#like i took it less than 15 minutes ago and it already has me feeling so sleepy

[minotaurfemme]

god prog starts kicking in so fucking fast when boofed

[annawritesblog]

Eyes off you (c.l.)

Summary: Y/n and Charles have been together for 2 years and Charles has a special surprise for her.

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago so if there’s any mistakes in it, feel free to tell me:) Also, English is not my first nor my second language so excuse my spelling and/or grammar errors. I recommend listening to the attached song as it plays in the background later in the story. Enjoy🤍

Charles' P.O.V.

Are you still at home? Came the message from Arthur.

Yes, we're leaving in 15 minutes, come in about 30. I wrote back.

I put my phone in the right pocket of my suit pants, the left being full with the red velvet box. I took a final look in the mirror and after a few quick breaths, Y/n appeared from the bathroom.

"I'm ready." She says and puts a lipgloss in her purse. Her purple dress showing her curves just right, like a princess.

"My God. You look absolutely stunning, chérie." I say and wrap my arms around her waist leaving little kisses in the crook of her neck.

"You don't look bad yourself." Smiles the girl I've been in love with for almost 2 years. "Stop." She warms as I still kiss her neck slowly moving down to her collarbone.

"Can't we just stay home?" I ask, but I realize that that would be the worst idea ever, considering that in less than 30 minutes my brothers will be here. "I mean, no. We should really go, hurry even."

She turns around and furrows her brows. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's wonderful, love." I grab her small hand and guide her out of the penthouse. After locking the door, we take the elevator to the underground parking house. Opening the door for her, she sits in the black Ferrari.

The ride is less than 15 minutes, but it feels so much more than that. She talks about how happy she is that we're going to this birthday party, but I can barely process anything she's saying. "Oh, I left my phone at home."

"Are you serious?" I ask and she nods worriedly. "I can't turn around."

"Why?"

"We're already late, Carlos will kill me if we make it there after Isa." I try to lie, hoping she doesn’t suspect anything.

"Okay, you're gonna have to take pictures then." She lets go easily.

A few minutes later we arrive at the beautiful venue in Monte Carlo. We walk inside, hand in hand and see that almost everybody is there.

"You were right. We really are late." She says and we giggle a little, just the two of us, our little private space.

"Sorry, mate. We're here." I half-hug Carlos, who just shrugs it off saying it's fine.

"Okay, okay. She's coming." Carlos tells us and when his missis arrives we all scream happy birthday to her.

Y/n and I spend a little time talking to Isa, but I excuse myself to another table where some strangers sit. I open the last texts from Arthur, saying that they have arrived about 10 minutes ago. I quickly text some informations, although I explained everything to them yesterday, but I want everything to be perfect, she deserves nothing less.

"Boo." Y/n says behind me, which does scare me. How long has she been staying there? Hopefully not long at all. "What are you doing?"

"Answering some texts from the team." I say and she gives me a dissapointed look. "I know and I am sorry, chérie. That was the first and last, I promise." I put my phone in my pocket and I kiss her hand sweetly. We walk to Carlos' table where he gives me a reassuring look.

"Y/n, come, you have to look at this." Isa grabs her arm and drags her away.

"How are you feeling, man?" The spaniard infront of me asks.

"Nervous."

"You don't have to be, she'll say yes." Carlos comes closer to me.

"What if she won't? Maybe she's not ready yet. We have been together for almost 2 years, that's soon, isn't it?" I go in full panick mode.

"What? It's not too soon, if you're ready, than nothing's too soon." He pats my shoulder. "They're coming." I look behind me and I see Y/n and Isa walking towards our table.

"Look what we found. Chocolate covered fruits, this is the best day of my life." Isa says with a full mouth and my missis just laughs next to her. I wrap my arm around her waist, securing her close to me.

About 2 hour later, after I got a text from my brothers saying they're done with everything, we decided to go home.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." I whisper in Y/n's ear, letting her go from my embrace.

"Okay, I'll be here." I give her a peck on her cheek and walk towards the restrooms.

Kicking the door open with my feet, I rest my hands on the sink trying to catch my breath. I promised my brothers that I would call them before we start heading home. After 2 rings Lorenzo picks it up. "Hey, what's up?"

"We're just leaving. Everything ready?"

"Yes, everything's disgustingly perfect." My little brother yells and drops something.

"What was that?" I ask immediately.

"My phone, fuck."

Lorenzo sighs and says something to him that I don’t hear. "Are you okay?"

"Not really, shitting my pants right now." I sigh.

"You don't need to be scared. She's gonna say yes, I'm sure." My big brother says.

"One hundred percent. Who wouldn't wanna marry you?" Arthur laughs in the phone.

"Thank you?"

"I was trying to lighten the mood." Arthur says and I let out a little laugh.

"Listen. Do you remember the Australian GP? How nervous you were? For days, you couldn't think straight you were that scared and you ended up winning it. Think about this as a race. You're nervous before it, but the outcome will be perfect." Lorenzo says and I can sense that they're both smiling.

"Thanks, both of you. I owe you both."

"You don't owe us anything, this is what siblings are for." Arthur says and we hang up. I go back to the main room and after a few short goodbyes, we get in the car.

"It was so much fun!" Y/n exclaims and I put my hand on her thigh.

"Yes, it was." I agree.

Se turns her head my way as I start my car. "Where's your mind?" She tries to be cool about it, but I know she's worried.

"In Australia." I answer with a smile.

"Oh, really? What kind of mistresses do you have there?" She smirks and I slow down a bit. We can't be home, before they've left. For once I'll keep the speed limit in mind.

"One, only. I spent like a week there with her. She was wow, like she had a blue lingerie set that she wore after I won. That was something, kept me up all night." I smirk smuggly and my hand travels further up her thigh. She lets out a shaky breath and looks at me.

"Do you remember that?"

"I think I'll remember that forever." We stop at a red light. "Where's that set, anyway?"

"You might see it around this weekend." She looks out the window, clearly blushing.

"Then, I'll have to give my best in this race." My hand travels even more north on her, already feeling her warmth. Althought, this is not going anywhere for a little while.

"You better, mister."

"You already know I will."

"Mrs? I'm not married." She says followed by a few giggles. I messed this up.

We spend the rest of the car ride listening to music and talking about the party. By the time I park the car, I'm sure that my brothers are already home.

I take my keys out and try to put it in the keyhole, but it falls to the floor. I pick it up and place it in again, only for it to slip out of my hand again. "Merde." I curse as I pick it up from the floor.

"Okay, babe. What's wrong?" Y/n asks as I can finally open the goddamn door.

"Nothing is wrong, love. I drank too much coffee." By this time I'm sure she doesn't believe a word I'm saying, but I can't just tell her that I'm nervous she'll say no to marrying me. She'll found out soon anyway, I won't blow it at the last meters.

"We really have to stop drinking so much coffee it's not-" Her words are lost. She looks outside our balcony and slowly back to me. "What is this?" She starts walking towards the table full of her favourites.

I wrap my arms around her waist, while she wraps her hands around my neck. "You deserve it. You've been next to me, when I was at my worst, especially nowadays. Thank you, chérie."

I kiss her passionately and she fumbles with my hair.

"You didn't have to do this, Charles. I will always be there for you." She sits on one of the chairs and looks at the beautiful view of the city. I sit in front of her and start the light music from my phone.

"Oh my God. Macarons." She exclaims and pops one of them in her mouth.

"It's from the bakery you like so much." I say and just watch her face light up. I don't know if it's because of the lights or because I'm obsessed with her, but she's glowing. Just as beautiful as she was when I met her on the streets of Monte Carlo two summers ago. Walking up and down confusedly in her white sundress.

"What is it?" She asks looking deeply into my eyes

"I'm just so in love with you." I take her hand and rest it on top of the table. "That simple."

"You're gonna make me cry."

"Don't cry, baby." I lock our fingers together. "Let's dance instead." I guide her to the end of the balcony where there's space for us to dance. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her as close as I can and rest my forehead on hers. Eyes off you starts playing just in time. Just like I planned it would.

It's our song. It played in the restaurant I took her to on our first date, only knowing each other for 3 days, a few days later when we first kissed and I played it when I asked her to move in with me in Monaco. And now when I propose to her.

"Do you think about the future?" I ask her slowly swaying her to the music.

"I'm only thinking about the future." She giggle then adds: "But yes. Although it's pretty foggy, you are crystal clear." She says sweetly which makes my heart melt. How did I deserve her?

"Same here. You're light as the bright sunshine for me, angel. Always be with you." I lean in closer and whisper in her ear. "This song is gonna play at our wedding."

I can tell she doesn't know where to put this information, but she nods slowly. I step back from her and I can tell that she has realised what's happening. With shaky hands I take the velvet box out of my pocket and get on one knee. She covers her mouth with both of her hands and tears have already filled her eyes. "Chérie. You don't even know what you do to me. For almost two years now, you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I fall asleep. I have never even dreamed that I would end up next to someone as perfect as you are." She now covers her whole face with her palms and silent sobs leave her mouth. "Look at me, angel." She looks at me and I can already feel my eyes watering. "No matter what happens, you will always have me, I promise you. I promise to give you everything your heart desires, everything you need. So, my love, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?" I open the small box revealing the rare diamond ring.

"Yes, yes. A thousand times yes, Charles." She says and I hug her closely. We only part for the few seconds it takes to put the ring on her finger. Without hesitation, she kisses me and I caress her cheeks with my hands. A few minutes later we pull away and I wipe away tears from her cheeks.

"Don't cry." I say.

"You're crying too. It's allowed." She laughs which makes me too.

"Look at you, already acting like a wife." I pull her close yet again and breath in her scent. My fiancee's scent.

[azulera]

Sweet Like Açai

Pairing: TAA x Black Reader

Summary: He’s still raw from a rough break-up, his club is trudging through a mid-season slump, and somehow Trent still develops a fat crush on the server at Merseyside’s newest smoothie place.

Notes: this will be my last story for a while, but it is a longer one, and who doesn't love wingman curtis and flustered shy trentski 😃 here is chapter 1, but all other chaps will be posted on ao3. pls enjoy and do tell me what you think!

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The new café that Curtis suggests is only a 15-minute drive from AXA, so after their last meetings and quick showers they take off in his Range Rover and make it there in ten. The owner, he says, is a friend of the Jones family, a former footballer who took the constant chiding of his nutritionists to heart and built a second career from it, and Curtis promises Trent that it’s the best combination of chilled fruit, yogurt, granola and whatever other superfood magic that he’s ever tasted.

But it’s not that Trent needs the backstory that his teammate gives or really much convincing at all - after training his stomach feels as big and empty as a house, and, even still, he figures he deserves it. The past months have been less than kind to him, and closer to brutal: the team’s performance has continued to nosedive in what by Liverpool standards was already an aggressively average season, and he’s still deciding if he’s moved on from the mutual but still painful breakup with his long-term girlfriend two months ago. “Self-care” is a foreign thing he’s been trying to practice at the insistence of his mum and Hendo, since they claim it’s okay to let himself have nice things, to not always push harder when the going is already tough.

A quick, sugary pick-me-up can’t possibly do too much more damage.

A little bell chimes as they step in the door and the air that greets them is pleasantly cool, and sweet. Dark purples and greens blend with browns and oranges on the walls in a swirling pattern, and rustic wood tables with high stools are arranged in rows from one side of the space to the other. There’s a couple sat together at a spot near the window, twin purple cups in front of them, and a single, serious-looking man on a laptop near the back, but the line to order and the self-serve kiosks are both empty. Curtis walks up to the counter, as in any room, like he lives there, and has been there a million times.

“The açai one’s gonna blow your mind, lad, I swear to ya. Plus, the place is Black-owned and that, supportin the community.”

Trent laughs once before settling his hands in the pockets of his sweats and looking up to the menu. There are too many options, really, but at the moment his stomach is non-discriminating.

“Yeah, it better. Won’t shut up about it, you. What’s good- the bowl or smoothie?”

“Hold on – Y/N? Is that you?”

Trent’s question goes unanswered, and smothered by the sound of Curtis’ yell. His voice lifts across the space, shouting the unfamiliar name another time, and again Trent is astounded by just how loud his teammate’s voice can be. That level of volume is helpful on the pitch but embarrassing in public, and Trent feels the eyes of at least one of the patrons on them.

“Curtis? Curtis Jones? Oh my days, one second–”

The ceramic counter holding the ingredients curves around into a small kitchen entrance on the left, and from where he’s standing, Trent can’t see what, or whoever it is that Curtis sees. But the mutual excitement in the voices can’t be missed.

“No way! Get over here!”

Curtis shouts, bouncing on his toes. A moment later, a blur of movement in the shape of a girl flies in from the kitchen, and has Curtis pulled into a tight hug. His teammate reciprocates, and Trent can see his shoulder muscles working to tighten the squeeze, even with the width of counter between them.

“Long time no see, Curt. Was starting to think you were something we dreamed up, only ever see you on the telly.”

Trent can soon confirm the voice does belong to a girl, and on the first glance he gets of her face it is slightly squished against Curtis’ shoulder, but painted in a look of open, undisguised surprise and happiness. It’s the kind of strong emotion he would only ever show on the pitch, almost never in a public place like this, and it almost feels like too much to witness such vulnerability from someone he doesn’t yet know, and who’s heartfelt reunion he seems to be third-wheeling on. He would look away, but his eyes betray him and zoom in, already busy taking inventory without consulting him first.

They start at her skin, which is glowy and smooth, and the same color he likes his tea, on the off day where he does drink a cup. He thinks it’s probably poor to compare a woman to a beverage, in fact, he knows it is, but blames it on his grumbling stomach and moves on. His gaze locks next on her lips, because she and Curtis are speaking again, loudly.

“Could say the same to you, can’t I, been ages since I’ve seen ya! And I’m loving the hair.”

“Yeah, wanted to try something different. It’s been a few years since I’m growing them.”

Her hair, Trent notices when he pulls his eyes from her face, is in locs like his, but lighter brown with amber highlights strewn throughout. They swing about her shoulders as she moves, so that she regularly has to push the strands back behind her ears, away from her face. The familiarity of the movement triggers a thing in his brain that yells “Me too!”, and his eyes travel the rest of her, suddenly hungry to find more things he recognizes. The first are her eyes, which are a warm, chocolatey brown, maybe two shades lighter than his own. The close second is that he finds her unpredictably, and undeniably attractive.

That feeling inside him that went dormant two months ago starts to fidget.

“How is everythin, though? Uni? And how’s the fam?” Curtis asks.

The two of them continue catching up with excitement that hasn’t yet worn off, and Trent stands to the side, trying not to intrude and trying not to be awkward. In a way he hopes is sly, he continues scrutinizing her features while intermittently looking at his shoes, up at the artsy menu board where the offerings are, impressively, engraved rather printed, and briefly at his phone.

He should, he supposes, listen politely to their conversation, try and contribute, but in truth he only checks back in after a loud burst of laughter. She's covering her mouth with one hand, and Curtis is straightening up from being almost doubled over.

“Whoo, I had nearly forgotten about that, you know! Your brother used to be absolutely mad. But hey, I was round here last week and didn’t see you. Are you workin here now?”

“Yeah, I am.” She pulls at the cafe emblem on the corner of her mauve t-shirt. “I’ll be working the front end of things while we’re still small. Only been at it a few days now, but Dad’s made sure I’m working hard.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you tell the big man he ought to hire some more staff, ‘cause me, I’ll be telling the whole city about this place. Dragged Trentski here as soon as I could, just to show him. Me first convert.”

The sound of his nickname evaporates whatever was left of his distraction, and he steps forward a little, as if finally being invited into the conversation. He looks up and finds she’s looking back at him.

“Alright?” She asks, smiling. “I’m Y/N.”

She waits for him to introduce himself even though if she’s a friend of Curtis and a footballer’s daughter, she surely knows who he is. Or does she? Either way, he decides he likes her for it.

“I’m Trent. Nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too, Trent. Let me get Curt situated and then I’ll be right with you, yeah?” She smiles again, and it isn’t one of those plastic, forced customer service smiles, but one that lasts, like she means it. The light from it floods her eyes, and makes them even shinier, independent of the artificial lighting buzzing above them. In it’s glow, his chest does that stupid thing where it feels filled up with too much air.

He watches as she moves down the line and makes his teammate’s bowl with laser focus, trying to guess if what he’s sensing is just politeness, if her smile lasts as long every time. When the flash of white does appear behind her lips again, and twice more before she calculates Curtis’ total at the register, he gets too distracted by it to count the seconds.

“What would you like?” Too quickly she’s in front of him again, hands poised around a brown paper bowl.

“Em, yeah,” He clears his throat. “A bowl, please. Not a smoothie. The açai one?”

“Good choice.” She nods, while scooping portions of the purple fruit-yogurt mix into the container. “Any special add-ins for you today? Plant protein, energy, antioxidants?”

The health-food buzzwords set off signals in his head, and he gives the answer that would make his nutritionist proud.

“Need all of it, honestly.”

She laughs again, but it feels different this time, since he’s the one who made it happen, not Curtis.

“Good boy. Bet your nutritionist loves you. Which fruits?”

Trent freezes a second, affected in equal amounts by the “good boy” and the feeling that she’d read his mind. She pushes the right side of her locs back behind her ear in the silence.

“What about banana? It goes really well with the açai.” She offers.

“Yeah, banana’s good.”

She nods again and uses metal tongs to arrange the pale yellow pieces artfully over the yogurt. He goes on, choosing available fruits from the names listed on the clear glass shield, and trying not to stumble, again. The bowl gradually fills up, and it’s a smooth exchange – it’s much easier to do this, to talk and focus, he realizes, when her face is turned down – until they reach the last two options.

“Pineapple?”

“Em, nah, no pineapple, it-” The next bit of information he adds not because it’s particularly important, but because their interaction is almost over, and he doesn’t want it to be. “-makes me tongue feel—”

“All tingly? Yeah, that’s a thing!”

Her eyes light up as she exclaims and to Trent it seems her face sudddenly changes over — there’s more color in her cheeks, and vibration in her voice. But maybe he’s imagining it. She flits the tongs through the air as she continues.

“There’s an enzyme in pineapple, bromelain, that breaks down proteins, and you’ve got a bunch of those on your tongue and cheeks. It’s what makes it so acidic, and makes it burn a little to eat, but it’s interesting, cause, bromelain is also really good for you? Helps treat inflammation, and indigestion-“

“Not now, Y/N, just give the lad his food! If he wanted a lecture he would have gone uni with you.” Curtis teases from near the register, looking up from where he’d been on his phone, waiting. She graces him with a beautiful and dramatic roll of her eyes, but when she turns back to Trent they’re sincerely apologetic.

“I get a little carried away with the nutrition thing, forgive me. It’s nice to have Curt here, though, to keep me humble. Coconut?”

Trent wants to say, “No, it’s okay, I don’t mind it” but all he manages is a kind smile. He could care less now if she adds the shredded bits of white to his order or not, but he wants her to keep looking at him, for the excited glow on her face from when she’d mentioned food science to return.

“Em, yeah. Thank you.”

Minutes later, their bowls are bagged and paid for and they’re heading towards the door, fond words of parting on all their lips.

“You all come back, okay?” Y/N probes, pulling out from another Curtis, cross-counter hug. “And I’ll tell me brother and Dad you came in, Curt, they’ll be buzzin.”

“Oh for sure, I’ll send him a text as well. It’s been so nice seeing ya.”

“Same. And hope to see you again, too, Trent. Not just on the telly.” She waves at him, more a wiggle of her fingers, and it should look silly but somehow it isn’t. He wiggles his own back, and hopes it works for him too.

In the car, they dig in, setting aside the plastic lids unceremoniously on the dash. Curtis is obnoxious about the cleanliness and quality of many things, his clothes, trainers, and phone screen, but strangely his car isn’t one of them.

The bowl Trent ordered turns out to be far better than average. The yogurt is perfectly tart and tangy, the fruit crisp and juicy and the açai deliciously purple. He still hasn’t got the girl from the counter, Y/N, out of his head.

He’s four bites in when he finally asks the question bumping around his brain the past five minutes.

“How’d you know her again?”

“Who? Y/N? Her brother’s me mate. She was a year older, but we all grew up together in Toxteth. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Do you fancy her?”

“No-what lad?” Trent screws his face his up, unsure how indignant he truly is, and though he saw the question coming. Curtis only shrugs.

“I said, do you fancy her? I saw your face while yous was talkin, and you almost never ask after girls. Just pull with your mind games or telepathy or whatever it is you do.”

Trent gets a mouthful of coconut to formulate his answer, and the taste makes his stomach feel funny. He remembers why he doesn’t usually go for it.

“No, I mean, I think she’s good-lookin, yeah, but I don’t fancy her. Don’t even know her.”

“S’not hard to change that- I could put in a word for ya. Know she’s real busy, real serious about school and that, but you’re you, innit. Trent Alexander-Arnold. Be mad not to go for it.”

Trent lets the drama of Curtis’ compliment slide off him with a shake of his head. But the “you’re you” sticks; it’s what he’s been telling himself the two month’s he’s been girlfriend-less and on a season high not-winning streak, sitting middle of the table with indications to fall. He’ll keep on repeating it, or hearing it repeated to him, until it feels true again.

“You don’t feel weird about that? Since she’s your mate and all?”

“Why would I? You’re both sound people, better than sound. And if chattin to her gets rid of that kicked-dog look you’ve been wearin the past month, brother, I’ll plan the weddin.”

“I haven’t been— there won’t be-“ Trent splutters, before resigning to the chaos that is his closest teammate and friend. “I’ll keep the offer in mind, lad. But let me finish me smoothie bowl first, yeah? Let’s start there.”

“Okay, okay. You’ll remember I told you so.”

Trent keeps eating, lets Curtis switch the subject, and it's not until he’s home, scrolling the lists of Liverpool-based Instagram profiles containing the name “Y/N”, that he questions just what would be the subject of his friend’s “I told you so” — Y/N or the smoothie. He decides to treat him to another one tomorrow to find out.

[meanbossart]

A long over-due ask compilation (Art & Music)

It's vaguely based on a short story from the book "The Consumer" by Michael Gira, specifically "The Boss". I think it came up in conversation with a friend or something when I was picking a new username, so that's how we arrived at it - this was almost a decade ago so, my memory on it is a little hazy!

{MORE UNDER THE CUT]

HAHA thank you so much!!! Glad you enjoy what I do 😎🍻

I BELIEVE this little guide I put together over here might be helpful to you, also! I touched on pretty much everything you brought up.

As for reference material when it comes to facial expressions, I have a mirror next to my desk which I glance at often and make weird faces at LOL and for consistency, it's really a matter of learning to dissect and remember facial structure. It's just something you end up developing an eye for when you've done it for long enough! Naturally, if we're talking about drawing existing characters, it's always helpful to just look at some pictures of their mugs and take a minute to define what features about them make their faces recognizable - I touch on this at the link above as well!

I do plan on making a "drowstarion" (love that, by the way LOL) playlist eventually, life's just been kicking my ass and I hardly have the time 😭and when I do, I just wanna draw.

Otherwise I don't have any other playlists floating around at the moment, BUT the one my boyfriend made for his Vellioth comic can be found here, and it might scratch a similar itch!

Thank you! I believe this was in reference to this post. Something like that takes me about... An hour??? If we're talking just the colors, at least. Though that's a really rough estimate because I take a lot of breaks, so my sense of time when I work ends up pretty skewed. Even if the application of the colors themselves took less than 20 minutes I probably spent 2 hours just staring at it LOL.

My friend, I have no idea. I'm in a constant battle between "I want to draw more realistically" and "I want to simplify my art so I can draw more/faster". What you see is the result of that ongoing brain-tug-of-war.

Also, just the way I assume everyone else develops theirs - they see stuff they like and emulate it until their art is Frankensteinish enough to be it's own unique thing!

I'm far from a Type O Negative buff, BUT I'm happy to share some of my favorites with you! They're quite scattered across a couple of their albums so I'm not sure I have a favorite, but I would say October Rust is a good starting point.

In no particular order, these are my most listened tracks of theirs: -Love You to Death -Black N.01 -Haunted -She Burned Me Down -Can't Lose You -I Don't Wanna Be Me -Be My Druidess -September Sun -Tripping A Blind Man

Alas, I was one of those people who was already drawing in kindergarten 😅 though I would say I only started taking it seriously when I was around 15-16 years old. As someone who has tried their hand at several other hobbies since reaching adulthood, I get what you're saying that it can kinda feel like... You missed the wagon? I've felt that way about all kind of things lol

That said, I've seen adults managing to develop their art skills extremely fast and effectively before. Understanding where and how you need to improve, and how to follow lessons/guides best is something that is vastly improved by maturity and knowing how to best hone your time, attention, and resources - and those are skills we completely lack as children. So, I sincerely believe that as long as you commit yourself, you can definitely get to a point that you're happy with in a couple of years if not less.

JUST DO IT BUDDY we are all just people looking through a screen and you won't ever see, talk, or meet 99% of the folks who ever clap eyes on what you post. Whenever you start getting nervous about sharing something, take a minute to ask yourself why you're nervous, and if none of the reasons have any genuine substance besides being afraid of what people "might think", just go ahead and post it. You're no mind-reader after all, and if you are, I doubt you can hear what a guy from Argentina or wherever is thinking about the art you made.

Point is, nobody online can touch you 🤷and if someone doesn't like what you do, they can simply choose to not interact with it, and if they do you can block and move on. There are zero reasons for you to feel "bad" about putting up a doodle when our experiences on the web are so easily curated nowadays.

[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- Part 6

masterlist After going to Pablo's place last week he's been really busy with physio at the club so we haven't talked quite as much which has been kind of a good thing as it has allowed me to process what happened when I left his. Sure a kiss on the cheek is probably normal to some people but with Pablo it really threw me off as I've realised that I have feelings for him but of course we are just friends so all of the things that the kiss made me feel I need to bury them deep down and forget about them. Having a few days with less contact has helped me to push away my feelings as I'm not being reminded of them as often. Today however Pablo is coming over to my place as it's on his way home and don't get me wrong I'm happy to see him but I'm a bit nervous as I don't know if I'll make things awkward. 

Last night I made my brother help me tidy my apartment as I have been slacking a bit with cleaning as its quite hard for me to run the hoover around and reach certain shelves to put things back or dust. The place definitely isn't fully clean but it's better than it was and I know Pablo won't really care it was more just for me. This morning I also realised I don't have much food or at least not healthy food so I had to drag myself to the nearest store to get some things which was more difficult than I anticipated but I made it home in one piece eventually. By the time I got home I was already exhausted as it takes a lot of effort to walk anywhere now and because I'm not training everyday I'm not as fit as I was a few months ago. 

Before Pablo arrived I took some time to lay down but I didn't get long as it took me so long to get to and from the store. I had about 15 minutes before the buzzer to my apartment went off and I allowed Pablo in before texting him to tell him I'd come down and meet him as my apartment isn't the easiest to find. When I made it to the lobby Pablo was waiting for me with a big smile on his face and something in his hand which he handed to me telling me it was a smoothie from this place he likes to go to sometimes after training. I thanked him and after I tasted the smoothie per his request we made our way up to my apartment.

As we walked in I locked the door behind us but when I turned round Pablo had disappeared from my sight. It didn't take me long to find him though because as soon as I turned the corner into the living room he was stood looking at some of the pictures I have hanging up. He was looking at the collage of pictures I have up which has a mixture of pictures of me with my friends and family and some of me from competitions mostly from when I was younger. I don't look at the pictures that much as I'm used to them being here so I forget that other people find it interesting to look at childhood photos. 

"How old were you in this picture?" Pablo asked looking at a picture of me receiving a medal at a competition while being surrounded by girls much taller than me

"I think I was 9 or maybe just turned 10 but the other girls were mostly 12 or 13" I said 

"Wow and you beat them all" he commented 

"Yeah pretty much since I started gymnastics I've been competing against girls much older than me" I explained 

"Thats so amazing you'll have to show me some videos of you doing gymnastics" he said 

"I can do that I have loads of videos on my laptop as I always have to analyse my performances afterwards" I said 

He looked at a few other pictures and made fun of how I would have my hair in two little pigtails pretty much at all times when I was little even when I didn't have much hair to put up. After he was done laughing at me I grabbed my laptop and let him pick some videos of my recent competitions for us to watch. He was so enthralled by all of the videos after every one he asked me to tell him what I was doing as we watched it again. I loved that he was taking such an interest as I know he doesn't really know anything about gymnastics but he was making an effort to learn and that means a lot as most people I meet don't seem to care at all. He wanted to know all about what it's like at a competition and how the scoring works so he could get as much of a full experience as possible without actually going to a competition. 

Since we've met I've been watching a lot more football and I've watched some compilations of Pablo playing too because I felt like I should know more and I was curious. I must say despite my lack of knowledge Pablo seems like an excellent player and hopefully one day I can see him play in person. I have never been into football or really watched much as I have always training or at competitions on weekend and when I wasn't I was always at my brothers races so it's never something that crossed my mind. While watching I tried to make sense of the rules but there were just some things that made no sense to me so I asked Pablo while we were talking about our sports. He did his best to explain everything and he told me more about his team so I knew who everyone was for when I next watch a game. 

We did other things for a while until Pablo told me that Barcelona were playing in the champions league so we put the game on and started watching it together. It didn't take long before I saw how truly passionate about football Pablo is because straight away he was shouting at the team and he got so annoyed when they conceded. I tried my best to offer a more positive outlook as Pablo kept saying the team were going to lose but it didn't help so I just watched. As the match progressed I got increasingly tired but I wanted to stay awake and watch the game; Pablo must've noticed this as he pulled me into his side and leaned my head against his shoulder to allow me to rest a bit. As we kept watching I rested my eyes a few times but I was always woken up again by Pablo but it was ok because the entire time he was tracing shapes on my side which was really relaxing.

The match eventually ended with a loss for Barcelona so Pablo wasn't happy but I tried my best to cheer him up and eventually I got him smiling and laughing again. Once he was happy we avoided talking about sports for a while instead we watched tiktoks until we were both laughing our asses off which really lightened the mood. Pablo's laugh is so infectious that once he started laughing I couldn't help myself and then we were done for we didn't stop laughing for a good 10 minutes. When we finally stopped we had to take a few minutes to each catch our breath and just calm down. 

"Have you ever been to a football match?" Pablo asked breaking the silence 

"No I haven't" I replied 

"Well I was going to watch the teams next home game this weekend would you want to come with me?" He asked 

"I'd love to but only if it's not a problem and you want me to" I said 

"Of course I want you there it will be fun I want to bring you to your first football game" he said 

"I suppose if I'm going to attend a football match it might as well be with a professional player" I laughed 

"Good I'll come and pick you up before the match and we'll go together and you can meet the rest of the boys" he said 

The thought of meeting the rest of Pablo's teammates is already making me anxious but I'm excited to go to a game in person and with Pablo who I know is dying to go and be with his friends it should be a fun night. 

[stardustshelb]

"Strawberry" Part One

Word count: 6,749

Chapter One

“Are you sure you can’t drive me to the airport in the morning?” I asked Kenneth wearily. I knew he was reluctant to allow me to go to Nashville for Riley’s bachelorette weekend. He says he’s worried about my safety, but I know the truth is that he doesn’t want me to go out without him, especially with a group of girls.

He groaned, “I have to be at work by 8 a.m. and your flight leaves at noon. I’m not sure if you know how time works but–”

“My plane leaves at 2 p.m. I have to be there by noon,” I interjected before he finished his insult.

“Whatever. Either way, I can’t swing it. Just drive yourself or get one of your friends to give you a ride,” he said as he shut the bathroom door in my face.

He knows good and well that Riley and our other friends live hours away in other states. Everyone got out of this town the second we graduated college. Well, everyone except me. Kenneth took over his father’s business so I stayed behind too. I don’t resent him for it; I love my small town. I love that my family is no more than 15 minutes away in every direction. I love my job and my students. I love my  simple two-bedroom home where I spend most of my evenings alone with Sassy, my border collie. I love my comfortable life. But I hate that my best friend since middle school took a marketing job that required her to move 738 miles away from me.

Life sometimes gets lonely when your closest friends are your coworkers who are old enough to be your parents. Finding a teaching job in this small town was easy because I went to school here. My classroom is the same classroom I once sat in to learn 9th grade English; now I am on the other side of the desk.

When Riley asked me to be her maid of honor, I cried tears of joy… and jealousy. Kenneth and I have been together since we were 16 years old. Although we celebrated our 10-year-anniversary in August, we were quickly approaching the two-year-anniversary of our engagement. Riley met her fiancé less than a year ago; yet, I am the one putting on a bridesmaid dress before a wedding dress. 

“Can you turn off the light?” Kenneth’s question snapped me back to reality. I looked at the piles of folded laundry on my side of the bed with my barren suitcase next to them.

“I’m still packing,” I said.

“Well, some of us don’t get to go to Nashville. Some of us have to go to work to help fund a trip we don’t even get to go on,” he responded.

Ouch. Yes, it’s true Kenneth is the breadwinner. His father’s business is lucrative and Kenneth does well for us. He has asked me to quit my job time and time again since he can support us financially. Everyone knows a teacher’s salary isn’t much to brag about, but I still feel pride in bringing home a paycheck every month. I love my job too much to quit. It’s already lonely in the evenings; I can’t imagine staying home all day by myself too. 

“You know I booked the cheapest flights I could find. Everyone else is flying in together and I am arriving a day early because tomorrow’s flights were more expensive than–”

“Turn off the light!” Kenneth snapped.

I collected my laundry piles and tossed them into my suitcase before shoving it to the floor. I guess I will have to finish packing in the morning after he leaves for work. I put my phone on the charger, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. Sassy jumped into bed to sleep by my feet, our nightly routine. She has always been my protector. I am going to miss her so much while I am gone, but I am looking forward to this miniature vacation. I haven’t had a trip to look forward to since my senior year of college. Kenneth is always too busy with work for us to have a vacation together. He doesn’t like to fly but he also gets car sick. If anywhere I wanted to go required more than two hours on the road, count him out. Plus it will be nice to see Riley again. I shut my eyes and tried my best to fall asleep. I am used to going to bed angry. Anger is like melatonin to me at this point. But the excitement and longing kept me awake. I pulled my headphones out of my nightstand and connected them to my phone. I scrolled through my Spotify playlists until I found one to soothe me to sleep. I selected “Boyfriends” by Harry Styles and the irony wasn’t lost on me as I drifted off…

Chapter Two

I collected the parking ticket from the machine as I drove into the airport’s economy lot. I found a spot closest to the entrance, but I knew I was still going to have to walk a billion miles. The economy lot is furthest from the airport but it’s the most affordable option. I wanted to save every dollar I had for this trip, so I figured it was a small sacrifice. I parked and started to collect my things from the trunk of my car. I grabbed my carryon suitcase and hung my purse on its handle before I started my trek to the airport. Anxiously double-checking every item on my pack-list in my head, I walked through the double doors of the airport. I made my way up to security and got in line behind what seemed to look like the entire population of my town. Luckily, the line moved fairly quickly as I approached the TSA agent’s desk. I placed my luggage on the conveyor belt, removed my sandals, and emptied my pockets. 

The large woman in the TSA uniform waved me through the body scanner. “Come on through, sweetie.”

I stood on the yellow marker and held my hands above my head. I knew I had nothing on me that would set off any alarm, but this moment always made me hold my breath. 

“You’re good, sweetie. Have a good day,” she smiled as I breathed a sigh of relief. I collected my things and scurried off to the side to put my shoes back on. When I grabbed my phone from the security tub, I noticed that I had two missed calls from Kenneth. 

I called him back as I tried to make my way through the crowd, pulling my luggage behind me. He answered on the first ring. 

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asked with a bit of anger in his tone. 

“I was going through security. I couldn’t be on my phone,” I explained.

“Well, I only have so long of a lunch break and I wanted to check in before you got on your flight. What time are you set to land again?” he asked.

“3:30 p.m. for the hundredth time,” I sighed.

“Ok, you need to text me as soon as you land,” he commanded.

“Sure thing,” I replied.

“Alright, well I’m gonna get back to work,” Kenneth said.

“Hey, don’t forget to give Sassy a treat after she goes outside because that’s what she’s used to. Oh, and don’t forget that she likes to have dinner at–”

“I’ve owned the damn dog just as long as you have. You don’t have to give me instructions,” Kenneth cut me off.

“Can you send me pictures of her throughout the day? I’m really going to miss her,” I pleaded.

“You’re going to miss the dog more than me,” Kenneth scoffed.

I thought about that comment for a moment as I approached my gate. I glanced over the TV screen to verify my boarding time. 

“Wow, you don’t even deny it,” Kenneth said.

“I’m sorry. I got distracted by my gate. It’s really busy here. I will text you when I land. Please send me pictures of Sassy. I will keep you posted. I love you,” I nearly lied into the phone.

“Love you too,” he said halfheartedly before ending the call. 

While pulling my belongings behind me, I found a spot to sit down in the waiting area of my gate. The airport seemed to be a madhouse, but it looked like my flight wouldn’t be so crowded after all. There were more empty seats than I expected. I checked the “Nashville Babes” group text on my phone. I’ve had the notifications silenced for weeks because I can’t stand getting notified every 10 minutes. I asked Riley to text me separately if there was anything I really needed to know. I hate that I appear to be an unsupportive maid of honor, but seeing my phone light up constantly throughout the day–and night–has been a nightmare for my anxiety. Riley knows and understands that I get overwhelmed easily. She took charge of planning her own bachelorette weekend because she knew I would get stressed out. I still feel guilty about it, but she assured me that she truly wanted to plan it. I wasn’t going to argue. She’s always been the most supportive and constant person in my life. I hate that I am secretly jealous of her when I should be reciprocating the support. 

“Now boarding Group A!” the airline attendant announced over the gate’s speaker. I checked my boarding pass: Group C. Once again, I took the most affordable option on the cheapest flight I could find. Being last to board on Southwest meant that I am doomed to a middle seat between two strangers. I just hope that whomever I get stuck between put on deodorant today. When I say I’m looking forward to a vacation, I mean I am looking forward to a break from 15-year-olds’ body odor. One of the many drawbacks of being a teacher. 

“Excuse me,” a man in a white sweater and khaki pants said as he tried to shuffle by me. I thought he looked funny wearing both a baseball hat and sunglasses indoors. That doesn’t look suspicious in an airport. I moved my things from his path and he headed to board the plane. So he’s in Group A… This guy has money. Well, maybe not. He is flying Southwest after all. I’m sure I could have booked Group A tickets, but I didn’t want to ask Kenneth for any more money than I already needed. This trip was fully funded by me and I was proud of that. Well, until Riley picked the most expensive Airbnb in Nashville. I almost fainted when I received her Venmo request. I was grateful she didn’t charge me extra for staying one night by myself since I had an earlier flight. I swallowed my pride and asked Kenneth if I could have an extra $400 to add to my savings to help with my portion of the bill. He gave me the money with no issues, but he has enjoyed holding it above my head every chance he’s had.

Once I heard the announcement for Group C, I grabbed my things and headed to stand in line to board. I glanced at the Nashville Babes group text: 80 missed notifications. I cleared it from my phone as I opened the Southwest app to show my boarding pass. Once I was scanned in, I headed through the hallway to board the plane. I stepped on the aircraft and gazed over the heads of strangers who were all avoiding eye contact. I knew they were all pleading to themselves that I wouldn’t take their middle seat. The flight wasn’t too packed, but there were no empty window or aisle seats left. Wonderful. I scanned the rows once more looking for any open overhead space when I noticed someone’s eyes locked on me. Eyes that I hadn’t seen before; yet, a face that looked all too familiar. The Group A stranger had removed his sunglasses and was staring at me. I started to move down the aisle when he whispered to the guy in the row with him. Whoever he was, he looked angry receiving whatever news he just got. No chance I want to sit between a bickering couple. I located a row nearby filled with two women who looked rather normal. I went to lift my luggage to put in the overhead space when the Group A stranger grabbed my suitcase.

“Allow me,” he said with a smile that displayed the tiniest of gaps between his unusually white teeth. But rather than placing the suitcase in the compartment I had decided on, he placed it in the compartment above his row. 

“Would you prefer the window seat or the aisle seat?” he asked.

“What happened to the man who was sitting with you?” I answered his question with a question.

“I asked him to sit elsewhere. I figured you’d prefer a better spot,” he smiled that smile again.

Bewildered, I responded: “I’ll take the aisle.” No way would I be confined to the window seat with this strange man trapping me in. I needed an escape route in case he was a pervert or something. 

“Perfect. I love to watch the clouds anyways,” he said as he shuffled into the row. I followed suit but sat to keep an empty seat between us. 

“Why didn’t your friend just sit in the middle if you wanted to give me a good seat?” I asked confusingly.

“That’s my–um–assistant. He can stand to sit elsewhere for the short flight since I see him all of the time. I’d prefer to sit next to someone more pleasant anyways,” he joked. 

God he’s adorable. A little too forward but adorable nonetheless.

“Well, I appreciate you doing that for me. I figured I was going to have to sit between two strangers, but an aisle seat is definitely a welcomed surprise,” I said.

I opened my phone to inform the Nashville Babes that I had boarded and would be landing in roughly an hour and a half. I completely ignored the hundreds of messages that came before mine. I was about to put my phone on airplane mode when I received a private text from Riley.

Riley: “You ok?”

Me: “Yes, of course. I’m so excited to see you! Get ready to lose oxygen from my hug when I see you tomorrow.” 

Riley: “Just checking. Haven’t heard from you in a couple days. Let me know when you land and when you make it to the Airbnb. Safe travels, love.” 

I sighed as I read her message over and over. I smiled and held the message down to “love” it before searching through my purse to retrieve my headphones. 

“Already getting the music out and we haven’t even heard the safety instructions yet. I think you need to pay attention,” I heard the adorable stranger say.

“There isn’t much I can do if there were an emergency. Knowing that I need to breathe oxygen through a mask that will drop in front of my face is all I need to know,” I said with a laugh.

“Just make sure to put your own mask on before you help me with mine,” he said.

“Who says I would help you?” I turned to him and asked.

“I helped you with your luggage. I helped you get an aisle seat. The least you can do is help me breathe,” he said with a smile that displayed his perfect teeth again.

I laughed and replied, “Ok, well I am not banking on there being an emergency, so no need to worry.”  

“Does anyone ever bank on an emergency?” he asked. Smart ass.

I rolled my eyes and placed my headphones in my ears. I opened my Spotify app to find the playlist I downloaded to prepare for the flight.

“Who are you listening to?” the stranger asked. I am beginning to wish I had sat between the two women after all. Not having to play 20 questions with this guy would have been worth sacrificing the extra space I had in this aisle seat.

“Nobody yet as I literally just opened the app,” I responded.

“Can I give you a song suggestion?” he asked.

“Um… I guess?” I replied questioningly.

“May I?” he asked as he reached for my phone.

“I’m not giving a stranger my phone,” I said with a shocked expression to my tone. The nerve of this guy.

“What am I going to do? Run off with it? You’ve got me trapped in,” he smiled showing that cute, tiny gap again. 

“No thanks,” I said as I went to start my music. 

Suddenly, he unbuckled his seat belt and stood up from his seat. I stared at him wide-eyed as a flight attendant stopped by our row to say, “Sir, please stay seated and buckle your seat belt.” 

He waved to the irritated attendant and displayed a soft smile as he sat in the middle seat beside me. Immediately I was hit with his fresh cologne scent that made me crave more as he started to buckle the seat belt. You have got to be kidding me.

“What are you doing?” I somehow yelled and whispered simultaneously.

“Please let me pick a song for you to listen to. Then I will leave you alone. I promise,” he said with a slight pout to his lips. God, his lips. How did I not notice those yet?

“Give me your phone in exchange,” I said with an air of confidence in my voice.

“Ah, so she’s smart and she’s beautiful,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants. I tried to hide the blush that I could feel warming my cheeks. I couldn’t remember the last time I received a compliment.

“I’m not unlocking it, but I will let you hold it for ransom,” he said as he held his phone out to me. I took it from his hands as his fingers brushed against mine. I felt an immediate rush of energy run through me as our hands briefly touched. What was that? I handed him my phone and watched as he typed the words “Greta Van Fleet” into the search bar in my Spotify app. He made a face that almost seemed disappointed, and then clicked  to download the band’s complete playlist. He attempted to hand my phone back to me, and I stared at him confusingly as I reached for it. I was too busy watching him with my phone; I never even glanced at his lockscreen. Before I gave him back his phone, I tapped the screen to see what his background was. On display was a photo of a crowd of lights, but the photographer must have been standing on the stage when they took it. There had to be thousands of phone flashlights in this one photo. It reminded me of tiny stars in the midnight sky. 

“I took that picture, ya know?” he said with a proud smile.

“Are you a concert photographer?” I asked. 

He let out a wild laugh and then glanced down at my phone’s screen, “It’s almost finished downloading.”

“I thought you said a song suggestion. A. One. Singular. Not a whole playlist,” I said.

“I mean… I wanted to give you options,” he said.

Waving his phone to him I asked, “So, is this crowd picture from this band’s concert?”

“Yes,” he said, like there was more he was wanting me to ask. I decided to have the upperhand and gave him his phone back without asking another question. I watched my screen as the playlist was nearly completely downloaded. 

“I’m Josh,” he said like he was annoyed that I hadn’t asked for his name yet.

“Hi, Josh,” I replied disinterestedly. 

“And you are…?” he asked.

“I’m about to listen to this playlist,” I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant…” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” I said as I put my headphones in. “You can move back to the window now.”

“We are about to take off. If I stand up, I’ll cause a scene and then we’ll be delayed. Then I’ll probably become a flight risk and be forcibly removed off of the plane. Everyone would be recording the fiasco and posting it online. Let’s just avoid all of that and I’ll stay seated here,” he said with a smirk.

“You have quite the imagination…” I said hiding my smile.

“I’m sacrificing a coveted window seat for you. I hope you know that,” he replied.

“I never asked you to change seats,” I said.

“No, but you didn’t object either,” he responded with a smug expression on his face.

Once the playlist completed its download, I switched my phone to airplane mode. I sighed in frustration and scrolled through the playlist to view the songs. Whoever this band is, they have quite a discography. I wanted to ask him which song I should start with but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I scrolled until the title “Trip the Light Fantastic” caught my eye. Intrigued, I selected the song and tilted my head back to listen to it. Before I shut my eyes, I noticed Josh was staring at my phone to see which song I chose first. I closed my eyes and relaxed as the lyrics danced through my ears. I have never heard anything like this before. I was so entranced in the music that I didn't even realize we were now speeding down the runway about to take off. The music, plus the feeling of lifting off the ground, was nearly overwhelming in the best way possible. I felt like I had stepped into the song itself. When the song ended, I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as possible. 

“What did you think?” I heard Josh ask as I removed my headphones.

“Wow,” is all I could formulate. My thoughts ran wild and I wanted to describe the feeling I just had, but I couldn’t put it into words. 

“What did you think about the guy’s voice?” he asked.

“The dude is talented as hell. I just wish I could understand everything he sang,” I said.

There was that wild laugh of his again. “Yeah, I think the band receives that criticism a lot,” he said with a shrug. I truly wanted to listen to another song, but I didn’t want him to know I was so interested in this band. I guess one could call me stubborn. 

“While I love to share music with new people, I’d love to talk some more if that’s alright with you,” he said sheepishly.

“I feel like you would talk to me even if it weren’t alright with me,” I said sarcastically.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant,” he repeated. I playfully pinched his arm. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed as he rubbed his arm.

“I let it slide the first time. I wasn’t going to let you get away with it again,” I said.

“Now that I’ve been physically assaulted… Are you going to Nashville for business or pleasure?” he asked.

“I’m attending a bachelorette party,” I said.

“For you or someone else?” he asked, looking down at the dainty ring on my finger. The same ring that has been without a wedding band companion for nearly two years. The same ring I wanted to leave inside the jewelry box before I left my house this morning.

“It’s for my best friend Riley,” I said with a sadness that I couldn’t hide like I normally do.

As if Josh sensed the change in my mood, he completely turned his body to face mine. I could tell that he positioned his head to get me to look at him. I locked eyes with him and it was like I could actually see the wheels in his head turning. 

“How long will you be in Nashville?” he asked.

“For four nights. I had to take two days off from work, but I’m looking forward to it,” I said with a forced smile.

“You don’t sound like someone who is excited to attend a bachelorette party,” he said.

“It’s just a lot, but I am excited for Riley,” I said trying to convince the both of us that I really was excited.

“What do you do for work?” he asked while continuing to hold eye contact. As I stared into his dark brown eyes, I studied the long lashes that I would kill to have. 

“I teach 9th grade English,” I responded.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant, and a world changer. A difference maker. One who shapes the minds of our youth. You’re a hero to our doomed society,” he said. I felt my cheeks redden as I processed the way he just described my job. I don’t normally feel appreciated at work, not even at home. It felt good to have someone remind me of my purpose. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m just a glorified babysitter,” I said with a nervous laugh.

“You should never feel that way. I think you have one of the most important jobs in the world. I’m just a concert photographer,” he said with a tone that I couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” I said, finally giving into a real smile. I watched his eyes fall to my mouth and I could feel a million butterflies in my stomach. Why does he have such an effect on me? I shook the thoughts from my head as I opened the Southwest app to see how much longer our flight had. A little over one hour to go with a stranger who makes me feel better about myself than anyone has in years. Maybe I should take a nap.

“What’s on the agenda for your bachelorette weekend? Bars and strippers?” he asked with a smile.

“Definitely the strippers. That’s a necessity,” I responded with a smirk.

“Well, when I’m not taking pictures at concerts, I happen to moonlight as an exotic dancer,” he said returning the smirk I gave.

“I’m sure you make more money taking pictures,” I said biting my lip.

“First you physically assaulted me and now you’ve verbally assaulted me,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” I said, covering my face from the embarrassment of inadvertently insulting him.

“No, you’re right. The crowd usually pays me to keep my clothes on,” he said tilting his head down in shame. Unlikely.

“What’s your stripper name?” I asked. Before he could answer, the plane suddenly dropped in altitude. I heard screams from the rows behind us. I gasped and grabbed his hand before shutting my eyes. The turbulence was over quickly as everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the same time. I slowly opened my eyes to realize everything was ok. I didn’t realize I was still holding Josh’s hand until he asked, “Are you ok?”

“Yes, sorry about that,” I said as I quickly jerked my hand back to my lap.

“No need to apologize for the hand-holding. It was nice while it lasted,” he said with a wink.

“Who was the first person to cross your mind when you felt the plane drop?” I asked him in a serious tone.

Without hesitation, he responded, “My mom.”

“Tell me about her,” I said.

“She’s the most important person on the planet,” he said looking at his hands. “She has given up so much for me and I hope I make her proud.”

“I’m sure you do,” I said while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not sure if my nerves were shot from the temporary panic or if his sentiment was getting to me. 

“Who did you think of?” he asked.

“Honestly… I thought of myself,” I admitted with shame.

“Really? Elaborate on that,” he said as I could tell he was giving me his full attention.

“I’m sure I sound narcissistic, but I thought I was about to die without having lived, and then I’d leave a legacy of nothing behind,” I said with a sigh.

“I know I don’t know you. Shit, I don’t even know your name. But, I can tell that your death would most definitely leave an impact on people,” he said.

“Nothing like discussing death with a total stranger,” I said with a light laugh.

“Death doesn’t scare me. I know it’s not the end. I just enjoy my life and the love I can give to the world while I’m here in my physical form. The love I provide won’t leave when I fade away,” he said. I stared at him like I just heard one of the most philosophical phrases come from another person’s mouth in years. He’s insightful and adorable.

“I got that from a song, by the way. It’s on the playlist I downloaded to your phone. Don’t be too impressed,” he said with a laugh.

“Ah, plagiarism,” I said.

“That’s actually my stripper name,” he said with a smirk. 

“Now I definitely know you aren’t making any money,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“How about I give you a glimpse of my routine and you tell me what I can do to improve my shtick to make more money?” he asked.

Stunned by his foreward remark, I immediately felt guilt running through my veins. This is the most flirting I’ve had since high school. I’m not used to this sort of attention. I looked down at my hands in my lap. 

“I’m sorry if that was too much. I–” Josh began to say.

“No, no it’s ok. I was just worried I wouldn’t have enough money in my purse to get you to keep your clothes on once you started,” I said stifling a giggle. 

“Alright just kick a man while he’s down,” he said as he clutched his hands over his heart. He threw his head back acting like he was wounded and I eyed his neck. His adam’s apple protruded, making me feel weak. 

“I wonder if there is a doctor on board to help you,” I said sarcastically looking around the plane.

Suddenly he rose out of his seat and shouted, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

Completely stunned, I stared at him with wide eyes. I cannot believe he just did that. I watched a flight attendant quickly make his way over to our row. Oh my God.

“Sir, are you having a medical emergency?” the flight attendant asked him. Next to the attendant stood Josh’s assistant, the angry man who changed his seat earlier. 

“No, no, I am ok now. Sorry for the alarm,” he said, trying not to laugh. His assistant rolled his eyes and quickly returned back to his middle seat. I’m sure he is used to Josh’s antics by now. The flight attendant gave a displeased look to both of us before walking away. I felt like I had just received punishment for a crime I didn’t do. Guilty by association. 

“That was so not funny!” I exclaimed with a sigh.

“I can’t help myself sometimes,” he said with a smile. This dude is nuts.

“You’re a lunatic,” I said, getting my headphones back out.

“No, wait. I am sorry,” he said. “I’ll move back over to the window seat and leave you alone,” he said with a sense of shame in his voice. I put my headphones in as I watched him change seats then position his body to where he was looking out the window. I was no longer in his line of vision. I opened my Spotify app and his Greta Van Fleet playlist was there. I hesitated. I wanted to listen to another song but I also wanted to block this guy from my mind and listen to my own music. Against my better judgment, I selected “Light My Love” from the playlist. I closed my eyes and listened to one of the most beautiful songs I had ever heard.

Chapter Three

I was six songs deep into this playlist when I felt someone tap on my arm. I reluctantly opened my eyes for I was enjoying being in a complete and utter trance of this band. Josh looked sheepish as I removed my headphones. 

“Do you care to let me out to use the bathroom? I really need to stretch my legs,” he said. Without responding, I shifted my body and moved my legs into the aisle to give him a clear walkway. He shuffled past me and I got a whiff of his cologne again. He smells so damn good. Maybe I’m being irrational for giving him the silent treatment. I’m 26-years-old but I’m acting like I’m 12. I decided to act more civil once he returned to our row. I don’t want to look too anxious, but I couldn’t help but watch the bathroom door awaiting his return. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to do something irrational. I can be crazy too. I took my headphones off and left them in the seat as I shoved my phone in my jeans pocket. I stood up and started to make my way to the bathroom to check on him. As I got closer to the door, it opened and he exited. I wanted to retreat back to my seat from pure embarrassment, but there was nowhere to turn. He looked up at me and scrunched his eyebrows together like he was confused. As he should be. I decided to try to play it off that I needed to use the restroom rather than run back to my seat like I desperately wanted to. As he moved past me, his body brushed against mine and I felt every nerve from my toes to my scalp tingle. I felt like I could no longer breathe. I made my way into the tiny bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. “Get it together,” I said aloud to my reflection. I took a few deep breaths and made my way back to my seat. I made the mistake of looking at him because his deep brown eyes were once again locked on mine. A shiver immediately ran through me. I sat back down in my aisle seat and tried to think of something to ease the awkward tension.

“What has been your favorite song off the playlist?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“That’s difficult to say. I have genuinely loved all of the ones I’ve listened to so far,” I said with a smile. His cheeks almost looked like they were a new shade of pink. Was he blushing? I quickly added, “Thank you for sharing this band with me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he said back with a smile. I bit my lip as I felt like the awkward tension was over. However, a new tension was forming. 

I checked the Southwest app and realized we were set to land very soon. I put my headphones back in my purse as a sign that I was ready to talk to him. He picked up on my cue because he quickly switched seats again. His cologne hit me and if I hadn’t been sitting, I may have collapsed. He buckled his seat belt just before the overhead light signaled us to do so. 

“What’s the first thing you and your friends are doing tonight?” he asked.

“Actually, I am flying in a day earlier than everyone, so I have the Airbnb alone until everyone flies in tomorrow,” I said. I suddenly realized that I shouldn’t have told a stranger that I was going to be staying alone in an unfamiliar city, but the words had already left my lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Really?” he said as he sat up straight in his seat. I nodded but then looked away. I can’t believe I just overshared this information with him.

“If you’d like some company…” he said quietly. I quickly turned my head back to him. I was dreading another night by myself, especially without Sassy. Riley said I could FaceTime her tonight, but I didn’t want to bother her while she finished packing and getting her stuff together. I was going to use the time to decorate the place before her arrival anyways. 

I stammered, “Josh, I–” 

“How about dinner? I can take you to some of my favorite places in town. What do you like to eat?” he asked with a big smile. The idea of not being alone was tempting and as frustrating as he had been at times, I really did enjoy his company. 

Before I could give him an answer, I felt our plane touch the ground as we braced for a complete stop. This was always my least favorite part about flying. 

“I really need to decorate the Airbnb and unpack. I’d like to get settled in rather than go out. Plus, I don’t have a vehicle,” I finally responded as the sounds of seat belts unbuckled around us.

“If it’s not too forward, I could always come over and cook for you. I can bring some groceries and wine, or whatever else you’d like to drink. I can even help you decorate. You can’t spend your first night in Nashville alone,” he said. 

I mulled over his offer as people around us began to stand up and form a line in the center aisle as they collected their luggage from the overhead compartments. Josh appeared not to be in any hurry to leave, nor was I. 

“Fine. But I want to text your full name, picture, vehicle description, and phone number to Riley in case I go missing,” I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

He laughed nervously and then said, “Give me your phone.” I put in my passcode and handed it to him. He stared at my background, a picture of Sassy and me, before opening the contacts app. “I’m giving you my number so you can text me your address when you’re ready for me to come over to cook you dinner,” he said as he was typing. I watched the plane empty row by row until it felt like we were the last two remaining on board. I noticed his assistant standing in the aisle waiting on Josh. “I think you’re going to get an earful when you get off the plane,” I said, eyeing the angry-looking man. 

“I usually do,” he said with a smile as he passed my phone back to me. I glanced down at the contact name that read Plagiarism with the winky face emoji. I covered my mouth as I laughed loudly. 

“Ahem,” we both heard his assistant clear his throat as he began tapping his foot impatiently.

“Ok, I think it’s time to go,” I said as I grabbed my purse and stepped into the aisle to let him out. While Josh exited his seat, he stood so close that I could smell his delicious scent again. I watched him open the compartment and get our luggage out. He lifted the handle of my suitcase and handed it to me. I smiled at his kindness, avoiding eye contact, because I had about all that I could stand.

We made our way down the center aisle following his assistant off of the plane. Before he stepped inside the airport, I watched as he put his sunglasses back on. Weird. 

“I’ll be anxiously waiting for your text,” he said to me as he pulled his hat down a little further over his face. Before he walked away, he said, “I’ll send you all of the info you need for Riley when I hear from you,” with a wink.

I made my way down to ground transportation and requested an Uber to take me to the Airbnb. I sent Kenneth a text to let him know that I had landed, but I texted Riley that I was going to call her ASAP. I needed her advice now more than ever. I knew I was treading in dangerous waters by allowing that adorable, frustrating, sexy, funny, crazy stranger to come over, but something made me want to be around him. I may be in too deep, but I’ve always been a strong swimmer.

[atranswomansdiary]

Day 1

It happened in the worst possible moment...

Today's June 5th, 2020. It’s a Friday and I once again had trouble getting out to bed to go to work.

I’ve suspected for a while that I’m very depressed, for the umpteenth time. I had a painful breakup almost a year ago and, after that, I rebounced rather quickly because of many reasons, one of the most important being that I started a new job, perhaps for the first time in my life, under my conditions. In short: (sort of) a full salary plus benefits in exchange for working only 4 hours a day, from Monday to Friday. 20 hours a week. 80 hours a month.

In spite of this great situation (unique, in many senses) I've been having issues waking up and getting to work on time. Although I had the opportunity to take a company transfer and avoid any commute hassles (fee included), I almost never got there in time. And even though the company offices were only half an hour or so away, even on public transportation, I was still getting there late almost everyday—sometimes by a lot. I was also failing to show up to work a couple of days a month.

I was deadly afraid of losing this incredibly comfortable job in the first few months. If I did, I probably wouldn’t have enough money to make rent with my freelance stuff, so I’d have to return to live with my parents, in a house that literally has no space for me anymore.

I asked A.P. (he/him) to help me. After some back and forth, he prescibed me an “introductory” antidepressant and some mild sleeping pills, but it has been 9 months or so since then and my mood has improved a little (it’s true), but I’m still struggling with going to the office five days a week, let alone getting there on time.

Even more so once the pandemic broke out.

It’s been a couple of months now since the world basically went to shit and, although I’ve pushed and struggled and pleaded to be allowed to work from home—doing the same job I do at the office, but without having to struggle to get out of my apartment every single fucking day—my boss has been adamant that I still need to go at least some days to the office every week. According to him, it’s for my own good, to “protect my reputation in the eyes of my coworkers”. Picture my eyes rolling so hard that I can actually see my brain.

So: today’s Friday. As everybody else in the world, I didn’t feel any desire to go to the office, even less so given the current situation. I once again cursed my boss and took enough time to finally get up from bed that I left the small apartment I rent already late.

As with any time I go to the office (the company transfer is no longer an option, so I have to commute), Cheap Trick’s hit Ghost Town sounds in my head; the city looks deserted and abandoned. The few who are forced to leave their homes, as I am, move and act like specters, shadows of once-people—as do I, to be honest. We move slowly and fearfully through the streets, unwillingly risking our lives because, well, that’s the fucked up world we live in.

Or at least that’s how I feel.

I’d love to think that I’m just like everybody. Or, in reality, that everybody else feels just like I do.

I went out, almost running, and I already had a major decision to make: subway or bus. The bus is slow and unreliable, but there’s definitely less people in it and, what’s best, I get to sit down and read or just listen to music through the whole commute, mostly undisturbed. The subway, on the other hand, is fast and runs on a tight schedule but is a) filled with people and b) it gets me close to the office, but not exactly there. I have to walk around 15 minutes from the subway station to the office proper, through alleways and streets that are mostly deserted at this early hour and, what’s worse, have a reputation of being dangerous at any time of day.

Taking everything into consideration—and more on a whim than anything else, really—I chose the subway.

The journey was short and uneventful. I got out of the train station and I don’t remember what music was playing on my ears, but I do remember being tired and bored. Then, a remnant image of last night’s dream hit me, the one that I privately blame for being late this morning.

I don’t usually remember my dreams. When they’re emotionally charged I sometimes wake up with what I call “emotional waste”, the afterimage of the intense feelings that I experienced onirically but, apart from that, I just don’t remember many concrete details about them. Mostly sensations and blurry images, that’s all.

Last night I once again dreamed that I was a woman.

It was a throwback to the time when I was still in a relationship with perhaps the greatest partner I’ve ever had: L.M. (she/her). In the dream we were living together in the tiny apartment that was our love nest, laughing and talking about something I can’t recall. We were just standing there, having a nice conversation and loving each other deeply, as we did. But, in this dream, I was a woman.

As far as I’m aware, L.M. never had any experience with or interest in any women in their life. That’s kind of a new thing for me, since most of my previous (or posterior) partners had an “attraction for women’s phase” in their lives (their words, not mine) or were decidedly bisexual. So this dream is all kinds of impossible and, still, the joy of being a woman comes back with such strength—even just being the recollection of a half-forgotten oniric experience—that I openly smile for the first time in the day.

I change the music to an energetic track and start walking with something resembling the happiness or joy of doing so with a purpose. My heart aches a little bit: if only! I have this weird feeling—I’ve been conscious of it for a while now—that I would’ve been much happier if I had been born a woman. That maybe I wouldn’t be such a failure at 34 if, when my parents made me, my dad’s contribution to the whole affair had been an “X” instead of a “Y”. But, alas! It didn’t.

It’s too late for me.

Plus, I’ve never had any homosexual experiences or even any hint of erotic attraction towards men. Men are controversial figures in my life; I have few male friends and most of them are cis heterosexuals. I consider myself one as well. Cis and heterosexual.

I follow a number of trans women YouTubers, it’s true, and I consider myself an ally of the feminist cause (4th wave and intersectional, thank you very much!). I’ve read Beauvoir, Cisneros, and Butler. Woolf, Plath, Pizarnik, and Storni are among my favorite writers. Le Guin and Rice are my (seelie and unseelie) queens.

I’ve never felt as much of a “man”, except during that weird period in my life a couple of years ago when I tried to become a “manly man” after reading too many of Howard’s Conan stories one after the other while being extremely lonely and suicidal (as one does, of course). I’ve actually thought about tattooing a quote from those stories in my body. The quote reads,

"I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content."

My only problem is with the “slay” part. I don’t think I could ever kill any human being. I have a hard time eating meat and I try to save spiders and other abhorred creatures whenever I can. I love Death—especially Sandman's version of her—but I don’t think I could deal in such violence.

It doesn’t really matter. It’s already too late.

I was crossing one of the streets and then an idea flashed through my mind. It’s OK: it is late. No one’s arguing that. I’ll never do anything about it. But, but… Is there any problem if I imagined a different reality? If I, excuse the mundane use of the word, fantasized with a world in which I was born a woman? No one would ever know about it. It’d be my little secret.

And then, it happened.

I was walking down these dangerous and deserted streets, the same I’ve traveled many times during the past year, but this time, it was different. I was immensely, indescribably, ridiculously happy. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt each step, I breathed in the chill morning air, and I was content. Yes, like the Conan quote above. I felt like myself, if only for those infinitely long in the memory—but painfully brief in reality—ten to fifteen minutes. During that time, I was me. I was a woman.

I was complete.

I got to work and reality crushed me. My name—the one I was given at birth—slapped me in the face as a friendly guard at the company’s door gave me a warm welcome.

The sensation faded away during the morning. Little by little, it disappeared completely… Or so I thought. It was fantasy and imagination, that’s all. I consider myself to be pretty good at those. But it was just that: a fancy, a whim, as concrete and real and solid as a fragment of a dream can be. Maybe one day I’ll remember what it was to be truly happy, thanks to no reason or excuse greater than just imagining what it would be like to be born in a body with a different sex and a whole lot of different expectations and experiences than my own.

But that is in a future I can’t even imagine and this was today.

Until then, with love,

ZZ

[ranaissingle]

Coffee or Tea pt.2

Part 1

part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Coffee Shop AU where the reader goes to the same coffee shop often to read books, study, or just drink tea and stare at the walls lol. I don't know the exact layout of LA so let's just assume that UCLA is close to this coffee shop which is also close to where all the celebrities are IDK lol I live in Georgia 💀.

Rating: M (T as of now but it will change later)

Pairings: Austin Butler x Reader, Austin Butler x race-neutral reader

Word Count: 892 Warnings: Age gap and the reader is definitely fem presenting but I'm doing my best to leave out any other definite features.

Authors Note: I am going to try to get these chapters pumped out as fast as possible because school is starting up for me again tomorrow so I won't have a lot of time to write ;(. I can already feel the tears coming lol. Also, the reader is inexperienced with flirting and sexual stuff because she is also very shy and has ✦trauma✦. Enjoy!

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~5 months ago~

After finishing the movie, y/n was speechless, to say the least. The movie was nothing less than perfect. Her hands had been clasped together for a minimum of 15 minutes as the movie had come to an end. Y/N had yet another thing to obsess over during her summer break, lovely. Now that this was checked off her list y/n took out her book, opened to her page, and proceeded to get lost in it for the next 3 hours. Unbeknownst to her, Austin had not taken his eyes off her for more than 8 seconds at any given time.

Austin needed to find a way to talk to her. She was absolutely ethereal. Her hair framed her face perfectly and it took all of Austin's self-control to not reach out and touch it. As much as he wanted to do more, he was content to watch her as she finished the last of the movie and pulled out a book to read afterward. Oh, what Austin would give to have the confidence to talk to her. The only thing that a childhood spent in front of a camera had taught him was that he had much to be insecure about.

Y/n stayed unaware of Austin's turmoil for many more months to come but she was always watching the actor in the corner of her gaze. Seeing him never got old. His golden waves seemed to reflect the sunlight in the best way and his sharp blue eyes made her knees buckle and her chest warm. Well, this was new.

Although both parties desperately wanted to speak to the other, they remained ignorant of the other's desires.

~ Present~

Austin had had enough. Today was the day. Today he was going to speak to the soft girl with pretty eyes and supple cheeks. He would speak to her come hell or high water because he had spent the last 5 months formulating an introductory line and he was getting tired of only being able to dream of what her voice sounded like.

She was going to do it. Y/N was going to talk to Austin Butler today. Y/N had been telling herself this every time she came to the cafe for the last 2 months and she had yet to follow through. What could she say, he was intimidating. Y/N resolved to stop lying to herself and took a seat in her usual spot. She could just admire him as she always did and she was content with just that.

Austin walked into the cafe with a mission. He eyed the girl in the corner of the cafe where she always sat. Crap. He was nervous again. Coffee would calm him down and then he could hopefully muster up the courage he had been lacking for the last 5 months. After receiving his drink, Austin took action.

Y/N had not yet looked up from her book so she had not seen Austin walk in and order his drink. This however worked in Austins' favor. Because he walked up next to her and spoke when she looked up.

Y/N felt the shadow of a figure block out the light fixture over her. She looked up to see who it wa-.

Oh

No

It was Austin. He was standing right next to her. So close that she could move her hand a couple inches and be able to tou-.

" Hey, do you mind if I sit here? These chairs look like the comfiest in the whole store and I need a place to rest my legs." An easy smile worked its way onto his face as he finished his opening line. Success.

" Of course! Take a seat. I always sit here because the seats are so comfy too."

Austin could not have accurately imagined her voice if he tried. It was soft and airy just like her. He wanted to hear it again in fact he needed to hear it again. He needed to keep talking to her.

"Are you from around here? I see you in this coffee shop often so I was curious." Y/N was equally smitten with Austin's voice as he was hers. His was smooth and oh so deep. When he spoke y/n swore she could feel her stomach fill up with butterflies and another feeling she couldn't yet place her finger on.

" Yeah I go to UCLA and I live in the palms to be close to school. I didn't catch your name by the way?" The secret smile she gave Austin after she spoke almost took him off his feet. Her smile was everything he could wish for.

" My name's Austin. I also live around here because of work. What's your name?" His voice fell an octave as he eyed y/n up and down. She was drowning in a thick, wool sweater with a black skirt on and black tights. Her platform docs looked too big for her feet and made her ankles and calf seem all the more fragile. Austin eyed the piercings in her ears as well as the stacked gold necklaces she wore with the tightest one almost constricting her neck. Everything about her was captivating in a way that Austin was not accustomed to.

" My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you Austin." Y/N smiled at him as if he had just pulled the moon out of his pocket.

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Let me know if you prefer stories to be written in 1st person or 3rd person. I'm having trouble deciding which one I like more.

Thank you for reading!! Don't forget to like and follow!! Until next time girlies!

[beansnsoup]

Can you make Mario and Luigi her younger sister lost in mall, like time to go shopping at the mall with Mario and Luigi , And after her younger sister lost in mall, Mario Luigi go to find her with feeling worries

And after Mario and Luigi found her, they comfort and say sorry about careless

Thanks for submitting!

☆

"You worried us half to death!"

Summary: While shopping for a birthday gift for your mom with your older brothers you find yourself wandering off to look at something that interests you more, causing them to worry.

Relationship: Platonic, family

Characters: Mario, Luigi

Warnings: Fluff, fem reader

*Reader is in a toddler age range

"Where could she have gone?" Luigi asked Mario in a worried tone, starting to get more and more frightened of all the possible things that have happened to their younger sister or what has already happened.

"She's fine, she couldn't have gone too far." Mario replies, trying to reassure his brother, and if he was being honest, Luigis worriedness was making him even more worried than he should be, but he just kept a calm composure for his brother so they could both remain at ease.

About 15 minutes ago the three of you walked into one of the big department stores that was separated from the small chains and used as an entryway for most shoppers.

It wasn't until the brothers were looking at perfume di they realize how eerily quiet it had gotten, you had been off the walls hyper all day had nonstop been asking questions, picking stuff up off of the shelves, and begging for various items.

Luigi started off the panic, retracing steps hoping your dress had just got caught on something and you were stuck and left behind for them to later find, but yet that was not the case.

At this point they were scanning each and every section of the store, even looking at the ceiling in case you were bitten by a radioactive spider at some point.

Neither of them wanted to call your parents or ask an employee for help, that would make them feel way more helpless than before, they knew this was something they'd never be able to live down.

The boys were reaching their final lap around the store, hoping for some miracle to appear and you be back in their arms again.

When they reached the entrance door again Luigi started overthinking, "What if someone took her? What if we never see her again? I would never be able to live with myself."

"Luigi, it's going to be okay; I promise you she is fine." While Mario was thinking back to everywhere they looked an explaining to Luigi some strategies they could put together to make this process less worrisome the taller brother trailed off.

His eyes going in every direction but his brother, looking at the toddler clothes section that was lined with toys and clothes, once he was about to look back at his brother, he caught a glimpse of those familiar pigtails in the pink satin bows, which he helped put in her hair this morning.

Luigi began speedwalking away from Mario, which turned into running, "Luigi? Where are you going?" Mario yelled after him, but a loud enough yell for customers to be disturbed and have them kicked out.

The both of them almost tripped multiple times trying to make their way over to what they assumed was you,

And thankfully it was.

Luigi collapsed onto his knees to wrap you up in his arms, making sure not to take another moment for granted, Mario huffed out behind him, thanking his brother this once for not paying attention to his rants.

Luigi finally let you go, "Where did you go? You worried us half to death!"

"There was a lady with a nice long dress with pretty hair walking by us, I thought she was a princess, and she could make me one, so i followed her. And I found this toy." You ended off, holding up a doll to show to your brother.

Mario and Luigi both sighed, "If Mulan, Tiana, or Rapunzel were to walk into that door right now you would tell us you want to see them to make you a princess, please don't run off without us knowing, we want to be there to see you become a princess, ever think of that?"

You shook your head, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, just don't do it again." Mario warned, "Now let's finally go fine a gift for Ma."

Last post for a while!

[maddy-ferguson]

honestly byler side of the fandom (specifically mike fans most of the time) made me realize it can be really racist without intention especially regarding how they ignore lucas's character often times in favor of propping mike or mike's relationship with other characters. idk i don't even think the ga does this. if you asked them what is the relation btwn mike and max will be in the next season they'd say mike is gonna support lucas and el emotionally, like as a friend. no one with their mind would think mike's gonna interact with max or will be able to find or save her like wtf.

i know like lucas doesn't get that much in canon you're gonna take what little he has from him and make it about mike instead? lmao. i remember last summer someone on sttwt said they couldn't love lucas and max's relationship because it felt one-sided and everyone was like how dare you say this worry about byler instead etc etc but they were literally RIGHT, billy abuses max and dies, they have lucas comfort her and her dealing with her complicated feelings surrounding its death its own (great) storyline, billy assaults lucas and is racist to him and he gets...nothing? okay, he gets a blink and you'll miss it hug. you know how people are always like "has el ever said she liked anything about mike?" and stuff like that? is a single heartfelt lumax moment about lucas and not about max? and i'm not implying max doesn't have as much affection for him or saying he should have done less for her and i totally understand her situation in s4, i'm saying that the writers center max and sideline lucas in his own relationship. when they literally invented lucas first. they don't think about him. it's like @/googoogagaeyes said a few weeks ago:

Anyways, the fact that Mr. Davies "made up more stuff than [he] took from the show," for a character that has existed since S1, should signal that there is a writing problem. Although Lucas is lovely, he is also underwritten. That is the result of the Duffers and the writers room.

and i would love to have faith in them on this topic and to think that It's All Intentional or to let myself hope that they'll do better in season 5 but they won't! and not hoping for it might sound counterproductive because it's like letting them off the hook right, if no one wants white writers to do better how could you expect them to do better, but also i'm just me lmao. they won't do better or they would've done better already.

so yeahh that (black) sttwt user who got jumped by (mostly white) lumax stans DEFINITELY had a point and that incident made me stop seeing lumax stans as "the most peaceful and mature part of the fandom" lol. stans all the same at the end of the day. disregarding valid criticism because you think it's ship hate is crazy. all that to say that yeah, when people look at max, whose most meaningful connection in the show is lucas by a mile and go hm...what about mike? it does come off as "racist without intention". which is how racism tends to manifest unless you're like a white supremacist who proudly admits to being a racist lol. what about mike? while everyone's free to like some dynamics better than others and while lumax, ship so often hailed as the best one of the show, the one without flaws (even if you ignore everything i'm saying, it's not flawless, they're 14-15 and obviously struggling, if they were perfect they wouldn't be interesting), definitely has flaws, most of which can be traced back to the racist writing...looking at them and being like but what if max's most meaningful connection was MIKE, with whom most of her interactions are fights. they're best friends. don't they just NEED to bond, don't they just HAVE to be best friends, woulnd't it be SO GREAT for him to fight to get her back in s5? never mind that she has someone reading at her bedside and hoping she'll wake up any minute whose priority in season 5 is definitely gonna be to get her back. will said mike's the heart of the party so god forbid he's not the most important person in the room at all times. idk, maybe i'm just being mean right now. you're so right in saying that most of the ga would definitely never do this, they'd probably exaggerate their worst moments and say that they hate each other but i couldn't blame them when we see them argue wayyy more than we see them be bffs. because we don't see them being bffs at all.

people thought the writers had forgotten how to write mike and stopped paying attention to his character for a second after volume 2 and then realized that they haven't and that they didn't but they never knew to write lucas with all the complexity, depth and nuance they allow their white characters to have. when mike gets a conformity storyline about queerness it hits because he can technically choose for himself, either pretend to be straight and be miserable or be himself by accepting and admitting that he's queer because it'll make his life harder in a lot of ways but it'll make it worth living. lucas gets a conformity storyline that ends with a banger line, normal's just a raging psychopath. but it's not like lucas can exactly be a racist society's version of normal in the way jason is, right? he can be popular but being black isn't exactly something you can hide. being accused of trying to act white is definitely a thing when black people are seen as betraying their culture in an attempt to succeed in a predominantly white society but that's...not something i'd trust the writers to portray, especially because the thing lucas does to try to blend in, be more popular and lessen the bullying is join the basketball team, which is literally a racial stereotype. his storyline in season 4 leaves a bad taste in my mouth because their version of telling lucas to keep being a himself and a nerd sounds like having him learn to know his place. it's not the intention but him saying he "never should've knocked" literally gives that impression. and while we're on the topic of lucas in season 4, you should definitely read The Antagonism of Blackness in Netflix's Stranger Things, it's a shame this article came out in june of last year because i would have loved to read their thoughts on volume 2.

you would have to be very naive to trust them to do lucas (a character that's been here since day one!) justice, and with the fandom it's kind of like the classic "women are badly written that's why i don't care about any of them" excuse but for black characters instead. imagine this max scenario but instead of her black (ex-)boyfriend who held her as she died being intent on saving her, it's...mike? is just so "racist without intention". what is lucas doing in the meantime. the (byler/mike fans side of the) fandom is definitely not better than the writers in that regard. are fandoms ever better than the writers they love to claim aren't as progressive as them?

[shortie-wonderland]

See It in Us

"...Can I ask you something?"

"Sure..."

"Can I... Can I hold your hand?"

Several dates in, and this guy still asks me if he can hold my hand. Of course, I know with the way he raises his pitch, hands covering his mouth, and turning shyly away, that he's simply being the silly guy he is. I breathe a gasp between my lips as I reply, yessss... please do. I never imagined him to have caught my attention so deeply.

My memory of our first date goes as followed: anxiety-ridden, easy conversation, nonconsensual (but great) kiss, "bing-chilling" (John Cena) for 9 hours straight, drunk karaoke in the park, and almost hitting my head on the ceiling while on his shoulders. A wild time, as you could guess! It was only on our most recent date did I realize his memory of the date goes as followed: cute girl with pretty eyes, great conversation, deep mutual connection, a bit of hesitation about the kiss but I can't not kiss her now, and we're really hitting it off. It's peculiar how our perceptions, though not drastically different, are different enough.

There always seems to be a push and pull with each date. We consistently begin at 1 but end up at 100 by the end every time. It's as if each time we forget how to act around each other even if it's just a sparse moment during the duration of the date but are all over each other at the end of the night, without missing a beat. We could hang out for 11 hours straight and still glance at each other longingly just to have another 15 minutes together. Once, he ran his booty into the railing as he backed up after giving me my goodnight hug and kiss! He must have been distracted and coming down from a high after spending time with me. Now, he is sure to take a giant step towards either side to avoid the metal assailant before sending himself away.

I could go on and on accounting for all the good memories we've had thus far. It feels bittersweet writing this, knowing that we are still together and very much in "like," however, that may very well be gone by the summer's end. There were moments he rained kisses all over my exposed body. He planted kisses full of attentiveness and affection; I felt not hot but warmed by them like a winter cabin's cackling glow. He took his time as he went up and down my arms, my upper back and chest, the back of my legs, my eyelids and neck, and the palms of my hands. When we loved, he would look up to my face, his thick burly eyebrows turned upwards in concern and out of caution, as he waited for me to object to any of his doings. Ninety-nine percent of the time I didn't.

For the longest time, I was not scared of losing this guy I had only met less than a month ago, but now, after discussing a shortened future, my heart rocks with tumultuous waves of sadness. I'll have to lose all this up so soon? Who will watch nude bicyclist parades with me during the summer solstice? Who will send me spontaneous flower pictures? Who will feed me homemade fried rice in the upper east corner of the central library? I shouldn't write the ending before it has even occurred, but my heart is heavy. My soul is already grieving. I long for that person to hold my hand through life's trials. I long for that person who shyly offers their hand like he did but in the end never even thinks to let go. As we go on, perhaps he'll turn into that person. As we go on, perhaps our fingers will never touch again, but we can remember fondly the touches of each other that linger on forever.

[inkofamethyst]

May 15, 2023

okay.  inconsequential rant.  but.  instead of graduating with two BS degrees, I could’ve graduated with a BS in bio and a BA in anth.  all because I changed my four year plan at the last minute last sem to take stats this sem instead of another bio class.  and also because the department changed the BA requirements after I had already added the second degree.  because, like, who goes back to check the degree requirements to make such a “minor” change after already adding the degree??  originally (two years ago) the BA required a language and some other humanities classes that i didn’t have the room to take, but not anymore.  i just think it would’ve been cooler to have a BA as well, you know, to highlight my well-roundedness or whatever :(  ultimately, very very small issue.  i recognize that.  i’m just a bit annoyed is all, but it’ll pass.

In other academic news, cell bio grades went fine.  Latin honors not jeopardized.  So that’s squeaky clean.

I didn’t think I was going to cry after the concerts last night, but I was incredibly mistaken.  I sobbed for like ten minutes in some secluded part of the performing arts building (apparently not secluded enough though because some parent walked by with her kid and hugged me because she saw I was in tears) because

I don’t know if I’m ever going to do performing arts again.  If I’ll have the time, if I’ll make the cut... This has been a lifeline for me, a creative outlet, a social activity for almost as long as I’ve been alive.  Performance keeps me sane.  And I don’t wanna give it up.

Even if I can carve out some time for performing arts in the future, I highly doubt it’ll be something as cool and niche and aligned to my own personal interests as this orchestra was.

I’m going to miss these people so so much.  We’re all just passionate hobbyists.  Dedicated to making a product we can be proud of.

One of the choir directors took the time to compliment my vocal style and sincerely express his dismay at my departure.  He’s not an easy person to please, and it really touched me.  Especially since I don’t have formal vocal training which really makes me feel insecure sometimes.

I had a pretty dope solo in the fake finale, and in the first concert I missed the first note because it’s low enough in my range that, even when belting on a mic, I couldn’t hear myself over the orchestra at fortissimo to get it in tune.  No one seemed to notice, but that freaked me out.  Absolutely impacted my performance through the next several bars (missed a few planned vibratos, didn’t get full breaths in).  Then I was told that the arranger of the piece would be at the second concert, and, luckily, I hit it.  It was amazing.  After the concert, the arranger came backstage and told me that I not only killed it, but, in his opinion, sounded better than the original vocalist (I cannot tell you how many times I listened to the original recording this semester to get the feel just right, and it seems to have paid off).  That comment pushed me over the edge.

I didn’t give a senior speech because I was afraid of getting up there in front of the orch and not knowing what to say.  I probably would’ve cried then too and ruined my whole Cool Girl demeanor (but perhaps would’ve come off as a bit less aloof and a bit more human lol).  I wasn’t sure if I was going to go to the end of semester picnic, but I think I want to.  If only to hang out and say goodbye one last time.

I was supposed to go home today, but I kind of don’t want to leave.  Post-concert blues and post-concert high are mixing and it feels dreadful.  And it’s probably not just about the concert, but the whole graduation thing.  I feel like I haven’t truly exhausted the campus yet.

Today I’m thankful for the coolest thing I have ever been a part of.

[timeoverload]

It feels like I have the whole world on my shoulders right now and I am overwhelmed as always. I wish I could fix everything. I am feeling so alone even though I know I'm not. I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't like feeling miserable all the time. I don't like being so depressed because it's making everything harder.

I walked into a disaster today. The person who did eyes on Friday left me a mess and all of the pans were disorganized. It took a while to get everything sorted out. It didn't help that I was already angry before I walked in the building. I've had a short fuse all day.

I was in decontam this morning and I had to listen to the morning team lead and the repair man bitch about their wives. It really bothered me. I hope that my husband never talks shit about me behind my back like that. It made me sad for their wives and they deserve better.

I was frustrated because this person in my department keeps coming in while they are sick. They will lose their job if they call in again so they have to be there. I don't think that's fair to everyone else. They had to wear a mask and I was wearing mine all day. Hopefully that will prevent me from getting sick too. I don't want to get written up or have to work while I'm sick.

I was trying to eat my breakfast and my friend who works at the front desk came to ask me if I had heard back about any jobs. She was one of my references. I was embarrassed to tell her that I had not heard anything. I didn't want to tell her where I applied because I didn't want more people to find out. I don't want to feel humiliated.

My autoclave also broke again. This is the second week in a row that it's happened. The cycle completed and the door wouldn't open. I had 2 pans in there that I ne eded to take out. The 2 autoclaves I use have been in the hospital since before our department was even built. They just moved them when they built our department. I think they are at least 15 years old. I spent 20 minutes trying to get the door to unseal before I gave up and texted my boss to call it in. I have to be more careful with the older autoclaves. One of mine almost blew up a couple years ago. The pressure in the chamber was too high and it started making scary noises. Steam started shooting out and I'm glad that I wasn't standing right in front of it at the time. I had to go in the back room and shut it off before it did any damage. Thankfully everything was fine after I shut it off. Before I worked there, one of those older autoclaves actually blew up. It created so much force, that it sent the heavy metal door flying across the department. It would have seriously injured someone if they were in the way. I hope I never have to experience that happening. Sometimes I forget how dangerous they are because I'm around them constantly. I have gotten my hands and arms burned so many times over the years. I don't get them so much anymore, but I remember getting a burn on my arm that was so bad that I had to fill out an incident report. I don't have a lot of feeling in my fingertips anymore from touching hot stuff. I have gotten steam burns on my face and that wasn't very fun. I guess I have grown used to being in a hazardous environment.

I was so busy most of the day. I was irritated because the coordinator was putting sterile stuff away for me and she dropped 6 things in less than an hour. I had to redo them. I appreciate her helping me put stuff away but sometimes I feel like she creates more work for me on purpose. It is unusual for anyone to drop that much, but she is often careless and stacks a ton of instruments on a tiny tray. It stresses me out because I work hard on those. I guess she doesn't care because she's not the one that has to redo them. I think she might still be holding a grudge against me ever since I had an episode in the coordinators' office a couple years ago. I wish I wouldn't have done that, but I felt like I couldn't control myself at the time. I have been trying not to do anything like that since then. Now I just lock myself in the bathroom and cry when I get frustrated.

I really want a job that I won't have to complain about. I wish that I didn't take my work home with me. I can't help it because it consumes my existence. I have no balance and nothing else going on in my life.

I thought I was going to have to stay late tonight because they were taking forever to get done and everyone else was busy. I got lucky and I got out of there right on time. I guess that's one good thing that happened today.

I came home and got in an argument with my dad. I don't want to talk about it too much. I just don't do well with debates a lot of the time and they make me anxious. I really don't like to do that. They can be overstimulating for me because it takes longer for me to process information than other people so it makes it hard to come up with a response quickly. I get frustrated when I can't find the right words to say so I explode sometimes. That's why I like to write more because I can take more time to think. I don't like to argue with my dad. I'm generally not a confrontational person. Everything is fine. I'm fine. My sister was really sweet and she texted me to make sure I was ok. It helped me calm down. She is so nice but I don't hear stuff like that from her very often because she is so quiet. I said I was sorry because I don't like acting like that and that I don't want to set a bad example for her. I told her I loved her and that I was proud of her.

I have been too anxious since I got home to do anything. It's getting late already. I don't think I will eat much tonight because my stomach is upset and I have cramps. I ate a little bit. I just wish I had someone around that would bring me tacos because that's the only thing that sounds good right now. Everything hurts. I only got 4 hours of sleep last night. I don't want to get up early tomorrow. I am sorry for being so grumpy and I'm full of complaints. I know someday I won't be like this anymore. I think I need to make myself get ready for bed now. I really hope I'm in a better mood tomorrow.

I hope everyone has a good day tomorrow. Thanks for listening to me vent. 💖💖💖

[fff777]

Hiking Sehun!

On one hand, Sehun acts like an expert with how he's casually dressed and how he knows how long it'll take him to make the round trip. On the other hand, Sehun is a massive bluffer on occasion lol.

Friend telling him that he'll regret it if he doesn't eat before.

He has quite a few staff with him though, eh? I didn't notice because obviously a bunch of them are behind the camera.

Stretching must be always

Sehun's been to this mountain 5 times though, so maybe there is truth to his good estimate lol.

Sehun's been to the highest mountain in Korea, Hallasan, and it took him 8 hours.

His hands are freezing and the guy was like "I told you to wear gloves..."

Look at how bundled up this guy is compared to Sehun. It's like winter vs. spring lol.

I'd watched the Key & Renjun hiking video before and it made me jealous that there are so many mountains in Korea that are easily accessible to urbanites. I imagine it's good for their health too, both in terms of long distance walking, but also becoming accustomed to breathing in the higher altitudes.

Cameraman abandoned?!?!

Friend having a hard time and Sehun being like "I told you that's why I don't eat before hikes." l guess it's a little like how you shouldn't eat before you swim or do intensive exercise because you'll be moving up and down a lot as you go up the steps.

Friend: You should have stopped me [from eating the fish cake]

Sehun wants to bring Vivi here but he doesn't like walks lol. And also he thinks he's a human hehe.

They've only been walking for 18 minutes ^^;; Still a long way to go

4 of his team dropped out and only 3 are left!!! (Including him) RIP

It looks like the cameraman is also a hiker, so he and Sehun are chatting about hiking on Hallasan.

Sehun: Maybe I could hike Hallasan in 6 hours Cameraman: ...

Sehun took all his friends to the top of Hallasan :o A leader :P

Man, this makes me want to hike so bad!!!!!! I wish there were mountains in my area.

Sehun only started hiking 5 years ago :o Hopefully there's still hope for me lol. I mean as a person who wants to hike but is already an adult.

Sehun spotting the ones who are late lol.

I just looked up Hallasan and it's very pretty! It looks like there's something like a crater on top of a mountain and flowers grow there in the warmer months.

Sehun teaching us to wear layers :P Luckily I did know that >3

Here come the nightmare stairs???

Aw this hiking spot is very crowded on weekends :( The world is against the 9-5 workers T_T

Sehun is very no-fuss about this all :>

Sehun must have absolute thighs of steel the way he's just killing those stairs.

Less than 30% left!!!!!

He's just standing there with his arms crossed looking at the scenery like a dad

So once they arrive here, then they're almost done :3

Look at the trees behind them, they're kind of pretty :3

Sehun was saying how hiking gives him a sense of accomplishment, and it makes him feel refreshed. That's why I like running :3

Stairs are numbered

Looks like Sehun brings his friends hiking a lot :3

Sehun said Cheonggyesan isn't dangerous, just has a lot of stairs

Apparently Bukhansan has no stairs so it's dangerous, so you have to like, wear gloves and hold on to railing ^^;;

Walking around the stone three times for good energy

He's so tall lol

Absorbing energy

The manager that is lagging behind him (presumably the friend I was referring to before?) was in the Marine Corps.

The guy hiking with Sehun was also in the Marine Corps haha.

Caught up :3

In the higher sections, it looks like the steps aren't as sturdy, so you'd still have to be careful not to hurt yourself I think.

Kitty!!!!

Arrived! 582.5 m above sea level.

Reached the top in 1 hr 15 min. That's pretty good if he expected to finish the trip in 2 hr 40 min.

Look! The bird!!

The view is pretty good too.

Going down will probably be a lot faster

Sehun's ears getting cold ^^;;

Sehun learned to adapt his breathing for dancing, which he finds easier than hiking :o Every day I hear idols tell us about how literally serving in the army is less intensive than the capitalism machine.

The manager had brought walking sticks because he said it would be better for his knees on the way down lol

Manager said that he'll practise on mountains like these before challenging Hallasan

There's an elementary school at the foot of Achasan Mountain and kids just go there to play :o Awesome

Sehun recommends Bukhansan and then Hallasan

Sehun went to Hallasan a couple of days ago?? He's just busy hiking eh lol.

He had to wear spikes and bring walking sticks because it was already snowy at Hallasan.

A six year old girl climbed Hallasan!!!! Queen!!!

The video was an excuse to go hiking >3

Sehun said he didn't think Manager would go up but Manager was like "I won't give up!!"

Lol Manager was the only one who ate fish cakes XD So lesson learned I guess. Eat very lightly.

Sehun teaching Manager to go down the stairs sideways and to switch sides because it will be better on your muscles.

HIKING BATTLE!!!!! That would be sooo fun.

Omg Sehun should totally make a hiking video channel!!!!

Sehun said he expects that this will be his last video before he enlists ;_;

It took about 2 hr 15 min!! I think they managed to do it fast because they dropped the slower members of their group lol.

Sehun telling us about the elderly folks who walk backwards for their muscles.

Awww what a nice video.

Like I said with the Key & Renjun video, this just made me really want to hike.

But other than that, I liked this video! I realize that Sehun plays up the brattiness for variety content. But here, we see Sehun who's a little more himself. He enjoys hiking a lot, something that I didn't know. And he just wanted to share this activity with his fans. For once, he's the one controlling the narrative, he's showing us his hobby through his eyes, rather than his performing through the lens that the company chooses for him.

Anyway I'd be so down for Sehun starting a hiking channel. I can hike vicariously through him haha.

[brainexplosion375]

Take your lonely vitamins!

I wanna talk about being alone. I think the society that we live in makes going out alone or spending days on end without really connecting with anyone embarrassing? Being surrounded by people has become less about friendships and connecting and more about the validation we receive just by simply being seen with others. I don’t agree with that, I don’t think anyone really does but being alone is too scary to face head on. I made a friend a few months ago over facebook when I was going batshit crazy trying to find somewhere to live in a city I knew nobody in. She was going to be my roommate but credit approval got complicated and we decided to just go our own ways apartment hunting wise. She is also new to the city and we had gotten kind of close through our little online friendship so I had her on pretty much all the socials. I distinctly remember seeing her post about being at a bar. I was struck with jealousy a little bit because I just assumed she had already made friends to go out with upon moving here. But as I continued to scroll through the posts that captured her night, I realized she wasn’t with anybody. She had ordered her own uber, gone out alone, ordered her own drinks, sat by herself in the presence of strangers, and had an amazing time. This baffled me at first because the idea of doing that feels so taboo, but the more that I thought about it the more it made sense. If I feel like going to a bar because I have the most unbudgeable craving for an espresso martini (which I do get, often) then why wait around for the “ok” from someone else, just so I can feel less awkward about sitting at a bar? No, fuck that. So I tried it out for myself, I’ve been wanting to go out to this certain neighborhood in my city that's particularly LGBTQ friendly, we’re talking pride flags on every street corner. The downtown little bar scene there looked fucking adorable, and I just really wanted to see for myself, especially now that I’m 21 (woot woot happy belated to me).

I had to work at 7 am the next day so I left the house around 8, got really confused by some streets in the neighborhood and finally found some free parking. The first bar I went to I quickly realized was definitely catered towards queer women, which was honestly perfect. I walked in, looked around at some of the groups of people there and I did feel just slightly out of place but it was fine, I had told myself that I was going to order one drink and then mission accomplished. So, I sat at the bar and got ignored for a good 15 minutes, typically I have no problem addressing people when I need something but when you are out alone, everything feels ten times scarier and for some reason flagging down this bartender felt like the worst thing I could do at that moment. While I was waiting I looked over at these two girls sitting together enjoying fruity looking cocktails, we made eye contact and the social butterfly in me wanted to spark up a conversation but then I realized they were probably on a date and that wouldn’t be very appropriate. I think the bartender finally realized I existed so she took my order and the second the espresso martini that I had been fantasizing about all day was placed in front of me, I was reborn. I looked back at the couple of girls to my left, they were hitting it off, so I left that alone, but to my right was an older woman. Much older than me, I realized that when we we’re talking about nine eleven and “where were you when it happened?” She had been a senior in highschool. BUT one of the things that has helped me in my journey of being on my own is finding friends in anybody. We don’t have to be the same age, gender, orientation, any of that shit to have a beautiful friendship. So I did what I always do when I want to talk to someone. I complimented her dress, next thing I know it's been two hours and the bartender is taking away the chairs at the bar because they are opening the dance floor. Keighlley, if you see this, it was nice meeting you.

When you are prepared to face the world alone the possibilities suddenly feel like they become endless. It’s a part of becoming an adult. Are you ever just sitting at home or driving in your car and you have the sudden realization that you have 100% free will right now? You can literally do anything you want to. (Well, some things are more encouraged than others) I think about this a lot, it’s so easy to get stuck in a routine and feel like there are limitations to the things we can do with our days/weeks/months/entire lives. So, here I am, in a new city, surrounded by 1.4 million people. I'm the loneliest I’ve ever been, but that certainly doesn’t mean I'm unhappy. This post is turning out to be way more inspirational that I meant to it be but moral of the story, or as they say on Reddit, TLDR;

Don’t limit yourself for the sake of approval from others, it only exists in your head. Sometimes friends aren’t going to be on the same wavelengths as you, but don’t let that stop yours.

[folkloreguk]

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

~

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

~

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)