#hey neely

[theangrypomeranian]

After her disastrous date with Jimmy Jr. in the eighth grade, Becky swore off Valentine's Day for good. But when a certain nerdy boy invites her over to watch Return of the King, she starts to wonder if she should reconsider... dedicated to the lovely @jimmyjrsmusoems <3

[midsummerknife]

but when you realize that the Lover house is just a succession of different colored sets from the 1967 movie the valley of the dolls and that the house is a 1960s dollhouse and historically what that all means for taylor to be locked away in secrecy with her lover because it’s unsafe for them to ever be noticed or perceived by the public, their own neighbors, their own family. the Lover house is a set for a tragedy and she might’ve burned it down but that doesn’t stop taylor from using a replica of the flowered casting couch in Sharon Tate’s living room set in her music video for lavender haze which also has the same carpeting and the same exact television… spoiler her character’s name is Jennifer North and she doesn’t survive the valley of the dolls.

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Latte Love | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When a new coffee shop opens up across the street from your bakery, you enter into a rivalry with its new owner

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (minors DNI), language, mentions of major character death, house fire, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.3K

Masterlist

A/N: This was a request from @aloneodi​.  The prompt was pretty straightforward: enemies to overs with lots of angst and smut.  Enjoy ;)

For the past two months the construction across the street from your bakery had driven you insane.  The constant sawing and hammering was grinding your gears.  You weren’t sure what was coming in the old storefront.  It had been vacant as long as you could remember.  You were in elementary school when Mr. Neely retired and the building now sat in a state of dilapidated disrepair: the front awning was threadbare, the windows were partially boarded up, and graffiti was spray painted over the brick storefront.  Inside the empty cases gathered dust and cobwebs.  It was a bit of a pleasant surprise when you came to work one day to see a ‘SOLD’ sign taped to the front door. 

“Maybe we should blast some music, give them a taste of their own medicine,” Natasha suggested with a smirk.  Natasha Romanoff was your right hand woman when it came to running the bakery.  Not only was she an accounting whiz and could balance the books in her sleep, she also made a mean creme brûlée.  

“I just don’t understand why it’s taken them so long to remodel.  It’s construction, not rocket science.  What’s going in there anyway?”

“It’s a coffee shop.  I met the owner when I went to the wholesaler the other day,” Sam explained as he dumped another batch of bagels into the bucket.  A slightly intimidating Air Force veteran with the heart of a teddy bear, Sam was your resident bagel maker and donut fryer.  People came from all corners of the state for his famous brownie batter donuts and egg everything bagels,

“So literally the exact same as us?”  You could hardly believe what you were hearing.  The Rolling Scones had quickly established itself as Westview’s premiere (and only) bakery.  Why did someone else need to open up right across the street?

“Hold up, it’s not exactly the same thing.  We’re a bakery that serves coffee and they’re a coffee shop that serves baked goods.  Totally different.”

You shot Sam a glance that immediately made him do an about face and head back to his boiling batch of bagels.  Flour covered fingers ran through your hair as you leaned up against the back counter thinking about all the negative ways this new shop was going to impact yours.

“What are we gonna do, Nat?  I can’t lose this place.”

“Y/N, relax.  It’s just another business.  We’re not going to go out of business just because there’s a new place in town.  If anything they’re the ones who should be worried.  They have to compete with Sam’s bagels.” 

“We could just burn it down!” Peter, the teenager who washed dishes after school and on weekends, added.  “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about them!”

“He’s got a point,” Sam added as the door jingled open.

“Peter!  Arson isn’t the answer here!” Nat rolled her eyes, heading to the back to work on handling the latest invoices.

“But it is a solution,” you teased.  Natasha groaned as she kicked the back room door open.  “Can I help you?” you asked, turning your attention to the customer who walked up to the counter.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a - oh, SAM!  Hi!”  The young woman in front of you raised up on her tiptoes and waved over the counter.

“Wanda hey!”  He walked over, an overflowing basket of hard rolls in his arms.  “Glad you came.  How’s the remodeling going?”

“Good!  My contractor told me that we should be able to open by the end of the month.”

“That’s great news!  Did you pick the name yet?”

“My brother and I argued about it for a while, but we finally settled on Latte Love.”

“You’re the one who bought the old deli?!”  

“Mmhmm.  I always wanted to open a coffee shop and I thought it was an absolutely charming little spot.  So I saved and took out some loans and got it!  I’m Wanda.  Wanda Maximoff.”  The overexcitable brunette shoved her hand out in front of you.

“Y/N L/N,” you responded as you reluctantly clasped her hand.  The last thing you wanted to do was be friendly with the person who was your direct competitor. 

Sam chatted with Wanda, asking her all sorts of questions about the wholesaler and how she was faring getting her deliveries set up.  Your vision went red at the sight of your friend and this despicable woman having a friendly conversation.  Why on earth would he invite her into your shop, the shop your parents worked so hard to build and the one you worked so hard to keep thriving?  The fear of losing the family business permeated your mind on a daily basis.  This wasn’t making it any better…

“Who’s that?” Natasha’s voice snapped you out of your stewing.  She leaned against the counter, sizing up the scene in front of her.

“That’s the new coffee shop owner.  Wanda.  I have no idea why she’s here or why she’s talking to Sam,” you huffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter.

“Someone sounds a little jealous,” Nat teased.  

“Jealous?!”  Your face flushed red with embarrassment.  “You think I’m jealous?  Nat, that’s the woman who’s going to try to steal all our customers!  She’s the enemy here, not the prize!”

Natasha looked at you, then at Wanda, then back at you, and back at Wanda.  “She’s hot.  Think I stand a chance?”

“Can you pretend you’re not gay for like, five minutes please?  Five minutes.  That’s all I’m asking.  I’m not jealous, I don’t want anything to do with her, and I swear to Christ if she’s into chicks too and you sleep with her your ass is so fired.  ANYONE who sleeps with her is outta here!”  As much as you hated to admit it, Natasha was right: Wanda was gorgeous.  She had the perfect figure, her cropped jeans hugging the curves of her hips just right.  The billowy light blue and white button up and oversized sun hat gave her a youthful exuberance that radiated from her glowing face and stunning green eyes.  

“You’d have less of a stick up your ass if you got laid, you know?” she smirked.  Groaning, you headed back toward the kitchen, kicking the swinging door with your foot.  The sweet smell of powdered sugar and freshly baked cupcakes instantly calmed you.  Unsure of how to amuse yourself until Wanda left, you grabbed a cooling rack of cookies and began frosting, turning the sugary discs into half moons.  The repetition of frosting and smoothing calmed you.  With enough time and vanilla Wanda’s unwelcome appearance would soon become a distant memory.

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

Latte Love had been open for almost a month.  The cafe had a slow start initially.  Customers trickled in and out for the better part of two weeks.  For those two glorious weeks you paid no heed to the brunette who could often be found sweeping the sidewalk and arranging the outside tables just so.  Suddenly, something changed.  Before you knew it a line formed outside the locked doors every morning with people waiting to get their morning cup of coffee.  You didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but once you spotted a couple of your regulars in the line your vitriol for Wanda increased tenfold.     

“That’s the third time today they’ve had a line out the door!” Peter exclaimed as he pressed his nose to the glass.

“Thank you for that reminder, Captain Obvious,” you snarked as you counted back change to the lady at the counter.  “Anything else you want to add?”  

Peter quickly recoiled from the glass, a sheepish expression on his face.  “Ned says their coffee is really good….and so are their muffins,” he mumbled.

Oh great.  Now I’ve gotta compete with her pastries, too.  What a bitch…you thought to yourself as you handed the lady back a fistful of coins.  Wanda was frustrating you more and more every single day.  You sighed, taking off your baseball cap and running your hands threw your sweaty hair. 

The door jingled.  Sam and Nat walked in, the two of them eating cookies that suspiciously didn’t look like yours.

“What are those?” you asked.

“You want one?  Wanda gave them to us.  Pietro’s trying out a new recipe for sugar cookies.  They’re honestly not half bad.”  Sam reached into the brown paper bag and grabbed a large cookie, its warmth causing it to bend ever so slightly.

“Goddamn it!  You slammed your cap down on the counter.  In your mind, this was an act of war and you were not going to stand for it.  Who did she think she was, bribing your employees?  

“Y/N, just relax, okay?  Wanda didn’t mean anything by it.  She’s really nice if you get to know her,” Natasha asserted.

“She’s stealing our customers!” you shouted.  “And I can’t believe you guys are eating her food!”

“Dude, relax.  The cookies are good and she’s nice.  Her brother’s cool, too,” Sam added, wiping cookie crumbs from his goatee.  

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled, storming around the counter and yanking the door open.  You were going over there to give her a piece of your mind. 

You didn’t care what customers thought as you pushed Latte Love’s door open.  Lucky for you there weren’t any at the moment, the last one having left moments ago.  You heard the commotion of dishes crashing from the back and a voice you hadn’t heard before mixing with Wanda’s.  As the commotion in the background subsided, it was the perfect opportunity to look around at the transformed deli.  

The new design was rustic chic with exposed brick walls, stained wooden tables, and the same rustic counter that Mr. Neely once stored his meats and cheeses in.  A series of shiny metallic coffee machines sat behind the counter, the shelves above it stocked with containers full of different types of coffee beans.  The front case was stuffed full of various breads, pastries, cookies, and sandwiches.  It wasn’t a bad place at all, and the food didn’t look half-bad either.  She’d actually done a decent job at bringing the old shop back to life.

“Y/N?” You whipped around as Wanda called your name.  She looked exhausted, her face glistening with sweat and powdered sugar as she pushed a rack of cupcakes and sweet breads out of the kitchen.  Her hair was swept up in a messy bun, strands hanging askew as she wiped the sweat from her bow with her arm.  Her black apron was peppered with sugar and frosting stains.  “How are you?  Did Sam give you a cookie like I asked him to?” “Did Sam - what?”

“Oh, I gave him some cookies to try.  Pietro’s working out a new sugar cookie recipe and he needs taste testers so I figured-”

“What are you playing at here, Maximoff?”

“Excuse me?” Wanda tilted her head as she questioned you, her gaze quickly hardening into a stare.

“You heard me.  What are you playing at?  Is stealing my customers not enough for you that you need to go after my employees too?”  

Wanda’s jaw dropped open as she stared at you incredulously.  She laughed, shaking her head as she started unloading the cupcakes.  “Are you for real right now?”

“Before you showed up we’d sell out every single day.  Now more often than not I’m throwing stuff out.  Sales have dropped and I’ve lost regulars that I’ve had for years.  So I’m telling you this now: stay away from me and my staff.”  It was all you could do to not take all your frustration out on her.

“I don’t know what you think’s going on here,” Wanda started, placing the trays neatly in the case.  While she wasn’t outwardly aggressive, she shoved them in there harder than she normally would.  “But you are absolutely insane if you think that I’m trying to steal your customers or staff or whatever.  Sam and Natasha have been nothing but kind to me and Pietro, I just want to return the favor.”

“Well stop.  The last thing I need is for my guys to be fraternizing with the enemy,” you grumbled, your blood pressure reaching a boiling point as you stared her down, fists clenched tightly at your side.

“Oh, so now I’m the enemy then?” She slammed the tray on the counter, sending loaves of bread tumbling off the sides.   “Jesus, Y/N, what’s wrong with you?  Have you ever stopped to think that maybe people stopped going to your shop because they wanted to try something new or, here’s a novel thought, maybe they like my place more than yours?”

“Fuck you, Wanda!  That place means everything to me!  You have no idea what I’ve done to keep that bakery running and I’m not gonna let your stupid bucket list adventure ruin my life’s work!”

“Get out!” Wanda shouted as she threw a muffin at your head.  Her aim was wide and the pastry hit the wall with a splat as you leaned out of the way.  “Get the fuck out of my store you bastard!”

Your vision tunneled as you stormed out of the shop, not neglecting to flip her the bird as you slammed the door behind you.  Ever since Wanda Maximoff came to town everything had gone completely and utterly wrong.  Everyone seemed to be flocking to her and her business.  Even Sam and Natasha, two of your closest friends in the whole wide world, had taken to her.  It irritated you to no end.  She constantly invaded the deepest depths of your mind, and many nights you awoke in a cold sweat after she invaded your dreams.  There was nothing you wouldn’t do to get her out of your mind: grueling pre-dawn runs, sleepless nights spent getting ahead on cake orders, countless after-work happy hours throwing back whatever alcohol you could get your hands on…anything to get that frustrating, irritating, beautiful woman, out of your mind.

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

After your spat, it was like someone had built the Berlin Wall in the middle of the street.  Patrons realized that something was up with the two shops and most had picked a side.  Lucky for you a majority of the customers you lost returned.  Things finally went back to normal for a while.  Sam and Natasha stopped frequenting Latte Love, or if they didn’t they kept quiet about it.  Natasha reamed you out for the way you snapped at Wanda, telling you to grow the fuck up and deal with it like an adult while Sam became unusually quiet around you.  It was exasperating, but at least you felt like you were in control again.  Yet as things started to go back to normal, there was something looming around the corner that would change your life forever.

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

“Hello?” you mumbled groggily into your phone.  It was the middle of the night and your phone jolted you awake with its abrasive ringtone.

“Y/N, it’s Nat.”  You shot right up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.  She sounded extremely concerned to the point where you were worried.

“What’s wrong?  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  It’s the bakery.  It’s-”

You didn’t even let her finish before you hung up, frantically searching for some clothes and your keys as you raced down the stairs of your apartment toward your car.  As you sped down the road toward downtown, an orange glow illuminated the dark buildings while sirens grew ever closer.  

Oh no.  Oh no no no no no.  Please no.  Please.  You white-knuckled the steering wheel, your damp palms sliding as your heart pounded in your chest.  The turn onto the main drag confirmed your worst fears: The Rolling Scone was burning. 

You skidded to a halt almost as soon as you turned the corner.  Fire engines, police cars, and ambulances blocked the area surrounding your store and the other end of the road while firefighters rushed into the burning building.  You jogged down the street, looking for a familiar face in the crowd of first responders.

“Y/N!” Natasha jumped out of the back of an ambulance and came running over to you, a reflective rescue blanket draped over her shoulders.

“Nat!  Oh god, are you okay?”  She threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight.  You instinctively pulled her close, cradling her head with one hand as you wrapped your other arm around her.  

“I don’t know what happened.  I was working on the books in the office before I got started on the donuts and I started smelling smoke, so I walked out there and the kitchen was on fire.  I tried to put it out, but when it got too big I called 911.  It’s all my fault, Y/N.  I’m so sorry.”  Her eyes were brimming with tears as she apologized for the mistake that wasn’t her fault.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled against the top of her head.  “I’m just glad you’re okay.”  You held her close to you as she cried into your shirt.  The sight of your beloved bakery burning to the ground in front of you should’ve elicited some emotional response from you, but you felt nothing.  None of what was happening seemed real.  You’d wake up in a few hours, shake off your nightmare, and head back to work like nothing ever happened, but that wouldn’t happen again for a very long time.  Now when you woke up, you’d have to spend the foreseeable future picking up the charred pieces of your livelihood.

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

Gone.  It was all gone.  The last tangible reminder of your parents had gone up in smoke.  Words couldn’t accurately describe just how devastated you were.  The bakery was the way you dealt with the crushing pain of having tragically lost your parents so early in life.  Now your coping mechanism was gone.  You looked around, seeing the charred remains of the booths, the front counter, and the collection of employee and family pictures that hung on the back wall.  One picture in particular caught your eye.  It was you and your parents after the little league championship game the year your team won.  The picture was charred around the edges, half of your mom’s body was burnt off, but it was mostly intact.  You ripped it off the wall, sighing as you stared at the faded memory.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered at your parents’ beaming faces.  You let their dream burn down and with it your last memories of them.

You stayed in the building most of the day.  Natasha stopped by at one point to find you on the floor leaning against what was left of the front counter.  She offered to grab you some food or take you home, but you declined, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the void.  That’s where Wanda found you when she showed up later in the evening.

“Hey,” she said as she crouched under the CAUTION tape.  You ignored her as you stared at the charred photograph in your hand.  She stood awkwardly in front of you, a brown paper bag in one hand and her purse in the other.  Wanda was the last person in the world you wanted to see right now.  You wanted to scream, to tell her to leave you alone, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Please go,” you murmured, flipping the photograph through your fingers.  

She didn’t go.  She walked over to the counter, kicking a piece of charred wood to the side as she sat down next to you.  There was an unspoken tension in the air as neither of you looked at each other: you stared down at the picture, she stared at the brown bag in her hand.  

“Here,” she said as she slid the bag over to you.  Taking a look inside the brown bag, you saw two delicious looking honey butter muffins staring back at you.  “I figured that it’d help you feel a bit better.”  Wanda smiled, her emerald eyes glimmering back at you.  For the first time since you met it made your heart skip a beat.

“You figured that muffins from your still-standing cafe would help me feel better about my bakery burning down?”

“Look I’m sorry, okay?  I’m really sorry about your bakery…” she trailed off as she brought her knees up and hugged them close to her chest.  “It should’ve been my place that burned down, not yours.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true!  Sam told me all about this place.  How your parents built it from the ground up, how you’ve literally spent your whole life working here, how you dropped out of school after they died to-”

“Please stop,” you interrupted as you felt another lump in your throat. .

“Is that them?” she asked, leaning over to get a better look at the photo in your hand.

You nodded.  “That’s, umm, that’s the day we won the little league championship.  Dad coached my team that year and…”  You trailed off as your eyes filled with tears.  “Umm, this place is the only thing I have left of them, you know?  Coming here every day, it’s almost like they’re still here.  And now that it’s gone I…”  You looked down at the picture as hot tears rolled down your face.  The emotional breakdown that had been brewing all day was finally bubbling up through the cracks.  “Sorry.”

Before you could say anything else, a pair of soft hands wrapped around you and pulled you close.  “It’s okay, you can let it all out,” Wanda whispered.  That was all it took for you to finally break down.  You sobbed into her chest as she held you.  She squeezed you close as she gently rocked back and forth, her fingers gently stroking your hair.  “You’re okay, Y/N.  You’re going to be okay.  I’ve got you,” she soothed.  Your body was wracked with sobs as you finally let everything go. 

Wanda’s touch was calming.  You’d never felt so calm or safe wrapped up in someone else’s arms before.  You never cried in front of anyone, not even Natasha and she was your best friend.  Somehow you knew that Wanda was someone you could trust completely.  “I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but you don’t have to go through it alone,” she whispered in your ear as your sobs started to calm.  You didn’t have enough control to speak yet so you simply nodded into her chest.  Her scent was intoxicating, a combination of sugar, roasted coffee beans, and vanilla blossom shampoo.  You never noticed it before.

“Sorry for getting your shirt wet,” you sniffled as you sat up.  

“Sorry for throwing a muffin at your head,” Wanda chuckled as she reached up to brush a stray tear from her face.  Her hand was incredibly soft as she rested it on your cheek.  You felt your face grow hot, but you weren’t sure if it was from the way she was touching you or the lack of distance between your faces or all of the above.  The knot in your throat instantly migrated down to your stomach as you locked eyes with her.

“ S’okay,” you mumbled as you lost yourself in her deep green eyes.  After staring for a moment too long, you turned your head away and blinked.  She shook her head, realizing for herself the tense intimacy of the situation.  “What kind of muffins are these?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Honey butter.  Pietro found the recipe online and fell in love with them.”  

“I can see why,” you responded with your mouth full.  “They’re good, but I think mine are just a bit better.”

“Shut up,” she answered with a playful smack.

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

Over the course of the next few weeks, Wanda came over to your bakery almost every day.  At first it was just to bring you something from the cafe: a cup of coffee and something sweet in the morning or a sandwich after she closed up for the evening.  Her presence soon became a familiar comfort to you and you looked forward to the few moments you spent with her every evening.  Daily food deliveries turned into offers to pick up dinner, and you often found yourself sitting up with her until all hours as you ate and continued the arduous rebuilding process.  Soon enough Wanda was coming over to help you on her days off.

As you spent more time with her, the way you thought about her changed.  You no longer woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares that involved her.  Nowadays when you dreamt about her you woke up with an uncomfortable throbbing in your pajama pants.  Her smile made you weak at the knees and you craved any opportunity to touch her.  She was an incredible woman but you were terrified to tell her how you felt.  

Natasha, of course, had noticed the shift in your demeanor towards her.  “So do I get to fire you when you sleep with her or are you gonna fire yourself?” she teased one night while you were tearing the tile flooring out of the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Nat,” you answered, not steering your attention away from the floor.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t drooling over her when she wore those shorts in here the other day.  Besides, I see the way you two are when you’re together.”

“She’s just being friendly.  She’s like that with you and Sam too, you know.”

“Y/N, she kept staring at your crotch when you wore those grey sweatpants last week.  Even if she doesn’t like you, and I’m telling you she does, she still wants to fuck you.”

“Right, yeah,” you guffawed.  While you brushed Natasha off, you hoped she was right.  You had caught Wanda staring when you wore your grey sweats last week…and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“You should tell her how you feel.  I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

“Nat-”

“She’s over there now.  Just go talk to her.  Ask her out for dinner or something.”

“Nat-”

“Relax, I’ve got everything under control,” she smiled at you.  “Go talk to Wanda.”

You groaned as you pushed yourself up from the hard floor.  “Fine.  But if this all goes wrong I’m blaming it on you!”  You wiped your hands on a rag, throwing it at Nat as you headed for the door.

“It won’t!” she called from the kitchen.  You shook your head, grinning as you pushed the door open and crossed the street to Latte Love.  The store was closed for the evening.  Inside, Wanda was cleaning up, wiping down the tables and counter like she did every evening before making her way to The Rolling Scone.

Wanda looked up as she heard the door jingle.  Her exhausted face lit up at the sight of you.  “Hey you,” she called.  “What’s going on?”

“Not much.  Just helping Nat rip up the tile in the kitchen.  Contractor says he’ll be ready to go by the end of the week for that.”  The words felt like cotton balls in your mouth.  You never got this flustered around her but the thought of telling Wanda how you truly felt about her had your stomach tied in knots.  “How was your day?”

“Good!  Pietro left early for an appointment, so it’s just me closing up.  I was planning on picking up Indian for dinner.  Wanna join me?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.  Listen-”

“Oh!  I got this call for this INSANE order.  This lady wants twelve dozen cupcakes by Sunday.  SUNDAY.  Can you believe that?!”

“Wanda-”

“I mean of course you can, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.  But I mean we’re a coffee shop, not a bakery!  I would’ve sent them to you but, well, you know, it’s a little hard to bake cupcakes when you don’t have an oven.”

“Wanda-”

“So I said ‘Sure, why the hell not?’ and I think that was a mistake because-”

“WANDA!” you said a little more aggressively than you intended. 

“Yeah?” She threw her hand towel over her shoulder.

“Wanda.  I, well, fuck.  Sorry, I’m not good at this.”  Your hands were all sweaty and your knees felt weak.  “Look.  What I want to say is, well, for the past few weeks we’ve…spending time with you…fuck!  Why is this so hard for me to say?”  You ran your fingers through your hair, frustrated that you couldn’t figure out the right words to say.  

Wanda’s quizzical look slowly softened into a smile as she started to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  She looked down at the ground, biting her lip as she threw the towel on the counter right before she jumped up on it, spun around, and hopped off on the other side.  She walked right over to you, stopping less than a foot away as she looked up into your eyes.

“You know, for an emotionally suppressed type of guy, you’re pretty cute when you get all flustered,” she teased.

“Wanda, I-” 

Before you could finish your thought, Wanda grabbed your waist, leaned in, and kissed you.  Your hands somehow found their way to the back of her neck, palms resting on her cheeks as you cupped her head.  Every single coherent thought you had flew out of your brain the second her lips touched yours.  They were just as sweet as you imagined they’d be.  You smiled into her lips, eternally grateful that she had been the one to initiate this in the first place.  She smiled back as you deepened it, capturing her bottom lip between yours.  There was no need for talking, no need for any other explanation.  The dance between your lips told the entire story: you were hers, and she was yours.  The knot in your stomach burst into a million butterflies as every touch ignited a burning sense of desire within you.  

“Wanda, I-” you somehow managed to choke out as she began to kiss the side of your neck.

“There’s a couch in the office and the door locks,” she mumbled.  Her lips grazed your sensitive skin as she spoke and it took everything in you not to let out an offensive moan.

“Lead the way.”  Wanda grabbed your hand and dragged you behind the counter and through the kitchen to the small office in the back of the shop.  You slammed the door shut behind you as Wanda pinned you to it, locking the door with one hand before bringing it back up to roam your body.  She slammed her lips into yours as you grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against your body.  The contact sent a surge of energy through your groin and you knew it would be only a matter of moments before your shorts became unbearably uncomfortable.  

You explored her body as you kissed her, tracing over every curve as she moaned into your mouth at the sensual contact.  She was heavenly.  You decided to change up the intensity of your make out session, swiping your tongue over her lower lip.  She willingly opened up and allowed your tongue to explore hers.  

Before you realized it, Wanda’s hands made their way down your body to the front of your shorts.  She unbuttoned them, stopping right afterwards to palm your throbbing erection.  You nibbled on her bottom lip as she fondled you and she smiled into your mouth in response.  As she pulled your pants and boxers down, you pulled off your t-shirt and threw it off to the side.  

“You’re beautiful,” Wanda whispered as she looked at your naked body for the first time.  She ran her hands over your toned biceps, strong and wiry from years of kneading dough, and your pecs, down your toned stomach before reaching your cock.  She grabbed it with one hand, stroking it gently as she dropped to her knees.

“Wanda,” you groaned as she worked her hands up and down your shaft.  Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she lined up her mouth with your tip and swallowed the first part of your penis.  She swirled her tongue around your tip, coating it in saliva before removing her mouth and using it as lube to jack you off.  Your knees felt weak as she took you in her mouth again, bobbing her head up and down your entire length.  She sucked and licked and swirled your cock, hollowing her cheeks as she took you down her throat.  The noises that came from her mouth as she gagged on your length were sinful, but it only made you want her that much more.

At one point she reached for your hand, placing it on the back of her head.  You took that as a sign to do what you wanted, so you moved her head up and down at a speed you liked.  You moaned as you felt the familiar fire burning within you, spurred on by the way Wanda’s eyes watered as she let you fuck her throat.  She grabbed onto your thighs as you pounded into her, nails digging into your flesh as she looked up at you with those pleading green eyes.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned as Wanda ripped your hand away from her head, bringing her other hand up to jack you off as she sucked on your tip.  The sudden suction and added stimulation immediately caused you to tumble over the edge as you released down her throat.  She greedily swallowed every last drop.  Having her suck you off like that was a life-changing experience.

Wanda sat back on her heels, wiping the drool from her chin as she gasped for air.  “Nice cock,” she chuckled.  “Hope it feels as good as it tastes.”

“Why don’t we find out?” you teased, offering your hand to her as she stood up.  “But I think you’ve got too many clothes on for that.”

“I think we can take care of that,” Wanda smirked, reaching down to pull her shirt over her head.  “Want to get my pants?” she asked as she reached behind her to undo her bra.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you joked as you unbuttoned her jeans.  You slid both them and her panties down her legs before she kicked them off.  “Wow,” you said, taking a step back to admire her.  

“Like what you see, tiger?”

“Wanda, I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”  Wanda blushed a deep shade of crimson at your words.  It wasn’t an exaggeration.  She was absolutely gorgeous.

“Thank you,” she whispered sheepishly as she sat on the couch.

You sat down next to her, your eyes darting from one part of her nude figure to the other before you settled back on her lips.  Leaning forward, you kissed her as she fell back on the couch.  It didn’t take much to shift your position so that you were completely on top of her.  You relished the taste of her lips as you kissed and you wanted to savor  the sensation of every second.

“Fuck,” you murmured as you reached a hand down between her legs.  “You’re absolutely soaked, Wanda.”  She whined as you drew a finger up the length of her cunt, teasing around her engorged clit.  “You do that to me every day.  I go home soaking wet and fuck myself thinking about how good you’d feel inside me.”  She bucked her hips against your hand, desperate to relieve the ache building within her.  “God, I want you in me so bad, Y/N.”

“Jesus,” you whispered through gritted teeth as your erection swelled at her words.  “And here I was trying to figure out how to tell you how the first thing I do every morning is jack off to the thought of you.”

“I guess we both have filthy minds then,” she grinned.  Her face was flushed with arousal, the redness spreading down her neck and onto her breasts.  “Fuck!” she exclaimed as you dipped a finger ever so slightly inside her before quickly pulling out.  “Please just fuck me!”

“You’re cute when you beg,” you sighed as you lined yourself up with her entrance.  You teased her with your tip, rubbing it up and down her slit and over her lips and clit before barely pushing your head in.  She whined, rolling her hips in a feeble effort to lower herself onto you.  

“Y/N please-” Wanda’s words turned into a sharp cry as you slammed your entire length inside her.  Her pussy was absolute heaven.  She was warm and wet, her slick velvety walls engulfing you and squeezing in all the right places. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you croaked.  You laid over her for a minute, trying to regroup yourself enough so you wouldn’t immediately blow your load inside her.  As she adjusted to your intrusion and you calmed yourself down, you began to roll your hips against her, thrusting in and out.

“Shit,” she gasped.  Wanda rolled her hips in time with yours, meeting you as you thrust your length all the way inside her.  You continued at a steady pace, the sounds of her wet pussy being the only noise in the room.

“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing Wanda’s eyes were screwed shut.

“Feels really good.  Can you go faster?”  Not wanting to disappoint, you began to pound into her.  Her mouth gaped open at your newfound intensity as she reached up to wrap her arms and legs around you.  “Oh fuck, right there.”

The couch shook under the duress of your movements.  You pounded into Wanda, her tight hole stretching perfectly around your cock with every thrust.  Sweat beaded on your forehead as you grunted from exertion.  Your moans and groans, along with the squelching of Wanda’s pussy, filled the room.  As you pounded into her cunt, your cock disappearing within her wet folds, Wanda’s moans became louder and more erratic.  “You close, baby girl?”

Wanda nodded, wrapping her legs tighter around your midsection.  “My clit,” she choked out.  You helped her move one of her arms from your back to the sensitive spot.  She circled it furiously, a loud groan tearing from her chest.  “Faster,” she commanded.

You doubled down on your efforts and hammered into her dripping cunt.  The way her walls fluttered and clenched around you told you she wasn’t far away from her orgasm.  The way she tightened around you sent that familiar coil through your lower abdomen.  It wouldn’t be much longer until you reached your climax as well.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whined.  You pounded into her as fast as you could, groaning as your hips slammed against her swollen pussy.  Her hand circled her clit furiously.  Wanda came with a loud groan, her back arching off the couch as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed down on her.  Her walls throbbed and clenched rhythmically around you, the intense sensation finally causing you to cum as you released your thick load of cum deep inside her.  Wanda dug her nails deep into your back as you absolutely ruined her.

“Fuck I love you,” you gasped as you collapsed on top of her from sheer exhaustion.  Blood pounded in your ears and black dots peppered your vision as you recovered from the best orgasm you ever had.  

“You love me?” Wanda asked, her eyes blown wide with desire from the afterglow of her incredible orgasm.

“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.”  A sense of panic overtook you as you stared down at Wanda.  

“No it’s okay.  I mean, I feel the same way,” she admitted, smiling back up at you.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm” 

You chuckled as you leaned down to kiss her.  “Guess I have to quit my job now.” 

Wanda looked at you with a confused expression.  “What?” she asked as she cocked an eyebrow.

“I told everyone that they’d be fired if they slept with you, so I guess I’ve gotta quit.” 

“I love you,” Wanda giggled as she shook her head.

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

“So let me get this straight: we’re merging with Latte Love after you threatened to fire us if we talked to Wanda?” Sam crossed his arms as he sat on the newly reconstructed front counter.  You had called the team together to announce the new business venture you were about to embark on.

“Okay first off I only threatened to fire you if you slept with her.  Talking to her would’ve resulted in a stern talking to and overnight donut duty for a week.  Second, it's not a merger so much as it is a partnership.  Both businesses will operate independent of one another, but now we’re going to start carrying some of their baked goods,” you explained.  Everyone looked at you in utter disbelief, unable to fathom your sudden shift in the way you viewed Latte Love.

“What changed?” Nat asked, tapping her pen against the table.

“Oh you know…stuff…things,” you murmured sheepishly as your face reddened.

“Oh my god!”  Nat’s eyes widened in realization as she stood up. “You slept with her!”

“Dude what?!  That’s so -” Peter exclaimed before Sam slapped his hand over his mouth to shut him up.  You pinched the bridge of your nose as you looked up at the ceiling.  Natasha was laughing at the irony of the whole situation before she lambasted you with questions.

“How long has this been going on?  Wait, was it a one time thing?  Oh, it was definitely the time I made you go over there to talk to her when we were ripping up the floor.  And you told me you two just talked.  Talking my ass…Is this a business deal, like sex in exchange for pastries?  Are you two a thing?  I should’ve guessed with how much time you’ve been spending over there and how you never want to do anything fun with me anymo-”

“Nat, will you please shut up?!”  Her endless questions were exasperating.  Yes, you and Wanda were in fact a thing but you hadn’t told anyone about it.  You hadn’t even told Nat about your back office hookup even though it happened two months ago.  There was so much going on with rebuilding the bakery and dealing with insurance claims that you wanted to keep this part of your life private.  “I just think it’d be a good idea for both of us, maximize our profits, boost both of our busin-”

“Hey babe, is there any way you can come help me with the rest of the-” Wanda paused as she barged in on your team meeting.  “Oh hi guys!”

“Mmhmm, it’s definitely good for both of you,” Nat smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.  You shot her a warning look while Wanda stood utterly oblivious to the scene unfolding around her.  “Go on, go help your girlfriend with whatever she needs.  I’ll show Peter how to do the bagels.”

You smiled at Wanda as you headed toward the door.  “So what do you need my help with?”

“Nothing,” Wanda responded as she reached for your hand.  “Just wanted to spend some time with my favorite guy.”

“Don’t let Pietro hear you say that.”

“That’s okay, he already knows.”  She squeezed your hand reassuringly as you crossed the street.  

You smiled as her grip tightened around your hand.  Six months ago there was no way to predict that the woman who ruined your life would ultimately become the greatest thing that ever happened to you.  As you crossed the threshold from your bakery to her cafe, you were grateful to be able to call The Rolling Scone, Latte Love, and Wanda home. 

[curtsycream]

James Potter Blurb

I saw the quote and I felt like writing, might do a few of these idk yet

It was raining heavily outside as she sat shoulder to shoulder with James. Her eyes focused on the steady sound of rain hitting the window in the dorm he shares with Remus and Sirius. The two having left for the common room an hour ago.

Tilting her head she looks at James as he pushes his glasses up his nose. Her eyes attentive as she watches him then flip the page to the book he was reading. A muggle book by the title of Valley of The Dolls a book she told him about.

She picked up on his little habit of reading or buying things she expressed interest in. Just last week she expressed her love for Vermont Teddy Bears due to how soft and cute they were. That very same week she found one wearing a red jumper with the letter J on it.

Smiling to herself she looks back towards the window her hand in his free one. She let out a small laugh when she heard him mutter something. He had another habit when he was absorbing in what he was reading he would disregard any and everything around him. It was a sight to see as he would mutter to himself as if the book could speak back to him.

In that moment a thought came to her mind, “hey, Jamie…do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?”

The question was strange in the way that he didn’t expect her to ask something like that. Lifting his gaze from the book he looked her in thought.

“You don’t have to answer that, I was just thinking.”

“No I don’t mind, it just caught me off guard,” he started while closing the book. Placing it on his lap he nods his head, “some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

She couldn’t find it in herself to disagree as she leaned forward kissing him gently on the lips. What she felt for him and how he showed his love for her was too strong to be a mere coincidence.

“I’m starting to really dislike Neely..”

“Just wait a few chapters I’m sure you’ll dislike her more,” she laughed out.

“Promise to listen as I complain about it?”

“As long as I get to complain with you.”

“I promise.”

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Non BL Fan watches Only Friends

Hey. Yeah so I'm still on this. So when Only Friends ended, it left kinda of a bitter taste in my mouth. I liked a lot of things about it but by the end it really didn’t leave a good impression. There’s been a lot written about it, about expectations, and branded pairs, and how fandom may have played a role in this, and how the writing maybe because of that kinda took a turn midway through the show. And it kept bugging me that these opinions were also rooted in our understanding of this type of media, and everything that comes with it. Be it branded pairs, all the bls that came before or the industry as a whole. But I couldn't really have any perspective because I'm part of the problem. I'm too close. So, the only way for me to kinda get over this was to get someone far removed from this to watch it. And here is where my friend Neely comes in. They're not a bl watcher. The only bl they ever watched was Choco Milk Shake which I think we can all agree would not influence their viewing of Only Friends. They are however the only person who I talk to about bl, or the only person who has the patience to listen to me, whenever I’m feeling particularly annoyed about something or just wanna share a good moment. I immediately sent them the olive oil scene (with only a tiny bit of context) because it was so beautiful that I needed to scream with someone about it. So anyway, I asked them to watch the show. They knew a couple of things about it, because I complained to them about it at the time, but they has no reference for it so, I don’t think that I influenced the viewing that much. Also they're pretty unbiased about everything.

So last night they watched the first 4 episodes and I’d like to share their thoughts with everyone who like me might be curious. Because they're the best person ever, he wrote a whole text about it so I could share. Also we're almost at the end of the year and this might be the thing that finally closes this chapter for me. This is what they had to say after watching the first 4 episodes.

(I'll be adding my own thoughts in purple)

After 4 episodes, mostly I think it's really predictable plot wise for anyone who's watched a general TV western series, like a Netflix production, which I was maybe surprised. The ways to cause drama and plot advancement are very similar. Of cpurse this is me saying this based on the other BL I watched (Choco Milk Shake) which felt much more out of the expected canon.

Just to get this out of the way: they're all toxic and terrible people, to the extent I find it very hard to connect to any of them. Just in the exposure parts of ep1 there's all of them being horrible to Ray for being drunk – even though they also are? - and to top it up later on they're all drunk, and the woman (sorry I should know her name but it's not like they're giving her any storyline or screen time (aside from, I almost forgot, randomly spraining her ankle 😂) for me to remember) I thought that the fact that this was obvious to them from the beginning was very interesting because I maybe gave them more rope in the beginning to expand on her because I thought she was gonna get more later. she's even drunker it seems but they all fall on Ray only; they literally complain he wants another drink and judgementally go "ewww more drinks don't you think it's enough" and dig into his drinking, he leaves, and then they continue drinking? This got even darker to me when the suicide attempt is revealed, and from then it became really hard to consider them friends? Maybe Mew and Ray but the dynamics of that are anyway weird. This is something I myself struggled with all through the show, like how are these people even friends? and I understand the point illustrated by @bengiyo in this post but I still couldn’t get over that. And maybe that’s just the way I see friendships that these people looked even worse in my eyes. Like I cannot compute them treating Ray like that, even if they're done of his drinking, when they know where he's at emotionally. It also doesn't feel they ever tried to help him so I don't think they have the right to be done, just feels like they don't care.

Top, toxic from day one with this challenge attitude towards fucking the virgin; and the gross way he speaks about it with Boston. It's a big no from me to both of them. It's not even them hooking up for me, Top is just kinda sleazy, manipulative, hyper entitled, I do not take anything he says as truth because he just feels so double faced to me. Even just these episodes he's already shown so many cracks: hiding the hook up with Boston (which I'm beginning to feel was more than a hook up?), the whole random drug dealing thing, how he objectifies Mew like a virgin-trophy when talking to Boston, how he manipulates him and also his weird jealousy and control. Ok, this is where I admit I was completely wrong. I thought that way of seeing Top was very influenced by the promotional material and the way the crew and actors talked about the character. And yet, without any prior knowledge he immediately disliked him. I was not expecting that to be honest. And in this case maybe I just wanted the character to go in a different direction so I kept not seeing the pretty obvious red flags. I mean I saw them but tried really hard to look behind them. My bad. Although we could both agree that he’s gorgeous.

I don't like Mew, but I don't think it's the characters fault or how it's written. It's just the troupe of character writing, especially in gay shows, that I can't stand. It's kinda cancer vibes (astrology lol). A bit not necessarily overt but a general sense of holier than thou cause he's a virgin and "has standards". I don't think he's leading Ray on, I think he actually kinda communicates well he just wants friendship. He could be clearer but also this is TV, so we need slight unclearness for drama purposes lol, but I'm not mad about that. Miss communication is the bane of my existence but it apparently makes for compelling television. Or not.

But generally this hot fuck everyone guy falling for the kinda dorky virgin is so dull to me, this virgin is always this weird insert of purity, more often than not an insert where the writer in one way or another projects himself into, to be able to judge the rest of the community, the moral compass (read: normative in terms of society expectations, also kinda mildly Christian coded, like girl next door in the village), and I do always find it a bit queerphobic. I'm not saying there aren't queers like that and that they shouldn't be represented, but the very intense and obvious writing decisions to position him as this moral center (also visually he's always wearing whites and pastels? Virgin mew, Virgin Mary! Lol) that makes all the other characters, often queer, seem kinda dirty and mean and unprincipled. I have nothing to add here because I agree with them on most of this, and I also think that it was never a coincidence to have a virgin in the middle of this group, to serve as the barometer of right and wrong. Cause he's the pure one so he must know what's right. I disliked mew almost instantly when the show started, because I always thought he was just a terrible friend and that’s the greatest sin of all. A small note that I think it's hilariously dumb that he's been protecting his Virginity for all this time and so like "omg it's hard for me, omg I go slow, omg I have a check list" and then it's like "you drop coke I drop pants", virginity done lol. This was just funny and accurate.

I am not talking about Boston right now cause I hate him. And I also hate that they wrote the slut in such a cliche but I do think they did. I remember you saying something people attacking him too much and him being slut-shamed, but he's written as villain quite clearly. Lol I think he's leading mobile phone shop guy on, it's very player manipulation vibe to be always giving him just a bit more to keep him going and the promise of something more open, when we know he just wants to fuck, and especially fuck when he's butt hurt about Top and Mew. And the way he's treating Mew, terrible friend; and also the advances on Top are far from boundary and consent-based lol. But also Top doesn't feel very interested in getting out, he just weirdly stands there silent being licked in the neck, so I blame both on that whole thing. I have to say that I never really read the shower scene like others might have, like obviously Boston was being terrible to Mew in that moment and not respecting Top's boundaries, but I also didn't see Top as helpless in this moment.

I think the only pair that gets away with actually being cute and not toxic and manipulative is Sand and Ray, they're my faves. Yey!! I find them very endearing and with so much chemistry. They're the only characters who honestly genuinely said sorry to each other and had some accountability when they fucked up with each other.

Even tho I'd like a bit more from Sand about the whole "burden to society" comments at the start - they annoyed me so much. The others it's manipulation after manipulation for me, and it doesn't allow me to get into them so it feels like deep lack of chemistry. Top and Mew's relationship feels really really really meh to me. And I don't know why they're friends, also cause very little of them as friends gets shown after ep1. Well they have the school project that keeps them together but other than that really, why? As I explained above I really struggled with the friendship aspect of all this.

But generally, I feel like the editing and writing are very like Mew is amazing and the others are horrible, and we do just get scenes of everyone being shit and Mew not being great but being naive and cutesy with a hint of superiority. Also you're a virgin your not a thumb stone, give your boyfriend a kiss sometimes. I thought this comment was hilarious but also obviously from a non bl watcher because that didn’t register to me, because I’m so used to boyfriends being so shy around kissing in bl that it didn't even cross my mind.

I think I'm slightly meh by all of them but partly is maybe my expectations too - I knew this one specifically was a bit westernized, but I was nurturing this little idea that it would feel a bit different, that some of the ways things were explored would feel different because of the cultural differences, but I do think you could sub all of the actors for white us-americans and the script would fly, you could probably even set it in a progressive state in the us and wouldn't have to re-write much.

So, I might totally be talking out of my ass, but what I'm left thinking is: is there really no culturally specificity to queer community there? is really all queerness and promiscuity in Thailand this performance of the west? Maybe it is, because of different social rules and expectations and freedoms, I really am not knowledgeable enough, but I'm just wondering if it's that or if it's just being made to be more palatable to me. And I think that's fine as a choice for them to know target audience, but I'm left wondering how the actual scene is in Thailand, what the social pressures are there and how they navigate them, specifically at this nexus of queerness and promiscuity. I also don’t know enough about the culture in Thailand to speak about it but I do agree with the point that this show could be made in us tv and they really wouldn’t need to change much. Without knowing anything about the creators of ofts, aside from the fact that they’re queer, they said later that they would compare it to something that Ryan Murphy could produce.

_

After I read this I had a chance to video chat with them briefly , and there were a couple more things that came up that I thought were really interesting. they were asking me about the actors and how well known they were, etc. Because they thought that the characters were purposefully being shown as really flat, and just bad with no redeemable characteristics and that maybe because the fandom already knew them and already liked them, they could do that without needing to waste time making us care for them, by giving us their good sides. Which I never really considered, but as with most things, our prior knowledge might play a part in this too. I know at least for me, I'm not gonna lie, the fact that I like Khaotung definitely made me care for Ray from the start in a way that maybe I wouldn't normally have.

Anyway, they'll continue to watch it and I'll probably post more of thoughts in the future. I also started to rewatch it slowly so I'll definitely keep thinking about this. If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. 💜

[frenchiefitzhere]

spell out your name or url with songs !! (starting a new thread bc the other one was getting loooooooong) F- Femme Like U (Cœur de Pirate)

R- Run Away With Me (Adam Neely/Kate Steinberg)

E- Enfance 80 (Videoclub)

N- Not Your Year (The Weepies)

C- Coast (Gone Gone Beyond)

H- Hey Siri (Salem Ilese)

I- In a Stranger's Arms (Léon)

E- Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Tears for Fears)

Tagging: @teafairywithabook @ejunkiet @romirola @pinksparkl @epsi-l0n @androleda and anyone who wants to play! /np

[gigagendergt]

NEW NOIR ROBOT G/T STORY LET'S GO

as of right now this is untitled. let me know if i should continue it!

The sun was orange in the smoke-haze of the slum chimneys by the time J-8 arrived at the crowded turnstile-filled entrance of the cellblock apartment building on Eleventh street. He, as always, brushed past the fee gates with impunity. The light on the turnstile he passed was broken and the bar only reached up to his thighs, but it still cranked its way in a jarred circle to let his metal lower half through.

The place was crawling with humans and they eyed him in suspicious tones or let out breath through their noses or, in one man's case, spit flavored tobacco on the floor as he passed by. Saffron and anise. The elevator was broken so he took the stairs as always, stepping up three at a time. The low ceilings of the place weren't up to code and he took care not to brush the metal lobe of his crown against the ceiling lest it damage it and cause one of the above occupants to fall through.

Everything human-built was fragile. If he was found of comparisons he might say it was like living with paper dolls in paper houses, but it had been Stell who came up with that one.

He arrived at the door a little past ten pm. It was painted a sad, peeling yellow. Stell's roommate Neely answered the knock. He was high and the smoke rolled past J-8 into the hallway. Behind Neely three or four others lay sprawled on blankets on the floor, watching the sticky TV screen. As Neely spoke they looked over. One, a girl with long blonde hair rolled into makeshift rag curlers, stood up violently at the sight of J-8.

"Oh, shit," Neely said. "Yo." He tried hard to extinguish the blunt he'd been smoking.

"It's fine, Neely," J-8 said.

"What the fuck is that doing here," the girl with the curlers shrieked.

"Hey," Neely said, raising his voice. "Chill. This is Stell's guy."

The girl grabbed a pastel pink bag from the counter and shuffled towards the window, keeping her body hunched towards the door in a suspicious C-shape.

"Hey, what the fuck," the man next to her said-- he was skinny, all angles and lines-- "that's a bot."

Neely looked back at them, looked back at J-8. His ineptitude was almost endearing. "Yeah," he said.

J-8 moved forward and Neely shuffled out of the way, cramming himself against the humming refrigerator. The room wasn't large and J-8 wasn't small and he had to move at unnatural angles to avoid touching Neely, whose heart rate had jumped at the sudden intrusion.

"I just need to talk to Stell," J-8 said.

"Well, fuck, man," Neely said, ducking under J-8's bent knee, "I'll go get her. Jesus. Betta, C-line, Mono, dip out the fire exit. We can chill on the roof."

The blonde ran over to the window and hauled it open, crawling out onto a metal terrace. As her bare feet vanished the skinny man glanced back at Neely.

"Yo," he said, "you good?"

Neely waved his hand frantically in the man's direction.

"All right," the man said, and followed the blonde. The last human, an androgynous figure with ripped-up jeans and a hook nose, stared at J-8 for a charged half-second before they moved to exit.

He ran records, ticking through the mental files. Mono. The alias rang a bell. A few counts of drug possession, distribution, forgery. J-8 had legal right to detain them but doing so would damage his relationship with Stell and he needed her more than he needed a petty conviction. Besides, drugs weren't this thing, or his AI's. He hadn't turned a dealer in for fifteen years.

Neely hobbled over the crowded floor to a thin stairwell: grabbed a tall orange bong with one hand as he went, stooped to sweep a few buds into his pocket with the other, and almost tripped over a number of ancient analog cassette players, which he collected. He vanished out of sight as he ascended the stairwell, and J-8 heard him rap on an unseen door and the answering creak of it opening. Stell emerged a few seconds later, Neely trailing behind.

She was descending the stairwell slower than usual and J-8 immediately clocked the broken rib she'd tried to hide by packing herself into a tall corset. It was looser than it should be, for one thing, and for another she was using it to immobilize her upper body, taking the corset's structure as support when she shifted side to side. She'd scrubbed off most of her makeup but streaks of black remained around the eyes where, J-8 knew, the cheap stick liner street girls wore lingered. J-8 connected Neely's earlier anxiety as his presence to Stell's injury and began redrafting his approach. Humans were complicated at the best of times. Scared and injured they were nigh unpredictable.

"All right," Neely said, waving his arms toward J-8 as Stell settled onto the floor and leaned back against the wall. "Have fun. Scream if you need me."

"Yeah, yeah," Stell said, pushing her palms against the linoleum and shuffling herself a bit higher so her back was flush against the cheap wallpaper.

Neely turned to head out the window and Stell watched him, pursing her lips. It wasn't until he shut the glass behind him that she turned to J-8.

"What do you want, big boy?" she asked. J-8 shifted, tucked his metal limbs into a cross-legged full lotus position.

"There's a new striker," he said. "Killed six in the past 48 hours."

Stell scoffed. "Well I know jack about that. Sorry."

"I know," J-8 said. "I came to hear about the humans."

Stell considered him with soft brown eyes.

"What about the humans?" she asked flatly.

"Did you know them, are there rumors, where did they live, who were they, what drugs did they take, why'd they sell out?"

"No I didn't know them, yes to the rumors, they lived out in the- well, two lived out in the brick building by Central, and the other lived I think over in Newsom, something like that- what were the other questions?"

"Who were they?"

"Oh, you know, street drags. One guy sold TV's. I think the girl was a busybody or something. I dunno about the big guy. Don't you have record for this stuff?"

"Had," J-8 said. "they got wiped."

"All of them?"

"Just the sellouts."

Stell let out a burst of laughter, then winced. "Fuck. That's funny. You got a rogue one huh?"

"It happens."

"Yeah, it sure fucking does."

J-8 inclined his head.

Stell yawned. "Fuck," she said. "Stinks in here."

J-8 said nothing.

"Are you gonna bust Neely?"

J-8 shook his head. "I don't do drugs."

"Oh, I forgot, you're a bleeding heart."

"I'm a tactician. Weed is harmless. Strikers aren't."

Stella pressed her lips into a suspicious line. "Except at the facility, right?"

"I don't have time for this, Stell."

Stella considered him, and some of the tension on her body eased. J-8 heard the smokers outside laugh through the thin wall of the apartment.

"I don't know," Stella said, pulling a thin glass vial from her pocket and smearing a white liquid onto her mouth with a finger. "That's the truth. Just what I told you already."

J-8 inclined his head. "Two in Central, one in Newsom, street drags, TV's, busybody."

"Yeah, that's about it."

J-8 pushed his weight up, unbound his legs. "Thanks, Stell. I'll check it out."

"Wait," Stell said. He paused. She leaned forward, rocked onto her feet with a wince, and slowly straightened.

"Knock 'em dead, cowboy," she said, and hobbled over to kiss his cheek. He permitted the action in tense silence, hyperaware of her broken rib, the fact she used sex as a connection to the unattainable, the way her infatuation with him would have to be discouraged if not broken entirely for her own safety.

She pulled back and he let his eyes drop to her rib. "I'll send a doctor by this afternoon," he said. "Confidential. No questions asked."

She sighed. "Fine. Be that way. I'll get you sooner or later."

J-8 left without commenting. It wasn't until he reached the stairway that he allowed himself to put a hand to his cheek and feel the metal chip she'd stuck there using her own saliva and, he'd guess, a sterile glue. It would have to be probed for malware before he could decipher it. He dropped his hand, tilted his head, sent one of his remote drones to monitor the apartment until his next return. That was a level of theatrics humans only went to when they felt unsafe. She must have stored the waterproof chip under her tongue for the duration of the conversation.

Smart girl, Stell. He would have to keep an eye more than usual. Smart and risky, and humans had a way of getting themselves killed.

[odinsblog]

De-escalation is a skill set.

It is something that every single one of us could learn. It is something that could even be a matter of public education and public-health campaigns. Sometimes a person may be at a 10 emotionally, and the smallest gesture of humanity can help them out. I had a situation two weeks ago on the street in D.C. where it seemed like someone was popping off, and I said, “Hey, man, I’m gonna get you some lunch.” Jordan Neely was saying exactly what he needed, which was food. He narrated this tragedy himself. He said, “I’d rather be in jail than try to navigate what the city has become.” Every single one of us is at the brink right now.

Rents have skyrocketed to these absolutely extortionate prices.

When housing prices go up, homelessness goes up. It’s not a grand mystery. I’ve been just dismayed to see what the response to this has been at the highest levels.

(continue reading)

[alanshemper]

Lenée A. Voss, May 3 2023

I think of that when I think of my own mental illness. I have never had a psychotic episode, but that doesn’t mean I never will. In a situation where I am incapable of taking care of myself, in the event that my treatment plan fails, I am more likely to be a victim of violent crime than I am to commit one. But, we don’t have that social consciousness. it’s not a widely known piece of info, the way water is wet. We know water is wet. We know broken glass is sharp. We do not, as a collective, know that mentally ill people are more likely to be hurt than to hurt others.

[multi-fandom-enjoyer]

The Emerald Archer (year one):

Episode 0.5 "Five Years" pt.1

December 10th, 2024 (Lian Yu)

Y/n(nar.): Wednesday, December 10th

A hooded figure runs trough a forest. Climbing over rocks and climbing up a tree before swinging on one of its branches.

Y/n(nar.): Running. It's seems like I've been running my entire life. Especially for these last five years.

The figure finally reaches the highest rock. He grabs a bow and an arrow, continuesly scapping the arrow on his knife trying to get a flame. Finally a spark ignites on the arrow causing the figure to draw back the bow and launch it into a pile of wood catching the attention of nearby fishermen.

Y/n(nar.): But that ends today. The island they found me on is Lian Yu, it's Mandarin for "Purgatory," and that's what it has been. I've been dreaming of my rescue ever torturous day for the last five years. I am returning not as the afraid boy who always ran from fights but as the man who will bring justice to those the law has failed.

The fishermen land on the island to see a black and orange mask on a stick with an arrow through its right eye.

They soon saw the figure stumbling twords them. He drops to his knees and removes his green hood.

Y/n(nar.): My name is Y/n Barton.

-------------------‐-----------------------------------------------

Barton Residence (Same day)

The Barton family: Clint, Laura, Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel were all decorating a Christmas in their living room. Clint and Laura sat on the couch, drinking beer and wine and watching their three kids decorating the tree and goofing off. Clint looked at his remaining three kids not wanting to lose them again trying to forget about losing his eldest son and when he became Ronin

Clint: Guys, your mother and I have some news.

The kids turned to look at them. Clint smirked as he pulled out tickets for Roger the Musical in New York City. The three kids began to cheer.

Clint(laughs): We have been talking about it for a while now. Since I'm an Avenger, I can get five tickets free. Happy early Christmas.

Before they could explain more they heard the phone go off in the kitchen. Clint began to rise to get the phone before Laura stopped him.

Laura: I got it.

Laura went to the kitchen with her wine glass while Clint stayed with the kids. Clint began to explain how they would stay in New York for a few days before returning home for Christmas. Suddenly, they stopped as they heard a glass break and Laura screen from the kitchen. Clint rushed to the kitchen to see his wife shocked with her hand infont of her mouth.

Clint(Confused): What happened? What's wrong?

Laura(Weakly): They found him.

-------------------‐-----------------------------------------------

December 12th (New York Hospital)

The Barton family is standing outside of a hospital room listening to the doctor while looking at their son, who was staring out to the window in his room.

Doctor: Over 30% percent of his body is covered in scared tissue. Third-degree burns spread across his back. X-rays show at least 12 different fractures that never fully healed.

Clint: Has he said anything about what happened?

Doctor: No. I advise you to proceed with caution. The Y/n you lost will not be the one they found.

Lila: What does that mean?

Nate: Who cares. Y/n's back!

Clint and Laura entered the room with Y/n turning to see them.

Y/n: Hi mom. Hey dad.

Both of them hugged their son with teary eyes.

Laura: Is it really you?

Y/n: It's really me mom.

[theangrypomeranian]

gimmie numer 7 for gac pack plzzz <3 <3

<3333

Laundry day was one of Courtney’s favorite days of the week, if only because it gave her a prime excuse for stealing her boyfriends' clothes.

Today's clothes of choice were a pair of Gene’s sweatpants and one of Alex's sweaters. The sweatpants were, of course, too big, so she tied them tighter around her waist and rolled up the bottoms so that she wouldn't trip on them. The sleeves of the sweater went well past her hands, so she had to keep pushing them up. But both clothes items were warm, and they smelled like her boys.

As she sat on the couch waiting for the load in the washer to finish, she heard the lock turn, signaling their return. She grinned but didn’t move, instead burying her face in her book as she tried to keep from giggling.

She heard them murmuring to each other as they walked down the hall to the living room where she was, then Gene started chuckling. "Babe."

Courtney bit her lip to hold back her smile. "Hm?"

Then his arms were wrapped around her from behind the couch, his nose nuzzling against her cheek. "Did you steal my pants again?"

"Yes." She tilted her head back to flutter her eyelashes innocently at him, barely keeping her mouth from twitching up. "I needed something to wear while doing laundry. All of my comfy clothes had to be washed."

"Why don’t I believe you." But Gene kissed her cheek, his hands rubbing her shoulders.

Courtney hummed as Alex sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. "She looks cuter in our clothes than we do," he defended her to their boyfriend, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"I can’t argue with that." Gene rounded the couch to sit by them, leaning over to peck Alex's lips before kissing Courtney, his hands cupping her face.

She kissed him back, moaning softly when she felt Alex kiss the back of her neck. She pulled away from Gene to turn her head to press her lips to Alex's, with Gene lifting her hand to kiss her fingertips.

Before they could really start anything, the timer for the washer went off and the jingle for it played. Courtney pulled away from her boys, standing up and stretching. "Alright, that's my cue." She turned to wink at them. "Gotta go steal more clothes." Then she turned and flounced to the laundry room, grinning when she heard them laughing after her.

[freneticfloetry]

🎶🏆

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Hey, Harley! You know, I used to be able to make elaborate, character-driven playlists for my projects and put them on repeat while I wrote. I loved that. Sadly, as I sort of grew as a writer, my ability to write to music shrank. First I was only able to write to instrumental pieces — I listened to a lot of Yiruma, Blake Neely, Bear McCreary, Gustavo Santaolalla, and random film scores in those days — because anything with words fought with the ones trying to come out of my brain. For the last few years, though, I’ve only been able to write in silence, so I tend to sequester myself away with nothing but my laptop and the character voices in my head. I miss writing to music, honestly. (Also, I was much more prolific in those days. Go figure.)

When I’m not writing (or watching something), I listen to music constantly. I’ve been listening to “Youth” by Daughter on a loop more than almost anything else, though — like the rest of the world at the moment — Hozier’s “Too Sweet” is in there as well.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

I think once you’ve been writing for long enough, everyone has that one sort of juggernaut fic that is leaps and bounds more popular than everything else. Mine is a Hunger Games oneshot , Ashes and Flame (Every You and Every Me), a post-canon Peeta POV that I wrote in the wee hours of one random morning immediately after I finished the final book. I have no idea how people keep finding and reading this fic, but it does hold a special little place in my heart.

Ask me things!

[cyarsk52-20]

Daniel Penny is the Subway Strangler. This monster killed Jordan Neely in cold blood and the media provided cover for him. Plaster his name and face everywhere until he's arrested.

Whoever exposed him thank you for doing the lords work

64.media.tumblr.com

64.media.tumblr.com

Hey, this is the son of a bitch who killed that poor man Neely on the train in New York. Don't let him walk away from this.

this is where he currently lives at the moment just in case you need to run up to his place and protest there

Update Current address: 108 Milligan Rd West Babylon New York 11704

Number: (631) 661-5952

[all-the-things-2020]

Deeds Not Less Valiant - Chapter Five

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Tala Pavan)

Rating: PG

Summary: Din and Grogu return from Mandalore. Tala and Din start to realize they might have feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3000+

Notes: Not a lot of action in this chapter but lots of feels. Tala and Din are getting soft and squishy inside.

Tala was haunted by Din’s face. Her first reaction had been permeated by Grogu’s sadness, but now it was her own emotions that confronted her. She knew she was fond of Din. He was gentle and kind, despite the fearsome exterior, and she considered him a friend. Now, she felt something more than mere friendship. There was something about his eyes, a soulfulness that radiated out of them that spoke to her. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, his slightly wavy hair cried out for her fingers to run through it. Yes, his patchy but neatly trimmed beard begged for a kiss right on the little bare spot along his chin. And yes, his broad shoulders promised hugs that would banish so many of her demons. But it was his eyes that haunted her. The thought of such depth and emotion hidden from the world behind a helmet …

Forget about it, she told herself. After the way Din had stormed out, she wasn’t even sure if he’d want to continue her time with Grogu, let alone get to know her better. Maybe it was for the best. 

The next Benduday, Neeli parked herself near the door and waited for Grogu. But the door never chimed. Tala finally lured her away with some freeze dried bantha snacks she usually reserved for bribing her to get her claws trimmed. Afterward, Neeli pouted in her basket, refusing to come down all day. 

“I understand,” Tala said, turning away from the grumpy tooka. “I miss them, too.”

It had only been a week, but she was already thinking of her time with Grogu as the “good old days.” It was ridiculous, but there had been a true connection between the three of them. Four, if you counted Neeli, which she was sure Grogu did. The child was desperate for a pet, someone his size that he could play with, and had latched onto Neeli immediately. She remembered how gentle Din had been with the tooka and her heart clenched. Neeli was afraid of men, but she’d seen something in Din that allowed her to trust him.

“I blew it, didn’t I, Neeli?”

That night, Tala cried herself to sleep for the first time in years. 

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

The following week was bland and colorless. Tala went to work and did her chores, dragging herself through the days. Neeli was also down, refusing to play with her toys and spending much more time up in her basket. Tala knew it was temporary, that time would ease the sense of loss, but for the moment, she had to get through it. She’d had her trust and affections betrayed before; everyone had. It was just part of life. 

When Benduday rolled around, Tala got dressed but didn’t bother to do much with her hair. She’d done her shopping on Taungsday and there wasn’t much in front of her except some housecleaning and trying to tempt Neeli to get some exercise.

The door chimed and both she and Neeli jumped. Neeli chirped a question and trotted toward the door, her tail up for the first time in days. “Do you really think it’s them?” Tala smoothed the worst of her stray hairs down as she walked toward the door.

:Neeli! I brought a toy!:

Grogu bounded inside, waving a brightly colored furry womp rat with a bell attached to its tail.

“Hey, kid, good to see you,” Tala said.

:Yes. We went to Mandalore. Dad has a new ship!: Neeli pounced on him and Grogu collapsed in giggles.

“And you, too,” Tala said shyly.

“Sorry we didn’t make it last week,” Din said. “We were … out of town.”

“Grogu says you went to Mandalore.”

Din nodded. “We did. I’m sorry, but I missed last week’s meeting with Greef. Can we talk more when I get back?” He handed her a small device. “I meant to give this to you last time but …” He cleared his throat. “It’s a private comm. I would have called you, let you know we weren’t coming.”

“It’s fine,” Tala said, taking the comm and slipping it into her pocket. “Go to your meeting. There will be plenty of time afterwards.”

“Be good, kid,” Din said as he left. Grogu didn’t hear him, too busy tumbling around on the floor with Neeli. Din sighed. “He missed her.”

“She missed him,” Tala said. “So did I.”

Din’s helmet tilted. “I’ll explain everything. I promise.” Then he was gone.

Tala sat on the couch and watched Grogu and Neeli play. He floated the womp rat into the air and Neeli leapt up to catch it. Sometimes Grogu let her get it, but mostly he kept it just out of reach, and soon they were both out of breath and ready for some cuddly time on the couch.

:So, you went to Mandalore: Tala prompted.

:Yes! Dad talked to the armor lady and Bo. And we got a new ship! It has room for the starfighter. And you can come next time. Dad said.: Grogu leaned against her side as he stroked Neeli’s fur. He was already getting sleepy; she could sense it in his thoughts.

:Next time?: 

But Grogu had dozed off.

Tala gently laid him down and stepped into the ‘fresher. She busied herself arranging her hair into something more attractive. What did Grogu mean by “next time?” And who was Bo? She’d seen the “armor lady” before in Grogu’s memories, but there had been only a fleeting image of a woman in armor, without a helmet, her red hair neatly bobbed. Whoever she was, Grogu liked her. 

The thought struck her suddenly. Maybe Din was married. Or engaged. This sudden trip to Mandalore may have been because of her seeing his face. Had Din needed to atone for that? Was letting someone else see his face a form of cheating? But why would his wife (or fiancée) be on Mandalore while he and Grogu lived on Nevarro? 

Stop jumping to conclusions. Din had promised to explain everything, and once Grogu was up from his nap, he might have more to share. Be patient. She stared at her face in the mirror. “You can do this.”

Grogu slept for a good half hour, curled up against Neeli, his hand resting on her fur. Tala did a bit of cleaning, but her heart wasn’t in it. When the child yawned and sat up, she forced herself to walk calmly over to him.

“Have a good nap?”

:Naps are always good. If they’re my idea.: 

:Very true.: 

Neeli stretched and then snapped back into a ball. :Neeli’s still sleepy:

“Cats sleep more than humans,” Tala said. 

“Ya.” Grogu nodded. :Dad is happy that I can talk more. He told Bo.:

Tala chose her words carefully. “I don’t know who Bo is.”

:She has red hair. She’s in charge of Mandalore. She takes her helmet off all the time. She gave me some peppers.:

“Is she a friend of you and your dad?”

“Ya.” Grogu’s ears pricked up. :Dad takes his helmet off now. Just for me! I can’t show you.:

“That’s okay,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked about it last time.”

Grogu’s ears drooped a little. :Dad was upset.:

“But he’s not upset anymore,” she assured him. 

His ears drifted back up. “Ya.” He cocked his head. :Snacks?:

Tala smiled. She wasn’t going to get much more out of him, that was clear. She pulled out the box of cookies she’d bought the week before, hoping they weren’t stale. Evidently not, as Grogu demolished four of them in record time. The crunching woke up Neeli and once the cookies were gone, they returned to their play.

So, Din was removing his helmet in front of Grogu now. Bo was “in charge” of Mandalore and was Din and Grogu’s friend. But would a small child be able to differentiate between friendship and romance? Or perhaps it was a political arrangement. If Bo took her helmet off all the time, she must be part of  another faction of Mandalorians. Maybe she and Din represented an alliance between the two groups. There were many stories of princes and princesses being married off to total strangers for political reasons. Was that why Din lived on Nevarro?

Stop it, she told herself. You have no proof that this Bo is anything more than just a friend. After all, Grogu said the helmet was just for him. It was all very confusing. She’d have to wait for Din to return and explain everything.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. When the door chimed, Grogu and Neeli stopped their game. “Da!” 

Tala pressed the door lock and let Din in. Neeli was wary but didn’t retreat all the way to her basket. 

“I brought some namba patties,” Din said, holding up a small packet. “Thought Grogu might be hungry.”

“He was, until he ate four cookies,” Tala said.

:Hungry again. Always hungry.:

“But he says he could still eat.”

Din chuckled. “I’m sure he can. There are enough for each of us. I’ll … eat mine later at home, but please, help yourself.”

“Thank you.” She pulled out a couple of plates and poured a cup of water for Grogu and the last of her morning caf for herself. “So, Grogu told me a little. You went to Mandalore. You have a new ship. You take your helmet off now.”

Din fidgeted with his glove. “I should apologize first for rushing out last time,” he said. “I wasn’t upset with you, or with Grogu. I just needed some time to process.”

“I understand.”

He sighed deeply. “The thought that Grogu’s only memory of my face was one of grief and sadness was devastating. I remember my parents — my birth parents — when they left me. They were scared. They were sad.” He paused. “But I have other memories of them. From before. Grogu didn’t have any other memories of me. And he’s going to live for such a long time. Knowing he might have centuries ahead of him and only one image of me … I had to speak to the Armorer.”

“The armor lady. That’s what Grogu calls her.”

“She is the leader of my tribe, the Children of the Watch. She is the one who taught me the Way of the Mandalore. I have always trusted her judgment.”

Tala nodded, giving Din the time and space to tell the story the way he needed to, even though she had a million questions.

“When we arrived, I left Grogu with Lady Bo-Katan and went straight to the Armorer. I told her of my conflict, my crisis of faith, and she counseled me. There was a time when she would have firmly told me that removing my helmet would make me cease to be a true Mandalorian, but now … things are different. Since our tribe joined with that of Lady Bo-Katan, since we took back Mandalore, the Way is a little less rigid. The Armorer said I should think on it and follow my heart, which would show me the Way that was best for me.”

“And that way is to let Grogu see your face,” Tala prompted.

“Yes,” Din said. “He is part of my Clan. He is my son. There is no one closer to my heart than him, and I must do what is best for him.”

“I’m happy for you both,” Tala said. And she was, truly. It was just … “Grogu mentioned Bo — Lady Bo-Katan, as you call her. He says she’s in charge of Mandalore.”

Din nodded. “Lady Bo-Katan Kryze is the leader of our people. She’s … a bit prickly at first but she has the interests of Mandalore at heart. She has softened her stance toward my tribe, just as the Armorer has softened her stance toward hers. I’m not sure why but the two of them meeting has been immensely important for the future of Mandalore.”

“Grogu says she’s your friend. She gave him peppers.”

Din laughed. “Dank farrik, the kid will eat anything! She took him to check on the hydroponic gardens.” He paused. “She’d like to meet you. That’s why she offered me the new ship. A small freighter. My starfighter only seats one human.”

“She gave you a ship just so you can bring me with you?” 

“She’d like to talk to Grogu. So would the Armorer. And I’ll be doing some cargo runs for Mandalore, in addition to my off the books work for the New Republic. The ship wasn’t exactly free.”

:Bo called you dad’s girlfriend: Grogu chimed in. :It was funny!:

Tala’s face went hot. “Grogu … he said Bo called me your girlfriend and it was funny.”

Din tilted his helmet. “You shouldn’t have repeated that, kid,” he said sternly. “I”m sorry. Bo-Katan has an … interesting sense of humor. The Mandalorians of her tribe are not as serious as those in mine. Just as stubborn and proud, but more sarcastic. She was teasing me. It had nothing to do with you personally.”

“I understand. Friends can be aggravating at times.” 

“I don’t have many friends,” Din said slowly. “Comrades and colleagues, yes, but true friends? I have sworn to serve Lady Bo-Katan until her song is finished, but I don’t know if I would consider her a friend.” 

“What about me?” The words were out before Tala could stop them. 

“You are a friend,” Din said firmly. “To me and to Grogu.”

Tala nodded. “And you are friends to me. I … don’t have many friends either. At least, not here on Nevarro.”

There was an awkward silence, then Din cleared his throat. “We should be going. I’m sure you have things to do.”

“And I’m sure you want to eat your namba patty before it gets too cold,” she replied. “Unless you’d like me and Neeli to take a little walk, so you can eat it here?”

Din shook his head. “I’m still getting used to taking my helmet off at home. I don’t think I could remove it somewhere else. Maybe next time.”

“I understand.” She stood up. “Well, you two had better get home then. Same time next week?”

Din nodded. “I’ll comm you if there’s any change. Sometimes we get called away.”

:Adventures.: Grogu nodded solemnly. 

“Be careful on your adventures,” Tala told Grogu. “Look after your dad.”

Din swept the child up in his arms. “He always does. We’re a good team, aren’t we, kid?”

“Ya.” Grogu followed up with a burp.

“We’re still working on manners,” Din said dryly.

Tala smiled. “Have a good week.” As the door slid shut behind them, she turned to Neeli. “That went well, don’t you think?”

The tooka yawned and leaped onto the table to look for crumbs. “Grogu’s not the only one who needs to work on manners,” Tala said. Neeli merely flicked an ear in her direction and Tala didn’t have the heart to scold her. Din and Grogu were back in their lives.

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

“Maybe next time?” Din mentally shook his head. What was I thinking? Removing his helmet in the privacy of his own home, in the presence of his clan member, was one thing. Blithely offering to remove it somewhere else, even if he was alone with Grogu? Idiot.

Grogu made an enquiring sound. “It’s nothing, kid,” Din said. “Just thinking about something dumb I said.” He sighed. “I’m not used to having a friend. Someone who is just a friend, I mean.” It was true. Most of his relationships with others had some goal in mind: completing a mission, finding a job to pay the bills. There was always an implied contract of some sort. Help me do this and I’ll help you do that. That’s how things had started with Tala, a simple arrangement. Watch my kid and you get to practice your telepathy. Keep him out of trouble and I’ll pay for the snacks. Now, it was something more. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the dynamic had changed.

“How do you even know what a girlfriend is?,” he asked Grogu. The child blinked, puzzled. “You told Tala it was funny that Bo-Katan called her that. What do you know about boyfriends and girlfriends?”

Grogu shrugged. Din sighed once more. The only way he could find out would be to ask Tala to mediate and he certainly wasn’t going to do that. He’d seen the flush of heat in her cheeks, thanks to the thermal sensors in his helmet. Grogu’s comment had embarrassed her. It had embarrassed him, too. He’d have to remember that just because Grogu couldn’t physically speak, it didn’t mean he didn’t understand every word he heard. And he wasn’t shy about repeating things. 

“I know you like Tala,” Din said carefully. “But you can’t just tell her everything.” Grogu’s ears drooped. “There are some things that are just between you and me, okay? Especially anything anyone else says about Tala. Or anything I might say about her.” 

Grogu nodded. His ears drifted back up. “I really shouldn’t even be talking about this with you,” Din continued. “You’re far too young to understand. But I can’t talk to Greef about it. He’d be worse than Bo-Katan.” Greef appreciated a beautiful woman as much (or more) than the average man, and wasn’t shy about making his feelings known. He took rebuffs in stride, although now that he was well off and had a measure of local power, they were far fewer than before. “I don’t even know if I want anything more than friendship. That sort of thing just hasn’t been an option for me.”

It helped to talk to Grogu, even though he couldn’t answer. It was better than letting the same thoughts spin round and round in his head, like a massif chasing its tail. Matters of the heart had never been a priority before. For the first time in a very long time, Din felt as though he wasn’t just surviving; he was living. He shared that life with Grogu, and it was good. But maybe there was something more for them both. 

[themirokai]

Hey you! Person who follows me! Did you follow me for general writing stuff? Are you interested in good writing advice from an actual professional?

Check out M. Neely Proofreading:

Morrisa’s got a blog and a newsletter with fantastic writing tips. I’ve used their proofreading services before and they’re fantastic!

Check out the site! Sign up for the newsletter!

[monster-madame]

Gargoyle Monster Romance

Ok, monster lovers! Time for a review!

Susan R Neely has been writing monster romances and has *quite* the backlist. I found the author through her book, “Carnage (Whispers From the Bayou Book 1).”

Set in the early 1900’s, this is a sort of classic Beauty and the Beast Tale. The heroine is more of the “pure kind princess” variety than the “kicking butt and taking names” type of heroine we see a lot.

This is a classic retelling of Beauty and The Beast (complete with a possessive monster who gets told off and called to the carpet).

Carnage is a gargoyle who has seen battle, and who also has trouble speaking words (dictation, etc). I appreciated how the author utilized different types of communication in this story, as well as avoiding a good number of pitfalls fantasy authors stumble into around speaking disabilities.

I do like how Neely builds up a community of characters (using a literal community for monsters, called The Whispers), and this is a good nighttime cozy read for folks looking for something sweet and maybeeeee a little stereotypical.

Thinking on why I felt prompted to share THIS book, I think it’s the literal community of support the author has built for her monsters. The monsters show camaraderie and friendship, a good showing of positive masculinity. I appreciated how the author wove in other characters, without being obvious about setting up future books. Kind of reminds me of the work of MomoLady on tumblr!

But, hey! Tropes exist because we love them! ;)

Book HERE! (Affiliate ad link)

As always, reblog for more book reviews! 😘