, mature.

Max and Charles are definetley stars of the future, and they're handing out samples of a brand new chocolate bar called "Suprise mother heckers it's the new generation" to us for many races now. But I don't think that many people might be enjoying this brand new flavour of chocolate.

Anyways, I still think that Charles might need a penalty (not like it'll do anything, think he finished like 10 secs off Ricciardo, I think?) I don't really think many people picked up on it but Charles was shown the black and orange flag, I believe. But that's deffinetley not enough. He litteraly kept going after his front wing had been shattered to pieces, creating a safety hazard. It was a great drive from him after, but still, a very dangerous and avoidable start (still love him tho).

Max, did not deserve any what happened to him this race. Today was very unfortunate for him.

So, take this as a lesson boys and girls, men and woman, or any other genders. pLeaSe, for the love of the God you beleive in, be responsible on the net, share opinions lightly, respect those who respect eachother and remember-

You're not alone on here

Warm regards,

Thrift

#f1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #sebastian vettel #lewis hamilton #f1 rant #long reads #essay #kinda?

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tinsley-goldsworth · 5 years

Text

band-aids don’t fix bullet holes (chapter 2)

read chapter 2 on ao3 here!

Summary: and as it turns out, c.c. finds himself returning back to ricky again. It’s almost like everything was coming full circle

Wc: 3384

C.C. never thought that he would ever hear Ricky’s name again, much less at a crime scene as a suspect. He didn’t want to believe that Ricky would commit such a terrible crime; he simply refused to but of course, he couldn’t explain why to the secondary. Instead, he pretended he didn’t know anything about Ricky Goldsworth and asked the secondary about the evidence that led back to him.

Apparently, Ricky was some sort of off the charts serial killer and criminal mastermind and he had been staying in a hotel nearby over the past couple of nights. He was seen walking in the streets at 10 pm and had been walking in the direction of the apartment. Cameras didn’t catch him walking into the apartment but a janitor at the hotel gave a description of a stranger who had entered the building towards the end of 10 pm and that description matched people’s descriptions of Ricky. The evidence wasn’t solid but it was enough to work with.

The secondary was clearly eager to work on the case as she had been bursting with energy since C.C. arrived at the crime scene but C.C. didn’t want her to know that Ricky was part of his personal life, or rather was part of his personal life. C.C. felt like Ricky was too reckless, almost like he wanted to get caught. He knew his friend would never miss a single detail when planning anything and recalled that Ricky was always adept at picking up the smallest details in cases that officials sometimes missed. So, if Ricky’s purpose of murdering the person was to get caught, why did he do it? Did he expect to get caught and not get convicted?

C.C. promised the eager secondary that he would investigate the case and told her that he would look into it and contact her if he needed any further help. The forensics team was already taking photos and talking amongst themselves about how bizarre the death was as C.C. slipped away. He went home and tried not to think about Ricky as he fell asleep, knowing he would have to face the facts eventually.

When he woke up the next day, he was reminded by emails from the forensics team about the body and groaned, not wanting to confront the notion that Ricky could be a serial killer. He reluctantly searched databases and scoured the internet for specific information about Ricky but no news article or record could spare specific details. The descriptions of him were relatively specific, but not specific enough for one to immediately pick him out of a crowd of people.

Most people described him as a “smooth, cunning, and wicked criminal” but nobody explicitly stated what he had done or what exactly he was infamous for. It was sort of implied through the word spread that if you got into trouble with Ricky Goldsworth, you were in deep deep trouble. Ricky’s reputation led to the assumption that he would have been caught before by the law but C.C. couldn’t find anything about Ricky in the police database. It was almost as if Ricky had wiped himself out of existence and made himself an urban legend for people to speculate about.

Yet, if Ricky was as cunning and smooth as people described him to be, why would he be so reckless in his recent murder? C.C. thought he knew Ricky and thought he would be able to answer all these questions, but maybe all those years spent with Ricky didn’t matter now that he was a completely new person. C.C. knew that in order to find out about Ricky, not even just for the purpose of solving the case, he would have to consult a person he knew who would know about Ricky: Francesca Norris.

Francesca now ran a tiny, cozy thrift store in a local town about half an hour outside of where C.C. lived so it wasn’t too much of a hassle to pay his old friend a trip. He was surprised Francesca decided to run a thrift store as she had always been set to become a spy when she was younger. But, if Francesca’s maturation into adulthood followed a similarly drastic change as Ricky’s, maybe she decided that being a spy wasn’t the best job for her.

The moment C.C. pulled into the thrift store’s small parking lot, he saw an unfamiliar car. The car seemed out of place and too exquisite and expensive to be in such a bland, average neighborhood. Whoever owned the car was probably extremely rich and spent their money extravagantly. C.C. found it strange that such a wealthy person would visit a local thrift store and deducted that the person probably had other motives other than thrift shopping.

As C.C. gently pushed opened the thrift store’s door, he heard voice gently waft through the air and silently moved closer to the direction of the voices to hear them better. He recognized Francesca’s voice and heard another voice that was deeper, presumably a middle-aged man’s.

“What were you thinking? Were you trying to get caught? The police are onto you now! You’re so reckless. Don’t make me clean up your mess.” C.C. heard Francesca chide, a stern tone in her voice. He peeked through the shelves of random trinkets and saw her behind a counter. The person she was talking to had their back faced to C.C. so C.C. couldn’t see his face.

“I wanted to get caught so I can talk to him again. I miss him a lot. Don’t worry, if they find me, I’ll escape,” The man replied and his voice washed over C.C. like a wave of cold water. The voice was sharp and rough and even though it had changed, the voice still was familiar to C.C.’s ears.

“If you’re certain this is going to work, I guess it’s fine. Just don’t make me have to bust you out of jail again.” C.C. was taken aback at Francesca’s reply. Again? What was Francesca up to? Why was she helping him escape? Was running a thrift store just a cover story for her real job? And what did he do that would land him in jail? Why did Francesca lie about not knowing where he was when C.C. asked? As C.C. turned around a corner, he tried to be as quiet as possible but accidentally knocked a book off of the shelf. He reached for the book attempting to catch it before it hit the ground but he was too slow.

Ricky and Francesca turned their heads and saw C.C. in an aisle, a shocked looking crossing both of their faces. For a detective, C.C. was a little too clumsy at times. Francesca’s surprised expression morphed into one of light humor, “Didn’t you say you wanted to talk with him. well, you can say whatever you wanted to say now that he’s right in front of you.”

“C.C., what are you doing here?” Ricky asked casually, acting as if he wasn’t just talking about killing a person to get the detective’s attention. Over the many years that had passed since C.C. saw Ricky, not much changed. Ricky still had beautiful almond eyes with a mischievous glint and the only thing that changed was what he wore. As a teen, Ricky never saw a reason to dress fancy and he would’ve laughed at himself as an adult because now, Ricky was wearing an elegant black suit, as if he was attending a business meeting instead of talking with his friend at a local thrift store.

“I, uh, actually came here to ask Francesca about you,” C.C. managed to not stumble over his words as he walked up to Ricky, feeling extremely out of place. He knew that he shouldn’t be prioritizing his personal life over work but he really wanted to know how Ricky was doing before arresting him. “I guess I should probably arrest me but..?”

“You want to hear me out? Haven’t you ever heard of the saying 'curiosity killed the cat’?” Ricky raised an eyebrow, his lips curling up in a familiar smirk. C.C. missed his friend’s sarcastic humor and quips that eased the tension and laughed a bit at the remark. Francesca noted that this conversation probably wasn’t for her to hear and made some excuse to quickly go into the storage room to give the two friends some privacy.

“So, Ricky, why exactly did you have to kill a person to get my attention?” C.C. attempted to sound humorous but there was a tense undertone in his voice. He just couldn’t seem to think of a good reason why Ricky would go to such an extreme for him. Oh wait, Ricky was probably a serial killer now and probably enjoyed killing people.

“I mean, it wasn’t only to get your attention. That guy also owed me a ton of money and never paid me back, not that I need it,” Ricky added the last part hastily, obviously a little reluctant to talk about his motives now that C.C. slipped back into detective mode. He didn’t seem too worried about being questioned, and he wasn’t brandishing a knife so C.C. was asking the right questions.

“That’s what you’ve been doing? Going on killing sprees and making loads of cash while you’re at it?” C.C. questioned incredulously. He was definitely letting some emotion control his questions as he still couldn’t bring himself to believe that this person used to be his best friend. Maybe he should’ve seen it coming due to Ricky’s obsession with serial killers and murder mysteries as a child.

“Well, kind of. It’s hard to explain,” Ricky shrugged nonchalantly, obviously not bothered by C.C.’s surprise. Ricky could not have given a vaguer answer and there was no way that C.C. was going to accept vague comments.

“Then explain,” C.C. sounded a lot braver than he felt as he literally was giving an order to a criminal who was extremely dangerous. But then again, that criminal was his best friend so he felt like his chances of being murdered on the spot were slim. Ricky hesitated for a moment with an amused smirk on his face, reminding C.C. of how Ricky used to jokingly steal C.C.’s pencils and give that same smirk when C.C. asked for them.

Ricky must still trust C.C. because he then proceeded to explain what he had been up to in the past couple of years, seeming to ignore the fact that he was a detective who probably could call this a confession of all his crimes. According to Ricky, his mother, Lucy Goldsworth, had always been part of the criminal world and he was expected to join as well to carry on the Goldsworth legacy. After high school, Ricky didn’t go to college and instead, went straight into the criminal industry. Thanks to his mother, he quickly rose to fame and was able to establish a bunch of relations. This led to him becoming one of the greatest and most mysterious criminal masterminds in the entire world. Of course, with fame came money so now, Ricky was probably richer than the Queen of England.

“What about you? What’s been up with you?” Ricky maintained a very calm attitude and he leaned against the counter, offering a politely inquisitive look. C.C. wondered how Ricky was able to maintain a cool and collected act.

“Nothing as exciting. I just finished up college and became a detective. No surprise there,” C.C. chuckled. The absurdity of the situation was slowly becoming normal as C.C. decided to just accept this new development and go with the flow. His eyes met Ricky’s again and he almost could find the old Ricky in those stunning eyes. Ricky’s lips were still arranged in a smirk but it was softer now with a quality of affection in it. His posture was relaxed and loose and for a moment, C.C. forgot about their jobs and felt like they were just two old friends catching up.

“I missed you a lot. I didn’t really know how to contact you so I kind of just went with the standard,” Ricky mimicked stabbing somebody, implying that his standard was straight-up homicide. He still talked in a joking tone and C.C. couldn’t help but snicker at his sarcastic remark.

“I missed you too but this isn’t the ideal situation to meet in. In terms of my job, I’m disappointed in your behavior but as your friend, I can’t say I’m not flattered you went so far to get my attention,” C.C. remarked, still carrying the sarcastic tone of the conversation. Ricky grinned and suddenly the room seemed a thousand times brighter than it had been before. For a moment, Ricky and C.C. just stood across from each other with giant smiles on their faces.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ricky held out both his wrists, a confident gleam in his eyes. “You can arrest me. Don’t worry, I’ll find my way out.”

C.C. chuckled and clasped a pair of handcuffs over Ricky’s wrists. “That’s very reassuring.”

C.C.’s name was all over headlines the day after meeting Ricky and he received a lot of credit for catching such a notorious criminal. Ricky’s trial was a huge deal but somehow Ricky still seemed eerily calm at court. In fact, he even had a smile on his face during some part of the trial. Many newspapers dubbed Ricky as “a real-life Jim Moriarity” and even though he was famous before the trial, his fame really skyrocketed.

Within a week of being thrown in prison, Ricky managed to escape and murdered a couple of security guards on his way out of prison. To say the least, C.C. was surprised when Ricky showed up at his house two weeks after escaping, just enough time for the frenzy around him to die down. He had come home from another day at the office and had been feeling pretty tired after solving another case. When he walked into his kitchen, he saw Ricky sitting on his kitchen counter with his feet dangling and his hands lightly gripping the side of the counter.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be killing people or something?” C.C. asked, deciding not to question how Ricky broke into his house. If Ricky managed to keep his criminal record in the police database mostly clean after murdering countless people, then breaking into somebody’s house was probably a piece of cake for him.

“Well, I missed you and wanted to pay you a visit. Also, I can’t believe how boring your fridge is. There’s no fancy champagne,” Ricky pouted as he slid off the counter and walked over to C.C. Ricky didn’t seem to want anything in particular from C.C. so C.C. let himself relax a bit and trusted that Ricky really wanted to catch up. As C.C. made dinner, they talked a bit about life and made up for all those lost years. Starting from that day, every Wednesday evening, Ricky would always be in C.C.’s home waiting for him to come home from work. Ricky shared a minimal amount of information about his job but still kept some details to himself, leaving some room for C.C.’s imagination to fill.

C.C. thought that his feelings for Ricky would disappear but his emotions proved him wrong. He found that the fluttery feeling he felt around Ricky many years ago resurfaced and C.C. caught himself constantly staring at his friend and admiring his looks. He memorized the smell of Ricky’s ridiculously expensive cologne and could probably sketch the shape of Ricky’s lips by memory. C.C. constantly blushed whenever Ricky was within ten centimeters of his body and realized that his crush on Ricky was blown up into full-on infatuation.

One day, as they were talking during dinner, Ricky brought up a question that changed C.C.’s life. They had been talking about some dull topic when Ricky suddenly paused, his face lighting up as an idea crossed his mind. C.C. recognized this look and had a feeling that he was about to propose something wildly dangerous and risky. “Hey, are you going to do something about it?”

“Wh-what? What do you mean?” C.C. was so startled by the bluntness of this question that he almost dropped his fork. Ricky rolled his eyes dramatically and placed both elbows on the table, resting his chin on the heel of his palm.

“You’re not so subtle with the staring, you know? Anybody could tell that you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Ricky laughed as he watched C.C. blush furiously, clearly embarrassed to be called out.

“I’m not?” C.C. sounded so uncertain and caught off guard, causing himself to feel more embarrassed and causing Ricky to burst into more peals of laughter.

“It’s been twenty years since you started crushing on me and you still won’t admit it? I guess I have to take things into my own hands,” Before C.C. could protest any further, Ricky stood up and placed his hands on the back of C.C.’s head and brought their lips together in a kiss. C.C. was stunned for a second before he reciprocated, kissing Ricky back. This was the moment he had been anticipating ever since he was a young teen and he couldn’t believe this was happening. At the moment, C.C. just let his body run on autopilot but his mind was scattered, running a million miles a minute and creating a string of fragmented thoughts.

When Ricky finally pulled away, C.C. already missed the taste of his lips. Before Ricky could ask anything, C.C. blurted out, “You’re really short, how did you manage that?”

“You’re sitting down you dense loaf of bread,” Ricky laughed and the tension in the room collapsed back into the comfortable feeling of affection. C.C. and Ricky didn’t explicitly place labels on their relationship; they just gravitated towards each other. At some point, they began kissing and cuddling and calling each other endearing nicknames. Francesca had stopped by a couple of times and congratulated them for finally getting together after all those years.

After a couple of months of dating, C.C. had gotten over the cognitive dissonance caused by the fact that he was a detective dating a criminal and let himself enjoy Ricky’s presence. As much as C.C. loved Ricky, he was still very unpredictable at times, like the time he asked another question out of the blue. They were laying in bed, comfortably nestled next to each other when Ricky asked, “Would you be willing to run away with me?”

“Run away with you? To where?” C.C. asked, running his fingers lazily through Ricky’s messy hair. At this point, C.C. wasn’t as surprised at Ricky’s spontaneous questions as he was before.

“Someplace far from here. And quieter, with less traffic and fewer people,” Ricky mused, curling closer to C.C. and pressing a gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. “I’m bored of this place.”

“That sounds amazing but would I have to quit my job? And how will we pull this off?” C.C. questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him again. Ricky was the only person who could deal with C.C.’s constant questions and found his curiosity adorable.

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. As for your job, you don’t have to quit if you don’t want to. You could just say you’re taking a super long break. I’ll find us a place to stay and arrange everything,” Ricky assured C.C., pressing a feathery soft kiss on his collarbone.

“Sounds good to me,” C.C. replied, smiling as he kissed the top of Ricky’s head. He drifted off to sleep with the cozy feeling of warmth and love surrounding his body and C.C. had never been more content.

taglist: @hot-mess-writer

comment if you would like to be added to the taglist!

chapter three is out now!

#fics #bfu #bfucu #ricky goldsworth #tinsworth #c.c. tinsley #francesca norris #friends to lovers #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved cinematic universe #fanfiction #buzzfeed

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