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binxyu · 3 years

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He was obsessed with the beauty of colors. Even if he could not see them without you, he adored the way they showed up on his canvas. His biggest fear was losing them and, with that, you. Too bad his biggest fear came true...

>>Pairing: Park Seonghwa (dom) x fem!reader (sub) ft. Jung Wooyoung | artist!seonghwa x photographer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.8k

>>Genre: Mini Series (Pt.2) / Requested / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Arguments, begging, breast play, cumplay, fingering, hair pulling, marking, photographed nudity, praise, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, spitting, and unprotected sex

<- previous part

The museum felt so dull and empty without Seonghwa’s works in them. It had been months and you had yet to see one new work from the artist.

You knew you should’ve moved on by now, especially due to your photography career soaring.

Everything was going perfectly. Everything but your love life.

Wooyoung was now just your friend and the person you thought was your soulmate was no where to be found.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you missed Seonghwa’s touch and the spark it brought to your skin more than the color of his eyes. You just missed him.

Now, you were realizing that maybe colors weren’t as essential as you thought.

The auction had started hours ago in that same museum, your photographs up for sale among many art pieces. You had been struggling so much after your soulmate’s disappearance that your rent was way past due and the only option was to sell your work.

And what shocked you the most was that your old photographs were selling much faster than your new ones. The old ones that were entirely in black and white.

As you looked at them, truly analyzing everything about them, you realized why. Those photographs were candid, an ethereal way of showing your pain.

While they were dull to you, they told a narrative to everyone else.

“So, can you pay your bills now?”, a smile spread across your lips when you heard the familiar voice, turning around to see Wooyoung standing there.

He looked good. A suit on to hug his curves and his soulmate clinging to his arm. They really were perfect for each other.

Basically, the story of the two was that they were tied to one another by red strings and they had found each other while you were with Seonghwa.

It made you sorrowful when you realized that meant Wooyoung had known the entire time you weren’t meant to be together, but those feelings quickly disappeared when you saw how happy he was.

“Yeah, I might even have some money leftover for groceries”, you grinned and Wooyoung shook his head, patting your’s as he stared at the final photograph you had left after the auction was over.

It was your most recent work and you knew it was probably too dispirited to catch anyone’s attention. Yet, you still brought it with you. The meaning of the photograph was too important to not bring it along with you.

In the photograph, you were there with your back to the camera surrounded by items that you believe represented how heartbreak felt. The light of the sun was shining through the window on your curled up form and it looked awfully dull the more you looked at it.

A loveless life is dull.

“Buy yourself a nice meal then. Wait, get a good meal and then travel. You’ve been in Seoul your whole life. Maybe it’s time to get out of here for a while”, you had actually given that some thought. What was even keeping you here? Was it the idea that maybe you’d get Seonghwa back?

“I’ll plan a trip to Jeju soon. I’ve always wanted to take photos of the ocean there”, Wooyoung grinned from your words, thinking you were finally moving on with your life. The trip was more of a distraction than anything else, but it wasn’t entirely a lie. You had always wanted to take photos there.

“Want help getting the most affordable tickets? I know a guy”, there was that business man you had dated before. Wooyoung traveled all the time so of course he could find the most affordable pricing.

“No, I’m going to do this on my own. Thank you though. I’ll see both of you again soon”, the woman and Wooyoung nodded, giving you a small wave as you moved to leave the museum, your photo tucked in your bag to keep it safe.

However, something caught your eye and had you rooted to the floor.

There, hidden behind some of the tarps for the auction was a new painting. One with the initials PS on it.

You quickly moved to take a look, noticing quickly the familiar beauty and chaos that was your soulmate’s art style. In the center there was a girl and you immediately knew it was you.

Holding up your photo, it was almost an exact replica. The only distinct difference was that Seonghwa’s painting had hope in it. It was just another painting to everyone else, but you realized quickly that the tiny painting painted on the wall in the art was the one you made together.

Except, it seemed glued together. Like it had been ripped to spreads only to be put back together like a puzzle.

“Oh, Seonghwa. I’m so sorry”, before you could stop yourself, your fingers were tracing the painting, memorizing every edge. It was so despairing aside from that glued painting.

You snapped out of it and forced yourself to leave, slipping your photo back into your bag as you tried to contain your tears.

The walk to your apartment wasn’t a long one. You had purposely chosen one close to that museum because you knew that was where you belonged.

You opened the door, greeted by Bruce, your tiny Pomeranian you had been given. Wooyoung’s soulmate believed he was the key to getting over your loneliness and, while you loved the black and white fluffy dog, you weren’t exactly sure if that was true.

He barked and you crouched down to pet his head, watching as he smiled and tilted his head just so you could scratch the perfect spot. A laugh fell from your lips as you moved to sit down on your bed, setting up your computer on your lap.

“Want to go to Jeju with me?”, Bruce just barked and you took that as a definite yes.

Your plane had landed a few hours ago and you had quickly found your way to the beach once all of your belongings were in the hotel you were staying in.

Bruce walked beside you as the wind blew through your hair, the sound of the waves filling your ears.

As you approached the middle of the beach, you saw a man painting along the shoreline. His brush moved in quick strokes along the canvas as he stared out at the ocean.

It made you smile seeing someone else so deeply into art here.

Then, you realized why he had chosen this spot to paint.

The sun was setting and it was right at the spot the artist was looking at. The vast array of colors was right above the ocean.

You instinctively got out your camera and took a photo of it. You looked at the shot to see that you had accidentally gotten the artist in it and, while it did add some depth, you refused to take photos of others without permission.

As your finger hovered over the delete button, you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see the artist staring at you, your world suddenly going grey.

“Seonghwa?”, the name felt paradoxical. It was filled with sadness but also happiness.

The man’s eyes found your’s and both of your worlds were colorless.

Bruce tugged on the leash, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in.

“I missed you”, his voice croaked, tears welling up in his eyes as he looked you over. While he couldn’t see the color of your skin or the rosiness of your cheeks, he could tell you were doing well. You were healthy and that was all that mattered.

“Sorry”, it was all you could get out from the emotions clouding your thoughts. You turned to walk away, gripping the leash in your hand tighter as you tried to quickly get away.

You yelped when Bruce started running back, pulling you along with him until you were standing so unbearably close to Seonghwa. Your chest was almost touching his as your dog rubbed against his leg.

“Why are you trying to run again?”, you looked down at the sand below you. Seonghwa could finally see you in all your glory as the colors came back since you weren’t looking.

The only thing he couldn’t do was look into your eyes. That’s what he wanted most.

“I’m tired of running so I get it’s cowardly, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m just so confused”, you spoke honestly and looked up, trying to be brave and finally face your problems. Especially when the main one was right in front of you.

“I think I found some answers. I’m going to assume you saw my painting”, of course he would know you did. His painting flooded your head and you were thankful you took the time to memorize all its bold features.

“I did. Our painting?”, it felt wrong to say our in reference to the painting you two made while you were in love. It wasn’t like it was in your studio.

“Do you know why I glued it back together?”, you searched his eyes for an answer other than hope but you could not find one.

“Hope?”, Seonghwa chuckled and put his hands gently on your shoulders, looking for any sign that he should remove them before he continued.

“More than that, I found answers. It was a test. A test we sadly failed at first, but maybe there’s hope to pass it now”, Seonghwa bent over and picked up Bruce to keep him calm, petting the puppy’s head as he waited for your response.

“What test?”, the artist smiled and your heart swelled at how hopeful it was. He really wanted this to work.

“It’s a rare test that some people with our connection have to go through. We have to look past the outside and into the inside. Basically, we have to keep loving without the colors”, it seemed so simple coming from the man’s mouth. He seemed so excited and, yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about the ifs.

“Will we be able to see colors again? I don’t want to take that from you”, it was true. You could make it without them because your black and white photos sold faster than your colored ones but Seonghwa needed those colors in his paintings. He needed those brilliant shades in his work.

“Some got it back and others didn’t, but I can do without them as long as you’ll look at me”, his voice dripped with aggressive honesty, no room for argument on your side. You nodded as you let the information seep into your mind.

“Let’s start with this”, he pointed at Bruce and the dog licked his cheek, making you giggle. Seonghwa grinned when he heard the noise. He may have missed that most of all.

“That’s my son Bruce. My friend gave him to me”, you pat the dog’s head and Seonghwa nodded, stroking the puppy’s back before he set him back down on the sand.

“Try painting?”, the question made your head spin as you looked over at the easel, shaking your head immediately.

“I’m definitely not a painter. That looks way too good to ruin”, Seonghwa shook his head and took your free hand in his, walking you towards the place his art supplies were. There it was, that spark that went through you when you touched.

“If I do this then I get to teach you how to take a proper photo”, you put your pinky out and his hearty laugh made your cheeks turn redder, not that he could tell.

“Deal”, his pinky wrapped around your own and that was a promise made. The first of many.

“Okay, pick up a brush and let’s start”, you looked down at the many brushes along the bottom of the easel and you just grabbed one. You have never painted before and it really showed.

“Maybe not the biggest one I have”, he chuckled and took the big brush out of your hand, getting a much smaller one and putting it into your hand.

“Okay, lets try to paint around the sun”, Seonghwa gestured first to the painted sun he made and then the real one across the ocean. He purposely looked away so you could see the colors, forcing himself to keep his eyes off of you.

You collected a little bit of the lavender-tinted paint on his palette and started to paint. Seonghwa looked over at the canvas and chuckled, watching how messy you were making it.

“Like this”, he came up behind you and his big hand encased your’s, guiding you to smooth out the paint. His chest was pressed against your back and the last time you two painted together came back, causing your hand to shake a little nervously.

“You’re doing well. Don’t be nervous”, Seonghwa smiled and you should’ve known he would’ve thought your shakiness was because of the painting. Well, it was but not this specific painting.

“Okay, do we move onto the next color now?”, the man answered with a simple “yes” and he let go of you. While he enjoyed being so close to you, he did want to see you do it yourself.

You did exactly what Seonghwa had done before but with orange this time, the color reminding you of a tangerine as your brush moved across the canvas.

“It’s simple when you get used to it”, that comment made you laugh, turning to look at the man.

“Seonghwa... this is a sunset. The shit you paint is much more complex”, you shook your head and went back to painting despite the lack of color now there. He was staring at you.

“Did we go too fast? Is that why this happened?”, your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about it. You two really did go fast. As soon as you had found out your destiny, you dropped everything and ran off with Seonghwa despite not knowing much about each other.

“Do you think it’s a trick to get us to get to know one another?”, it sounded ridiculous coming out of you, but it did make sense.

“Probably. Does that mean nothing is wrong? We can still be together?”, you grimaced at the overly complicated question.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out I suppose”, you tried to get around giving him a definite answer because you truly didn’t know. The whole situation was so confusing and you had to curse the universe in your head.

The rest of your painting was silent. Seonghwa played with Bruce in the sand as you focused on the art. You were slowly realizing why the man loved painting so much.

It was peaceful and away from the harsh reality around him. He could create whatever world he wanted on this little canvas and there was no limits. No limits like you had created.

“Pretty good for your first go”, Seonghwa commented as he looked over your work. It was a tad bit more messy than if he had done it but it was impressive.

“I have a good teacher”, you teased and smiled, feeling proud of doing something out of your comfort zone.

Your entire life had been a routine of activities and places you were familiar with. Now, the world felt boundless. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel.

“Well, it’s your turn to be teacher now”, the man poked your side and you would’ve did it back if Bruce wasn’t desperately pulling on the leash.

“Come with us? I can once Bruce is back in the hotel. He’s tired of the outside now”, you chuckled as the puppy barked at you as if to agree. Seonghwa nodded and walked beside you down the beach and down the path to your hotel.

Once the dog was back in your room, you followed behind Seonghwa. He had mentioned a beautiful hiking trail not too far from here. You were realizing that he had probably been here the whole time. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had run away.

“So, what is your favorite animal?”, your head turned to look at the man, the question making you laugh softly. It was true that you didn’t know that about each other. Maybe this walk would be good to actually know one another.

A scream tore through your throat when you were thrown into the lake, your clothes clinging to your wet body.

You glared when your head returned to the surface, the freezing water biting at your skin. Seonghwa just laughed, waving your camera in the air like it’s just some flimsy piece of paper.

“Be careful with that!”, you scolded him and he immediately stopped, like a puppy that was found eating the furniture.

“Sorry sorry, but look how good it turned out!”, you swam over to the rock below him, leaning up on it like a mermaid peering up at her human prince.

He crouched down and showed you the photo. It was a photo of the exact moment your body had penetrated the water, the waterfall right behind you. It was beautiful.

“Now who’s the good teacher?”, you teased and Seonghwa moved to lay on the rock, looking into your eyes.

“You are. I genuinely love photography now”, he chuckled and it felt like the world had stopped as you look into each other’s eyes.

“It’s a screenshot but for reality”, you giggled and lifted yourself up with your hands, placing a little kiss on his forehead.

“Do you have anything I can change into?”, you asked as you realized your shirt was doing very little to cover your upper body now.

“Just take this”, he helps you out of the water and respectfully turns around, taking his hoodie off and passing it to you.

You put the hoodie on and it engulfed your smaller form, going down to your knees because of how oversized it was.

“Okay, you can look now”, Seonghwa nodded and turned around to face you, trying to hide his smile when he saw how adorable you looked.

“Ready to go back? It’s probably midnight now”, Seonghwa motioned to the moon shining above the trees. You stood there staring at it for a moment before you nodded, letting the man take your hand in his as he guided you along the path.

It was your last day in Jeju, a daunting knowledge that had you awake before even the sun rose. It had already been a week but you didn’t feel like it was enough time.

Your feet sinked into the sand as you hurried to try to get a clear photo of the sunrise.

You eventually found a bolder to set up on, sitting on the cold surface once your camera was out. It was so peaceful but also eerily quiet.

Well, until a certain someone found you.

“Hey, come to see the sunrise too?”, Seonghwa came to sit by you, his arm wrapped around you as if you were going to fall off the rock.

“Yeah, I was wondering how beautiful it must be if the sunset is as gorgeous as it was”, you nodded and felt a weight on your shoulders, the need to get everything out. To figure it out.

“Last day, huh? Aren’t you leaving in the morning?”, Seonghwa watched you nod and he pouted, that cute little pout that made your heart melt.

“Yeah. Actually, why don’t you come back with me?”, you looked at him, hope in your eyes ever present.

“I would but my friend is sick here. I have to be here”, so he didn’t run off. He was running to help someone in need.

You nodded understandingly, your mind trying to come up with something but only silence filled the air.

“Hey, before you leave, I wanted to ask something. Was there anything I could’ve said back then to make you stay?”, you knew what he was referring to. After the colors left, you had run off and drove to your apartment, not even looking back.

“Honestly... no. I was so confused and scared. I just wanted you to have it all and if that meant breaking your heart then I was okay with it”, a sigh left your lips, feeling guilt fill your stomach.

“I think I would rather be completely blind then lose you again”, the confession caught you off guard and you turned your entire body to face him.

“Like I’d ever let that happen”, you shook your head and Seonghwa cupped your face in his hands, looking over every feature he could. He wanted to remember it all when you were gone.

“Like I’d let you stop me”, he was so serious that it made you gulp, your heart pounding against your chest. He leaned in and finally closed the gap between you, his lips molding with your’s perfectly. Sparks erupted through both of your bodies and it caused your body to shake as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His hands trailed down to your waist, waiting for any protest from you before he moved them to your ass, squeezing the skin under your panties. The dress you were wearing did the bare minimal of protecting your lower body from the man’s hands. Not that you minded one bit.

Seonghwa pulled away from the kiss, looking up at you as he pulled you into his lap. His expression was filled with so much raw emotion, nothing hidden.

“Do you want this? Do you want us?”, the second question lingered in your mind. How would this work? You had no idea. Especially when he was stuck on this island, but you knew what you wanted.

“Yes, I want you, Seonghwa. But, you have to keep painting. I need to see your work in the museum”, Seonghwa chuckled and nodded, pecking your lips as he snuck his finger into your panties, moving it up and down your slit to collect your wetness.

“Here’s the catch though, you’ll have to go to other museums to see them. Get out there, princess”, you huffed in annoyance and the man smiled teasingly. After a week, the black and white world became comforting. It was simply a sign that Seonghwa was only looking at you.

Maybe the world was black and white because colors would only distract you two from what mattered. It wasn’t how brown Seonghwa’s eyes were. It was how caring he was or how he made you laugh. That’s what is important.

Seonghwa pushed two of his fingers inside of you, scissoring your cunt open as his other hand lifted your dress up to reveal your breasts. He almost wanted to scold you for wearing no bra, but your breasts looked way too perfect under the moonlight for him to care.

A whimper sounded in your throat when his fingers started to hit that spot inside of you and you felt a cold substance on your chest. In the center of your torso, Seonghwa had spit and his tongue was now trailing up it to your breasts. His lips wrapped around the bud and sucked, only furthering your pleasure as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

It felt so perfect and right. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces and it oddly reminded you of the painting you two had made together. Glued together like a puzzle.

“You’re so beautiful and smart. You’re just amazing, okay?”, it was definitely more of a statement than a question but you nodded, a vibrant smile on your face. With Seonghwa, every insecurity felt minuscule. Nothing mattered but how you both felt with your bodies against each other.

“And you’re just as amazing”, a soft moan mixed with the words and that only made it more impactful. Only he could have you making those sounds.

“You want more?”, the gentleness of his voice made a shiver run up your spine. Not even the openness of your actions could bother you.

“Please, give me more”, he read your meaning loud and clear, taking his fingers out of you. It felt so empty without them there but you knew something better was coming.

He unzipped his pants, letting your dress fall back down. He pulled his jeans and boxers down, letting his cock free and your mouth practically watered at the sight.

He moved your panties too the side, in too much of a hurry now that the sun was finally riding. You spread your legs and sunk down onto his dick, your head falling back blissfully as it stretched you out.

“Shit, I forgot how big you are”, you whined, moving your head into his neck and he licked the skin of your neck before he started to suck on it. Without his real canvas here, he would have to recreate the artwork you two had made on your skin.

“And i forgot how tight you are. Wait, let me make sure”, you could practically hear the teasing tone in his voice as he bottomed out in you. His hand moved to lift your dress up a little, showing off the bulge in your tummy.

“There it is. Look how good you take it”, Seonghwa sounded so proud as he stared at it, moving his hips a little just to watch the bulge move.

“I only will take your cock. Only your’s”, it was so validating to hear you say that as your hands found their way into his hair, running through the messy locks, “you can move, baby”.

He didn’t need to be told twice, his hips moving up and down as you bounced on his cock. The angle from being on top had you already moaning, joyful tears welling up in your eyes as bliss overtook your body.

“Princess, look”, neither of your paces faltered as you turned your head to look at the sunrise. You smiled once you saw all the colors surrounding the sun. Light shun upon your bodies slowly and the warmth felt amazing.

“Wait! The photo!”, you looked over at your camera which was sitting beside you and you stopped bouncing to grab it.

“No, let me”, Seonghwa smirked and took the camera, holding it out to your side. Your bodies were perfectly in view of the lens and you blushed as he took the photo, your naked bodies now in your camera roll.

“Now, whenever you look at a sunrise you’ll think of me”, he grinned and you playfully slapped his chest before you took the camera and took an appropriate picture of the sunrise.

You put the camera down and looked at the man again, his eyes meeting your’s.

“Hwa...”, your voice faltered when you saw something unfamiliar.

Orange. Purple. Red.

Right on your soulmate’s skin.

“You- you see it too?”, the sunlight shining on both of your skin was now visible even if you were looking at one another.

“Yes! Fuck, you’re so pretty”, you couldn’t help but say, tears spilling down your cheeks as you took in everything about him again. The gentle tan of his skin, his rosey lips, and even the color of his veins.

Seonghwa’s thumbs gently wiped away your tears before he tugged on your hair to bring your lips to his, his hips slowly beginning to move again. You moaned in his mouth, rolling your hips to meet his as you felt his dick rub against your walls.

“I love you”, you whispered against his lips as you felt your orgasm building up. Seonghwa smiled, a beautiful smile you had missed in all its glory.

“I love you too”, his cock twitched inside of you and he started to rub your clit, your pussy clenching around him in response to the stimulation.

“Cum together?”, you asked, resting your forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath.

“Be together? No matter the distance?”, you didn’t expect him to answer with more questions, but you knew your answer to them and you knew his answer to your question.

“Always”, you nodded before you felt your orgasm run through your body, clenching around the man as your cum coated his cock.

Seonghwa had the decency to pull out of you, releasing on your thighs and stomach. He really was going to make you his new canvas.

His fingers smeared the seed on as much skin as he could get to and you giggled, shaking your head.

“All I know is that you better answer every single one of my calls after this”, you became painfully aware of the vulnerability of being seen now. Seonghwa chuckled and gestured to the ocean.

“And you better get that cum off of your skin before the early birds get here”.

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bettsfic · 4 years

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how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline

when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.

for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres.

i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost.

background

2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail

2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer

2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer

2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns

2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant

2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal

2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom

2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)

2013: discovered fandom

2014, age 24

this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down.

but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.

i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income.

2015, age 25

i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found.

when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.

i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.

it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1.

in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.

2016, age 26

the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.

in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.

i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha

in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.

2017, age 27

i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done.

a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown.

2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.

2018, age 28

early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown.

in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.

in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby.

i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.

as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.

2019, age 29

in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.

i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while.

i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.

my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.

near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.

i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting.

my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.

i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.

in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.

in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.

2020, age 30

i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.

the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit.

when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.

the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.

like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus.

when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them.

i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed!

so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.

totals

word count: 2.3 million

agent queries: 77

agent MS requests: 9

agent rejections: 28

agent no responses: 44

short story submissions: 86

short story acceptances: 3

short story income: $25

total submission/application fees: $1472

my (final) query letter

honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.

Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.

ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.

In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.

Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.

Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.

If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.

what comes next

i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.

meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall.

the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.

overall thoughts/stuff i learned

first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.

reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped.

i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war.

probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you.

with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.

#writing advice #the writing life #writing update

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naturepointstheway · 4 years

Text

Faith in a Futile Hope (Life is Strange 2; Parting Ways)

Post Parting Ways ending, takes place up to fifteen years after the events at the border. May or may not have a second part. Daniel attempts to look for his brother in Mexico, knowing all this time that the plan is doomed to fail from the beginning.

Also, constructive feedback well-appreciated; using this as testing grounds before AO3, just to see if people think it goes too fast or too slow or something’s missing. (Also, to see if anyone catches what Sean’s trying to do with his drawings he’s sending to Daniel.)

All I can think of to tag is @msmooseberry, but hmu if anyone else wants to be tagged in future LIS2 fics as well. :)

When they take off Daniel’s ankle bracelet shortly after his 21st birthday, naturally, his first instinct is to take off to look for Sean in Mexico—and he would, but he resists.

He’s smart—he knows this is exactly what the government expects him to do—

So he doesn’t.

(The hell it’s hard not to just buy a plane ticket and go.)

Instead, he fantasises about the day he reunites again with his brother—he’d find him the moment the plane’s wheels hit tarmac, the moment he exits the terminal, and all would be well again.

(Sean still sends letters to Beaver Creek—all redirected now Daniel’s moved back to Seattle. Shit. What’s worse—Sean clearly refusing to imagine Daniel perished in the 2020 plague, or Daniel never being able to assure him for real?)

He has faith that Sean still loves him—even after Daniel leaving him alone at the border—but where is he? Faith and fantasy alone cannot guarantee him ever finding Sean in Mexico.

(He believes anyway. It’s what keeps his hope alive.)

He can wait another year.

He can.

Fuck, it aches to walk past travel agencies or see internet ads boasting cheap holiday plane tickets. He could walk in, or click an ad. Just one step or click and—

And he would cave in, he would book a plane to Mexico on the spot.

And so he doesn’t.

A year passes.

He’s now twenty-two—

And still he resists.

God. It’s torture.

He blocks all travel websites, avoids streets where there are travel agencies. It’s so bad, he’d sooner pass a church that looks eerily like the one in Havenpoint, than trust himself to walk past any travel shop.

Only one envelope from Sean this year—

A drawing—

Of Cassidy and Hannah with a herd of rather adorable-looking llama-like animals behind them. Underneath, Sean had written: “Vicuñas! Warm and fuzzy and stupid adorable.”

It’s not cold comfort, but nor warm and fuzzy, knowing at least Sean isn’t entirely alone. That at least he can see the old gang from Humboldt County.

Lukewarm. Lukewarm comfort.

He lets the weeks and months plod on by, he buries himself deep into his first year of university.

A degree—he really doesn’t care much for his studies (Cs get degrees, as the saying goes), but at least it keeps him distracted enough from just flying off to Mexico.

And so another year passes.

Twenty-three, he still doesn’t quite let himself go yet—

Maybe they’re still watching and waiting, expectant. But it’s been two years, hasn’t it? If he goes, he might not end up leading them straight to Sean.

But…what if he did?

It would be his fault, his doing.

They’d capture Sean, throw him behind bars, probably for life.

All thanks to Daniel.

So he resists, still. The agony is beyond unbearable.

But there’s no way he’s leading the government to Sean—he doesn’t trust them, ankle bracelet or no ankle bracelet.

At least Chris is there to distract him—he’s always there for him. Thank god.

Maybe he’ll go next year, but not this year. It’s too soon, too early.

He wakes up with a start on August 15th—Sean would be thirty now.

Thirty to Daniel’s twenty-three.

He’s never felt so old in his life. He’s twenty-three, and Sean has missed out on being there for all his milestones (so far anyway), for all his teen years.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of other people who still had their older brother around. If only he’d never taken Sean for granted.

“I took you for granted, and I’m sorry!” Those words from so many years ago still haunts him.

Unlike Sean, he can’t say sorry for doing the same too.

If only he knew where Sean was now.

If only.

Another couple of drawings and a little photo from Sean: the drawing of a glorious waterfall catches his eye, and he practically frames it on a wall, it’s that stunning. Underneath is written: “Angel Falls—the highest waterfall in the world.”

The other drawing is of a group of adorable little monkeys (“Capuchin monkeys” is written underneath) feeding and resting together. It’s actually quite sweet.

But it hurts all the same. At least Sean’s not wasting his life in a 9-to-5 job that has, amazingly, not yet stolen Daniel’s soul.

It hurts. And he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a healthy dose of jealousy too.

Still, he waits, biding his time still, waiting for the right moment to go.

And so another year flows on by.

Twenty-four, and he still doesn’t know where Sean is, though he knows he must be alive somewhere.

For Daniel receives a couple of photos and a drawing; the photos both have generic blue skies and tropical greenery in the background, nothing that would identify him as being in any particular country.

The drawing—coloured in this time—is of a couple of yellow flowers; one has a little bee perched on a petal. Underneath are two words: “Ipê-amarelo.”

So where is he?

Is he in Mexico?

How will Daniel find his older brother again?

What plan does he even have beyond “take a plane to Mexico”?

How is he going to do this?

These thoughts stress him so much he gets the old nightmares again.

Of cults, of Lisbeth, of Sean with glass in his eye, of borders and vigilantes who hunted them.

Of being trapped in burning churches, being forced to endure punishment for his “sins”, of being trapped in a prison cell and not knowing where he is.

Chris insists that he has to go to Mexico, if not to give him some peace of mind, to give him something in his search. Surely by now, the government has moved on.

Chris tells Daniel he hates to see him in so much internal torture over going to Mexico or not—and he must. It’s not healthy for him to keep forcing himself to stay here in the USA, always wondering, never searching.

Sean would not want him to torture himself like this—

The road is scary, and Daniel is too comfortable in his little corner of the USA to venture outside.

He’s not like Brody, nor his mother, nor his brother—he has little desire to brave it out and travel.

The traumatic journey from Seattle to the border of Mexico all those years ago hadn’t helped matters at all.

But if he stays here, he’ll forever wonder if Sean is in Mexico, or elsewhere.

And so maybe Chris really is right, he really should go to Mexico.

If but for the peace of mind, to let him go on the journey he has to go on. Even if he doesn’t find Sean, at least he’ll know he tried.

So he finally caves in. He books a plane for next year—2032.

It is now 2032—he goes in August, books in a holiday for two weeks, the second-to-last day not-so-accidentally coinciding with Sean’s birthday.

Surely, two weeks is enough time to drive around Mexico (he can rent a car and just drive around the place), and somehow run into Sean.

Mexico isn’t a big place, at least not compared to the United States. But Daniel wonders if Sean is even still in Mexico; it’s been fifteen years, he could have gone anywhere.

Surely he’s wandered far from Puerto Lobos by now—maybe he’s just as likely in Canada as he is at the tip of South America, where only the wide cold ocean separated him from Antarctica.

But at least for now he has to believe, has to hope that Sean’s still somewhere in Mexico. It’s a big, big planet, and he doesn’t know if he has enough bravery to go through dozens of foreign countries just to look for his brother.

It was one thing for Sean to look for him in Nevada—at least that was a place, one next door to California—but at least he’d had an idea where Daniel was at the time.

Now? Daniel may as well throw three darts at the world map and pick the first three countries to try to look for him.

Mexico was as good as any place to start—it made sense anyway, seeing as Sean had always wanted to go there.

He could only hope that he wasn’t about to waste two weeks and a few grand only to find no sign of Sean.

He lands at Aeropuerto Internacional de Ciudad Obregon, and it isn’t the most flattering of places, the little town where he ends up staying for a couple days, but at least he’s here in Mexico. The buildings are sparse and plain, and there is little greenery to see, but the sky is as blue here as it is in Arizona across the border. The houses make him think of matchboxes and lighters and little motels huddled away in some isolated corner of Nevada.

If only he could have taken his own car down here, but he couldn’t, so he’d had to rent one for a fixed price per day—at least his office job back in the States paid him enough to be able to afford this. He can’t exactly live in it like he’d seen people do, but it gives him something to work with regardless.

He can’t help the anxiety that overwhelms him as he navigates a language not his own, but a language that was his father’s and his brother’s. Part of him wants to smack his past teenaged self for refusing to ever learn Spanish, after his brother had tried to use him to cross the border. Instead, he had learned French, much to his grandparents’ delight—both had learned French as high-schoolers back in the day, and were more than happy to help him out, even if they were a little rusty.

Now French was next to useless here in Mexico, and Daniel doubts that Sean was in France or in some other nation like Canada where French was one of the main languages.

Ironically, Chris had been the one to learn Spanish—he would’ve been a very useful presence right now.

Nevertheless, at least Daniel is in Mexico, and Puerto Lobos is not far away, Daniel being able to make his way northward, toward the same border Sean had crossed so many years ago.

Maybe he’s in Puerto Lobos, he hopes, even if some part of him tries to reason that after fifteen years, he might not even be there anymore. Or…maybe he’s moved somewhere along the coast?

Mexico was a bigger place than he had realised: perhaps its small size compared to the US had somewhat tricked him. Its border alone touched four states from west to east: California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. It wasn’t exactly a small island nation stranded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

But no way Daniel was going to give up—and so he made his way up the west coast, the Gulf of California appearing and disappearing from view depending on what road he ended up on. Maybe, just maybe, he would see Sean along the way.

He can’t help but stop for a good part of a day at Punta Chueca, walking barefoot in the warm sand, the sun hot on his shoulders (it was tank top weather), sitting down at midday to have lunch, and then—fuck it—might as well have a swim too. At least he’d brought along swimwear just in case. He ponders the island of Isla Tiburon, which looks so close he imagines he could just swim right across to it. And he wonders if Sean might be on this island too, but he wants to stay on the mainland, keep going up the west coast.

It’s sort of a blessing that the places he passes through are so small, and it shouldn’t be that hard a task to find Sean, if he was still here. And that was a big if.

At least he’s now less than a day’s trip away from Puerto Lobos.

Puerto Lobos greets him with soaking sunshine, lulling bright blue ocean that melts into the cloudless sky, and a tan, sandy beach that seems to go on forever. It is a lot smaller than he expected it to be; somehow, Sean had made it sound like this big, wide world where he could just get lost and never be found again.

Instead, it’s a little village, perched on the coast of Mexico, forever gazing out at Baja California that appears nothing more than a hint of land like damp watercolour smudged across a blue canvas. There is one little hotel here, with just a few rooms and one staff member who does all the things, but Daniel doesn’t mind. At least he can stop here for a day or so, and drive up and down Puerto Lobos to look for Sean.

He doesn’t know why it disappoints him so deeply when he doesn’t find Sean at all—he’d even shown the photo to some people, and they’d all shrugged or shook their heads, not recognising the man with the black glass eye. Did Sean even still have a black glass eye, or had he replaced it with another colour, or even something that more closely resembled his remaining eye?

It doesn’t take long before Puerto Lobos’ width and breadth is exhausted in his search, but Daniel doesn’t let himself give up—yet. He still has another week or so; nevertheless, he spends the self-same night just staring at a map of Mexico, drawing with bold marker how far he’s been now.

It isn’t that impressive. It’s barely even much of the west coast, and this fills him with a sense of something dropping into the pit of his stomach, and he lets his head rest on the map, closing his eyes, feeling he could just fall asleep here from sheer exhaustion and burn out.

I can’t possibly search all of Mexico in two weeks…how am I supposed to search the world?

He wishes that Sean had at least sent a hidden address to their mom’s P.O. Box, but then he might have forgotten it, or hadn’t wanted anything more to do with Karen. Daniel had asked Jacob through Sarah Lee again and again, but Sean had never sent him an address either.

Nobody, not even their mom, seemed to have an idea where Sean was—not even a cellphone number to call.

It really, really wasn’t helping at all—and he knows now that it would take nothing short of a miracle to find him; if he can’t find him in Puerto Lobos of all places, then where the hell could Daniel look for him?

He doesn’t go any farther north than Puerto Lobos—he doubts that Sean would’ve wanted to be anywhere near the border.

And so Daniel returns to Ciudad Obregon, and he has but a few precious days left to venture southward this time, but with less enthusiasm than before.

He’s not going to find Sean.

He’s never going to find him here—

He could be anywhere in Mexico or the world—if Mexico felt so vast and endless now, how would South America, much less North America and Canada, then feel to Daniel?

This planet is just…way too big.

The towns south of Ciudad Obregon remind him again of the ones he’d seen farther north, and agriculture dots the landscape everywhere he looks. Daniel is sure Sean would never live in many of the little villages he passes through, but he keeps his eyes out anyway—

And suddenly, it’s time to go home—

He hadn’t even covered the entire west coast of Mexico.

When the 15th August comes around, Daniel has given up the search, and instead chooses to spend his day around Playa Huatabampito.

He wishes he could enjoy the palm trees, the setting sun, the lapping waves, and soft, cooling sand as much as the beachgoers here.

But he cannot, because now it’s all over.

It’s over.

Two weeks.

He had failed to find Sean.

All that money he’d wasted on a childish hope, a fantasy only found in fairy tales and fiction.

Today was Sean’s 32nd, and Daniel had failed to be there to surprise him for his birthday.

What a stupid, foolish man he was, to have fallen for his own naïve hopes and dreams—

The dream he’d find Sean in Mexico was as real as any he ever experienced in sleep. He’d fallen for his own stupid naivety, so gullible to believe and fall for his own convictions.

Of course he wasn’t ever going to find his brother. Mexico was way smaller than the USA, but that didn’t mean he’d find Sean any easier. Fuck. He could be anywhere on the fucking planet.

Would Daniel have to search the literal ends of the world for even the tiniest hopes of ever finding Sean? How many years could that take?

Either way—he had failed.

Maybe it would have been better if he’d never tried.

He should give up—there was a reason reunions between long-lost relatives happened only in movies and children’s books. Besides, would they even recognise each other now? He’d forgotten Sean’s voice.

Daniel stares out at the watery sun sinking into the distant horizon, drowning in the ocean, helpless. The otherwise soothing rhythm of the lapping waves does nothing to console him. It only hurts, thinking how in another time, in another life, he could’ve been here—or hell, in Puerto Lobos—enjoying the warm Mexican summer with his brother, perhaps even sharing a beer and pizza together.

But no.

He was alone now.

He’ll never see Sean again. Ever.

Daniel fumbles around for the sketchpad and pen he’d been carrying around since he’d landed here in some stupid hope that just having them in his backpack will give him la suerte—the luck—he needs to find Sean.

Placing the sketchpad on his crossed legs, he opens it to a new blank page, settling back against the lone palm tree behind him. He clicks the pen, a stark image of a lone little wolf cub howling at a bright full moon burning in his mind’s eye. After a few false starts, he begins sketching, the ghost of a wolf form emerging on the page. The world around him collapses to the wolf, like it was the only thing in existence, but for the whoosh of lapping waves, the wind striking his bare arms, and the soft warm sand under him.

When he finishes the sketch, he taps his pen on the page, thinking of a title to go with it. After a few seconds it finally comes to him, writing three words under the wolf’s little paws:

“The Lone Wolf”.

He stays very still, staring at the lone wolf cub howling at a cold, uncaring full moon. A drop of water blots the wolf’s front paw. He tears out the page, closing and dumping the sketchbook on the sand next to him.

“I—I wish I knew where you are. But now I know. I’m never gonna find you.” Daniel swipes his hand over his eyes. “You could be anywhere—and—we wouldn’t recognise each other anyway, right? I don’t even remember your voice anymore, Sean. I’m not even sure how to feel about that.”

It’s weirder still to think that the last time Sean had heard his voice, he still had the high lilt unique to a child’s. Or that his face was forever ten years old in his memory.

Daniel had grown into a full adult man, and yet, in Sean’s memories, he’s forever frozen in time as the ten-year-old he’d left behind. Sean had never seen him grow up into teen-hood, never had the chance to tease him when his voice broke, nor joke that he’ll never be as tall as Sean, nor ever make fun of the scant “beard” he managed at best. He never even saw him dress up for his first prom, go on his first date, discover his sexuality, or even graduate. To his surprise, his high-school graduation had felt bittersweet—yes, his grandparents and even his mother had been there, but…it was still not right for Sean to be absent, to not be there to be proud of him, to see him graduate high school.

Whether prom or graduation, he’d have given anything to have had Sean around.

Now, Daniel had not only robbed himself of having his older brother around, he’d also robbed Sean of watching him grow up into the young man he is today.

God.

It’s—

It’s enough to make him want to scream at the unfairness, to shout “Why?!” at the deaf, mute fates, to make him want to sob until his throat is raw, until his tears dry up and leave him an exhausted, shaken mess.

And so he—

And so he curls up into a ball, pressing his lower back into the tree trunk, pulling his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his arms, only the silent shuddering of his shoulders betraying his state. He feels the paper flutter from between his fingers, but doesn’t care. Let it fly over the sand, roll into the waves, disintegrate in the foam—like he cared.

It didn’t matter anymore.

He’d never, ever see Sean again.

It’s not like he can repeat his teen years over again, so what was the point? He was twenty-five, what more could Sean miss, short of engagement and marriage and graduation from university?

What even was the point if Sean wouldn’t even see him cross the stage for his undergraduate degree? If Sean would never see him marry the love of his life? If Sean would never see him promoted in some nebulous dream career?

They’d all be tainted with the knowledge he had robbed Sean of seeing him grow up, seeing him succeed in life—

All because of a second of impulse, a moment of panic, of not wanting to hurt anyone else—not even the policemen at the border who would have killed him and Sean without remorse.

And now he knew: he had no choice but to give up.

And now tomorrow…

Tomorrow, he will return to the USA, none the wiser about Sean’s whereabouts in Mexico, let alone the whole world.

#Life is Strange 2 #LIS2 #Daniel Diaz #Diaz Brothers

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mass-hxsteria · 3 years

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Next time (#3 in series)

August 2017

The phone vibrated against the table; it’s relentless buzzing distracting Leon from the conversation with the son sitting across from him. The man tried hard to ignore it, keeping himself as engaged as possible with Philip’s story. Though they had spoken on the phone a few times, too much of this morning was spent in awkward small talk, neither of them sure how to approach the unique situation they were in. Now, finally, Leon had gotten his son talking, walls slowly diminishing as they got to know each other. Leon glanced briefly at the slew of missed calls as he silenced this one, trying to be subtle about his shift in attention. He tried to keep most of his focus on Philip, despite the gnawing agony of ignoring a work call. They would find someone else. This was the first time in 12 years this kid was speaking face-to-face with his father. How could he just leave right away? They had the whole weekend planned and this was only the first day. He barely began to push work from the forefront of his mind until, yet again, moments after the last ignored call, the phone began buzzing again.

“It’s okay. Just answer it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll just be a second.” Leon answered the call, listening to the demand as he left the restaurant. As suspected, he was asked to come in. “Is there really no one else that can cover the surgery? Or can the appointment be pushed off? I’m across the country right now. Even if I get a flight, I won’t make it in until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning it is then. We really need you to come in. We talked about this. You knew this was a chance when you left.”

“Right, okay, fine.” Leon sighed. He had known, but--maybe it was just wishful thinking--but the chances seemed so low. It felt worth the risk at the time that, if it happened, he would at least have had more time with his son first. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Leon hung up the phone, shaking his head, dreading going back in and telling Philip he had to leave right away. He knew having a relationship with his son wasn’t going to be easy, especially with him living in Boston and Philip and Elizabeth in Chicago. Still, he hadn’t expected it to go sideways quite so quickly. This weekend had taken weeks to plan and Philip had been so excited. Leon had too. Now, it was only going to last a few hours. If this was any indication of visits to come, he didn’t have a good feeling about it. He didn’t want to be the type of dad that only visited with his kid for a few hours a couple times a year, not after coming into Philip’s life so late.

He walked in, flagging down a waitress to ask for to-go boxes for the lunch, and pulling out his wallet as he made his way back to the table. “I’m so sorry dude, that was work. I’ve got to head back to Boston tonight.”

“Oh...” He had expected Philip to be disappointed. What he hadn’t anticipation was just how crushed he would feel himself, seeing the disappointment on his kid’s face, knowing he caused it.

“I know. I’ll come back next month and it will be longer, I promise.”

November 2017

Leon collapsed on the small airport chair, relaxing after hours of airport security. He pulled out his phone, seeing multiple missed calls from Elizabeth. His heart sank, there was no chance this could be good news. He opened his voicemail. “I’m sorry, Leon. I hope you’re not on the plane already; I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. My parents just came out to surprise Philip. I had no idea they were coming. They live so far, they can’t get out here much. I know you know what that’s like, but...” A long pause, a distant sigh. “Well they actually showed up.” There it was, Leon thought, the real reason she didn’t want him coming out. “Anyway, I tried to explain that he had plans with you and to let me know next time, but, well, you know how they can be. And I don’t want to send them all the way back to Florida just so he can spend half a day with you.” He leaned his head back, eyes shut. He knew Elizabeth was tired of Leon always disappointing Philip; she was the one who saw it more often than he did. What she never seemed to grasp was how difficult this was for him to. “I hope you understand. We’ll see you next time. Hopefully.”

January 2018

6AM Flight to Chicago - canceled

11AM Flight to Chicago - canceled

2PM Flight to Chicago - canceled

8PM Flight to Chicago - canceled

Leon tried to glance out the window, but all he could see was a sheet of ice. It was no wonder the flights were canceled. Stubbornly refusing to let this happen again, Leon began looking up routes to Chicago. Maybe the skies would be bad, but the roads could be better. 15 hours of driving time. The blizzard might add a few, but if he drove all night...

“Are you insane!?” Within seconds of Leon texting her his thoughts, Elizabeth was calling him and was, apparently, not pleased. “If it’s that bad out, stay there. You’ll get yourself killed if you try to drive out here.”

“I’ll be fine. It’ll clear up at some point.” He paused, sighed. “I can’t miss his birthday, of all days.” He admitted in a rare, vulnerable moment with his ex, unable to hide the dejection from his voice.

“He’ll understand. He’ll be disappointed, but it’s better than you doing something stupid. We’ll just make it work next time. Just be safe today. I know it’s been hard, but this will get easier.” Though short, this was the first real conversation he felt like he had had with Elizabeth this entire time; the first time it hadn’t ended in an argument. They managed to keep things civil in front of Philip, but he hadn’t yet brought himself to forgive her for what happened. She also never never quite forgave him for wanting to get rid of the kid in the first place.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right...” Her understanding tone throwing him off enough that he couldn’t help but agree with her. Still, he was starting to lose hope. In these past few months, Leon had yet to feel like anything but a failure of a father. He thought, not for the first time, that maybe he was right 13 years ago. He wasn’t cut out to be a father. Looking at the worsen blizzard outside, he briefly wondered if this was nature’s way of agreeing with him. He couldn’t bring himself to fully admit to her that’s why he was trying so hard, but he suspected she was starting to realize that herself. With a sigh, “Can I talk to him? I want to tell him myself.”

June 2018

Almost one year had gone by since the phone call that had completely changed Leon’s life. Despite only one truly successful visit and many mishaps, the man could easily say he wasn’t the same person since finding out he had a kid. His phone calls with Philip grew more frequent and more plans were being made. Even though things were slowly getting easier, he still always wished he had more time with his son. Thankfully, that was finally going to change by tomorrow. With Philip out of school for the summer, they had planned for him to fly out to Boston for two weeks. He was straightening up the apartment when he got a call from Elizabeth. He had expected this. The past few weeks her calls grew more frequent with questions, making plans, making sure Leon knew what he was doing before she let their son stay with him, that he was responsible enough for this.

“Hey. I’ve got everything all ready to go here. I’m picking him up at the airport at noon tomorrow, right?” He asked, but was greeted with a long pause. His face fell as he awaited the explanation.

“Philip broke his arm. He was out skateboarding with some friends and had a bad fall. He’s going to need surgery and he’ll be in a cast for a while. After that, physical therapy... I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to reschedule. With him healing, it might not be for a while.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’s in some pain, but it was a clean break. He’s a little upset about not being able to get out there. I know you were both looking forward to this. Maybe we’ll try again in August.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out. Just keep me posted on how he’s doing, alright? I’ll look at plane tickets and try to make it out there to help out before his surgery.” What he was most upset about was that he couldn’t be there for his kid during all this. He opened his laptop to look up flights to Chicago, but even then, what would that accomplish? If he was going to have trouble for a while, would Leon being there for a day really help at all? There was one other option: something that had been in the back of his mind for months now. He booked a flight for the next day and then switched gears, looking for apartments to rent in Chicago as well as jobs for plastic surgeons. With Elizabeth still on the line, he explained his thoughts, “I’ll be out there tomorrow. There’s something else I want to do while I’m there, but I’m going to need your help.”

To be continued...

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jackstoney · 6 years

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My relationship with the “abusive wife”

Maaaaan this is gonna be a loong explanation, but with the recent shit that has been going down between her and her current husband, I feel like I have to speak up, just to give further context that this woman IS indeed very manipulative, if not straight up abusive… I can personally attest to it.

Now, I don’t wanna breach her privacy too much, because I feel like all people deserve at least some privacy, and i’m not sure if she’s ever said her real name on here, so I’m gonna refer to her as Mel for the remainder of this post.

I had been friends with Mel for over 3 years before we started dating. I met her when she was 14, and I was 16… for those 3 years we never really did much other than talk to each other and draw each other art, but we were still very close, and I never felt as if she was an abusive person whatsoever because she never really exhibited that type of behavior… all I knew is that she was VERY childish, but again, that didn’t really bother me.

March of 2017, I ask her to be my girlfriend… It didn’t happen right away because her mother wasn’t to sure of me, considering the fact that we were merely online friends (and she was also 17 at the time, only a month away from being 18) But eventually, we ended up as a couple on Saint Patricks Day.

A couple months pass, we’re staying up really late talking to each other pretty much every night, sending each other things in the mail, just doing regular shit that couples would do in long distance relationships.

In May 2017, her mother buys me a plane ticket to Ohio so that I could visit her for 2 weeks for her high school graduation, it was pretty much her “graduation present.” I ended up flying from California to Ohio all by myself to meet this girl who I thought I was in love with, but this is where things start to go downhill….

Mel was a very, and I mean VEEEERY clingy person. She barely ever left my side, barely ever let go of me in general, constantly wanted to kiss me, said “I love you” every 15 minutes… In the beginning this didn’t really bother me, but after 2 straight weeks of this constant behavior it became VERY exhausting.

Along with the clinginess, came her childishness. She was VEEEERY childish, despite the fact that she was 18 at this point, not 14. She had a stuffed dog named Andrew that she legitimately pretended was one of her best friends and constantly carried around as some sort of comfort, which kinda weirded me out because I would think that an 18 year old DOESN’T need to carry around a stuffed animal with them at all times. There was also the time when me and her went to Build a Bear workshop together and I made her a Rocket Raccoon plush, which I jokingly started calling “our son” because we made him together. Well, she got REEEALLY into that and pretty much turned it into a serious thing… that was when I started to feel legitimately uncomfortable.

I remember, for like the entire last week of our visit together, every single night in our hotel room i’d have to just lay in bed and comfort her because she would constantly cry about the fact that I was going home in “Just 1 week” or “Just 4 days” and so on. She had a hard time living in the moment and focusing on the fact that I was still there in that moment, and instead focused on the fact that I was leaving soon. Even though I loved her at that point, and wanted to comfort her, I couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the fact that this was a CONSTANT THING for an entire week… Just laying in bed, listening to her cry, clinging to me and not letting go for hours… it was just an uncomfortable experience.

About 2 nights before I had to leave, I had a panic attack in our room due to some personal issues, and i’m prone to anxiety so those tend to happen. Melissa wanted to hold me and constantly say things to me, but when i’m anxious those types of things do not help me AT ALL. I had to tell her multiple times in a shaky voice “Mel, when i’m feeling this way, the best thing to do is leave me alone and let me get through it”. Well… Mel didn’t like that very much. She began to breathe heavily, seemingly out of nowhere, and she said “I’m sorry Jack, I don’t know if this is gonna work out… I don’t think this can work” Then suddenly curled up into a ball and started profusely hyperventilating… I don’t like to sit here and claim this because i’m still not sure, but I feel like she was faking a panic attack to manipulate me… the whole thing seemed very forced. It was as if she had a fake panic attack just to turn everything around and make me comfort her… I kinda just had to force myself out of my panic attack (which didn’t entirely happen, I was still panicking) and tell her to breathe deeply, which somehow got her panic attack to end almost immediately… it was very fishy.

The day finally comes where I have to leave, of course she cried her eyes out in the airport, I get on the plane, make it back to california, yada yada.

But then… once I get home, she decides to send me this VERY long paragraph about how mad she was at me because she pretty much thought I was talking shit about her behind her back because I wouldn’t let her look at my phone. The reason I wouldn’t let her look is because, instead of asking, she would randomly try to peek at what I was doing and I would turn my phone away from her because I wanted her to respect my privacy. I ALWAYS respected hers. This caused me to stop talking to her altogether for a while.

When I got back to california, I was dealing with alot of life problems. I was constantly looking for a job to pay rent, and I ended up being very depressed for almost a month after the trip ended because I felt like life was going downhill… and I also found myself kind of ignoring melissa because she wasn’t making me happy at that point, and because of the whole privacy thing. I was only able to associate her with clinginess and annoyance because of what I had experienced in her presence. So, with that, on July 9, 2017, I broke up with Mel. but I had to send her voice messages to do it because I KNEW that if I did it over a call, she would freak out, hurl insults at me, and use her signature line “You knew what this was going to do to me, and you did it anyways!” basically manipulating me into feeling like the bad guy because I was having life problems and couldn’t even take care of myself enough to constantly babysit her anymore.

2 months pass, I end up missing her alot, and I message her again. I pretty much give in and act like the bad guy in the situation to get her to forgive me.. I literally cried my eyes out to her over the phone she was eating that shit up, hurling more insults at me as I cried to her over the phone how sorry I was. She told me that, after we broke up, I caused her to do the following things: -Use my Old Spice shampoo that I left in Ohio because it reminded her of me, but it ended up destroying her hair

-Burnt popcorn in the microwave and ended up calling the fire department because she was scared

-Acted like a zombie and started incorporating traits of my personality into her own, pretty much turning into a “Mini Jack” because she missed me

Just… so much bullshit. She’s the worst at coping with things and actively does things to make the coping process worse for herself, yet she’ll just blame it on the other person.

Eventually, things settle down, we become friends again, but… Dillon is back in her life, and she was thinking about dating him again. Yes, Dillon is her current husband which went missing recently.

Throughout the next month, she went back and forth between dating me and Dillon because she was indecisive… and eventually, I grew so tired of it that I decided to just break everything off entirely and tell her that i’m done dating her for good. That apparently sent her into multiple panic attacks and caused her to go to the hospital (or so she told me… most likely a manipulation tactic) and again just resulted to hurling insults as me… and so, that ended my association with Mel. I broke everything off with her entirely, didn’t even wanna be friends with her anymore. I was done.

Literally only a month after I stopped talking to her, she got engaged to Dillon. I had no idea that they had even gotten married yet, and I had no idea that their marriage was even going this bad… last time I heard, they were doing just fine together… Dillon was apparently the love of her life, and even Dillon was happy with everything.

Now, Dillon was never personally nice to me, so I was never that fond of him, but now realizing that Melissa has been possibly even WORSE to him than she was to me, causing him to want to run away without saying a word…. I feel his pain. Honestly I hope he’s able to escape the marriage somehow unscathed, because knowing Mel… she’ll probably do everything in her power to fuck up his life. She’s very petty in that sense.

Anyways, long story short, Mel is not a good person to be in any type of serious relationship with. I hope I was able to convey everything properly, and there are some things I left out of this because I don’t wanna completely destroy Mel’s reputation, despite her being an abusive person, and for the privacy of others as well. There is really so much I could say about her to completely destroy her. But just be aware, she’s not a good person. She has major problems… Actually, major is an understatement.

#hufflepuff-rave #abusive #manipulative

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isitgintimeyet · 5 years

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Letting Go

AO3

Thanks for your comments and support for this new story. I really appreciate it.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge and @happytoobservenolongerdistant

Chapter 2: Homeward Bound

And each town looks the same to me The movies and the factories And every stranger's face I see Remind me that I long to be Homeward bound I wish I was Homeward bound

Simon and Garfunkel

The subdued ping indicated that the captain had switched the seatbelt sign off and it was safe to walk around the cabin. Not that Jamie had any intention of doing that. The luxury of a business class seat meant that for once, he didn’t have to spend the entire flight with his legs folded and his shoulders hunched, trying to somehow fit into the space allocated to an economy passenger. No, for this entire flight, he planned on stretching out on his wonderfully reclining seat as much as possible, preferably with a glass in his hand.

He sipped his glass of champagne and wiggled his toes appreciatively, now clad in the soft sleep socks provided by the airline. The business class ticket from Dulles back to the UK was an indulgence, but, for once, Jamie felt he deserved it. Eight years he’d been away in America. Eight years with only fleeting trips home, little time to spend with his sister and her ever-expanding family. But the breeding programme he’d been working on in Kentucky was now inextricably linked with the breeding at the Lallybroch stables, providing much needed stability for the Fraser family business. The time was finally right for him to return home, back to Lallybroch for good.

His father’s heart attack, six months before, had made Jamie realise how much he was missing and how much he wanted to come home. Although his father was now making a good recovery, Jamie’s stomach turned over as he remembered the panicked phone call from his sister Jenny in the middle of the night and the mad dash to the airport for a plane, any plane to bring him across the Atlantic and then to Scotland. That heart attack had been a bolt from the blue, catching the whole family unawares.

Jamie’s mind began to wander. If things had been different, maybe she might have picked up some symptoms, detected the heart problem earlier. No... he stopped his traitorous mind from going down that path.

Accepting a top up of champagne from the passing steward, Jamie thought about his plans. Once he’d caught up with his family, he knew he had to spend time reconnecting with his old friends. He had kept in touch over the years -- emails, the odd FaceTime conversation, a fleeting visit -- but it was never the same as actually being around all the time, dropping by for a coffee, a quick pint or dram in the pub, making last minute plans for a run. He had a lot of time to make up.

There was one connection from eight years ago that Jamie knew he would not be looking to reestablish. When he first arrived in America, he thought about her all the time. He lived in a state of expectation, convinced she would ring or email, admitting she had made a mistake and would come to him. He caught glimpses of her in every crowd, only to be disappointed when he got closer. As time went by, his disillusionment grew until he finally accepted she would not be reaching out to him. So he trained himself never to think about her, never to wonder what she was doing, never to ponder on what might have been. And if, after a couple of drinks, he found himself tempted to Google her name or search through social media, he quickly sought out alternative diversions.

There had been a few alternative diversions during Jamie’s time in America. All very willing and pleasant enough, but ultimately very one-sided. Each one ended with no regret or sense of loss on his part. His heart had healed nicely and he intended to keep it that way.

As the cabin lights dimmed, Jamie pulled the blanket over him and settled down for a nap. As he was pulled deeper and deeper into sleep his mind wandered, random images crowding his brain… horses in a field… his father relaxing in his study… light reflecting through a whisky tumbler… being put to bed drunk… the scent of lavender hand cream… soft hands against his cheek… a mop of brown curls on the pillow next to him…

Awake, Jamie could stamp out these thoughts, prevent them from taking root, but asleep, well, his mind would not let him forget.

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

Claire had been pleased but not a bit surprised by Mrs. Fitz’s powers of persuasion. A little chat with Lamb over a couple of cups of her cherished Fortnum and Mason Royal Blend tea, poured from the Royal Palaces bone china teapot (purchased on a recent trip to Kensington Palace) had convinced him to rent out the house for a maximum of two years, at which time his finances should have returned to a healthier position.

With that battle won, Claire then encouraged her uncle to contact all the creditors and agree monthly repayment plans. All this was dependent, of course, on finding tenants for the house.

Although she decided not to say anything to Lamb, she was still worried. Their house, even in an appealing suburb of Glasgow, was an acquired taste. On the one hand, the high ceilings, elegant sash windows and very large garden would be attractive to prospective tenants, but the downside was the sheer size of the six bedroomed Edwardian villa and its associated running costs. It was true what she had told him, most of the similar properties in the vicinity had been converted into blocks of flats frequented by young professionals. She still believed the logical decision was to sell. However, that was not her choice to make.

The reaction of the letting agent did not inspire confidence either. After he was shown around the entire house, making copious notes and taking many pictures on his phone all the while, Claire waited patiently while he appeared lost in thought, contemplatively sucking air through his teeth. Finally, he quoted a figure suitable for monthly rental before issuing a caveat.

“Ye ken, this may no’ be that easy tae rent out. It’s an awfa big house, sae many bedrooms. Would mebbe suit a family wi’ five or six bairns, and ye dinna see many of those around these days.” He sighed. “We’ll do our best… but would ye no’ consider selling? There are builders who would jump at the chance tae own a property like this.”

Claire smiled, her most reassuring smile guaranteed to calm the nerves of patients and their loved ones. “I’m sure you’ll do your best, Mr. Shand. I have every confidence in you.”

********

Claire’s confidence seemed to be misplaced. A fortnight went by before she heard from Mr. Shand again. She was at her desk dictating patient letters when Mr. Shand rang her with an update.

“Ms Beauchamp, jes’ tae give ye some news,” he began. “I have had some interest in yer house and I’m arranging a viewing. I dinna ken if ye wanted tae show them around or leave it tae me?”

“Well, if I’m free I’d be more than happy to do it. Depends when it is.” Claire reached for her large desk diary.

“They said they would like tae view this Saturday, afore the rugby if possible.”

Claire flicked to the page. “That seems to be fine with me. Who are they? Is it a large family?”

She could hear Mr. Shand flicking through papers in the background. “Weel, no. It’s jes’ a couple. What drew them tae yer house is the garden. They have been living abroad for a few years but are returning home and want a place near the city centre but wi’ a bit of green about them. Perhaps they feel they will miss the wide open spaces, ye ken. Anyway, I believe they are no’ long married. Their name… Fraser… Mr. And Mrs. Fraser.”

Suddenly Claire felt the contents of her stomach rising up. Swallowing hard to quell the nausea, the phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. Scrambling to retrieve it with fingers refusing to cooperate, she could hear Mr. Shand calling her name.

Breathlessly, she managed to pick the phone up and speak, her voice hoarse. “Sorry, Mr. Shand, I just dropped my phone. I’m sorry, I was looking at the wrong date. I’m afraid I won’t be at home on Saturday after all. Sorry, could you do the honours?” She cringed at her repeated apologies.

Claire folded her arms on her desk and rested her head on them, trying to calm her breathing. For god’s sake, it had been eight years, she would not have expected him to remain celibate. Getting married was not unusual and it would no doubt make bringing a partner to live here much easier from an immigration point of view. But did he not recognise the address? Had he forgotten all about her, or did he just not care?

Sitting up straight, she tried to think logically, not jump to conclusions. She lived in Scotland, where the surname Fraser was not exactly rare. There must be thousands of couples with that name. It wouldn’t be her Fraser.

Claire had not even thought about him in the past few years. Gone were the days when she lay in bed longing for his touch, sleeping with her phone on the pillow in case he rang to apologise. Her heart never skipped a beat when she caught a glimpse of fiery red hair in a crowd of people. She never found herself religiously watching Scottish rugby matches wondering if, across the Atlantic Ocean, someone else was watching too. She only kept his faded old rugby shirt because it was so comfortable to sleep in… there was no other reason at all.

Claire was a honest person, she prided herself on it. And she was… very honest… at work, with friends, with her uncle.

The only person she regularly lied to was herself.

#outlander fan fiction #outlander fanfic #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #Letting Go #chapter 2

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holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight · 5 years

Text

The Bodyguard - Chapter 4

Summary: Magnus is a dancing popstar sensation whose popularity continues to climb. Alec, an ex-Secret Service agent, is hired on as a professional bodyguard in charge of Mr. Bane’s personal security by insistence of Magnus’ manager. Despite their initial differences, Magnus finds himself falling for Alec the more time they spend getting to know each other and relies on him for more than physical security as his safety gets threatened. Loosely based on the 1992 film The Bodyguard.

Rating: M

Genre: AU, Everyone is Human AU, Celebrity!Magnus, Bodyguard!Alec, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining

Author: holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight

A/N: I made up the instagram users so apologies if they belong to anyone! If you wish for me to remove any, please let me know. Otherwise - thanks so much for reading!!

Click here to read on AO3.

Previous chapters on tumblr: Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Alec flipped through various articles as Magnus was quiet next to him. It wasn't entirely unusual during their flights but he often chatted with various members of the team about whatever he had on his mind, asked questions about their lives, or got them pumped about the next city stop.

It was his head lolling to Alec's shoulder, almost startling him, that made him realize his silence was due to Magnus being asleep.

He couldn't help himself from inhaling the sandalwood smell now that Magnus was so close to him. It was nice. Calming.

Alec continued his searching, trying to find someone who might make sense as Magnus' stalker. Someone who commented on every article or post or said things that implied they weren't stable. The police hadn't been much help from the Chicago venue, and the list Raphael and Magnus provided hadn't had any glaringly obvious suspects, so he was trying to take things into his own hands the only way he knew how–Internet creeping.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of 'thirsty' comments across the internet so it was tough to narrow it down.

Where the stalker clearly knew where Magnus lived, and had a lot of intimate photos that suggested they had learned his routine, he wondered if it was someone who knew him personally. Maybe even before the fame, so that now that they felt he owed them more than he did others. More attention, more gratitude, it was hard to tell.

Alec stopped on an article about 'Banecourt'. Seeing Magnus posed with Camille hanging off his arm made his stomach twist. His only experience with her was not a positive one, and he knew that wasn't going to change if he spent more time with her.

Even looking at those photos, he could see a tightness in Magnus' eyes that wasn't something he saw these days. The photos were dated months prior to their 'devastating' break-up. The biggest war between fans about Magnus was those who shipped the couple and those who didn't – the latter arguing that Magnus was clearly happier without her, and Alec was inclined to agree.

Did that mean Camille had stalker tendencies? She clearly wasn't a stable, sane individual, but that didn't necessarily translate to becoming Magnus' personal stalker. She was there that night, at the venue the message was left at. She knew where his dressing room was. Was it possible she snuck back in somehow, past security, and planted the message while Magnus was on stage?

If not her, maybe another scorned lover? Or wanna-be-lover?

Magnus stirred in his sleep, and Alec flipped articles to his win on the talent show.

"Mm, we there yet?"

Alec looked out of the window. "I'm still seeing only clouds, so I'd say we're still in the air."

"Smart ass." Magnus grumbled, but he left his eyes closed and snuggled into Alec's shoulder further. Alec automatically adjusted himself and swept an arm around Magnus' waist to hold him more comfortably, grateful they hadn't put the armrest down between them earlier.

Magnus must have been exhausted; he normally wasn't this touchy-feely with Alec. And Alec didn't know when they got to a point that they were comfortable enough with each other to sit like this, especially without bickering, but he supposed Magnus not talking much was a good help.

"Shouldn't be much longer. The plane map says just over half an hour."

"Good." Magnus replied, breath fanning against Alec's neck as he settled closer against his side.

Alec couldn't help but think of his phone call with Izzy earlier, when she asked if anything was going on. He could certainly say this was new territory for him. Obama certainly had never cuddled up to him during a plane ride.

But it didn't have to mean anything. After all, Magnus was a celebrity, not the president of the United States. The professional line was much less strict. And he and Magnus sharing a hotel room had certainly sped up their relationship some. He didn't aggravate him as much as he once did, and Magnus listened to him more than he used to. That may have been aided by the stalker scare, but Alec still took it as a win.

He was touched when Magnus genuinely confessed on Ellen to trusting Alec with his life. He had hoped he was making the star feel safer but hearing the words from his usually stubborn mouth was still satisfying.

Still, trusting Alec to essentially do his job did not translate to wanting to date him, despite what Izzy thought. And Ellen had basically asked him about having feelings for Alec and he denied them, but that wasn't much to go on either, as he doubted even Magnus would use a public setting to broadcast feelings he had yet to share with the person they were for.

Alec didn't know why he was stressing over this. He didn't have feelings for Magnus. He was just growing to like him as a… friend of sorts.

Yeah. That was all.

He pointedly ignored the swoop in his stomach when Magnus snuggled even closer in his sleep.

"You're not going to put her in a headlock if she tries to hug me, are you?" Magnus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alec shot him an unimpressed look. "No, obviously."

"I wouldn't claim it as obvious – you have put your hands up to stop more than one fan from getting too close, no matter their age." Magnus reminded him.

Alec scoffed. "Forgive me for fearing for your safety when some stranger runs at you at full speed, reaching their hands into their pocket or coat. My mind is trained to assume the worst."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Well you can tell your mind to chill out. Raphael said the winner of the contest is young, around nine or ten, and she is a foster kid. I highly doubt a child, even in foster care, knows how to operate a gun or will pull a knife on me."

Alec put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll keep my hands to myself."

Magnus typically was pretty involved with his fans, regularly hosting meet and greets, reaching out via social media, and, of course, holding contests. Most of his contests involved actually getting to meet him, whether it be VIP tickets to a show where he'd meet them backstage or pull them up during a song, or, like this one, they'd win a recreational day with him.

Magnus, as always, was thrilled to get a chance for one-on-one time with a fan, especially someone younger. It typically was teens or older who won these things, despite always being open to all ages.

"Magnus? Alec? Madzie just arrived." Luke told the pair, sticking his head into the room.

Magnus clapped his hands together excitedly before heading to the main room they had rented in the hotel to host the young girl.

A small, dark-skinned girl was standing shyly next to Dot, one of Magnus' back-up dancers. She was the one who had accompanied her in the limo as she also was part of the facilitators for the contests. Raphael wasn't much into running those types of contests, so she did the most of the work, including meeting up with them to bring them to Magnus.

"Here's Magnus!" Dot said excitedly, looking down at Madzie.

Madzie's little face broke into a big grin but she stepped behind Dot's leg a little to shield herself from his gaze.

Magnus' feigned offense, putting his hand on his chest. "Madzie! You don't have to be afraid of me. I've been counting down the days until I get to meet you. Are you ready for a fun day together?"

He crouched down several feet away, opening his arms, but leaving it entirely up to her to close the distance between them.

She only hesitated for a moment before running into his arms for a tight hug.

"Hi, sweet pea! Thank you so much for coming to see me today." Magnus told her as he let her go.

She was smiling brightly at him now.

"So! I have a few fun things planned for our day, but you let me know if there is anything you want to do, and I will do my best to make it happen."

He took her hand and led her out of the room, Alec following closely behind.

"Don't mind him. He's my bodyguard. He wants to make sure you and I both stay safe so he's going to hang out with us today too."

Madzie nodded and flashed a little smile over her shoulder. Alec smiled back easily.

They got into the hotel elevator and Magnus pressed the P button.

"Do you know where we're going? The P in this elevator does not mean Penthouse." Magnus leaned down to whisper. "I heard you like to swim."

Madzie's face lit up immediately, even if she hadn't said much yet, and Alec found himself smiling in the corner as they passed through the floors to their destination.

Magnus, thankfully, could hold a conversation all his own. He went on about all the places he wanted to swim someday, even fictional places, and Madzie giggled along and watched him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Alec could admit it was a little endearing to see Magnus so charming with children. He supposed he should have known, since he was charming with all people Alec had seen him interact with.

"So I have Dot bringing us down something special to wear, but this whole place is ours for the next couple hours!"

Madzie's eyes went huge as she looked around the large indoor pool, complete with a couple water slides and plenty of toys in the baskets along the wall.

Dot came in to the room a moment later, grinning widely at the pair. "So Madzie, I brought something for both you and Magnus to match if you're up for it. A swim suit, of course, but also… these!"

Madzie actually squealed this time, and Alec found his face breaking into a grin like the others. She was pretty adorable. This day would be more enjoyable than Alec had initially anticipated. He was expecting some spoiled child that would demand all of Magnus' attention and take advantage of the star. He was glad to be proven very wrong.

"Let's go get dressed and get this pool party started!" Magnus said, snatching the larger of the two mermaid tails from Dot's hands and bounding off to the change rooms.

Alec followed dutifully as Dot led Madzie to the girl's room.

"She is so precious." Magnus said, as he whipped his clothes off behind the curtain and pulled on swim trunks.

"She is." Alec agreed.

"I know you've noticed. I could tell even she melts your icy, Secret Service agent heart." Magnus teased.

"My heart is not icy. I just am focused on my work." Alec retorted. "Plus, I like kids."

"You do?"

"Yes. I grew up taking care of younger siblings, including my baby brother, who is ten years younger than me. And holidays at boarding school, I was always the oldest, so kind of the surrogate big brother."

Alec corrected his throat, realizing he was oversharing, but Magnus chose that moment to step out. Then his mind had to focus on not staring at Magnus' exposed upper body.

He had seen him shirtless plenty of times before. At his house, dancing on stage. A few of his numbers during his concerts involving no shirt or barely one, but being this close to him and in private made his head spin a bit.

"Izzy seems to think you're a good big brother. She wasn't shy about sharing how amazing she thinks you are, and I only talked to her for a few minutes."

Alec shifted his weight between his feet, looking away now.

Maybe recognizing his discomfort, Magnus changed the subject. "Time to swim!" He skipped past him and returned to his guest of honour.

Alec followed, reminding himself to be less awkward, and the pool party began.

It ended up being a pretty fun day, for all involved.

The swimming lasted a good couple hours, and Madzie started coming out of her shell more. She was giggling constantly, flipping her mermaid fin alongside Magnus' and having fun splashing and playing with the various toys. Magnus dragged her next to him through the water so she sped through it like a true ocean-dweller.

She even smiled up at Alec plenty, seeming to enjoy his and Magnus' banter back and forth, and preened under the compliment when Alec told him he liked her fins. She wagged her tail at him excitedly, and Magnus knew the mermaid tails were a good idea.

After swimming, it was time for eating lunch. Magnus had a whole kid-friendly buffet prepared and watched with glee as Madzie had fun picking different things to try and sample before loading her plate.

Following that, Magnus had rented out a private bakery kitchen and they worked on decorating pre-made cookies and cupcakes. Magnus insisted on Alec joining them, especially after seeing how much Madzie had warmed up to him in their short time together. Alec, apparently a sucker for her big brown eyes, agreed after she looked up at him hopefully.

Magnus' competitiveness came out as soon as they got down to business.

"I like lots of colours." Magnus was saying as he dolloped a blob of icing in spots on the cupcake he was working on while Madzie squirted wiggly lines on her cookie.

He opened his mouth to ask Alec if he wished there was a black coloured icing when he saw what Alec was working on.

"WHAT is THAT?!" Magnus exclaimed.

Alec startled at the attention, looking down at the cookie he was decorating as if searching for something he was missing.

"What do you mean?"

"That!" Magnus said, flailing a hand at it. "What, do you secretly run a bakery as a side job? Or go to Decorators Anonymous?!"

Alec laughed when he realized he was, in a back-handed way, complimenting his decorating skills.

"That last one doesn't even make sense, but is it really amazing or is it just because you can't even best a ten year old?"

Madzie seemed to love watching the two of them bicker, smiling to herself as she worked quietly, sporadically peeking up to watch the pair.

Magnus did not shy down from biting back a retort, accenting it with a flick of his wrist, but he unfortunately had the icing bag still in his hand and a spurt of it hit Alec's forearm.

Alec chewed his tongue for a moment, raising his eyebrows in challenge at Magnus.

"I… I swear I didn't mean to do that…" Magnus began, covering his mouth to hide a laugh.

"Oh? Is that right? I can see the deep-seated remorse in your eyes." Alec said, stepping slowly down the length of the counter, eyes locked on Magnus'.

Alec glanced towards Madzie, and his face twisted into a grin.

"Let's get him, Madzie!"

And with that, he grabbed a fistful of sprinkles from a bowl and threw it at Magnus. Madzie squealed and ducked behind Alec's giant form as Magnus shrieked and squeezed hard on the icing bag to send more in his opponent's direction.

And so began an epic food fight.

The clean up wasn't fun, but Alec told Magnus they had to do at least some of it so Madzie could see that actions have consequences. Magnus reminded him that Madzie was spending a day with her celebrity idol and wasn't there to learn life lessons but he felt too guilty leaving it all for someone else so he agreed in the end.

Magnus had a clean-up crew come in after them, shooting them a sheepish smile as he ushered the small girl out of the room, and Alec followed amusedly.

Next up was watching a movie in a recreational room the hotel had for rent – it was gigantic, a TV almost half as wide as the wall and nearly as tall. They had more snacks set up – bowls of candy, buttered popcorn and Shirley Temples.

Magnus, of course, proposed making a blanket fort with the provided puffy blankets and collection of pillows.

Once settled, with Moana playing on the big screen, Madzie sat between Alec's legs as he twisted parts of her hair into cute pigtail braids. He admitted his time with the Obama girls, when they were younger, involved requests like this during the more boring days at the White House, so he had some experience with her type of hair.

Once he had her feeling pretty, she scooted down to lay on her stomach to watch the screen intently. Alec and Magnus, laying outstretched against the couch, tossed popcorn back and forth at each other when the other wasn't looking. They kept trying to best the other by having the projectile land somewhere inconspicuous, like in the space behind Magnus' collar or the gaping pocket of Alec's pants.

The pair of them were downright giggly, which definitely was new for Alec. He blamed the ridiculous amount of sugar they had consumed aiding his hyperactivity.

The movie finished too quickly for any of them, and that was the finale on the day with Magnus for Madzie. Dot popped in the room with an apologetic smile.

"Time to go, Madzie."

Madzie pouted but jumped up obediently, hugging Alec first and then Magnus.

Alec was a little surprised but petted her hair affectionately, hugging her back, and when Magnus hugged her, he hugged so tight that he picked her up and swung her around.

"You were the perfect princess all day. Thank you for today." he told her genuinely.

"I'll miss you. Thank you for the best day ever." she said in her little voice, the most words she had strung together in a row all day.

Alec could practically see Magnus' heart swell in his chest.

Madzie hugged him a second time as a goodbye before following Dot out of the door with a final wave.

Magnus feigned fainting after that, pulling an unexpected laugh out of Alec.

"She is so precious. I would adopt her in a second if only I was looking to settle down with a family now. I don't know how no one has snatched her up yet." Magnus said as they started returning the fort materials to their rightful places.

"Well, is there ever a right time? Most parents get blindsided by kids coming around when they least expect it. I know my parents did."

"Yeah, I agree." Magnus sat on the couch. "I just… I feel like I need a partner. Not everyone needs one to raise kids, I get that, but I need someone who can reel me in when I'm tempted to spoil them rotten or going over-the-top. Honestly, I don't know if I'm father material. I didn't exactly have any parental role models growing up."

Alec looked sideways at him, getting comfortable on the other end of the couch. "Did you not see yourself with Madzie today? You're amazing with kids – I see it every day you interact with your young fans. You treat them like equals. Every one of them. You'd be an incredible dad. Madzie, or any kid, would be lucky to have you."

Magnus smiled, eyes on the carpet, and the softness in his eyes let the reality of what Alec said catch up to him. He hadn't meant to go on and on like that. He just wasn't used to seeing Magnus admit vulnerability, or fear, and it brought out his protective nature.

Magnus spoke after a pregnant pause. "You know, Dot said in the car, when she asked Madzie why she liked me so much, that she looked up to me because she said 'he's like me'. From foster care. I never really thought of inspiring those people when I set out to follow my own dreams, but I think I'd want to adopt someone from the system. I may have grown out of the system but I'd love to save another kid, or more, from having to endure that."

Alec watched him, heart warming at the thought. He forgot what Izzy went on about when she tried to give him the run down of what made Magnus so amazing when she heard he got the job originally. Now that he said it, he remembered that Magnus had lost his parents young. His mom died when he was eight, father was never in the picture, and step-father gave up custody immediately. Or went to jail. Or both, Alec couldn't really remember. But the point was, he got thrown into the foster system early, with no family. He was passed from abusive home to neglectful home until he turned eighteen and could stand on his own.

"I think that's a great idea."

Magnus seemed lost in thought, so Alec got comfortable at the other end of the couch. He pulled out his phone and saw a new message from Izzy, commenting on the couple posts Magnus had put up already.

"Izzy approves of your Instagram choices." Alec commented.

Magnus beamed. "I do know how to pick them. Speaking of, I should finish the series off."

He grabbed his phone and sifted through his photos from the day, selecting a bunch to post. He reviewed his Instagram story, unable to help smiling at the sight of Madzie playing in the pool and throwing food before using Alec as a shield against Magnus' projectiles. When Magnus had tried to hide, Alec had thrown Madzie on his shoulders and got her to pelt him with marshmallows while he cried for mercy.

He wasn't used to seeing Alec looking so playful and lighthearted. He didn't know Alec could even have fun, but there was no doubt he was when he saw the video evidence. The skin around his hazel eyes crinkled, and Magnus swore his smile could light a city, his laugh melodic in the background mixed with Madzie's giggles.

It seemed his followers appreciated the bodyguard being included in the day's recap too. The comments on his posts could be divided by the usual thirsting for attention or reply from Magnus, gushing over how cute and lucky Madzie was, and then a good chunk talking about Alec.

@baneisbae Why is Magnus' bodyguard hot af AND good with kids?

@bane_lover: Pretty sure no one wrote on the contest that they would get both Magnus AND his smoking bodyguard for the day. I demand a recount.

@magnusis2fab4u: Okay Ellen totally called it – Magnus and his bodyguard are definitely a thing, right?! Magnus – you can't avoid the question forever! We want #Malec confirmed!

Magnus looked over at Alec, who was on his phone still, no doubt continuing to text Isabelle about his day. He had learned how close the two siblings were once he started getting to know Izzy, and that Alec was just as close if not closer to their adopted brother Jace.

Magnus looked at the time. It was still early. And honestly, he didn't feel anywhere near ready to turn in for the night.

He spotted the game console and jumped to his feet, perusing the collection of games in the cabinet before turning back to Alec with a smirk.

Alec felt his stare and looked up. "… What is that look for?"

"Fancy a friendly game?" Magnus waved a plastic case at him.

Alec raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're thinking we're going to play that game, friendly is the last word I'd use to describe how it will go."

Magnus grinned. "Oh don't use that as an excuse to get out of me creaming you. Here." He tossed him a controller. "You're player two though. You need to get used to the fact that I'll always be number one."

Alec rolled his eyes at him. "We'll see about that. Game on."

"Alexander! Are you kidding me?!" Magnus shouted as they sped around the race course and Alec once again shunted him on his way by and knocked him into a wall.

Alec just laughed. "Be lucky we're not on Rainbow Road right now."

"Oh just you wait."

"Magnus!" Alec groaned. "Stop throwing those damn green shells in the tunnel!"

"Ooh sorry! Can't hear you over my streak of getting first place!" Magnus taunted, his car doing its victory lap after crossing the finish line.

It had been a couple hours of MarioKart and it had gone about as well as Alec predicted. Lots of throwing insults at each other back and forth and nudging shoulders from their spot next to each other on the couch.

It wasn't long into the next track that Alec got some revenge.

"Alexander! Don't you fucking dar—"

"Sorry!" Alec laughed maniacally as he sped by Magnus' twirling car.

"Stupid red shells." Magnus grumbled as he tried to get back up to speed.

They were naturally competitive so this type of game was the worst idea, but there was no doubt both parties were having fun. Alec hadn't heard Magnus laugh this much in all his time knowing him, and Magnus was a generally jovial person, especially on stage and show appearances.

"Bastard! You did NOT just banana peel me right there?!" Alec griped, watching the other vehicles speed past his stalled car before going the extra inch to cross the finish line and coming in fifth.

"Rainbow Road time! Prepare to lose. Again. You must be used to it by now." Magnus teased.

"Hey, you've only won about half. I've held my own, thank you very much."

Sure enough, Magnus found Alec was better than expected at the famously challenging track. He had fallen off the edge a couple times on the sharper turns and well placed holes while Alec had still not slipped once despite some close calls.

They were starting on their third lap now and Alec was miles ahead of the rest, Magnus back in fourth, and he knew Alec wouldn't let him live it down if he beat him on the hardest level.

So he did the only logical thing he could think of.

"Hey!" Alec cried when Magnus suddenly snatched his controller out of his hands and held it above his head.

"Oh sorry, did you need this?" Magnus sneered, waving it behind him as Alec practically climbed in his lap to grapple for it.

"Magnus! Stop being such a child!" Alec complained, wrestling with him properly now.

They had been too close to the edge of the couch cushions due to the intensity of the game, so of course, with the shift of weight, their tangled form ended up toppling to the floor.

The controller bounced a few inches away out of Magnus' hand when Magnus' body slammed on top of Alec's.

"Oof." Alec grunted, hands automatically gripping Magnus' waist to steady him and unintentionally slipping under the loose material of his shirt.

Magnus was breathing heavily from their battle, their bodies fully aligned, and he looked down at his companion in surprise at their position.

Alec's bottom lip was between his teeth, his body frozen, and his hazel eyes searched Magnus', waiting for some sort of reaction. Some quip or innuendo that was typical of the other man.

Magnus couldn't help but have his eyes drawn to Alec's lip, watching the soft flesh yield to his blunt teeth, and he was licking his own without thinking.

He couldn't help his mind drifting back to the comments made by his followers. Alec really was gorgeous, all dark lashes and porcelain skin and sculpted cheekbones. And, thankfully, not dating his sister. And good with kids. And supportive and kind when he wasn't being a bossy, pain in the ass.

"Magnus…?"

Just hearing his name said so breathily made Magnus' stomach flip. It had taken some time, but he finally stopped using 'Mr. Bane'. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the other man's mouth. Especially like this. So silky and unbridled.

Alec's thumbs were drawing slow arcs above his hip bones. Magnus wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

He could just lean down and kiss him. Pull that bottom lip in his mouth, suck and nibble and bring out a groan from Alec. Make him feel good. Make him give up control.

Fuck, what was he thinking? This was Alec he was talking about. He'd probably slap him silly for even trying. Alec may be kind but he still found Magnus infuriating—that much could not be denied.

Magnus corrected his throat and backed off of Alec so he could sit up, brushing his clothes and getting to his feet.

"Well, looks like we both lost this round." Magnus said, glancing up at the TV to see the other characters had long since finished the race and they were in 7th and 8th.

Alec got to his feet, and Magnus was disappointed to see he wasn't meeting his eyes.

"We should probably get back to our room. Tomorrow is another early one."

Magnus nodded and began packing up the gaming system, trying not to worry that his moment of weakness may have ruined their good, progressive day of friendship.

Alec lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, and tried to get the end of day's event out of his mind.

He had had a lot of fun that day, way more than he anticipated, and more than he ever expected as security detail. Taking this job on was certainly a change of pace, and it only was proven more every day. He didn't expect to end up actually liking spending time with Magnus, but today had proven him wrong. Especially after Madzie left and they still managed to have fun together.

And then Magnus had to fall on top of him and Alec had to feel every line of his body. Had to smell the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne. See every fleck of colour in his chocolate eyes.

Alec laid like a deer in headlights while Magnus stared down at him like he had never seen him before. Like he was some wondrous sight to behold.

But then, just as quick, he was getting off of him and referencing the failed game they had been playing, and Alec felt like an idiot.

Magnus had just been stunned by the fall, taken off guard. He hadn't been about to kiss him.

Right?

Continue to Chapter 5

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec au #malec fic #shadowhunters fic #the bodyguard fic #celebrity!magnus #bodyguard!alec

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scarybabe · 6 years

Text

good news/bad news

I have some crappy news :( I’m supposed to be having my surgery in less than a month and not only has my doctor not received my custom implants yet, he hasn’t let me know what days to fly out and what city/surgery center it will be taking place.

The medical loan I took out to pay for the implants themselves was only enough for the 13,000$ implants, not the plane tickets or the surgery itself. At this short of notice plane tickets would cost almost $1,000 for my partner and I.

My roommate is moving out this week and next month my rent is going up, and this month Clips4Sale traffic plummeted and it really made me lose motivation. I’m going to have to pay a little over 2 grand out of pocket for my classes in the fall because I maxed out my student loans.

I am not asking for “emergency donations” or anything like that, I’ve saved my money and made responsible spending choices this month and I’m not hurting - I just can’t afford to drop over $20,000 on an elective, OPTIONAL surgery in less than a month.

So what’s the good news? lol

I am still having the raffle/video giveaway for everyone who’s used Ko-Fi to donate towards my surgery this summer.

I talked with my doctor and he said since I’ve already purchased the physical implants, he will let me know when they arrive and whenever I’ve saved up and raised enough money to pay for the entire surgery (no more loans!) he will work with me to get it scheduled - and with enough advance to where plane tickets won’t cost me a fortune.

Whenever my Ko-Fi goal for the surgery reaches 100%, I’ll reach out to him again and get everything scheduled. Optimal times would be this winter over winter break, or next summer early like in May after I get out of school.

———

I’ve also gotten a lot of messages from guys that tease me about wanting to help fund my surgery and straight up vanish. The only person that’s going to help me reach this goal is me, and it’s going to be the old fashioned way with hard work, hours on cam and making content, and saving up every month until I’ve covered every expense and paid off my loan for the implants themselves in full. ❤️

I’m a go getter to a fault - I didn’t realize how expensive a custom surgery would be and I thought I would be able to afford it but I was wrong.

For everyone who has their hopes up - it’s still happening just not for awhile! For everyone who didn’t want me to go under the knife again at all - you’ll be getting a LOT more content of me the way I am right now. 😊

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feelingsdusk-writes · 6 years

Text

About that horrible period of time right after a vacation

(Art by the awesome @hd-hale ❤❤❤)

Prompted by @riceycloveed: DID I HEAR PROMPTS althoughofcoursejustifyouwantto something about a Steter - Spideypool AU???

----

“You need to take a vacation.”

“Auntie…“

“No, listen to me, kiddo. You’re running yourself ragged. How many pounds have you lost this last month?”

“I-I…“

“Look, this is New York, raise a manhole and twenty heroes will crawl out like cockroaches…”

“I resent the analogy.“

“… so I’m sure the world won’t burn if you take a measly week long vacation, yes?”

“… Okay.“

“Good, because I bought you a plane ticket to Orlando.“

“What?! But work!“

“Nonsense, that’s the beauty of being a freelancer, you can do whatever you want.“

“B-but…”

“You’re leaving tomorrow at sunrise…“

“Auntie, you’re evil, you know I hate mornings.”

“… and I want tons of pictures of you in Danny the Otter paraphernalia, a box of those Betty Boo’s beans…”

“Bertie Botts, and it’s Harry Potter, auntie.“

“… or whatever they’re called, and a picture with every single princess of Disney World, especially Mulan. Lots of them with Mulan. And Jack Sparrow, I want a picture of you in a pirate’s hat, and bring that hat back.”

“That may be physically impossible in one week, you know?“

“But you’re going to try your best, yes?"

“Yes, auntie.“

“Good. Love you, kiddo.“

“Love you too.“

“And that way I’ll have time to fix all those costumes you’ve ripped…”

“Not a costume.“

”… because you break them faster than I can fix them. I have to find a way to reinforce the groin and the bum…“

“Auntieeee.”

“Don’t mind my ramblings, kiddo, and go prepare your luggage. Remember, no costume and no climbing into places, you’re in vacation.“

“Not a costume!”

And to Orlando goes Stiles, to beat his feet into a pulp walking through Disney World, the Universal’s Islands of Adventure, and the Discovery Cove.

And if he cheats a little and uses his powers to climb to the top of each castle he finds, auntie will never… Who is he kidding? Of course she’ll know, because Stiles tells her everything.

He takes a lot of pictures, he visits as many places as humanly possible and he eats double his weight in food and sweets. And he steals Jack Sparrow’s hat.

And the world does burn in his absence.

“You’re such a over-dramatic child.“

“How could this happen, auntie?! I’m gone seven days (not even that!) and some impostor appears and starts chopping the heads off of the Argent mafia?“

In the front page of the Daily Bugle, there’s a badly taken picture of a red and black spandex clad guy in the middle of a sea of corpses with the headline Spiderman loses it!

—

“Rest is for the puny, Weaklinski! You shouldn’t have taken time off!“ Jackson crows at him the moment he spots him.

“How sad that you have the finest camera on the market and this is the best you can offer, Jackass,” he snarks back, waving the newspaper at him.

“Jealous much?“ he sneers.

“Seeing the entire package?” He gives him a disdainful but brief once-over as he passes him and snorts. “You wish.”

“Fuck you!“

“Think about that much? I wouldn’t hold my breath, Jackass.”

When Jackson’s only answer is a furious finger, Stiles gleefully adds another victory (Stiles ∞+1, Jackson 0) into the tally. He crosses the entire room until he reaches the boss’ office and knocks.

Hope is the last thing you lose, but just as he expected, talking to him is an exercise in frustration and completely pointless.

“But it’s not Spiderman, Coach! It’s not even the same suit!“

“So what if he changed his costume from blue to black! Maybe he felt that he looked fat in blue, maybe he thinks he looks more badass in black? Who cares about that? We care that he killed thirty upstanding citizens, members of the respectable Argent family…“

“Also secretly known as the New York mafia,“ Stiles can’t help but to interject.

“…and that means he’s a fucking menace like I said from the start! And that's what’s going to shoot our sale numbers through the roof.”

“Look, Coach, he doesn’t even use webs and he has two katanas. Spiderman doesn’t have katanas! Much less kills people with them!“

“All psychopaths progress like that, Bilinski! It’s obvious that he now enjoys a more hands-on approach and that he needs to bathe in the blood of his enemies to feel good. He needs to be caught and stopped.”

“But…“

“Bilinski,” Bobby Finstock cuts in,“ this is what happens when you leave for a week. You lose track of what’s happening and things change. Adapt or die. Now get out of my office.” And then he blows the whistle that normally hangs around his neck. “Chop, chop!”

“But…“

He blows it again.

“Coach!”

And again.

“Would you let me talk?!”

The man takes a deep breath and then proceeds to blow the whistle until he runs out of air and his face reddens with the effort.

“OKAY.“

Stiles hates, hates, hates, hates, Bobby Finstock.

Especially since he spends an entire night taking pictures to bring them back to him as a proof and he still won’t bulge.

“But the suit…“

“So he changed his mind again, big deal. His fashion sense still sucks, it’s still spandex.”

“I don’t think…”

“You wear plaid all the time, your opinion doesn’t count,“ Finstock cuts in dismissively. “But we’re not a fashion magazine, Bilinski, so unless you catch him in his birth suit and we can use that as a proof of misconduct or public indecency or whatever, I don’t care what he wears. Now get out and don’t come back until you bring me something useful.”

Stiles grits his teeth frustrated as he exits the office, grumbling under his breath about climbing walls in jeans against spandex. It’s now obvious that ending with this nonsense is not going to be as simple as he thought.

He’s going hunting.

—

Two weeks of scouring the city for psycho guy later, he’s about to climb the walls with frustration… no, he’s already doing that (pun totally not intended) because said frustration is off the roof by now.

Nada, nothing, niente, niets, rien.

No sightings at all, no hide nor hair to be seen, because the guy has been completely M.I.A. ever since the stunt that got him the front page.

Time to pull out the big guns…

(He knows what he wants, after all… and the Argent Benefit Gala is coming up.)

… and to dust off his tuxedo.

(Er, which he doesn’t have.)

(But he’ll worry about that after he gets himself a spot as an official inside photographer for the event.)

—

Stiles gets himself a spot.

(He has to play dirty and put laxatives on Jackson’s food, but sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good.)

(Serves him right. Jackson taunted him for days about wanting to cover a fashion event (which isn’t actually accurate, since it’s first and foremost a benefit) before realizing that as an inside photographer he would get in touch with a lot of important people, and then he wanted the spot. Which he got, because he bribed Coach with a new coffee machine.)

(Stiles made sure to toast him with his Starbucks coffee as he run past him… all those six times… in less than one hour.)

(He may or may not have overdone it with the laxatives.)

(But just a little.)

(Okay, he’ll admit that putting them in his drink too was vengeful at best.)

He rents a tux and suffers through an hour and a half of red carpet in the freezing cold until he finally gets to go inside. Add to that four hours of snotty people asking him for drinks and canapés (seriously, he has a camera, in his hands, right in front of them) or rich brats wanting him to take pictures of them making the victory sign. Super. Lovely night. Would do it again.

Not.

And all for nothing, because psycho guy doesn’t show up.

Well, not for nothing exactly.

It goes like this.

1)At about two hours into the event, Stiles decides to go outside and take a breath, because the room is starting to get stuffy and if the decrepit lady with the arachnid brooch (irony of ironies) pinches his ass once more as he asks him for another flute of champagne, he’s not going to be responsible for his actions.

2)So there he is, an innocent bystander, breathing in the cool night air and fiddling with his camera, when he looks downwards… and catches the Argent princess trying to elope with one of the waiters of the event. They stand there looking like deers under the headlights before they catch sight of his camera and panic starts to fill their features. Stiles sighs, gives them two thumbs up in the name of forbidden love, and pointedly turns his back on them. He hears a happily whispered thanks after an incredulous minute and thinks the matter closed.

(It’s not.)

3)Three hours into the event, and three more butt pinches (seriously, the only thing left for him to evade the lady is to hide under the table, how does she keep finding him?), his arachnid senses start tingling like mad. Finally, he thinks as he goes outside and suits up. He locates where the problem is… and nope, no psycho guy. Apparently, Princess and Crooked-jaw-guy have been caught and the rest of the family isn’t happy.

Like holding under gun point kind of not happy.

“Oh my God, it was you! How could you, aunt Kate? How could you kill dad and mom?” Princess cries, big fat tears sliding down her face while Crooked-jaw-guy holds her with a valiant expression.

Bad, bad, stupid move, Stiles thinks, never admit to knowing something like that, especially under gun point.

“You shouldn’t have admitted knowing that, dear,“ a lady in an admittedly spectacular dress sighs dramatically, while a grandpa guy just sighs long-suffering.

His words exactly.

“Take care of them,“ says Grandpa ominously. “And make sure it looks like he did this too.”

So Stiles, seeing where the situation is going, intervenes. He saves the lovebirds and relishes in leaving the rest of the people in the room stuck to the walls after they push him into the pool. And as he waves to the kids good bye with a cheeky remark about enjoying Mexico, he thinks the matter closed. Again.

(It’s not.)

(Again.)

4)He goes home.

5)He wakes up with the mother of all colds clogging his sinuses and to the headline Spiderman kidnaps Argent heiress during benefit gala!

Stiles groans and, directly after, he lets out three sneezes in chain.

“Oh, dear,“ auntie sighs. “I’m going to make some chicken soup for you, kiddo.”

“Thanks, auntie,“ Stiles rasps before letting his head fall into the pillow.

He needs to find psycho guy pronto.

—

Ironically, it’s not him who finds psycho guy, but psycho guy who finds him instead.

Sort of.

He’s searching the city again, not recovered at all from his cold and having to pull his mask up every ten minutes or so to sneeze… and he’s had a couple of close calls about that, so he’s not a happy camper, that’s for sure.

He’s passing beside a skyscraper when one of the windows from a level above bursts noisily and out comes flying a body. He hears a shouted Taxi! before that same body lands on him and holds onto him like a limpet. It takes Stiles three floors of free falling before he recovers enough to shoot a web to pull himself forward and into the rooftop of the nearest building. When silenced fire starts to rain on him, he makes the effort of pulling his piggybacking charge almost eight streets further.

Stiles gapes when he finally comes face to face with his passenger.

“Well that’s what I call a timely intervention. You certainly have a gift, my spandex clad friend.“

“You.”

“Me?“

“You!“

“Yes, we’ve established that already.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself. This is not him, he’s Spiderman, he’s cool and sarcastic and all around badass. He has this. Okay.

“And who exactly are you?“

“Deadpool?”

“Charming name.”

Okay, he has a name, that’s good. Now he needs a picture of them together and that’s it, problem solved.

“Wait a moment,“ Deadpool says tapping his fist against his palm with a sudden realization, “I know you! You are…”

“Of course you…“

“… the guy that’s been taking all the credit for my hard work! What was…”

“… do. Say what?“

“… the name? Antman?“ He gives him a once-over. “Antboy? No, Blackwidowboy? Arachnidboy?”

Stiles makes to talk but has to turn to a side to pull up his mask to let out three sneezes in chain. Of all the indignities, he accidentally presses the mechanism and a web shoots out.

“Eh, Arachnidboy, you may want to…” says Deadpool making a wiping gesture.

Stiles sees red.

“It’s Spiderman, you motherfucker!“

Even years later, Stiles won’t know how it happened. One minute he’s shooting a web in anger, the next another gets stuck in Deadpool’s katanas… long story short, he accidentally decapitates the man before propelling him out of the rooftop and down to the ground bellow.

He stays there in shock for a couple of seconds before jumping to where the man’s body is.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,“ he repeats continuously as he looks at the broken body and then forces himself to look for the head.

“You’re giving me a headache,” it says and then, after he shrieks and shoots for the rooftop again, it snickers and adds. “Ah, that never gets old.”

“What the?“ he mutters as he approaches him carefully. One hand is making awkward grabby motions in the direction of the head and Stiles swallows before making a decision. He grabs the head carefully to place it on the hands of the rapidly healing body.

“I gather by your reaction that this wasn’t your intended result,“ Deadpool lilts from his own lap. “Do you mind?”

“Ah, yeah,“ Stiles nods and reaches to right the leg in the correct position.

“Much better,” he sighs as and audible snap reaches Stiles’ ears. “So, I know I can be irritating and all that, but I’m sensing a deeper reason for all this anger?“

“You’re asking me that after I chopped your head off?“ he asks incredulously and a hand gives him a wobbly thumbs up, the wrist obviously broken.

“Well, you did give me a free ride and got me out of a sticky situation… literally, all that congealing blood…“

“That’s gross.”

“Exactly.“

“I didn’t mean… forget it,” Stiles sighs, suddenly exhausted. “And this happens a lot to you?”

“What can I say? Trouble likes to play Hide and Seek with me. And I tend to lose a lot. Embarrassing, I know.”

“Why do I get the feeling that don’t try very hard to hide… or at all?“

Deadpool blinks, then proceeds to place his head upon his shoulders, holding it there with both hands, and to grin at him.

“Do you want some tacos?“

“What.”

—

Spiderman allies himself with new threat to society, Deadpool? says the headline on the front page of the newspaper. Under it, one of the pictures he took of them, a very ambiguous one, sits.

(Apparently, when he gave that ride to him, he had just killed the rest of the Argent family, barring the princess that he hopes is by now far far away.)

“Hi there, Spidey!“ Deadpool sings as he appears out of nowhere. “I was bored and I thought of you.”

Stiles facepalms.

He’s never taking a vacation ever again.

#prompts #teen wolf fics #my writing #teen wolf #steter

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goodboygustav · 2 years

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Time for online venting! It’s a long read

I’m feeling completely stuck with my work situation & financial situation as of late & I’m so far past the point of burn out that I have meltdowns in my car before heading in.

I’ve worked for FedEx for a year and a half now as a package handler. It’s a third shift job, so I’m usually starting my shift at 2 am and leaving at 9:30 am. It pays $16/hr but during holidays we usually get a $3 raise during, so it’s not bad but it’s also not good enough. For a time we had $100 weekly bonuses for showing up all days we’re supposed to work due to coworkers not showing up en masse, plus our insanely high turnover rate. But they got rid of that because they don’t like paying us living wages

Most jobs in my area don’t even meet $15/hr, that’s one of the biggest reasons I’m still there. At my facility, I’m one of the best package handlers & each manager speaks of me highly (because I made the mistake of showing my potential so now they’re abusing it). Like, I’m faster than most package handlers and can load a truck better than most since I was trained on doing bulk trucks. Normal trucks are in the 100 range when it comes to packages, bulk trucks range from 200-300. I’ve been at the same loading spot for the entire time I’ve worked there. I work on the heaviest line, we have the most routes. So I’m usually loading 900-1000 packages a day while others load 400-600. The last two months, we’ve had such a massive turnover rate (by 400%) that I’ve been having to load 6 trucks at a time daily to the point of physical & mental exhaustion. And there’s no breaks here, you just work until we’re done. I got to the point where I was screaming, throwing shit, punching & kicking packages in the truck. It’s bringing out such an ugly side of me that’s eating away at me

They eventually moved me to the straight trucks, just these trailers that’s nothing but business routes. The managers kept saying it’s a lot more chill and should help with my mental health but HOO BOY that was a fuckin lie. All three trucks I work out get slammed all at once. And while I get to turn off the belts whenever I want, it’s still incredibly stressful taking hours to catch up and by the time I’m done catching up, the next wave hits and I’m too exhausted to keep going. Plus Mondays & Fridays are the busiest days and the managers just expect me to be ok with getting my ass handed to me all by myself. I’m always leaving work angry, tired & depressed. Plus working third shift is killing me, I can’t stand not being awake the same time as everyone else.

I don’t want to keep this up, I’m tired of doing more than everyone else & I wish I never showed how good I am at my job. I have my vacation coming up next week, but I still have 5 work days left to get through. I just want to put in my 2 weeks or better yet, just quit and burn the bridge. But the jobs in my area are just retail & food service and that shit isn’t good for a guy with autism, plus they don’t pay much. Starbucks in hiring since I DO want to get in the barista business. But I want to do local coffee shops and most don’t offer training. I mean, I could work for Starbucks for a couple months to get the experience then work for local but man, I hate how busy Starbucks can get. Though I can walk to Starbucks due to my fiancée and I have to drive her. So we gotta get her to retake her drivers test since it went expired during Covid and get her a car of her own so I’m not limited to everything in my immediate area or have her figure out her commuting

But I also feel like I can’t quit due to financial situations right now. In August I’ll have to fly out to my sister-in-laws wedding so I’ll be unavailable for a few days, plus plane tickets can get expensive with inflation right now. Plus for August I gotta pay my rent (which got raised), my bills, my car loan, & I gotta pay the deposit for my wedding photographer. A lot of money spending. Fun. And in November is my own wedding, which I’ll take a week off and have to spend money on a few more things. And I’m pretty sure I won’t have enough PTO culminated to cover it, I’m using all my current PTO on my vacation next week. So I feel like I have to stay, I can’t go unemployed for too long and have my fiancée do everything

I feel stuck. And I’m too tired to do anything on my days off. I’m tired of being so angry all the time. I’ve never felt so low mentally but I fear this is just my life now. I know I can quit but I don’t want to be impulsive. I’m too much of a people pleaser.

#don’t reblog #commenting is fine #don’t be a dick #typing all of this is strange bc I feel like I’m missing some info #and I’m worried it doesn’t sound as bad as it does

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eminperu · 6 years

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Dreams Money Can Buy: The economics of a pay-as-you-go vagabond lifestyle

Since my last Facebook post about another jaunt across the world, several people have reached out to me asking the same question: how do I “fund my lifestyle” (copyright Emma). It dawned on me that A) lots of folks are looking to travel the world but B) are not sure how to do that realistically and responsibly. As an additional obstacle, people—even the vagabonds—often get weird and cagey when asked about their finances. Luckily, I’m 100% comfortable letting you know that I’m pretty poor and I’m still living what Cardi B and Chance might classify as close to—if not my best—life. I’m happy to share my strategies for the nomad life as someone who has never considered planning a strong suit and whose butt gets all itchy at the sound of the word “budget.” This is definitely not a how-to, but a how-I-do guide that hopefully can offer one perspective to those who, like me, dream of being homeless and financially insecure—I mean, wanderlusters. Naturally, each point is organized by subcategory titles borrowed from legendary and timeless songwriter Aubrey Graham. Started from the Bottom (now we’re still near the bottom)

Okay, not exactly the bottom, but not far off. I did have some savings before I started traveling, and I think that cushion was pretty important for my peace of mind/not dying famished in the streets. I set a (admittedly pretty arbitrary) bottom line that I would be comfortable—not thrilled, but not fully catatonic—to have when I returned to a more “traditional lifestyle.” I put that amount in a do-not-touch savings account. Luckily, I haven’t really had to dip into this kitty very many times. Though, again, I’m admittedly no financial wizard, I would estimate over the course of the last year I’ve netted about -$2,000. To me, this year, the amount of time I spent not working, and the amazing experiences I have had were worth significantly more than that figure.

God’s Plan/Controlla

You can plan your travels in advance to varying degrees, but it’s crucial to be honest with yourself about how much uncertainty you can stomach without anxiety sucking all the joy out of the cool stuff you’re doing. I’ve had people tell me, “Oh, it’s so crazy how you can just hop on a plane and not know where you’re going next. You’re flying by the seat of your pants!” Two things: 1) I hate pants. 2) More often than not, I do plan at least my immediate next move in advance. This isn’t so much a due my discomfort with uncertainty, but rather how frustrated I get when I’m forced to spend substantially more money on a ticket/room because I couldn’t commit in time. As a general rule, I plan international travel at least a month in advance and try to get things settled for big within-country trips a week before I leave. I make sure to search airline sites directly, especially for within country travel, and I don’t hesitate to call booking sites instead of reserving online to see if if they can cut me a deal—they’re out here looking for that commission. That being said, the best practice is to seek advice from people who have visited or, better yet, live in your destination. Not only can they steer you towards the right locations/companies/etc., they can also advise you when it might be more economical to book real time in-person as opposed to beforehand online (this happens quite a bit, especially in less-developed countries. Trip Advisor is not always your friend, yo.). Plan as much in advance as you need to in order to feel comfortable and excited, not overwhelmed and anxious, for your trip.

Hold On, We’re Going Home

Building off my last point, for me, having a space to unpack my borderline-hoarder amount of clothes and plug in my electric toothbrush is crucial to my mental health. Who doesn’t love a nest? Though a lot of people move intermittently between destinations, I was pretty settled in Lima. Before flying in, we booked a month in an Airbnb. I easily found a three month room to rent on Facebook/Craigslist, and used the same method to find two of my jobs (oh, sidebar—look for and join ALL online Expat groups as soon as you get to a country. Go to a language exchange and ignore the creepy older dudes who try to get you to “teach them English” and look for other expats who are probably new to the area, too). I also knew I was setting up base camp somewhere with an incredibly low cost of living, and that was intentional (Meygan’s intention, not mine, but still).

Mob Ties

This will be a small section, as it deviates from the financial focus of this piece, but I think it’s important: be proactive ASAP in making friends. It’s so, so easy in any city with a large expat population (again, join the Facebook groups). Expats are prone to be quite outgoing, likely share your interests, and probably have lower friend standards than you’re used to! Living abroad is like college, and all the other expats are your new floormates. There will definitely be some weridos, but you’ll sift through them and find the gems. Plus, traveling with friends makes things cheaper, so this section is totally relevant. (Nailed it.)

Hotline Bling

This one is straightforward: Make sure your phone is internationally unlocked and get a prepaid SIM card immediately in each country you go to. I’ve never needed to pay more than $20 a month for talk/text/data (you’ll only really need data) and it is PLENTY (how many of you are looking at your Verizon bill and fuming right now?). International plans don’t make sense in the long run and scrambling from Starbucks to random hostels for WiFi is not a good look.

Nice for What

One of the benefits of living abroad is that as soon as I moved, people started hitting me up to visit and/or meet them places. I’ve had the opportunity to visit magnificent destinations with magnificent friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen in years. If, like me, you’re overwhelming popular and well-liked, you have to be realistic and honest about where you can and cannot travel. Whilst on a budget and trying to function in day-to-day life, sometimes merging plans with friends looking to vacation is just not feasible. Compromising is great; it’s also valuable to let the homies know that this isn’t just a trip for you, it’s your lifestyle (did you just throw up a little bit as you read that? Me too. Sorry). I got super lucky and my friends who came and visited me in my more permanent location—Peru—didn’t force me to go to Machu Picchu 96 times! Every country has a bunch of cool stuff to do, and they were more than happy to meet in Colombia, hop on a jungle excursion, or otherwise with plan something that was in my budget/I hadn’t already done.

In addition to being realistic with my budget and with other people, I had to be realistic with myself, which involved some reprioritizing. I haven’t really bought clothes in the last year. I didn’t make my usual music festival rounds. I wasn’t planning to see my family for Christmas. My shoes, which have amassed an innumerable amount of miles, are essentially all falling apart. Time and time again, I chose experiences over things and I couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Nonstop

Having a job, regardless of the wage, always makes me feel better about spending money. You can make money in a variety of ways, but here’s a hot tip: TEACH ENGLISH ONLINE. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU I WOULD NOT HAVE DONE WHAT I DID THIS LAST YEAR WITHOUT IT. There are a myriad of companies (I’m with VIPKID—lemme talk to you about it and get some $$ for helping you apply) that allow you to set your own schedule and teach online from anywhere with a strong WiFi connection. I taught every weekday in Peru from 6:30 am to 9:00am (and an occasional weekend evening) and was done with my workday by 9:15 in the morning. I was also able to teach when I came back to Kansas, when I was home in California, and when I was traveling, Plus, I get money for referring you desperate plebs.

Let me tell you why VIPKID is infinitely better than getting an in-person job (even teaching English) abroad:

The hours and location are 100% flexible. I can open my schedule weeks in advance or the night before, and I can teach fifteen classes in a row or one single class.

There is no lesson planning. Prepping for teaching is an evil succubus that lures you in and steals your time and also several parts of your soul. The VIPKID platform offers ready-to-use lessons that have a universal structure. I don’t even glance at them before I start teaching. It’s the most low-maintenance, easiest form of instruction I’ve ever been involved with.

You don’t need to worry about getting a work visa. For all the work I did in Peru, I was paid cash under the table, as getting a carnet de extranjera (similar to a green card) is time-consuming, expensive, and difficult. I'm not 100% sure, but I feel like this is the case in most countries.

Yes, I make $20-$25 an hour, which can make you feel no ways (real Drake fans will catch that Easter egg), especially if you’ve been making a steady salary in a a place like New York or SF (let’s not get into it here, but all the more reason to advocate for not paying/treating our teachers like trash). However, it’s consistent money, I can do it anywhere, and $20 goes real far in most places outside the U.S.

The Catch Up

That being said, the side-hustle is EVERYTHING. Proofreading, translating, tutoring, working remotely, waitressing, bartending—anything that doesn’t require a lengthy application process and set hours is ideal. While I was back in the States, I very quickly and easily got a temp job working in my mom’s radiologic imaging office; I got to experience an entirely different line of work and gossip and eat donuts with the girls in the front. I absolutely loved it.

Apps like Grabr or housesitting apps are also excellent ways to make money doing stuff you’re already planning to do. Grabr allows travelers to sign up to bring things to people in their destination country that take too long or are too expensive to ship from their country of origin. This utilized two of my strongest skills—ordering items from Amazon and packing a checked bag weighing exactly fifty pounds. On my trip from the U.S. to Peru, I made over $300. Did I bring a kitchen scale and finely ground white electrolyte powders through South American customs? Yes! Did I assume I’d be going to Peruvian jail? Maybe! Honestly, I was more concerned about the giant car part leaking oil that I brought through TSA in Kansas City (thought about leaving a “This is not a bomb note”—decided against it). The point is: it might have taken a little time, some research, and a bit of aplomb to find opportunities like this, but luckily I had all those things in spades. Disclaimer: Use your judgment. Don’t do weird stuff.

Also, in all honesty, got a pretty cute tax refund this year, seeing as I made a significantly larger sum of money in the half of the year when I was full-time employee in California than when I was a part-time degenerate in Peru.

All Me

As resourceful and savvy as I’m feeling after writing this, I have to come clean. This might be a bit of a bummer for those fiercely independent amongst you: I did not even come close to doing this without a ton of help from my ridiculous circle of incredibly generous family and friends (HAHA GOTCHA, IT WAS NOT ALL ME. SEE? SEE WHAT I DID?) My list of people to thank would surely earn me the wrap-it-up music at the Oscars, but I’ll try anyway: My parents helped my broke ass get home so I wouldn’t be alone for Christmas. My friends from all across the world and all phases of life let me crash with them for weeks at a time (and gave me cute clothes that “looked a little weird on them,” made me banana flaxseed pancakes, and did my laundry). My brother and his smokeshow wife bought me flights and let me move into their giant British mansion to be their nanny (they don’t have kids). My saint of a mother literally gave up her bed and shared her tiny apartment with me, advocated for me to get a job that meant her doubling her workload, and let me eat all her food while standing at the refrigerator like a teenage boy. People have given me advice, contacts, hotel points, and miles. Gratitude will forever be the brush with which the memory of this year was painted.

All in all, I’ve had an overwhelmingly positive, life-changing experience with the joys far outweighing the stresses. It’s not hard to do, and I hope this very Emily-specific example can be of some help to you. Remember, you too can shirk all your responsibilities and run away to a foreign country! Even if you’re 25 sitting on 25… cents.

P.S. If you liked this post, please send me shoes.

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thewinterbunny · 7 years

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TWB International Student Fund Raiser!

Greetings! TWB (The Winter Bunny) here! (See my DA Journal for more, or keep reading below! <3)

Hello everyone! The purpose of this journal is to spread a little awareness of my situation and to help me get back into school in the states via my GoFundMe campaign. This is a very time sensitive issue and the window of opportunity is fast coming to a close. School begins on January 8th, 2018, which is only 2 months away. So, allow me to lay out the foundations of what is happening in my little corner of the world. I want to explain exactly what has happened and what you would be donating to.

Roughly 5 years ago, I was in university, living in the States and getting very close to graduating when tragedy hit. One of my oldest and best friends was a victim of a triple homicide. The case dragged out for 8 to 9 months before it was declared a cold case, and he became another obscure black kid murdered due to gang violence that had nothing to do with him... The only information I could gather were in scattered news reports. His parents would not answer my calls... My friend, his girlfriend and her little brother were all murdered in his home. He was stabbed, and then shot down. The long and short of it is, this mentally broke my down. My roommates, (one of which is on DA) watched my mental health deteriorate and the panic attacks kicked in to high gear and every morning I woke up stricken with fear. To add to this, the funds I had to stay in school and in uni had run out. Meaning, I had to leave the country. So, with this all on my mind, I packed my bags and flew to Australia to be with my dad. 2 weeks after landing, he had a severe heart attack - a triple bypass and wound up in hospital. It was touch and go, and just as he was healing, he developed a gull blade infection, and was back in the hospital for an even longer duration of time. All money saved went out the window again, and I knew I was going to be stuck in Australia for far longer than 6 months... It has been 5 years that I have been here and in those five years we’ve had more funerals than I care to recall. I put my dreams of school on the shelf and went into survival mode and just tried to get used to the fact that I was going to stay here, possibly longer than 5 years. But the opportunity has come to me to start again. A second chance. I have been accepted into University, but the deadline for certain fees is closing. If I miss this window, I will be stuck here in Australia for another year, possibly more, and I cannot bear to think of that as my only option. My GoFundMe campaign is set up in order to help me pay for the International Student Fees that will allow me to obtain my F1 Visa. The cost for this visa is $4,000. What will this money go towards? It goes towards me and my schooling. This money is the “comfort” zone that the uni has set up for International Students and the F1 International Student Visa. The money will be put towards two semesters at school, towards my classes, tuition, books, housing, and food. The university does not keep it but uses it as a means for students like me to have a little peace of mind when we fly overseas to go to uni. So, in order for me to get my visa to enter the country, I need my F1 Visa and in order to get that, I must raise $4,000 grand. That is my target goal. Ontop of this I must also be able to pay to move to the States, and a plane ticket is not cheap. I will be lucky to be able to get there with $2,000. In total, my ideal goal is $6,000 in USD currency - but I am estimating I would be lucky and blessed just to get the $4,000 USD so that is what I am aiming for and my biggest goal at this point in time. Again, this is a time sensitive issue, and one that is causing me more sleepless nights than I care to admit. I’ve been holding art sales to try to make the difference but any money I make goes straight back to bills, rent, food, ect ect. My last big batch of commissions have cost me too much... I was severely under pricing my work, and then putting too much effort and detail into those under priced commissions and I did not realise this till I was almost out of savings and half way through commissions. Shortly after this my laptop broke down entirely. I’ve had to take it in to be fixed twice and have lost ALL my art, my files, documents, everything is gone. I’ve bene having to rebuild everything from scratch, and the cost of repairing my laptop has put a significant dent into my already depleted savings. Because of this, I cannot offer any more art sales at this time except to put food on my table... It is why I have turned to GoFundMe. And every single little bit helps, whether its $5 to $100. I want to go home. I want to see my family again and I want to see and be able to BE with my sweetheart, Quirky-Middle-Child. As most of you are aware, he and I are dating, and have been dating for the last 6 months now. And getting into Uni and getting my F1 Visa would mean that he and I can finally be together in person again as my uni is only an hour and a half away from where he lives. Reaching this goal would mean the world to both of us. At this point, we are searching for a miracle... In the meant time, I’ve been working upwards of 12 hours a day on commissions to strive to get them done so I can open a new batch and proper prices, and I admit I may charge more and explain that it is for school. Right now, we are running on a lot of faith and prayers, and as I said, every little bit helps. Whether its a donation of $5 or $1,000 or even just spreading the word, everything, everything helps at this point. So if you would like to Donate, you can find me GoFundMe link HERE

#TWB #International Student #Saving For Uni #GoFundMe Campaign For TheWinterBunny #Zootopia Artist

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theopenrhode · 5 years

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J'adore French Polynesia! Our honeymoon

Beautiful sunsets seen from a private overwater bungalow were the motivation to keep going during the slog of wedding planning. We plotted an insane honeymoon that ticked off many of our usual adventure travel requirements…multiple destinations, a plethora of activities with little rest, and a few splurges along the way.

Tahiti is a collection of islands in the South Pacific and the name can refer to the entire collection or just the solitary island. Following the advice of many savvy planners before us, we used Tahiti as a jumping off point and headed to many of the more remote and pristine islands to get that true South Pacific feel. Our trip included Tahiti, Moorea, Bora Bora, and Tahaa all in a whirlwind 10 days. While Tahiti is an expensive locale, with some creative planning, you can still construct an affordable trip…AND get that all important overwater bungalow.

Use Those Air Miles!

First, a world about award travel. I was determined to use my miles to pay for the airfare portion of this trip. This, I concede, is a costly flight and being able to get there on miles surely saved a bundle. It does take a PhD in award travel to make this one happen though. As you may know, on American Airlines, you can generally only book award travel on their direct airline. As soon a trip involves partner airline, you must call to explore feasible dates. The problem is that Air Tahiti Nui does not offer a large number of award seats and you could conceivably be on the phone for days attempting to find a workable flight from the East Coast to LAX then Tahiti with award seats. Know that award seats usually open about 270 days in advance; be ready to book early. The other suggestion is use Expert Flyer which is a $5 per month subscription (or one month free after you sign up which is all you need for this endeavor) which lets you search Air Tahiti Nui’s airline for available award seats. Arm yourself with all your flight numbers before you call to reserve. And then in the word’s of Tahiti’s native language..Voila!

Tahiti

The flight from LAX to Tahiti is roughly 8 hours and will arrive early in the morning, so I’d advise having the hotel store your luggage and freshen up before you venture out on Day 1. (Also, grab 2 bottles each of duty free liquor if you choose as it is quite costly on the islands) Tahiti has a bustling downtown with a large open air market and many shops. It’s definitely has the city feel and not exactly what many people envision when they book to Tahiti…they are thinking along the lines of Bora Bora. Nevertheless, we rented a car to tour the main stops which was absolutely worthwhile. We visited Teahupoo a world famous surfing destination known for an enormous break that crashes directly over a reef…not a place for amateurs. We also made a stop at the Arahoho blowhole, a natural rock formation that channels a forceful incoming wave into a small rock tunnel creating a huge blowing spit of water. Our accommodation for the night was the Manava Inn and Suites which is a newer hotel with an amazing infinity pool just perfect for catching that first South Pacific sunset. We dined at the nearby Blue Banana which sits on the water and offers typical Polynesian fare heavy on seafood. The next day we hit up the open air market and grabbed some incredibly fresh smoothies before heading back the airport to head to Moorea.

Air Tahiti Multi Island Pass

Another quick point on airfare between islands. There is a ferry from Tahiti to Moorea that is pretty affordable and would be much cheaper than the plane. However, if you are planning to visit multiple islands, Air Tahiti offers a pass that lets you hop multiple islands for a fixed price. We chose the Bora Bora pass which included potential visits to Bora Bora, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea (from here you can ferry to Tahaa), and Maupiti. Their guidelines for these passes are that they must start or finish in Tahiti or Moorea, you must visit at least 2 islands, each island can only be visited once, and you have to book all of your flights at the time of booking the pass. We capitalized on this pass as it allowed us to visit more islands without tacking on a costly plane ticket each time.

Moorea

In Moorea, we definitely saved the most as we rented an airbnb and cooked most meals for the 3 days we stayed. Our airbnb was incredible and you can view it here. It overlooked the ocean and was constructed mainly out of wood which they imported from Asia with a vast deck with small whirlpool and free kayaks to use. As an added touch, the caretaker greeted us with leis and fresh pineapples and bananas. Check out our video tour of the property! We also rented a small car (the Twingo) which was just large enough for 2 people and 2 suitcases, but it was quite useful for getting around. I would recommend a car for Moorea…there is a lot to see and even if you are staying in a resort, get out and explore! The island is very navigable. Moorea has a main road that circles the entire Island and the drive can be made in about an hour and a half and the driving is the same side as the US which makes it simple. Places we stopped included a drive up to the Belvedere Lookout where you can overlook Opunohu and Cook’s bay separated by the mighty Mount Rotui, a snorkel at Motu Beach at Les Tipaniers Hotel, and a stop at the Moorea Juice Factory (lots of delicious samples!). We chose not to do any organized snorkeling tours here as we planned that later in the trip though it is rumored to be amazing on this island. The island also has a lot of hiking and we did a few short hikes to idyllic waterfalls. Mostly, we enjoyed our waterfront rental with incredible kayaking and snorkeling in front of our door. We also loved using the ample kitchen and having private dining for two (my husband is quite the chef! Me..not so much). Groceries could be pricey but if you capitalize on the items that the French are known for, you’ll find it isn’t so terrible. For example, bread and cheese are both delicious here and you can grab an entire baguette for about 1 USD. In fact, baguettes are so popular here that they have adorable baguette mailboxes where you can get fresh baguettes delivered daily! We definitely indulged in a good portion of cheese and bread! My final cuisine tip is to grab the local produce. We stopped at several roadside fruit stands and grabbed from the tree pineapple which was mouthwatering.

Bora Bora

The next island up on our mini Tahitian tour was the famous Bora Bora. There are some that say it’s overrated…but I really think it’s beloved for a reason. It is beautiful beyond words. I mean the island is literally shaped like a heart…can you beat that for a honeymoon? Flying in you can glimpse the iconic Mounts Otemanu and Pahia rising up in the middle of a turquoise lagoon surrounding by numerous small motus (small reef islands surrounding an atoll). A large number of the resorts are located on motus surrounding the main island. The Bora Bora airport is also located on a motu so everyone who arrives will need a boat transfer to get to the main island. Most accommodations will arrange this for you. However, it is simple if you are doing it unaided. Air Tahiti offers a free shuttle ferry that leaves the airport about 20 minutes after your flight arrives and transports you to Vaitape village, one of the main villages on the island. We used this on the return trip to the airport and it was easy. Arrive to Vaitape about 1.5 hours ahead of your flight and there is a luggage trolley to place your bags, the cost is free, and it will take about 30 minutes to the airport. We stayed at the Sofitel Bora Bora which offers both a mainland option and a private island option. We lucked out a bit here as we booked the mainland option in an overwater bungalow. However, the mainland resort was under construction during our stay and they moved us out of our overwater bungalow. We got ourselves an upgrade to the Sofitel Private Island so we could still have that iconic bungalow. They have a private boat transfer from the airport (at a cost) and as we arrived in Bora Bora on my birthday, we splurged and arrived to the resort in high style! The bungalow here was incredible with a huge bed on which they’d written Happy Birthday in flowers, a glass window in the floor to view the fish swimming below, and a large deck and swim platform. Their private island included the use of kayaks, a gorgeous deck to watch the sunset, and a free shuttle to the mainland. Take your kayak around their island and when you are about 180 degrees from the resort, get snorkeling…there is a hidden underwater message made of coral that says “I LOVE BORA BORA” that makes for quite the underwater photo. Their restaurant on the island was delicious but, as with most resort dining, pricey. Cocktails run about 20 USD each and meals around 30-50 USD. However, an ample breakfast buffet was included. While it is easy to stay in your gorgeous resort for your ENTIRE stay, get out and explore Bora Bora! We rented this adorable tiny car called a Twizzy which essentially felt like a go-cart (see pics) but got us around. If you’re feeling peckish, there are multiple “snack” stands on the beach offering basic Polynesian fare and sandwiches, salads, fries. We ate at Snack Matira on Matira Beach, a large white sand public beach with a beautiful turquoise lagoon. A must do is the obligatory visit to legendary Bloody Mary’s where scores of celebrities have eaten and their names are written on a large wooden board outside of the door. Here you’ll find casual tables atop a sand floor and roaming roosters throughout the restaurant. I’d advise going for lunch as it gets packed at dinner time. Finally, we did a one day swimming with sharks tour which I’d highly recommend. We used Shark Boy Bora Bora which was a half day tour of sharks and stingrays. They picked us up at the hotel and we had a small group that went just outside of the lagoon to swim with black tipped reef sharks (and one very large lemon shark and a moray eel!). On our way back, we stopped to feed the stingrays. The guides were super personable and everyone aboard had a great time…don’t forget lots of sunscreen and your waterproof camera!

Tahaa

Our final island stop was the flower shaped island of Tahaa where breezes carry the sweet vanilla aroma down from numerous vanilla farms that dot the island. We boarded a nighttime flight to Tahaa and arrived around 7 pm. This island was our honeymoon finale and our splurge luxury accomodation. Here we stayed at the impeccable Le Taha’a Private Island Resort and Spa which costs about 700 USD per night. This was definitely way above our usual travel budget but we wanted that final overwater bungalow honeymoon experience. Here though, I will add that I initially booked this many months ahead of time on Orbitz at the 700 rate but I always try to book refundable rates and as the date approaches recheck. I lucked out as about 2 weeks before, the rate reduced to around 500 or so per night so I cancelled my initial reservation and rebooked saving hundreds. I love Orbitz! The service at this Relais and Chateaux hotel was excellent. From the moment our bags hit the luggage carousel, a representative from the hotel had them in hand and whisked them and us to a spectacular teak boat that would transport us to the resort located on it’s own private motu. The boat ride is about 45 minutes and if we could, we’d have chosen an earlier flight from Bora Bora to make this trip in the daylight; however, the arrival was no less impressive with a cavernous open air lobby and fragrant flower crowns for our heads. The room was nothing short of incredible…a huge bed in the middle of a very spacious room adorned with a bed of flowers fashioned into a heart shape greeted us. There was also a glass topped chest at the foot of the bed that could be opened to view the fish. A huge soaking tub (with another small fish window) and large polynesian wooden doors separated the bathroom from the main room. A huge floor to ceiling glass slider gave us a dream worthy view of the turquoise waters surrounding the motu and a giant private deck with lounge chair completed the very impressive bungalow. You could also walk down the wooden steps from your deck directly into the water for a quick dip to cool off. I think this was the MOST spectacular room in which we have stayed. The rest of the resort packed no less of a punch. There is a large infinity pool with a pool bar, named Le Place, and two other on side restaurants, Le Vanille, the main restaurant which feels like you’re eating in a treehouse, and Ohiri, a reservations only dining space. Similar to other Tahiti resorts, the food here is very costly, heavily seafood based and cocktails cost about 20 USD. We did dine here a few times and it was very delicious; however, we much preferred room service where they would set up more basic fare (club sandwiches, burgers, pastas) on your private deck and the setup was pretty grand. The final tip is that you can take their free shuttle to the mainland and there is a basic pizza place, Ma’a Viti Pizza, located there to grab a quick bite. It is really the only place near the resort to dine that you can get to from the resort’s private motu and the food is inexpensive and it is a nice contrast from the pricey resort options. Of note, the resort frowns up bringing this back to their motu, so you can either eat it there or you’ll have to smuggle it in! Mostly we relaxed at the resort and enjoyed their Coral Garden teeming with thousands of fish located just steps from the bungalow located in the channel between the resort and the neighboring motu. It was really simple to don your suit and snorkel gear and hop in numerous times a day. Tip: Walk all the way up the garden to the very end were the current enters and then you can just float through the coral garden with the current and feel completely weightless while you watch beautiful fish pass by. Here we also saw an octopus and a lion fish! They also supply kayaks and paddleboards for free so you can get out and explore the crystal clear waters and watch rays pass under your board. We did one full day tour while in Tahaa which was quite a packed day including a tour to a rum distillery, a stop at Iaorana Pearl Farm, a vanilla farm, and a ride out to swim again with black tipped reef sharks. It was the utmost in convenience with a pick up and drop off right at Le Taha’a’s dock and a midday stop at a private motu for a Polynesian lunch. We did actually book this tour directly from the hotel, which we rarely do, as it was convenient to get the dockside pickup. We ended our honeymoon at Le Taha’a watching the sunsets on the western part of the motu which overlooks Bora Bora…not a bad way to end a honeymoon.

Champagne Splurge

Le Tahaa was our major splurge this trip. We NEVER spend this much per night on an accommodation, but Le Taha’a is glamorous. While costly, it still is a bargain compared to splurging on an overwater bungalow on say Bora Bora which can easily cost $1K per night or more. My advice would be to pick a place to splurge for just a few nights and use less expensive options like an airbnb on the other days.

Champagne 'Buzz'worthy

There is no better place in the world to purchase vanilla than on Tahaa…the Vanilla Island. Tahaa produces 80% of French Polynesia’s vanilla and a visit to a farm is an educational experience to learn this labor intensive process. We visited La Vallee de la Vanille which gave us an overview of the process and we purchased some vanilla to take home. Decadently fragrant and worth the cost!

Insider Tips

Take advantage of duty free liquor while at the airport. Liquor and cocktails are pricey in Tahiti and you can take 2 bottles of liquor AND 2 bottles of wine/champagne per person and they don’t count toward you luggage weight!Consider the Air Tahiti multi island pass if you plan on visiting more than one island. It can result in substantial savings.You’ll need more sunscreen than you think! and it is pricey out in Tahiti so make sure you pack enough for your stay. For those with longer hair, consider a spray detangler for your hair. I find this to be essential for snorkeling. It helps to smooth hair that may have been snagged by a snorkel mask or seaweed.You really need a waterproof camera for this trip - the wildlife is all under the water and you’ll want to capture the proof that you had a shark weaving it’s way toward you.One of the major costs of your Tahitian adventure is dining. Try to get off the resort if you can and you’ll find local food much more reasonable. Or, even better, use an airbnb for some of your stay and you can do some cooking. Eat like the French with baguettes and cheese and you’ll save quite a bit.Do spurge for the overwater bungalow for the quintessential experience but you won’t need it for every night of your stay…switch things up and use it for only part of your journey. Read the full article

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