#maybe having it somewhere else would alleviate the embarrassment of posting such things.

[potato-lord-but-not]

man I know u had made a poll about patreon a bit ago that kinda had unfortunately low results but as someone who just got to oscar in the podcast and is going insane at the lack of blindfaith content i just want 2 say for the record UM if u ever drew spicy stuff for them on the patreon or anywhere u would have at least one very excited fan. thank u.

you see I w o u l d just find another platform to post stuff like that on free of charge (which who knows I might do anyway) but the thing is….. I’m too embarrassed to even share that with other people you’d literally actually have to pay me.

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

[minimitchell]

Thank you! I’m the one who asked about a ballum ff and there is no rush at all. It would include smut but that’s ok no 🙂 It would be Ben & callum travelling in a night bus (to somewhere) and they’d be in the very back of the bus and none of the other passengers would notice their little action time (bottom Ben straddling callum). There’s no plot lol. Callum would actually be asleep and Ben waking him, hands already all over him/under his shirt and he would have some convincing to do for Callum to be on board with it. Or something like that. Could include some funny/embarrassing moments (for Callum).Tx! .. no need to post this maybe. 😇 Or just call it the night bus request. 🚌 💕

the fantasy of you and i keeps me up awake at night (ao3 link)

sorry it took a while, anon, but here we go. also this is so outside my normal comfort zone for smut but i'm hoping y'all enjoy it anyway.

.

Taking a bus from London to Amsterdam might easily be the worst idea they have ever had.

The worst part is that there isn’t even a solid reason for them doing this. It’s not like they can’t afford a flight to Amsterdam, they definitely can. But for some reason Callum somehow managed to talk him into taking a Flixbus across the channel, just to save a few bucks. We’re homeowners now, he said. We should save money where we can, he said.

Ben kind of hates how easily he folds when it comes to his husband.

They’re about halfway through the hours-long trip, somewhere in France in the middle of the night, and the already quite empty bus is dark and mostly silent, except for that one guy near the middle who’s snoring like a small chainsaw. It seems like all the passengers are dead asleep right now - everyone except for Ben that is.

Him and Callum are in the very last row of seats; Callum in the window seat and Ben next to him. There are rows of empty seats in front of them, all the way up to the middle portion of the bus, so at least there’s some illusion of privacy. It’s definitely better than the bus being filled to the brim.

Callum is turned towards the window, a sweater bundled together to rest under his head like a pillow. He always does this on long journeys and Ben isn’t jealous of it at all, no way. He just wishes he could fall asleep in a car or on a train or on a plane, but sadly he can’t. Not like his husband can.

Ben has never been able to sleep in a moving vehicle. Ever since he was little he just couldn’t do it. It’s always too loud or not dark enough or he isn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep. Which is a pretty unfortunate circumstance when you’re trapped in a bus for hours on end in the middle of the night.

At first, he tried doing other things to keep himself entertained. He watched some videos on his phone, bothered Jay until he obviously fell asleep himself and then tried just looking out the window at the French countryside. Nothing helped alleviate his boredom and he certainly wasn’t going to spend the rest however many hours just sitting around here.

He needed something to tire him out or at least keep him occupied for some time.

And he has just the idea what that could be.

Ben leans forward into Callum’s space, letting his hand run up and down Callum’s arm, slightly shaking to get him to wake up again. He can’t have been asleep for long, or in a deep slumber yet, because he starts twitching almost immediately; that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing like it always does right before he wakes up.

“Babe? Babe. Cal, wake up.”

There’s only a groan as a response, but Ben can tell Callum is well on his way to consciousness right now. Even if he’s probably still hoping Ben will just leave him alone if he doesn’t engage.

“What?”

Callum turns around to face him, eyes still stubbornly closed; almost like he’s planning on falling back asleep once Ben has told him whatever he wants to say. Not if Ben gets his way though.

“I can’t sleep.”

Ben can feel more than hear the annoyed sigh Callum lets out at that. He cracks one eye open, peering down at Ben beside him, and whatever he finds must convince him he’s not going to go back to sleep for a while, because the next thing he does is sit up straighter, opening both of his eyes now.

He’s probably used to it after well over two years with Ben. His inability to fall asleep on the road has come up time and time again since they got together. At first, Callum thought it was a cute little quirk; like you always do when you’re first falling for someone and everything about them gives you butterflies.

He still gets them now, the butterflies, but by now Callum is probably more than aware of the fact that Ben’s sleeplessness when travelling affects him as well. Because Ben expects to be entertained by him, or at least for Callum to stay awake with him.

For the most part, Callum is fine with that seeing as they’re never really going anywhere one of them doesn’t drive to but on rare occasions like this one, it’s pretty damn grating. Callum definitely knows they’re both going to be tired and grumpy when they arrive in Amsterdam and that isn’t really how he wants to start this little getaway.

“Have you even tried?”

Ben rolls his eyes in the dark of the bus, only illuminated by the passing streetlights outside. He’s glad it’s not enough for Callum to see his expression; he needs to be on his best behavior if he wants to convince Callum of this idea in his head.

“You could help me fall asleep, you know.”

Ben’s hand runs over Callum’s thigh and dips lower to the inseam of his sweatpants, fingertips brushing against his dick over the soft fabric. Callum doesn’t turn away from the touch, but he does lift his thigh a little so that Ben’s hand dislodges from his place against his cock.

“Ben! No.”

“Come on. No one will notice.”

He leans in close to whisper the words into Callum’s ear, making sure to dart his tongue out and trace along the lobe for good measure afterwards. He’s not above pulling out all the stops to convince Callum to do this with him right now. It might have just been a quick throwaway idea, but the more he thinks about the possibility of it the hornier he finds himself getting.

His hand dips lower again; fingers dancing up and down Callum’s shaft. This time, Callum lets him continue his actions; his dick slowly but surely hardening under Ben’s touch.

“Absolutely not.”

Callum’s protest is weak, his voice already way too breathless to be taken seriously by Ben. If he really were against this, Ben would stop immediately. But he knows his husband pretty well and he can read his body like a book. Every little reaction is telling enough for Ben.

It’s all the go-ahead he needs.

“S’not what your dick says.”

As if to prove a point, Ben tightens his hand, reveling in the hard intake of breath Callum does in response to it. He can tell his husband is trying his hardest to keep the noises in. So much so that Ben almost lets the desire to coax each sound out of Callum overtake him, damning any embarrassing consequences it could bring.

“Because you keep, hm, keep touching it.”

Ben barely manages to keep his gleeful laugh in when Callum pushes his leg out, opening his thighs wider and giving Ben better access to his dick. It means he can crowd in even closer and twist his hand just right, now firmly holding onto his husband’s length. Callum’s head tips backwards against his seat, eyes closing against the onslaught of arousal.

The taught, white skin of his neck is too inviting for Ben not to lean down and attach his mouth to it, trailing up and down.

“Ben, we can’t. Not here.”

Callum leans far enough back to catch Ben’s eyes. Ben thinks he’s trying to look stern and he’d probably succeed if Ben didn’t have his hard cock in his hand right now. The least he can do is offer him some relief.

Ben’s free hand runs up Callum’s chest, his fingers playing with the collar of his dark blue sweatshirt. He presses his nose back up against Callum’s cheek, looking up at him from under his lashes. There’s a smile playing on his face that always seems to come so naturally to him whenever he’s with Callum, even if he’s trying to be sexy right now.

“We’ll be quiet.”

“You’ve never been quiet in your life during sex.”

It’s a good point. An extremely good point considering how many pointed comments they received that period of time they were living at Stuart and Rainie’s flat. Or from Lola before that. So yeah, Callum does have a point when he says he’s not the quietest person during sex.

And it’s not like he can talk as well. Callum is incredibly noisy when he wants to be. Or rather, when he lets himself be.

Maybe Ben just needs to take it up a notch in order to get Callum on board with this.

“It’ll be a laugh. Come on, I know you, baby. You like it a little dangerous. Out in the open. Remember, I know all your fantasies, babe.”

It’s true. Ben had an inkling that there was a secret exhibitionism kink hiding behind Callum’s big innocent giant act when he had no qualms about getting hot and heavy in the park during their first intimate encounter together, but he had no idea just how much Callum gets turned on by the chance of them being interrupted or heard by someone else.

He isn’t opposed to the odd quickie in the car lot or at the Arches when Ben is supposed to be working and anyone could walk in at any time. There are times he gets his husband so riled up with little comments and strategically placed touches that he drags Ben into the toilets in the Albert to give his mouth and hands something else to do. And they’ve even revisited that park once or twice to pay a little tribute to the thing that started it all between them.

So he knows perfectly well that the thought of doing anything here, where any other person on the bus could easily wake up and figure out what exactly they’re doing, must be quite exhilarating for Callum. He can’t really play the purity card when Ben can physically feel him growing harder at his hushed words.

Like he said, he knows Callum. They’re open and honest about what turns them on and off, what they like and dislike. No one has ever known him as intimately and deeply as Callum does and Ben knows it’s the same the other way as well. Ben loves that.

It also means that he can pinpoint the exact second Callum lets himself give in and shifts into what Ben teasingly calls his sexy mode. It’s a win for Ben, for sure.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Callum wraps his arm around Ben’s waist and tugs until Ben understands what he wants him to do. He sits himself square on Callum’s lap, legs resting on either side of Callum’s hips on the plush seats and fingers immediately finding a home in Callum’s hair, combing through the strands. He hasn’t had it cut in a while, too lazy to do it so close to their little holiday, and Ben can’t find the words to say just how much he loves it like this. He looks almost prince-like when it’s all soft and flat on his head and it’s the prettiest thing in the world to Ben.

“Thought you were gonna say I should be lucky I’m so fit.”

“Hm, that too.”

Callum’s smirk tastes a lot like bliss when their lips meet in a kiss, their tongues brushing almost immediately. Ben is trying hard to keep the sighs from escaping his throat, knowing they have to be quiet for this to go any further. But he can’t help it, kissing Callum is close to being the best thing he has ever gotten to do.

Even if he tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Ben knew that first time they kissed each other that it was different with Callum; that it felt different with him. When their lips had met that night, he had felt it in his bones. Ben knows how rare it is to feel this way and Callum has never made him feel any different since.

Ben’s hands leave their place in Callum’s hair to travel down his chest, running over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He can feel the intake of breath Callum does when he reaches the edge of his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the waistband. Ben looks up to see if there’s any hesitation on Callum’s face, any sign that he isn’t one hundred percent on board with this, but Callum seems perfectly fine by the looks of it, with his eyes still closed like he wants to savor their kisses and the tips of his ears turning pink.

The grey fabric gets pushed down just enough for Ben to free Callum’s still hard cock, lazily sliding his fist up and down the shaft. Seeing Callum bite his bottom lip to refrain from making any noise at Ben’s actions fills him with a surge of heat that travels all throughout his body. Maybe they have to look more into this, if Callum’s inability to make much noise gets Ben so hot and bothered.

Right now though, he’s more concerned with getting himself undressed as well, just enough to get Callum in him. It’s a tight fit back here and Ben has to move around a fair bit to get his own pants far enough down to still be able to move on top of him. Ben has had sex in cars before so he knows how to maneuver himself, but a cramped seat on a bus is still vastly different from lying flat on your back in the backseat of a Ford.

They keep a small packet of lube in the side pocket of the backpack for situations just like this one and it turns out to be a godsend again and again, this time being no different. Ben is the first to admit he used to be a little bit slutty and while he doesn’t care for sex with anyone that isn’t Callum anymore, some remnants of that time in his life still remain. Remnants, for which having lube on hand at all times proves to be very helpful.

He’s glad Callum appreciates their spontaneity as well.

At any other time, Ben would let Callum open him up. His fingers are long and slender, thick enough to fill him just right, and they’re sure to drive him positively mad each and every time. Callum knows where and when to drag, to go fast or when to let Ben catch his breath to keep him teetering just on the brink.

But space is limited as it is and it’s easier for Ben to reach down and open himself up. Besides, seeing the way Callum’s face shifts into open hunger and desire as he watches Ben touch himself more than makes up for the lack of his husband’s fingers in him. There’s so much heat and open amazement for Ben in his eyes, it makes Ben breathless with want for the man in front of him.

The air around them feels thick and stuffy; charged in the best way possible. Ben keeps his lips firmly pressed together, effectively trapping in any sounds threatening to escape; his free hand digging into the skin of Callum’s biceps, making dents in the skin. They could easily be the only two people in this bus, in the world, right now. It feels like it; it always does.

Everything is zeroed down to just them when they’re together like this, like nothing else matters except for them making the other feel good. And he wants nothing more right now than to make Callum feel absolutely wrecked.

Ben detracts his fingers when he feels like he’s at least somewhat ready, reaching out to coat Callum’s dick with the excess lube on his hand. Before he can wrap his fingers around Callum’s length though, he’s stopped by a hand on his chest, causing him to catch his husband’s eyes almost immediately.

“Wait.”

Ben is about to climb down from Callum’s lap, thinking he has changed his mind about this and wanting to give him space, but Callum keeps him seated with a hand on his hip now. Instead, he’s leaning down himself, his other hand disappearing in the backpack still sitting in the space under their seat.

“What?”

The confusion doesn’t lift when Callum eventually finds what he must have been looking for, unearthing two condoms from somewhere in the bag. They obviously haven’t used condoms in ages but they still keep some just in case. Better than throwing them away, right? Ben just doesn’t understand what Callum wants with them now.

“I’m not about to get cum on this bus. And neither are you.”

Ben doesn’t really care about it, but he’s not going to start arguing with his husband when he’s this close to getting lucky. Callum could probably ask him to wear a clown costume and Ben would do it if it meant he���d get fucked by Callum in a timely manner. He’s that whipped for his husband’s dick.

He lets Callum roll the condom onto his dick, suppressing the moan clawing itself up his throat when Callum runs his fingers up and down the length of it for good measure. Maybe having to be completely silent while he’s getting laid is going to be more difficult than Ben had first thought.

Before Callum can put the condom on himself though, Ben stops him to do the honors himself, coating Callum’s dick with the excess lube still covering his other hand. He sinks down as slowly as he can, almost drawing blood from how hard he’s biting down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.

The fabric of Callum’s sweatpants is a stark contrast to his smooth skin and the feeling is simultaneously alien and exhilarating. They don’t have a lot of clothed sex, not like this anyway, and the almost foreign feeling against his bare ass is another stimulant for Ben’s already overloaded brain, all mixing together to create a mess of heightening arousal.

Ben eventually bottoms out, head tipped back and mouth open on a silent gasp. He can feel Callum’s heaving breaths where he’s pressed against him, his chest rising and falling in quick tempo.

“You good?”

Callum mumbles the words into Ben’s own shirt, pressed against his sternum. He sounds wrecked from just those two, little words; out of breath and completely wild. It’s one of the best sounds Ben ever got to hear; topped among other things only by Callum’s uninhibited moans when Ben makes him feel especially good.

Ben’s head tips back forward to nod at his husband, sealing their mouths back together when he begins to move. The rise and fall of his hips pushes sounds from him that he stifles by pressing his firmly-closed lips against Callum’s with all his might. Callum’s hands are fisted in Ben’s shirt, bunching up the back and wrinkling the dark red fabric.

It’s fucking good - it always is with Callum, better than anything he’s known before - but when Callum moves to adjust their bodies to meet Ben’s thrusts halfway, it becomes a little too good. On the next down movement, Callum thrusts up as well and the subtle change in their position means he’s now able to hit deeper, nudging right against that spot that makes Ben see stars.

Callum must be able to sense what this is doing to Ben, must be able to read his body and its tells better than he does himself, because he reaches around to clamp a hand over Ben’s mouth, pushing one finger in for Ben to bite down on it, nipping the scream that’s about to topple out of his mouth in the bud before it can be unleashed.

It would be a miracle if no one heard his moan, even muffled by Callum’s hand over his mouth, and Ben thinks they can really count themselves lucky if they didn’t manage to wake anyone up with it. He’d be more preoccupied with it, if he weren’t so trapped in the feeling of pure pleasure overtaking every nerve-ending in his body.

He’s panting hot against Callum’s hand now; heat spreading in his belly to announce his impending orgasm hurtling closer and closer. It doesn’t feel fair to Ben that he’s the only one struggling to contain his moans though; he thought Callum would have a lot more difficulties holding back.

It’s a good thing he knows Callum better than anyone; knows exactly what makes him lose control. It’s definitely a dirty trick to play but the whole reason they’re doing this right now is because they like it a bit dirty, right? So Ben doesn’t exactly feel bad when he lets one of his hands wander down to Calum’s chest, expertly finding his left nipple. He clamps his other hand over Callum’s mouth before he pinches his fingers, reveling in the way Callum’s hips involuntarily buck upwards in response.

Callum lightly bites the palm of his hand in retaliation and Ben can’t help but smile at it, even in the midst of heavy passion. He just really loves it when Callum is being silly and playful with him. Especially during sex.

The smile quickly dies down though when Callum’s free hand wraps around Ben’s cock, setting a punishing rhythm. Ben isn’t sure when this became seeing who can make the other come first, but he isn’t complaining. Not at all.

Not when it means he gets to feel that burning sensation take over his entire body, his muscles tensing and then relaxing as the waves of his climax wash over him. He must pinch Callum’s nipple again in his haze of pleasure, because he bucks into Ben again once, twice before he’s also coming. The hand that just moments ago had coaxed Ben’s orgasm out of him now snakes around his middle to pull him closer into Callum’s body.

They’re so close they might as well be one entity, one sole person. Their hands fall from each other’s mouths, wrapping around any skin they can reach to unite the two of them in a tight hug. Ben tucks his head into the crease of Callum’s neck, waiting until the tremors subside and their breathing returns to a normal pace.

It takes a lot longer than Ben would like to admit for him to regain the feeling in his legs enough to dismount and fall into the seat beside Callum again. He has just enough brainpower to take the condom off and tie it, thankful for Callum taking it off of him because he would have no idea how or where to get rid of it right now.

He pulls his pants and underwear back up, trying to make himself look at least a bit presentable, but his movements feel slowed down; his limbs already being pulled under the mantle of sleepy exhaustion.

Ben is still too out of it to notice what exactly Callum does to get rid of the condoms but whatever it is, it only takes him a few moments until he leans back into the seat, putting on his own clothes again as well.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Hm. Tired.”

Callum lets out a quiet chuckle, pulling Ben into his side, letting him tuck himself into his body. He’s definitely all too aware of the fact that Ben always conks out almost immediately after sex and Ben feels his eyes fall shut as soon as his head is pillowed on Callum’s chest.

The last thing he’s conscious of is Callum pressing a kiss to his forehead, mumbling something about getting Ben to shut up, before finally, finally, falling asleep for the remainder of their journey.

He’ll have to keep this in the back of his mind for the ride back.

[creativelyderangedme]

Under New Management

I literally had this just sitting on my computer. I wrote this back in October and totally forgot I even wrote it. So, I finished it and posted it here for your reading pleasure! 

I am also apparently ‘reveal trash’ and totally fine with this.

Post Miracle Queen - like, literally that night.

“Soooo... does this mean I have to start calling you mistress?”

In the dead of night, somewhere inconspicuous to the rest of the world, a heavy, tense (maybe even a little thoughtful) silence was unceremoniously murdered between two figures hunched over a strange looking box. Circle... Egg-thing?

“I mean, it's not really my kink, but who doesn't own at least one pair of handcuffs, amirite?”

This, coming from the person clad in a skin-tight leather catsuit. 

“Chat... two minutes. You cant even be serious for two goddamn minutes?”

The frustration in his partner’s tone could not hide the fresh tint of pink from his night vision. No matter how much she might try and deny it.

Chat Noir grinned deviously, “Not when there is a lifetime's worth of jokes literally begging to be made about all of this. It's my job to be the comic relief in this duo and I take that responsibility very seriously.”

Ladybug looked unimpressed, “That's about the only thing you take seriously.”

Rude.

But he wouldn’t hold it against her. He knew she was under a little more stress than usual at the moment.

“It worked though, didn't it?”

Her spotted mask lifted with the raise of her brow, “How so?”

“You're not glaring at the box like it's about to murder you anymore.”

Ladybug opened her mouth to say something, only to pout at him.

Because he was right. And she knew it.

“Well... I guess you have a point there.” She conceded.

“That constitutes a win in my book.”

She rolled her eyes before they landed back on the box in question with a sigh. The expression was far more subdued than it had been but no less terrified.

“So, guardian huh? How's it feel?”

"Like my life just got twenty times more complicated, to be honest." She said before realizing how much truth she'd put behind those words. He'd seen her at her limit more than once today and it was like seeing her for the first time all over again. With how she carried herself normally, it was easy to forget that she was just like him. Young. Inexperienced. Afraid. Human. Flying by the seat of her pants with the weight of the city on her shoulders.

Now she had the weight of being the guardian on her back too. It felt unfair. Not that he'd want to take her place. For once it was a responsibility he did not envy in the slightest. 

But it hurt to see her like this.

Hunched over. Sinking into herself. Gaze flighty as it darted over the object of her oppression like it might jump up and tear her to shreds.

"It doesn't have to be." He mumbled, unable to keep the words from slipping, but finding he doesn't mind that they had. "More difficult, I mean."

"Oh? And what do you propose I do? Find someone else? I've only barely begun training to be the guardian. I can't just ask some random-"

"Not what I meant, bug." He cut her off quickly, yet gently, voice soft and calming, a knowing grin forming knowing that if he hadn't she would have ranted herself into a coma. "I just mean you don't have to do it alone. And besides, you're the guardian, now. Which means you get to make the rules."

"I... I get to make the rules?" She asked, looking back at him like it was a foreign concept.

He hummed as he nodded, "Of course. You're the boss now. Which means you get to choose how you run the show."

"I get to... choose."

"That... that also means you get to decide who you are from here on out." He added almost sadly. "A-and who I am, too."

That seemed to startle her as she looked up at him quickly, "I just... I mean... we were chosen by Master Fu, and you might... you might decide being ladybug and guardian is too much, and that's okay. You can choose which you want to be now."

And while he hoped she wouldn’t quit being Ladybug, the alternative was giving up her memories.

"There's a third option too."

He blinked up and found he wasn't fond of what she was implying. Did she want to give up the mantle completely? Had all of this been so daunting that even his ever inspired partner was crumbling under the weight?

But his fears were only slightly alleviated when a soft smile broke over her lips and she looked up to gaze at him. "I think... I think I like the third option the best."

He tried to remain positive and keep his worry from his eyes, "oh? A-and what is option three?"

The sweetness in her smile melted his heart as it grew on her face at his question when suddenly there was a flash of bright pink light that made him glance away before he could be blinded.

Looking back once it faded though, he was shocked to find himself staring at pastels instead of polka dots. Flushed cheeks instead of face mask.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng instead of Ladybug.

She extended her hand to him in the friendliest display of greetings; her smile just as kind and warm and lovely as ever, "Hi, my name is Marinette, but you know that already." She chuckled softly, if not a little embarrassed - most likely referring to their countless run-ins when he'd caught her in the midst of Akuma attacks she wasn't supposed to be near.

But then again... he guessed this meant that she had been exactly where she was supposed to be all that time.

His heart had stopped yet hammered at the same time. His worlds collapsed into themselves. His civilian life colliding with his hero in the most painfully euphoric of ways.

All this time... she'd been right there. Right behind him in class, right beside him as his friend. She'd always been right there. And he felt all the more complete for it. Like a piece of the puzzle of his life had finally clicked in to place.

He let a little choked chuckle escape him as he took her hand in his, eyes softening on the girl who had his heart so completely wrapped around her talented fingers, "yeah... I know exactly who you are, princess." He still didn't know what this meant. And just as happy as he was to finally know who was under the mask, he was suddenly terrified he was about to lose her, "are... are you sure you're okay with this?" He asked, knowing how she'd always felt about knowing their identities.

She took a deep breath, allowing for her smile to dip only slightly before it was set it a more determined line, "you said it yourself, Chat. If I'm the guardian now, I get to make the rules. And I know how much keeping this secret has hindered us as a team. More than that though, I know I can't do this alone. I need someone I can trust. And there is no one in the world that ladybug trusts more than Chat Noir."

It was like she'd proposed to him. He felt the emotion well up on him before he could even think to keep it under control. The grin on his face and sparkle in his emerald eyes was pure elation.

“Well, Marinette,” He drawled, gripping her hand in their silly handshake a little tighter as he called off his own transformation - leaving Adrien Agreste with Chat Noir’s signature grin lighting up the entire space, “There’s no one in the world I’d rather be partners with.”

[hunnybadgerv]

❤️— How do they most often express their love? Verbally or through actions?

💝— What are their best qualities as a partner?

💢— What are some habits of theirs that would take some getting used to?

✈️— How far will they go in public? What’s the weirdest place they’ll do it?

🚪— What would kill their trust in their partner/close them off? Could this ever be amended?

for bish and whoever else you'd like!!

Emoji Character Asks

❤️— How do they most often express their love? Verbally or through actions? Bishop: Like their parents, they have a very tactile love language. It is very much through actions by and large.

Joel: He uses both in equal measure. There’s never a question as to whether Joel likes or loves someone or not. He will show it in all the ways, and tell them outright. Of course, if he doesn’t like a person, he is just as obvious and blatant about it.

Rei: As a scientist, Rei puts more trust in the blatancy of words than the interpretation of action. Actions can be misinterpreted, whereas straight honest words are far more likely to correctly and adequately convey meaning and intent. 

💝— What are their best qualities as a partner? Bishop: They are patient, easy-going, and accepting. 

Joel: He is incredibly loving and accepting. He will dote on his partners, flatter them, be their biggest cheerleader.

Roxanne: She is very socially and emotionally aware and can sense stress and discomfort in their partners, which she’ll try to help alleviate. She is also quite protective. 

Rei: She is very open and a good listener. 

Simone: She is far better with actions than words. 

Nahia: For Nahia, actions are easier than words. Words means she has to actually admit things to herself as well as someone else. 

💢— What are some habits of theirs that would take some getting used to? Bishop: Collecting random broken tech, which they put wherever. 

Rei: She is a little on the side of obsessive about her space. She likes things the way she likes them. 

Joel: He has no sense of decorum and has been known to walk around in the nude far too often. Especially in his own apartment and when he starts to feel like he’s home somewhere. He’s not even a little embarrassed about it.

✈️— How far will they go in public? What’s the weirdest place they’ll do it? Bishop: They have no issue with serious flirting, maybe some subtle teasing. A hand on the hip, whispering in the other person’s ear, maybe a stolen kiss here or there. They aren’t big on the public displays for a lot of reasons, they believe something are better left to time alone. Though I am seeing that Mason enjoys challenging some of Bishop’s takes on displays of affection and the like. Probably their silver hatchback--not particularly weird, but definitely a challenge. 

Joel: He’s like the direct opposite of Bishop. He’ll start and finish something in the middle of a given the chance and his partner is into it. I would not be surprised to find out that there’s a covert video of him on the internet somewhere. Heck, he might have even posted it himself. Who knows? He’s very open with affection--platonic, romantic, and sexual. He doesn’t see the point in hiding how he feels, especially when he really cares about someone. I think the weirdest place he’s probably done it is ... I honestly cannot even imagine that there’s a place he’d say no to. 

I really want to answer this about some of the others, but right now these are the only two whose love interest I’m even certain about. So, I might have to revisit this later.

🚪— What would kill their trust in their partner/close them off? Could this ever be amended? Bishop: The thing that would close Bishop off to their partner would be that partner pressuring them into doing something they were not comfortable with, and I’m not sure that this could be amended. It feels for them to be a nonreversible type of betrayal.

Rei: Lying. Rei struggles with finding out that UB and her mother lied to her. It kind of stalls the development of their friendships for a time because they did not trust her as she trusted them. It really hits her pretty hard. But it is mended, eventually; though her relationships with some of the members of the unit are a little more strained than others. I think if additional lies and half-truths were revealed it would be a little more of an issue for her. 

She realizes that with the structural nature of the Agency that there will be things in the future that she is not privy to, but she does see a difference there, which is why she’s able to get past the feeling of betrayal from the lies and hidden information as quickly and easily as she does. But it really does sting at first, because she took them and their purpose in Wayhaven at face value as they and her mother presented it. 

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (15) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: oh u thought the worst of the angst was over? it’s only just begun. apologies in advance hnggggggg. love is always appreciated here or over on my blog! love and hugs xxxxxxxxx

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet helped Vanessa deal with the aftermath of the breakup, aided by lecture-skipping and the prospect of a pink-haired rebound. Monet was gearing up to ask Nina to be her girlfriend in the most elaborate of ways, and Scarlet and Yvie finally said the most important three words to each other since “let’s get takeaway”.

this chapter: it’s Valentine’s Day, Brooke is a living flip flop, and something happens that nobody saw coming.

***

“Ayo. We’ve got a mouse.”

Brooke finally got her jacket off that she’d been struggling with and faced Yvie, who was lounging on the sofa in their little living room in front of the TV. “Well isn’t that a romantic Valentine’s Day greeting.”

“Well we do,” Yvie shrugged, Brooke leaving her bag on the kitchen table and joining Yvie in front of Coronation Street. “This storyline has been going for about a year, I swear to God.”

“Should you not be out doing romantic shit with Scarlet?” Brooke asked, hearing how monotone her voice was but unable to take it back now. Yvie looked across at her and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s got uni. I’m picking her up from her flat at five, we’re going for drinks and then out to the restaurant.”

“Picking her up with what, your bare hands?” Brooke let out a small laugh, Yvie chucking a couch cushion at her and snorting.

“Shut up. I’ll get an uber. I might even get an uber exec, really push the boat out,” she quipped, Brooke laughing again. As her laughter died down, Yvie tilted her head. “So what’re your plans for tonight?”

Brooke groaned and tilted her head to the ceiling. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stick on some films, eat some chocolate. Maybe skype my parents. I’ll be fine.”

“You said that twice.”

“Well I will be.”

Yvie made a click with her tongue. “And we all know the hallmark of a person who’s fine is if they have to repeat it about twenty billion times.”

“Yvie Oddly, ladies and gentlemen, queen of exaggeration,” Brooke said sarcastically, Yvie giving a sarcastic flourish of her hand right back at her. In the conversational lull, Brooke checked her phone. All over her instagram page there were couples; disgusting, happy couples who really were just making an embarrassment of themselves with their totally cringeworthy captions. “Happy Valentine’s Day to my number one” with every heart emoji under the sun, “happy vday baby i love u” beneath a picture of someone’s boyfriend pulling a silly face, and the worst, “he’s ok”, the understated caption contrasted by the horrendously soppy picture of a couple that Brooke knew from back home kissing for the camera.

Brooke had a cheek, she supposed. She’d made her bed- breaking up with Vanessa, as difficult as it was, was supposed to make her happier and make everything go back to normal. But it hadn’t. Knowing how much she’d hurt Vanessa brought no happiness to her at all, nor did it make her life any easier. Seeing her post sad, slow R&B song after sad, slow R&B song to her instagram story didn’t alleviate her guilt, nor did her radio silence on the group chat. Brooke had seen her only once since the breakup- across the square on campus when Vanessa didn’t realise Brooke could see her, flanked by Silky and Akeria, wearing baggy clothes and not a scrap of makeup, her face and eyes puffy and red. There was nothing about Brooke that was relieved; she desperately wanted to be there for Vanessa, to dry her tears and talk shit about herself. She had the deepest desire to be a friend to her through the breakup she had been the cause of, because ultimately she still cared about her. Brooke didn’t know if that was normal or not. She was past caring or trying to figure it out.

What was she going to do tonight? Yvie was out with Scarlet, Nina was at Monet’s right that minute. Plastique had told her in the library the other day that she was going for drinks with Ariel (“the most casual of drinks”, she’d said, although Brooke knew it would be anything but casual). She didn’t know what the others would be doing. Akeria would probably drag Vanessa on a night out and Silky wouldn’t need much encouragement to go either. It looked like Brooke was in for a night by herself after all.

Mid-scroll, one of the uploads caught Brooke’s eye- a photo from months back at Vanessa’s birthday night out of all eight of them together, dressed up and smiling with their arms around each other. It was only a few seconds later that Brooke realised she was smiling at it, completely unaware that her facial expression had changed. She wished they could all go back to October. She would exchange all the hurt and the guilt and the sadness that she’d caused in exchange for pining for Vanessa for the rest of her days. Her eyes drifted down to the caption, and her stomach plummeted when she realised who it was posted by.

missvanjiemissvanjie Happy Valentine’s Day to my day ones! Best bitches I could ask for in my life. Love you!! 💓

Brooke scanned the photo again. She hadn’t been cropped out, even though she was on the edge of the photo- the curse of being tall, Nina had called it. Her heart began to spring to life. This was a good sign. Vanessa clearly didn’t hate her, and somewhere deep inside her was a want to be friends again and go back to how things used to be. Injected with optimism, Brooke clicked on Vanessa’s messages. She paused for a moment, looking back at the last ones they’d sent- the day of the breakup, Brooke asking to talk, Vanessa wondering if everything was alright. It felt like a harpoon to her stomach.

Trying to stay positive, Brooke typed out a message.

B: Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. I know we said we still wanted to try and be friends so I was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out tonight? Just as friends obviously. Since everyone else will be busy. Let me know.

Brooke’s finger hovered over the “x”. She decided against it. Hitting send, she found herself waiting anxiously for a reply.

“How do you know we have a mouse anyway?” Brooke asked Yvie, her words suddenly registering. Yvie shrugged.

“Ran across the worktop about five minutes before you came in.”

“What the hell are we going to do about it, then? I don’t want to even imagine what Nina’s reaction’s going to be if she sees it,” Brooke shuddered.

Yvie laughed. “No, Scarlet’s going to be the same. I don’t know, she looked like a nice lil’ fucker. I think we should get a cage. Put a block of cheese in it and then keep her as a pet."

Brooke felt her phone vibrate twice. Picking it up to check it and seeing that both the messages were from Vanessa, she nonchalantly carried on the conversation. "So Scarlet would be fine with that, would she?”

“Scarlet isn’t here all the time.”

“No, just 99% of it,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, opening Vanessa’s messages.

V: lmao

V: Are you on crack. You broke my heart two weeks ago and now you’re trying to be my friend already. Have you never heard of a thing called a healing process?

Brooke felt her stomach tense. She hovered her thumbs over her screen to reply, but nothing she thought of seemed to make sense or be the slightest bit appropriate. Despondent, she was about to close her phone when another message shot through.

V: And I’m busy anyway. So it still would have been a no.

Well, that was that. Vanessa was out with Silky and Akeria, and clearly she wasn’t invited. That was fine. Brooke could have kicked herself. She instantly wished she’d never been so tone-deaf. It had been a stupid suggestion. Of course Vanessa wasn’t going to be best friends with her a fortnight after they’d broken up.

Brooke couldn’t help the fact that she missed her, though. Even just as a friend.

“Hey, panini head? Are you listening to me?” Yvie suddenly yelled, her best Gordon Ramsay impersonation catching Brooke off-guard.

“What?”

“I said, would you look after Mrs Tibbs if I went home for the weekend?”

Brooke rubbed her temples in confusion. “Who’s Mrs-”

“The mouse! Jesus, Brooke, have you been on this earth for the past five minutes?” Yvie laughed, then gradually a frown spread onto her face. “What’s wrong?”

Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been showing her guilt and disappointment on her face. She sighed. “It’s nothing. I just still feel bad. About Vanessa, you know.”

Yvie furrowed her brow. “Listen, girl, I know dumping someone is hard and it’s unpleasant. Shit, I would know, I’ve had to do it enough times. But there comes a point where you’ve got to stop beating yourself up about it. I mean you ultimately did what was best for the pair of you. It wasn’t fair to string her along if you didn’t want to be with her. It hurts her now, but it’s better in the long run.”

Brooke nodded. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder…

…it didn’t matter.

Brooke’s phone vibrated again. She hoped and prayed it wasn’t another text from Vanessa to berate her for her shitty idea. What was to come would actually make her feel a hundred times worse.

Okay Then: happy valentines day fuckers!!!!!!! even though im out being soppy tonight i still want u all to know that ur my main bitches and number ones and i love u all sm 💖💖💖

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: You’re disgusting. Love you too hoe xxxxxx

Yvie’s Bitch: Awwwwwww Plastique!!!!! We love you too!!!!

Yvie’s Bitch: What’re everyone’s plans for Valentine’s Day?????

Scarlet’s Bitch: i don’t know i’ve got plans with this weird girl called……Scarface? idk i’ll probs cancel on her

Yvie’s Bitch: Suck my clit x

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag For Life: Children PLEASE

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: HAPPY INTERNATIONAL DAY OF FUCKING

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ME N KIKI GOING OUT ON THE TOWN LOOKING FOR THIRD DIVISION FOOTBALL PLAYERS

Okay Then: oh bitch aim high? second division xo

Brooke’s heart dropped twenty storeys when she saw who was typing. Their names on the chat had been quietly changed back, but Brooke still knew who it was.

cursed SatNav voice: Happy Valentine’s Day hoes ���💓💓

cursed SatNav voice: Even though all you couples can suck a bag of dicks

Scarlet’s bitch: gladly, bitch 💜

Okay Then: Vanj are u not going out with Silk n Kiki?? bc if not ur welcome to join me n Ariel!! it’s just casual!!

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YES PLASTIQUE IM SURE SHED LOVE TO THIRD WHEEL U AND UR HONEYMOON PHASE FLATMATE

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: anna ou

cursed SatNav voice: 💓 That’s sweet but I’m busy tonight!! Thanks though boo

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: SHE GOT A DATE ANYWAY

Time seemed to freeze. Brooke couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe. All she was able to do was blink at her phone screen as the chat blew up around her. It was only after a few moments that she realised Yvie was looking at her.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Um. Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Brooke stammered, nodding and putting her phone down in a futile effort to seem relaxed. Yvie gave a laugh.

“Brooke, you can’t break up with her and then get mad she’s going on a date with someone else.”

Brooke bristled. “No, that’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

There was a small silence as Yvie typed away at her screen, her eyebrows raised in a defiant show of disbelief. In the silence, Brooke gathered her thoughts.

“I’m just kinda…I don’t know. Not hurt, but…I mean I thought she cared about me a bit more than to be over me in the space of two weeks.”

Yvie gave a gasp, clutching at her heart. “Oh! The fragile ego of Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes. The wings of a moth cannot compare, nor the web of a spider!”

“You know, you can be a really shit friend when you want to be,” Brooke spat, getting up without a second thought and storming through to her bedroom. She threw herself down on her bed and curled up into a small ball, wishing the world would give her a break.

Her ego was hurt. Her pride was battered and bruised. She supposed she’d been so used to being revered and cared for in the eyes of Vanessa that she found it odd for that to no longer be the case. Brooke sighed. Yvie was right- she wasn’t supposed to care this much, she was supposed to be happy. Fuck, shouldn’t this have been the ideal outcome? Vanessa had moved on already.

So why did Brooke feel absolutely gutted?

She sat on her bed in the cold of her room, stewing in her thoughts, trying to figure them out and failing. She didn’t know how long she’d been there for but it had clearly been enough time for Yvie to make a cup of tea, as Brooke found when her flatmate gave a gentle knock on her door and shuffled in with the Sports Direct mug in her hand.

“Hey,” Yvie began, crossing the room and putting the mug down on Brooke’s cluttered bedside table. She sighed and lay down on top of Brooke in what could have been a cuddle or an attempt at smothering her to death. “Brooky, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. She used to call me that and…” Brooke began, sighing when she couldn’t figure out why she had an issue with it. “I don’t know.”

Brooke wrestled an arm free from under Yvie’s stomach and brought it to rest over her back. It felt more like a cuddle now.

“I knew she was going on a date, by the way. Scarlet told me the other day. I just didn’t think you’d give a fuck,” Yvie said quietly. Brooke exhaled and felt her ribcage deflate.

“I didn’t think I would either,” she said, feeling small. There was a pause. “What’s her name?”

“Monique. The girl from Monet’s party with the purple hair,” Yvie said. It felt like a stab through Brooke’s chest. She remembered Monique, she remembered the way Vanessa had laughed at her stories and the way Monique had looked at her and the obvious chemistry between them. “If it helps, Brooke, I don’t think it’s going to be anything serious. Scarlet said that apparently she literally gave Vanjie her number and was like ‘In case you ever want a rebound’. They’ve been messaging all week. Tonight’s more of a 'fuck Valentine’s Day’ drink than anything else.”

Brooke thought about Vanessa’s perfect body, about her touching Monique the way she used to touch Brooke, talking to her like she used to talk to Brooke, someone else making her come apart the way Brooke used to. Brooke rolled out from under Yvie, grabbed her pillow, and buried her face in it, letting out a long, loud groan.

“Do you feel like you fucked it?” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice ask matter-of-factly. Brooke brought the pillow off her face and whined.

“No! No, I made the right decision. I didn’t want to be Vanessa’s girlfriend. It’s just fucking…weird. It doesn’t exactly fill me with glee thinking of her with somebody else, you know?”

Yvie smirked. “Because you know Monique’s going to fuck her better?”

Brooke launched the pillow at her flatmate, Yvie giggling. “Sorry! Sorry! Fuck, okay, point taken. Inappropriate.”

There was a silence. Yvie’s joke still hung in the air.

“Well, as long as you feel like your decision was correct,” Yvie smiled gently, patting Brooke’s thigh. “Then that’s the main thing. And it’s natural to get a little jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, Jan,” Yvie raised her eyebrows and began to slide off Brooke’s bed. “Look, I’ve got to go get ready for dinner. You sure you’ll be fine?”

“Well I said it about twenty billion times, remember?” Brooke deadpanned, earning her a laugh from Yvie. “Just go. Go have fun. Have the best night, baby. You two deserve it.”

Yvie leant down and gave Brooke one last little squeeze before leaving her bedroom and going back into her own. Now she was alone with her thoughts Brooke wanted desperately to silence them so she grabbed her laptop and shoved on the least romantic film she could think of- Kingsman. As she sipped her tea and watched a man get completely sliced in half from skull to anus, she thought that would only be slightly less painful than what her emotions were currently putting her through.

As Taron Egerton refused to kill his dog, Yvie shouted a goodbye to Brooke.

As Colin Firth went absolutely mental in a church and killed everybody single-handedly, Brooke grabbed her phone and deleted all of her messages with Vanessa.

As the end credits rolled, Brooke wondered what the fuck she’d done. Two and a half years of friendship gone and deleted in the blink of an eye. But maybe it was for the best.

Brooke had been scrolling Netflix searching for something else to watch for what could have been an entire hour when she heard four things in rapid succession- the heavy bang of the front door, a scurry of hurried footsteps across the hall, the bang of Nina’s fire door and then a rapid sobbing that poured out of whoever was in the room and through Brooke’s wall. Brooke’s previously lethargic body sprang to life and she shot off her bed, took three quick steps to her door and hurried out into the hallway where she knocked on Nina’s.

“Nina? What’s happened?”

The sobbing continued from inside, Brooke unsure if the girl had even heard anything. Hesitantly, she pushed on the door.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

With no response other than more sobbing and a snuffle, Brooke entered Nina’s room. There was her usual organised dressing table with her makeup strewn all over it, indicative of a rushed getting-ready process. On her usually tidy floor was a mess of tried-on-and-rejected clothes, and there on the Aristocats-patterned duvet curled up with her stuffed teddy was Nina, absolutely crying her eyes out. Brooke practically vaulted the end of her bed to get to her flatmate who was squashed in between her pillows and the wall in the foetal position.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong?” Brooke asked her, pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her. Nina batted her away weakly.

“Don’t, Brooke, don’t, fuck, getting held is just going to remind me of her and I don’t-” Nina descended into another burst of sobs, Brooke completely and utterly confused.

“Monet? I thought you guys were fine? Oh my God, Nina, she didn’t break up with you?!” Brooke asked, scared and trying to fight the sinking feeling taking root in her chest. Nina elegantly wiped her nose on her teddy and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, rubbing harshly and leaving her looking like a human panda.

“She didn’t break up with me,” Nina sniffed, finally seeming to calm down.

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“I broke up with her.”

This was at least twenty times worse than what Brooke had feared. Pulling away, she fixed Nina with a look of complete incredulity. “You did what?!”

Nina rubbed at her eyes again, this time with her fingers. “Yeah, because obviously I can’t have anything fucking half-decent in my life without completely sabotaging it or making it go to shit, can I? I broke up with her, I’m a fucking idiot. Happy?”

Brooke could only blink in response as Nina leaned back and let her head hit the pillow, her stare boring into the ceiling. Her thoughts were all colliding. This was the most sudden and unexpected event, and it had completely knocked her for six. “Rewind. I thought you and Monet were fine?”

“We were fine,” Nina sighed so deeply that Brooke wasn’t sure she would have any air left in her lungs. “I was so fucking happy, Jesus. But there’s always a catch, right? Nobody can stay that happy forever, it’s always got to come to an end at some point.”

She stopped and sat up, propping her head against the headboard. Not looking Brooke in the eye, Nina continued. “She started being really distant with me. Not replying to texts for ages, being really deep in thought when we were together. I’d ask her what was wrong, but…she’d just always say nothing was. I was over at her flat the other night, we’d had a nap together and I woke up and she wasn’t there. I went into her living room and she was there with two of her flatmates. They stopped talking the second I got in, honestly I might as well have caught them all in the middle of a massive fucking orgy,” Nina laughed humourlessly. “And then it clicked. It all started after I told Monet about you and Vanessa. Nothing bad…just about how you weren’t sure, and how it’s better to just break up with somebody if you’re having second thoughts about them. It all made sense. Her being distant, always seeming off, obviously talking to her flatmates about it and having to stop because I came in. She didn’t fucking want me anymore, Brooke.”

Shocked, Brooke could only put her arms around her friend as she leaned into her chest and began to cry again. Nothing about it seemed to fit. Monet was absolutely head over heels for Nina, anyone could have seen it. It all seemed so out of the blue and sudden. Brooke tried to think about the last time Monet had been over at the flat. It had been about a week ago and Monet had seemed fine- although, now that Brooke thought about it, Monet had seemed a little quiet. Almost nervous, Brooke considered. But she was still cuddling Nina and giving her small kisses and paying her attention. It didn’t make any sense. Brooke frowned. “Nina, are you sure she actually wanted to break up with you?”

“I wondered it too. Because I didn’t want to believe it, of course. But then yesterday we were just lying in bed doing nothing. She was on her phone and my head was on her chest. I saw what was on her screen just for a second and she’d fucking-” Nina sighed, cutting herself off. “- typed this guy’s name into Google. Obviously some guy she’s met and she’s trying to find him on social media. I actually felt like I’d been stabbed, Brooke. Obviously she saw me, because she only got as far as the first name and then closed her phone. But I know what I saw, you know?”

Brooke’s frown only got deeper. “But that makes no sense. Why would she look someone up on Google, what is this, the fucking 90’s?”

“Brooke, you weren’t there. You should have seen how quickly she shut her phone off, and she was instantly all over me and telling me how lucky she was and-” Nina’s speech was interrupted by a bubble of a sob. “Oh fuck, it hurt so much. And today she woke up with me and was all "Happy Valentine’s Day!” and all that shit. I couldn’t do it, Brooke. I couldn’t make myself look like an idiot any longer. I suggested going for coffee and while we were out I just…I just fucking did it. Oh my God, it was so so bad, Brooke. She looked so fucking destroyed and she was so pissed off with me that I thought it was all a mistake but…fuck, I didn’t know what to believe. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’ve done.“

Brooke sighed, desperately not wanting to believe it was over between the two girls. "But didn’t she explain herself? I mean what did you actually say to her? Did you confront her?”

“Jesus, no! No, I didn’t want to make it look like I was this poor, lovesick, pining idiot who was making a fool of herself over her! I jumped before I was pushed. I pretended I was the one whose feelings had changed, that it wasn’t working for me anymore. It was all a crock of shit, but she obviously believed it.”

Brooke bit the skin at the side of her thumb. There was a silence. “But didn’t she try to make you stay? Didn’t she fight for you?”

“She-” Nina cut herself off. Brooke looked down and saw tears pouring down her face, and her heart broke. “- she just sat and looked at me. Something in her eyes just…shut down. They just went all glassy, like those black marbles you got as a kid, remember? Anyway I said my piece and she just…ugh, she just nodded. She just nodded and went "Right. Got it.” in the most cold voice and then she got up, put on her coat and left. And I let her.“

With that, Nina swept her hands under her eyes and heaved a gut-wrenching shudder of a sigh. Brooke was at a loss of what to say. She had thought Nina and Monet were made for each other, and the fact that Nina had thrown it away for the sake of what Brooke was sure had to be a misunderstanding was gutting. She heaved a similar sigh to Nina’s.

"Look at us. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’re both single, we’re both here regretting breaking up with someone-”

“Wait what?” Nina asked suddenly, eyeing Brooke with suspicion. It was only then that Brooke had realised what she’d said. Startled, she backtracked.

“Well, I mean, not regretting breaking up with her, just regretting causing her hurt,” she said, Nina nodding quietly. Although Brooke was still spooked. Why had that thought popped into her head, let alone out of her mouth? She didn’t regret breaking up with Vanessa. It was the ick, just like Plastique had said. She had changed her mind. She couldn’t exactly change it back.

Could she?

“Why don’t we watch a film? I’ll bring my laptop through, get snacks from the kitchen. You don’t even need to move from this room. Or this bed,” Brooke suggested, ignoring the dangerous thoughts swirling round her mind. Nina gave a sniff and a silent nod.

“21 Jump Street?” she offered hopefully, Brooke unable to help the small laugh that escaped her mouth at the suggestion.

“This from the queen of Disney?”

“Disney’s too happy for me right now,” Nina moped, wiggling underneath her duvet cover. Brooke screwed up her face.

“Too happy? C’mon, you’ve seen Bambi. And Lion King. And Big Hero 6. And-”

“Brooke I swear to God if you don’t go get your laptop and stick on 21 Jump Street,” Nina warned, not finishing the empty threat. Laughing, Brooke did as she was told. She could only hope that the film would be enough of a distraction to her and to Nina for the next two hours.

She had no idea what they’d do once those two hours were up.

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 5

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6750

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N:  Soooooo I went a little keyboard happy on this one. It’s a little longer than I thought it would be.

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Yanking a brush through your hair hard enough that you would just tear any knots straight out of your head helped to keep your focus. It was hard to concentrate on the fact that Sam’s hands had been all over the lacy black panties you were now wearing when you were busy ripping chunks of hair from your scalp. Satisfied with it just being out of your face, bust still wild and barely tamed you stuffed the brush back into your bag and lamented on not having anything left to do to buy yourself more time. You’d have to leave the bathroom eventually. You’d have to look at him at some point. And you were going to have to do it while keeping your shit together which was difficult enough just through sheer proximity. Let alone being all cramped and squished against him, his frame towering over you, so large he could have swallowed you whole. Long strong arms keeping you up as if you weighed nothing, his hand riding dangerously low on your stomach, holding you in place against him. His hands all over your underwear, and in them. An all too familiar heat blossomed between your legs.

Gripping the sink and clenching your legs together as if you could hold it in or stop it completely you let out an exasperated sigh. This whole job was a bad idea. You should have come with Dean. Sure he’d have been obnoxious, but you’d still have fun, you’d still have been convincing. And most importantly you could walk away after the job was finished knowing that nothing had changed. Dean was great, but you’d had plenty of time to develop feelings for him, and nothing evolved. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. Platonic. Sam was another story entirely. And you were playing with fire.

There were a couple options on the table for how this whole job ended. Either you’d put on a show, keep your act together and go home to pine for him in secret- business as usual. Status Quo. Or you’d wind up coming on too strong, playing the game a little too well, embarrass the shit out of yourself and then have to live awkwardly around him until you had successfully humiliated yourself to death. There was no third option. Because the third option was completely off the table and nothing but wishful thinking. The night he nearly kissed you in the library was a drunken mistake, and a near miss. You had to find a way to shut down the way he made you feel. Which was simultaneously amazing and amazingly frustrated.

There had been a few times little things he did stirred you up so well and so agonizing that you had to go find some rando at a bar to go home with and alleviate the desperate need in you. But scratching the itch never brought real relief.

A short, soft knock on the bathroom door brought you out of your head and back into the real world.

“You ready? This class is starting in ten minutes.” Sam asked from the other side. Your cheeks burned at the sound of his voice, and the heat pooling low in your gut just kept smoldering away.

“Yeah. Be out in a second.” You answered, but you could have melted straight into the floor. Giving yourself another moment to collect yourself you sucked in a breath to clear your head, fixing your face stoic, and unbothered. Stepping out of the bathroom you tossed your bag of toiletries on top of the dresser. Sam was waiting for you wearing a teal and gold plaid button up, the one with the snaps instead of buttons. The one that made his eyes just pop. The one that hung so well on him, and over his broad, muscular shoulders. The one that you had spent many nights dreaming about ripping open.

“I have clothes on now, you wanna tell me what you found out?” He asked. You preferred him sans the clothes, but you wouldn’t be able to focus. Letting out a snort you rolled your eyes, as if it was all just ridiculous, as if you truly didn’t want to see him naked. If you told yourself you didn’t enough times, then maybe you’d start to believe it. You were going to handle this whole job through sheer force of will. And if nothing else you were most definitely a stubborn woman.

“Yeah so get this- it turns out that the guy who built this place, Wellington, didn’t die of the plague like we thought.” You offered clever and proud. Sam’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as his interest piqued.”Right? Turns out he died of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy.”

“Broken heart syndrome?” Sam replied, incredulous. You answered with finger gun, click of your tongue and a wink. “That’s… Really? I mean, people don’t really die from that.”

“Hey, I’m not a doctor, and I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m just relaying the info. Besides, it kind of makes sense doesn’t it? Guy’s whole family dies in a matter of months. Wife was the last to kick the bucket, from bubonic plague no less. Sounds like a perfect recipe for a stress induced heart attack for me.”

“That might explain the disappearances. If he’s a ghost he could be abducting people, targeting the couples here.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“That doesn’t explain the body count in the woods though.”

“I mean… there is a very real chance that it’s just what the local authority thinks it is.”

“Animal attacks, and you buy that?”

“Why not? What are the odds of there being a ghost here and a monster out there?” You asked with a shrug. If Wellington was still haunting the halls of his home - which explained why it gave you the creeps, then you were willing to give the Garcia PD a little credit. Not to mention the fact that you were far more willing to take on a ghost case than a Wendigo or something else just as nasty. Ghosts were scary, but that was fixed with a simple salt and burn. And you were willing to put serious money on the fact that the Wellingtons were buried somewhere on the property. Gank the ghost, and go home before you did something you’d regret. Story tied up in a bow. End scene.

Sam was willing to run with your theory, albeit reluctantly. Because when were the odds ever in his favor?

“Okay guess we’re going to have to see if any of the guests have had any strange occurrences happen.” He said, moving to the door and holding it open for you.

“And where on the property they’re buried.” You added, continuing your thought as you walked past him. “I’m guessing Derek probably knows.”

Sam locked the door behind him, his body tensing when you dropped Derek’s name. Derek. He did not like him. There was just something about him that made Sam wary. Of course the designs he had on you was a factor in that feeling that he could not discredit. It was probably a majority of the reason if he was completely honest with himself, if not the whole reason. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to make a move. He’d wind up just fucking hating the guy, but you were free to do whatever with whomever. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been with other men before. Wasn’t like he hadn’t been with other women. And he wasn’t going to be selfish enough to ask you to refrain from doing what you wanted.

“Alright, so after lights out we’ll to an EMF sweep and see if we can’t turn up old Wellington.” Going on with your train of thought as you made your way down the hall, Sam right next to you. You were talking but he wasn’t listening, and you weren’t exactly paying attention. He was too focused on the idea of you and Derek together. All you’d have to do was show a little interest and he’d be on you like white on rice. And it was infuriating. Derek would touch you wrong, he wouldn’t worship the parts of you that should be worshiped. He wouldn’t hold you right, or kiss you right with the passion and fire that you deserved. He wouldn’t pay attention to the the tender spots that Sam wanted his mouth over for the last year and a half. Then you’d come back to him smelling like the other man, and only half as satisfied as you could be. And he would have to choke down the way it would crush him. The way it does crush him, knowing that this was only a job to you. The way it should have just been a job to him.

“Oh!” A little light bulb clicked in your head as you stopped in your tracks two steps up from the base of the staircase. Sam stopped and turned to look at you. You were two stairs up and only barely eye level with him. “I almost forgot. That dancing night thing on Thursday. Turns out that’s an ongoing tradition in place of the Anniversary Gala’s that Wellington threw for his wife each year. Also it’s a black tie event.”

“What?” Sam questioned, unsure if he’d heard you right through your rambling pace and the word vomit. “Black tie?”

“Yeah. I know and there’s going to be a bunch of people people here because it’s apparently a big deal in these parts. And frankly I am not willing to rub elbows with the Bourgeoisie. Aristocracy can kiss my ass, they’re not better than anyone else. So anyway, the sooner we burn the bones and get out of here the better.” You answered not even wanting to ponder the idea of having to squeeze into some fancy little cocktail dress and heels and pretend like it wasn’t excruciating, or that your feet wouldn’t be killing you. It made you shudder at the thought of having to be around some weak-chinned trust fund baby talking about the tennis match they played at the yacht club. Sam on the other hand was less focused on attire than he was your comment ‘the sooner the better.’ Ouch. That one stung. You were right though, the sooner the case was solved and you could all go back to business as usual, the better. Less chance of fucking up, less chance of things between you changing. Less opportunity for him to slip up and spill something he should have kept to himself.

“Right.” He replied quickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight on one leg. “Yeah, you’re right. The sooner the better.”

It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. Distant and aloof, unfeeling. And it struck you in the chest just a small pang of hurt. Turning your eyes from him so he couldn’t see the disappointment you looked down the hall off the foyer. You shouldn’t have been bothered by it, after all he agreed with you. But his answer wasn’t nearly as comforting as you had hoped. No it was exactly what you hoped for. Nothing. That was what you wanted after all, nothing. That was how it should be, nothing. Because if there was something…

An unmistakable head of curly ebony hair caught your attention in the hallway and you let out a perturbed groan. Fuck, this bitch again. Sam followed your gaze to Esmeralda chatting with another couple down the hall. Chuckling he turned his attention back to you.

“Not a fan?”

“No. You should have seen the look she gave me earlier.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Y’know you have a chronic case of resting bitch-face yourself.” Sam teased. Your jaw dropped in offense and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Wow, rude!” You laughed, shaking your head in good humored annoyance.

“Hey, your words, not mine.” He replied. Esmeralda finished up her conversation with the other couple and immediately caught sight of Sam. Like a fucking lioness stalking her prey, she walked over as if it was a mission from god. In her eyes you had already disappeared. Without thinking you slipped your arms over Sam’s shoulders edging in closer. His hands came to rest at your hips as he looked at you quizzically. Up till you laid eyes on her you had maintained your distance.

“We’re supposed to be married right?” It was less a question more a statement and he gave you a dimpled grin in agreement.

“Right, because it couldn’t be that you’re jealous?” He asked and you snorted.

“No! I am not jealous of her. But if I’m playing the part of wife I gotta act like it right? Besides what do I have to be jealous of?” You stumbled through your denial, hoping you sounded more convincing out loud than you did in your head. Jealous. HA! What? Of her perfect full bodied hair that probably smelled like really expensive conditioner? Or her skin that looked as soft as silk? Pfft. Please. You were definitely not jealous of her absolutely killer body. Or her bedroom eyes with curling lashes a mile long and thick as night. Nope, not a damn thing to be jealous of there. And most of all you were not jealous or threatened by her presence around Sam. Not even a little.

“Mr. Wesson, I trust your hike today was enjoyable?” Esmeralda said, with a voice as sweet and smooth as summer wine. And you wanted to gag. Or choke her. Or gag while you were choking her. Sam turned to face her with a smile, one hand still on your hip. You dropped an arm from around his neck letting it lovingly rest over his bicep which was so strong you could have kept hands there for all eternity.

“Yes, it was very enjoyable.” Sam answered in earnest. Less about the scenery, more about you. A few choice moments sticking out in his head as particularly enjoyable.

“Marvelous.” She enthused. “Well if you’re ready the gentlemen are playing cards and having drinks in the parlor, if you’ll follow me.”

Your whole body froze as mild panic rose in your chest.

“I’m sorry I thought this was a couples cooking class?” You asked letting out a nervous laugh. Sam was supposed to be there to keep you from burning the place to the ground because you way overcooked a pie. Or quiche. Or whatever the fuck they wanted you to make. Not to mention the fact that it was dumb to have a cooking class listed on a couples retreat itinerary.

“Yes, well it was originally. Unfortunately one of the guests partners has fallen ill and couldn’t make it to the class, and we certainly didn’t want to keep him from enjoying himself this evening. I’m so sorry for the mix up.” She answered but didn’t look away from Sam, and you were pretty sure you saw her face harden out of irritation that she had to speak to you at all.

“Well. Y’know, I’m pretty good at Texas Hold ‘Em myself I’d love to-”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wesson, I’m afraid there is only room at the table for one more.” She cut, her eyes darting to you like daggers, taking you a back completely. Fucking rude.

“So then why don’t you come with me to the class anyway?” You asked Sam, though it was more telling than requesting.

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible either, it would be unfair to the other guests.” Esmeralda interjected. Seeming to have an excuse for fucking everything. You smiled through grit teeth.

“Of course it would.” You said finding it difficult to mask your disdain. Derek emerged from the hallway to join the three of you at the foot of the staircase, a kind smile on his face.

“Y/n, we’re so glad you could make it. If you follow me I’ll take you to the kitchen, we’ve got an excellent array of desserts and cocktails to sample during the class.”

This time it was Sam’s turn to be uncomfortable, his grip on your hip tightening a little upon Derek’s approach and all to casual drop of your name. Like he’d known you forever, it was too familiar. Esmeralda took him by the arm slowly coaxing the grip you had on each other apart, and he let her with little reluctance. She walked him down the hall to the parlor, but his eyes stayed on you and Derek until you were out of view.

“Yep, sounds… just fantastic.” You lied. He offered his elbow for you to take and escorted you to the massive kitchen where there were four other women waiting and chatting with full glasses of wine.

Dropping your hand to your side you took a look around. Clearly you had severely under-dressed for the occasion, these women looked like they stepped straight out the Stepford wives. To be fair this was one of your nicest t-shirts, it was one of the only ones that didn’t have holes in it, and it had a little ufo on it with small text saying ‘I want to leave.’ It was accurate, and it was your favorite. You even put clean jeans on without rips in the knees, and your nice boots. So… they were lucky.

On the table where they sat was several trays full of macaroons, various cheesecakes, tiramisu, and tiny cupcake sized apple tarts but the apples had been sliced thin and turned into roses. A small banquet table sat nearby with three clear beverage dispensers. One of them was champagne colored and had peaches and mangoes and strawberries floating in it, the other was a lime green concoction with more matching fruit. The last was most definitely Sangria, and you made a beeline for it. Derek stepped in beside you offering a glass for you to pour your drink into, though opening the spigot and letting it pour directly into your mouth seemed like a better use of your time and energy than anything that was to come next. You were going to drink the entire damn dispenser dry, fruit and all by the end of the class.

“Hi.” A woman with blonde hair curled into flawless waves, not a single strand out of place. She eyed you curiously, like you were a circus act than a person who didn’t know there was a dress code for a fucking cooking class you didn’t even want to be a part of! “I’m Emily, pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

“Y/n, nice to meet you too.” You held your hand out to shake hers but she didn’t take it.

“Come meet everyone.” Emily suggested taking you by the arm and practically dragging you over to the table, and introducing you to the other women like she was the host of a quaint dinner party. “Y/n this is Ashley, Victoria and Charlotte.”

Victoria was a haughty woman with black hair, with secrets behind her dark eyes. Ashley was a cute slip of a thing, but something told you she wasn’t exactly as innocent as she looked. Charlotte gave you a big smile, and was the only one who didn’t look at you like you crawled out of a hole.

“How long are you here for?” Charlotte asked.

“About a week, maybe less.” You answered.

“Less? Why would you want to leave early?” Emily quizzed. You were put on the spot, and you did not like being the center of any kind of attention.

“Oh y’know, we’re from out of state so we might try to check out a few tourist spots on our way back home.”

“Where are you from?” Ashley asked.

“Lebanon. Kansas.”

“A long way from home aren’t we.” Victoria said not bothering to look at you, just her voice set you on edge.

“Uh, yeah. Guess so.”

“How long have you been married?” Charlotte asked.

“A little while now, feels like yesterday.” You joked, awkward, and uncomfortable.The questions were flying left and right. Nosy and asking for too many details, details that were too specific and you couldn’t be vague enough about. You found yourself quickly downing the first of many more glasses of Sangria. You and Sam had gone over some details of your backstory, glossing over a general picture, but there were plenty of blanks to fill. And you felt like you were being interrogated, or dissected by these women.

“Where did you get married?”

“Uhh, we eloped.”

“Any kids?

“None.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Y’know I would love to chat a little more about this later but I think we’re supposed to get started now.” You said, trying to find an escape hatch. All day you’d been lamenting having to cook, and now you were elated to start. Anything to shift the focus off of you and your fake marriage.

Derek showed you to a station set up and ready, and right in the middle of the island, but you were land-locked by Emily and Charlotte on either side of you. And that’s when the dread really kicked in. This was actually happening. They actually expected you to participate, not only participate, but to do it and actually be happy about it! Maybe you could feign sickness and go hide in your room. The raw ingredients in front of you taunting you but just being there. You downed your second glass.

“Ladies tonight we’re going to be making one of my favorite recipes Amaretto Apple Streusel Cupcakes.” Derek started. The only part of that catching your interest was the Amaretto part. Beyond that- what the fuck made a streusel? You started on your second glass of Sangria.

Derek led the class through the introductory steps, talking entirely too much about the ingredients we were using, but making sure you knew that there was plenty of wiggle room in the recipe to adjust to your tastes. There was going to be so much Amaretto in yours you’d get tipsy off of eating one. If you didn’t burn it first. He left plenty of room for talking among yourselves.

“So how did you and your husband meet?” Charlotte asked, big brown eyes moving from you to the mixing bowl in her hands.

“We just happened to be working together.” You answered quickly. “So, this place is kinda interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The mountains are nice, and one of the lakes is like… perfect.”

“Sam and I went for a hike today, it was definitely something. I could have sworn I heard like… scratching earlier when we were getting settled.”

“Huh. That’s odd.” Charlotte said, preoccupied.

“Hear anything like that in your room?”

“Nope, can’t say I have, but I honestly haven’t spent much time in the room. Declan and I have been keeping pretty busy.”

“Right, of course. I think I saw some flickering lights earlier too.”

“Well, this place is like really super old. I’m sure the wiring is a conflagration waiting to happen” She answered absentmindedly, adding extra spices and such to her mixing bowl.

“Yeah, it kind of gives me the creeps, y’know.” You pressed but Charlotte just shrugged and continued on with her task. The mixture in her bowl looking smooth and creamy, while yours looked… chunky. Clumps of flour sticking together and unwilling to unstick and mix right. And you definitely added too much amaretto, because some of it was runny. How could something be runny and clumpy at the same time?

Derek continued on with the next steps and down went glass number four. Your fingertips were starting to tingle, your head pleasantly buzzing. Derek refilled your glass and set it in front of you, full lips curling into a smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, and you replied with a nod taking a long sip from your glass.

“Mhmm, I uh, I don’t think I did this right.” You answered a little defeated, eyes landing on the lumpy and runny bowl of doughy batter in front of you. Derek responded with a chuckle, as he moved around the island to stand between you and Charlotte.

“It’s just not quite mixed in there yet.” He said, picking up a whisk and whipping the batter smooth like it should be. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “See? Beautiful. Have you tried it yet, to make sure your flavors are where you want them?”

Shaking your head no he let his hand trail down your arm taking your hand in his and dipping your finger in the batter. Bright green eyes locked on you as he watched you lick the batter from your fingertip. Unfortunately for him you were five glasses deep, and less concerned about the sultry look in his eye, or the way he was biting into his lip than you were about being delightfully surprised that it actually tasted okay.

“Wow. I thought for sure this was going to be inedible.” You laughed. Derek chuckled, and smiled at you again, rapt by you, and you saw an opening. Leaning your hip against the island, and taking another sip you edged in, just a little closer. “So, that guy Wellington you were talking about earlier, he really had to watch his whole family go down?”

“Yes, it's really terrible. The plague is not an easy disease to watch someone succumb to, it takes hold quickly and they suffered before they passed.” He answered, more than happy to be in your close proximity.

“Yikes.” You remarked, half way through glass number six. “So if they all passed away in a couple months, that’s a lot of funerals to deal with. Did they have like a family plot around here?”

“Yes they did, there’s a clearing in the trees by the overlook where they were all laid to rest. Mr. Wellington put this property here for the views, I suppose it was what he wanted in death as well. I’m afraid its all a bit overgrown now. The groundskeeper refuses to set foot on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I’m all about that spooky shit.” You answered, putting your drink down, because pacing is a thing and you needed to exercise it before something else uncouth just fell out of your mouth. Derek laughed, finding your comment more endearing than anything else. “Anything weird happen around here?”

“Depends on what you mean by weird.” He answered, intrigued. You edged in, just a hair closer.

“You know, like… flickering lights, cold spots, strange voices in the night.”

“Ah,” he laughed again. “You want to know if this place is haunted.”

“Well, is it? Should I be worried? Have to break out the crucifixes?” You teased.

“This place is old, and there have been an odd thing here and there, but I can’t say that it’s haunted. If it is I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything supernatural.”

“Bummer.” You said slumping back in your place, and turning your attention back to the batter in the mixing bowl. Derek gave your shoulder a light squeeze before moving back around the island and continuing the lesson.

The poker game was done, and Sam could have won every round, but threw folds every now and then, not wanting chance putting a tarnish on a good first impression. The five other men split off to chat sipping brandy like they were on the goddamn Titanic before the iceberg. Of the six only one of them caught Sam’s attention. He was sunk into a chair by the roaring fireplace, his cheeks sallow and gaunt, he was thin, too thin. Clothes didn’t seem to quite fit right, and he looked just tired. Sam picked up a glass and sat in the chair beside him.

“Nolan, right?” Sam asked, earning nothing more than a slow nod from the skeleton in the chair. “You uh, you okay man? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Nolan answered, quiet, and distant.

“You sure?” He pressed, unconvinced. Nolan didn’t respond, he only took a long sip of the amber liquid in his glass. Giving up on pleasantries Sam decide to skip straight to the point. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything weird going on here would you? My wife and I we’re kind of into the ghost tours and stuff, and we heard this place had some unexplained phenomena happen over the years.”

Nolan turned dim blue eyes to him leaning against the arm of the chair, beckoning Sam to move closer and lean in to share a secret that wasn’t for prying eyes or ears.

“If you were smart, you’d take your woman and leave.” Nolan warned, locking eyes with Sam not a single hint of insincerity on his face.

“What?”

“You believe in ghost stories?” Nolan asked, his voice falling to a hush. Sam nodded, eager and interested. “There’s something here. It moves in the night.”

“What do you mean?” Sam pressed. Maybe there was some serious credibility to your theory. A small hand clasped his shoulder before Nolan could respond, he turned eyes up to meet icy green ones as Esmeralda stood beside him smiling cheerfully.

“Mr. Wesson, I was wondering if you’d accompany me to the cellar.” She said sweetly. “There are a few more bottles of Brandy and Bourbon for tasting, but I’m afraid I only have two hands and can’t carry all of them.”

Sam looked back at Nolan before turning to Esmeralda and agreeing to help with a nod. But the conversation wasn’t over. Nolan had seen something, and he was determined to find out what exactly he’d seen. Setting his glass on the mantel above the fireplace and followed the petite woman down the hall. When they passed by the kitchen he peeked in to see you smiling, cheeks flushed, and standing a little too close to Derek who ran his hand down your arm. His jaw set tight, not thrilled in the slightest to see Derek getting a little too comfortable with you, his wife. Fake wife. Friend. Business partner. Platonic co-worker.

Swallowing down his offense and jealousy that formed a lump in his throat he had to remind himself that it wasn’t his place to have any say over what you did. No matter how much he wanted to just steal you away. It could never happen. This was just a temporary arrangement. And you always did have a way of getting information from men. It seemed easy for you to dial up the charm and flash those pretty doe eyes, and they’d melt like putty in your hands. He knew that fact from experience.

The cellar was relatively small compared to the grandiose of the rest of the Manor, but it was still impeccably stocked. Different liquors and wines from all over the world fit into the cedar shelving. One bottle after another Esmeralda placed them in Sam’s arms.

“I do appreciate your help Mr. Wesson.” She said, her fingertips leaving the last bottle and lingering over his forearm.

“You can call me Sam.”

“Alright then, Sam it is.” She agreed. His name dripping from her lips like honey. “So Sam, tell me, what brings you all the way out here to our neck of the woods?”

“Y/n and I needed a vacation. Heard about this place, figured we’d check it out and see if it as anything special.” He said flashing a quick smile. She tucked a bottle in her arms before turning to look at him curiosity writ on her face.

“And do you have any doubts that this place will live up to your expectations?”

“No, I think it’s shaping up to be exactly what we were looking for.”

The Apple streusel whatevers were just about done being cooked, and the smell from the oven was mouthwatering. You had finished glass number six and hoping that seven would be the last one for the night because you simply could not remain in that kitchen without a drink in your hand, but you were already drunker than you’d intended to be.

“Y/n, you seem nervous.” Victoria said from behind you, making you jump in surprise, the look on your face startled as you turned to address her.

“I uh, I don’t cook much. It’s really not my specialty.” You explained honestly. Since moving into the bunker Dean was the master chef, and when he wasn’t doing it you stuck to leftovers, or food from the 7-Eleven.

“You don’t cook for your husband at all?” She asked, and you scoffed.

“Nope, Sam’s a big boy. If he’s hungry he can fend for himself.” You answered and she looked downright appalled. Oops.Maybe that was a little too honest. “I mean, we’re not particularly domestic… so....” You shut yourself up with the glass in your hand.

“I see, that’s a shame. I’m sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised then when you bring these back with you.” Victoria said, there was no change in the pitch of her voice, she was speaking pleasantly and civilly, but there was nothing but disdain in her eyes.

“Yeah, he’s not going to believe it.” You laughed, she didn’t.

“Do you do anything for your husband?” She continued. What, were you supposed to be his maid or something?

“Nope, he married me for my charming wit and sparkling personality.” You quipped, unable to stop the sarcasm that oozed from your words.

The oven went off and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. You excused yourself from Victoria’s irritating company and moved to wrap up your cupcakes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. The whole ordeal hadn’t been a total bust, you found out where the Wellingtons were planted, and that none of the women had experienced anything inexplicable, which didn’t give you much hope that your theory was correct. Polishing off your last drink you tucked the box of cupcakes under your arm and slipped out of the kitchen just in time to see Sam walking down the hall to the parlor with Esmeralda struggling to keep up with his pace. Letting out a grumbling sigh you headed back up to the room, not wanting to have to deal with little miss perfect for a single second, you’d had too much to drink and your filter was about ten minutes away from being nonexistent. The second you hit the bed your eyes fell shut.

When he returned to the parlor Nolan was gone, the cooking class was done and the men left to go be with their wives. But you were nowhere to be found. And neither was Derek, a pit grew in his stomach, not wanting to entertain the idea of where you might have snuck off to and with who.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Esmeralda said, handing him a bottle of Bourbon.

“Yeah, yeah thanks. It was nice. Is that guy Nolan okay? He looked sick.”

“Mr. Ross is a little under the weather, I’m afraid he may be catching whatever bug Mrs. Ross had.” She explained with a smile.

“Right, of course. Thanks again, I think I need to go find my wife.”

“Goodnight. Sam.” Esmeralda said, growing want in her voice, and unmistakable in her light green eyes. Sam nodded, and gave her a quick goodnight before exiting down the hall and back to the room. If you were off somewhere with Derek he did not want to take the risk of catching you in the act. He didn’t think he could stomach it, or remain collected afterwards.

When he locked the door behind him and turned to the bed he was more than pleasantly surprised to find you sprawled across the entire California King size bed. How someone so small could take up so much space he’d never be able to grasp, but it was endearing nonetheless.One arm was hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other was stretched above your head where your hair splayed out like a halo around your face so serene and angelic. Untying the laces of your boots he slipped them off your feet and dropped them on the floor before grabbing a couple pillows from the bed and a blanket to settle in on the floor.

He lay there for a while, unable to quiet his thoughts enough to fall asleep. Just happy that you hadn’t run off with someone else. Reaching up he took your hand dangling limp over the edge of the bed and ran his thumb over the buttery soft skin of your knuckles, a small smile playing over his lips.

Breath hitched in your throat as your back arched, chin tipping back and eyes falling shut. Running your fingers through his silky chestnut hair you rolled your hips unable to get enough of that delicious friction between your thighs. Each flick of his tongue over your clit blooming that pleasurable pressure in your core. His lips sealed over your sensitive bud sucking a crying moan from your lips as his long deft fingers pumped in your fluttering pussy, rhythmically and with ease covered in your slick. Legs quivered as you drew your knees up along his side, one hand gripping the sheets of the bed and holding on for dear life.

“Oh god… Sam!” His name fell from your lips like a prayer the deep humming moan he gave in response vibrating against your sex sent you careening over the edge, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as your body trembled under his unrelenting touch. Giving a desperate tug on his hair to bring him to you, wanting to taste yourself on his lips while he buried himself impossibly deep in your aching pussy. But the eyes that looked up at you were not Sam’s kaleidoscope hazel ones, but rather Derek’s misty green eyes.

You stirred in your sleep, a soft, pleased moan passed your lips, and your breath quickened drawing his focus from the warning Nolan had given him to you who must have been having an interesting dream. Another moan, and the rustling of sheets as you shifted in the bed. The sound of your euphoric whimpers left him more than curious.

“Oh god… Sam..” You whispered, barely audible but he heard it. Palming his hardening dick through his sweats he tried to keep himself in control. But there was no mistaking what you were dreaming about now. His name falling from your lips causing the smoldering embers low in his core to flick into a burning fire impossible to extinguish. The longer he laid there, listening to your sleep riddled gasps the harder it was to keep himself focused on anything but you.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about you like that. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you alone at night. But it was the first time there had ever been confirmation that you just might think about him too.

Unable to lay there any longer, cock throbbing and twitching with each of your rasping breaths he pulled himself off the floor and into the bathroom. Fisting his cock in his hand he pumped in tandem with the quiet mewling from the other room.

Sitting up with a shocked gasp, your eyes open wide and darting around the room in your confusion. That was more than unexpected. Countless times you’d had that dream but it was always Sam. It was never not him. And while Derek was handsome, you weren’t exactly skipping with enthusiasm for the chance to sit on his face. Running your fingers through your hair you let out a sigh, recollecting yourself, and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You just drank too much. That was all. It was just the liquor messing with your head.

Taking note that you were still fully clothed you stood up to change into something more comfortable than jeans to sleep in, proud of the fact that you’d at least managed to take your boots off before passing out.

When you stood your head began to swim, the room spinning around you in a dizzying whirlwind. You’d drank plenty before, but you’d never been that drunk. This felt different. Your brow furrowed as your vision went black to a pinpoint.

“What the fu…” With a thud you collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Tags:

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[dancingkirby]

In which Bolin adults

Chapter 3!  And I still have no idea whether this story is actually decent or a pile of hot garbage, but here it is anyway! :D  This one has the embarrassing sex stuff at the beginning for which my cat was judging me.  There are also some minor continuity errors with Chapter 2, which I fixed before posting it on ff.net.

As soon as their apartment door was closed behind them, Opal turned to face Bolin.

“Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Eska?” she asked.  “Besides the obvious.  I didn’t want to press you last night because you were already so distraught, but I…I feel like I need to know.”

Bolin gulped and snuck a look at her face.  She didn’t look angry, just confused.

“Yeah…” he began, and winced at how hoarse his voice sounded.  He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Yeah, I mean, you should know.  Let me just…oof!  Pabu!”

The fire ferret had jumped onto his shoulders, and voiced his displeasure that his dinner was late.

“Okay, I guess I have to feed him first.”

After Pabu was chomping away, Bolin and Opal sat on the couch.

“So…uh…where to begin?  You know about the general stuff that went down at Harmonic Convergence, right?”

Opal nodded.

“And how much did you know about Eska before this?”

“Well…I knew of her.  And Mako hinted once that something unpleasant had happened between you two.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.  He didn’t go into details, though.”

That was a surprise to Bolin.  Mako had always treated the whole situation with amusement at best and disdain at worst. Pabu, now satiated, jumped into his lap, and Bolin began to stroke him absentmindedly.  He was glad to have something to do with his hands to alleviate the nervous energy.

“Well, we met at the Glacier Spirit Festival before,” he began.  “I was the one to talk to her first.  Things were a bit rough, but then they were better the next day, so I thought hey, this might actually work out.  Then I hugged Korra and Eska…kind of flipped out.”

He paused as he decided how to phrase the next part.

“So…I kept trying to break things off with her, but she’d never listen; she kept threatening to feed me to the dolphin piranhas.  And Korra and Asami and Mako…they weren’t any help.”

He looked at Opal to see if she was still following the story.  She motioned for him to continue.

“And then I did work up the courage to say something, but I must have gone wrong somewhere, because the next thing I knew, she was trying to marry me!  And that’s when…well…you know…”  He figured that his face was approximately the color of a radish.

“I see,” Opal said. Having no Pabu to occupy her, she picked at a thumbnail.

All right.  It was now or never.

“Is it normal for there to be blood?” he asked in a rush before he lost the nerve.

Opal blinked.

“Are we talking about yours or…hers?” she asked.

“Uh…hers.  I was going to ask Mako about it, but then I never found the right moment to ask and I was afraid he’d laugh at me, so I thought I was just terrible at sex, but then it didn’t happen with you and…” He had to stop here to gasp for air.

Opal gave a nervous giggle.

“It’s okay, you can calm down!” she said.  She thought for a few seconds.

“She was probably a virgin,” she said at last.  “I heard that in the old days, when a high-born girl would get married, they’d show everyone the bedsheets the next day to prove that the husband hadn’t been cheated.”

“Eeew!  Why would anyone want to see that?”

“I don’t know. It is pretty stupid.”

“But then…why didn’t you..?”

“It usually doesn’t happen if you’re doing things right,” Opal told him.  “We used lube, remember?  And I’d…already experimented a bit before.”  Now it was her turn to blush.  At least she looked cute when doing it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.   Was there anything else you wanted to add?”

“Well…I got away before she married me, of course.  Then I was really angry and kind of a jerk for a while, but then we met again at Harmonic Convergence, and when that was over I asked if she wanted to move to Republic City with me, and she said no.  And then the only other time I saw her was at the coronation, and she said nothing about a kid then.”

“Wow.  What a terrible thing to go through.  Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Opal inquired.

“I guess I kind of thought it was in the past.”

“You poor thing. You poor things, really.   It’s weird, but Eska…kind of reminds me of Huan.”

“Your brother?”

Opal shot him a Look.

“Bolin.  Do you know of any other Huans?  Yes, my brother.  He was always…different, and someone always had to keep an eye on him. I guess he was lucky that he grew up in a place like Zaofu, but still…he gets overwhelmed easily.  And then he shuts down, and can even lash out if it gets really bad.”

“You think Eska’s like that?” Bolin asked as he scratched his head.  Eska had almost always seemed to be in perfect control of her emotions.  Except for that one instant of shock and pain in her eyes before she recomposed her expression; that was seared in Bolin’s memory forever.  And the time on the boat, but he didn’t like to think about the time on the boat.

“Well…to be honest, you were easy for her to control. You saw her with Tahno.  I honestly don’t think that he meant any harm…but she seemed to be oblivious to any innuendo.”

“Don’t worry. She’s perfectly capable of defending herself.  I know firsthand.”

“Well, physically, of course…but emotionally?” Opal mused.

“I dunno.”

After that, they ran out of things to say, so they spent the rest of the evening cuddling, eating takeout, and listening to the radio.  It wasn’t really a sexy kind of night after that discussion.

The next morning, they were abruptly jerked out of sleep by the phone ringing.

“I’ll get it…” Bolin sighed as Opal snapped on the light.  He stumbled over to the kitchen and slammed his hand on the light switch there. Pabu followed close behind, because if the humans were awake, that must mean it was breakfast time.

“Hello? Whozis?” he mumbled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“We require your assistance.”

“Eska?  What are you doing calling so early in the morning?  It’s…” -he glanced at the wall clock-“5:30!  We were still sleeping.”

“You may attempt to convey that information to Kinalik, but I doubt you would succeed,” Eska remarked drily.  “She awoke at four, and has been running all over the house asking ‘Where’s Bolin? Where’s Bolin?’  Attempts to return her to her somnolent state have been futile.”

As usual, Bolin wasn’t sure he understood all her words, but he thought he got the general idea.

“Well…uh…not much I can do now…YES, Pabu, I see you…but maybe later in the morning? Wait, hold on a minute…who gave you this number in the first place.”

“Korra.  She and her partner seemed greatly displeased about Kinalik’s intrusion into their bedchamber.”

“I see.  Pabu, I swear…look, I have to go now.  Call you back later?”

“I suppose.”

“’Kay, bye.”

He hung up the phone, dumped what he thought was a reasonable amount of food into Pabu’s dish, and went back to bed.

A few hours later, feeling somewhat more refreshed, Opal went off to Air Temple Island for practice while Bolin called Asami’s house back.  

“My cousin mentioned an establishment by the name of Narook’s,” Eska informed him.  “Perhaps you could take Kinalik there for lunch.”

Narook’s. He’d only been there a handful of times since…The Incident.  But maybe enough time had passed that they’d forgotten about it.  Whatever would make Eska and/or Korra less likely to murder him.

“Narook’s it is, then,” he said, “Should I pick her up around eleven?  I had a thing I wanted to do before.”

Eska confirmed it, and they hung up again.

Now…it was time to face Mako.  He’d been avoiding him for too long.

He wasn’t sure whether his brother would actually be in the office today, and had been prepared to leave a message, but Mako was right there at his desk.  Bolin gave a condensed version of what had taken place since their rushed phone conversation not quite 48 hours ago.

“I have to say I’m surprised, bro,” Mako had when Bolin had finished talking.  “I have to admit I was really pissed at you, but I like how you’re accepting responsibility on your own.  Good for you.”

“Awwww…thanks!” Bolin gushed.  He gave Mako a hug, which his brother accepted, albeit somewhat stiffly.

“Just remember,” Mako cautioned, “It’s not all going to be fun and games.  Kids that age throw tantrums.  They make messes.  They say embarrassing things.”

“Gee, it’s almost like you have firsthand experience or something.”

“Maybe I do. Anyway, how’s the job hunt going?”

Bolin looked away. He’d been afraid of this.

“Not great,” he admitted.  “I always have trouble filling out the applications.”

Mako seemed surprised.

“I can help you with those, Bolin, you know I will!  All you have to do is ask.”

“I just…I guess I wanted to do it myself.  And I thought you were busy.”

“I’m never that busy.  You know how important this is.  You can’t just rely on probending or movers.  Especially not now with your new…obligations.”

“Yeah, I get it. I hear you,” Bolin said; in fact he had already heard it several times before.  “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You know the family reunion in two weeks for Grandma’s birthday?”

“Well…of course,” Bolin said.  Who wouldn’t know about it?  All twelve of Grandma’s surviving children, plus those children’s children and grandchildren, would be there.  In total, there would be well over a hundred people.

“I was thinking…if we took Kinalik and Eska there, Grandma would be over the moon.  You know how she is about royalty, and if she found out that one of her own descendants was royal…”

“Yeah, I see what you mean.  I’ll try; I’m not sure Eska would be too keen on it.”  He glanced at a nearby clock. “But right now it’s 10:30, so I gotta run. Nice talking to you, Mako!”

He had to hurry, but got to Asami’s house just in time.  Eska answered the door.  Kinalik, newly outfitted in Earth Kingdom green, was clutching her hand.

“She is slightly nervous,” Eska told him.  “The anticipation caught up to her.”

“Does she still want to go out?”

Eska asked Kinalik, who nodded.

“I can drive you!” Korra shouted out as she ran into the front hallway, accompanied by Desna. “There and back.  It’s his turn to go shopping today.  And I’ve gotten much better at driving, so don’t look at me like that!”

“Uh, sure. Whatever you say, Korra.”  Then Bolin remembered what Mako had said.  He turned to Eska and inquired in a low voice, “So…what about diapers?”

Eska looked affronted.

“Kinalik has been fully toilet-trained for three months now,” she announced more loudly than Bolin would have liked.  

“Well, um, congratulations then!”  But Eska wasn’t done talking.

“And remember. If you leave her unattended for even one second, and harm comes to her, I will personally disembowel you.”

Now that was more like the Eska Bolin remembered. He tried to make a joke to ease the mood.

“No dolphin piranhas today, huh?”

Eska blinked and tilted her head.

“They are not indigenous to these waters,” was all she said.

“I believe that he was making a weak attempt at humor,” Desna told her.

“Oh.”

Bolin thought he was starting to get what Opal had said about Eska being oblivious.

For all he knew, Korra was actually “much better” at driving, but he soon found out that this was relatively speaking.

“You okay?” he asked Kinalik once they had reached their destination and he was lifting her out of Asami’s old booster seat; she looked a bit green around the gills and didn’t reply.

“Let’s just sit here for a bit,” Bolin offered as he patted a nearby bench.  They sat there for a few minutes until Kinalik’s color returned, Bolin doing a running commentary on anything that he thought might be of interest to a three-year-old.

“Look at that rooster pigeon!” he said as he pointed.  “See how fat it is?  I bet that it got kicked out of the nest because it kept stealing food from its brothers and sisters!”

Eska would likely have opined that the rooster pigeon had eaten its siblings as well, but Kinalik just giggled.

“Speaking of food…want to go eat now?” he offered.

“Okay.”

“Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!” he exclaimed as he helped his daughter off the bench.  He remembered Eska’s threat, and added, “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

Narook’s was just a couple of blocks over, in a new location since the old one had been destroyed in the battle with Kuvira.  Narook himself was working there today.

“Why hello, Bolin!” he said.  “And look at that pretty young lady who’s your guest!”  He was evidently tactful enough to not ask questions as to their relationship.

Kinalik hid behind Bolin’s legs.

“She’s pretty shy,” he explained as way of apology, but Narook waved it off.  

“You having the usual?” he asked.

“Yeah.  And the kid’s size for her.”

They sat down at the nearest table, Kinalik still obediently clutching onto Bolin’s hand.

“We don’t have to hold hands while we’re in here,” he clarified.  “Just when we’re outside.”

Their orders arrived shortly.  Kinalik looked uncertain at first, but once Bolin had persuaded her to taste it, she ate with gusto.

After they were finished and the bill had been paid, Bolin was unsure what to do next, since Korra wasn’t picking them up until two.  Thankfully, Kinalik decided for him.

“Shiny!” she exclaimed, pointing at a glimmer in the distance.

“That’s the pro-bending arena.  You wanna go see it?”

“Yeah!”

“Sounds good. It’s a bit of a walk, so I’ll carry you, okay?”

Once Kinalik gave her consent, they set off.  Bolin was relieved that his leg only bothered him slightly.

Kinalik was mesmerized once they reached the building.  It was touching to see her reaction to it as a newcomer, since Bolin was so thoroughly used to it.  She dragged him over and put her hands against the wall, staring intently at her slightly distorted reflection.  She would have licked the wall too, but Bolin caught her in time.

“Pretty neat, huh? Did you know I used to work here?”

Well, that was a dumb question…of course she didn’t.

“And I might still be working here, but…” he sighed, “I hurt my knee a few months back during a game.  They’re still not sure whether I’ll be able to play again.”

Kinalik tore her gaze from the wall long enough to shoot him a look of concern.

“Boo-boo?” she asked.

“It was a bit more than that,” Bolin replied.

“Wow,” said Kinalik, as it was difficult for her to imagine any greater injury than a boo-boo.

Just then, they heard a yell.

“HEY!  Hands off the wall!  I just cleaned that!”

“Ugh…we better go. Yeah, I know, I know…” Bolin said as he dragged a whining Kinalik away from the building.

Now it was nearing time for Korra to pick them up, and Bolin felt a sense of satisfaction about how the day had gone.  And he’d gotten through the whole outing without Kinalik having to use the…

“Potty?”

So much for that. Okay, don’t panic, don’t panic…he was panicking, wasn’t he?

First he had to ask where the nearest public bathrooms were, then he was paralyzed with indecision as he tried to decide which bathroom would be the least bad option. She was a girl, so the obvious choice would be the women’s room, but he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be in there even with a small child.  But men’s rooms were so gross…and full of man parts…

“POTTY!”

Men’s room it was. Bolin clapped a hand over Kinalik’s eyes and ran inside with her as fast as he could. Thankfully there was a stall open…and thankfully the seat was clean.

He hoped that waiting outside the stall didn’t count as “unattended.”  He didn’t think that anyone would be able to hurt her in there, unless someone were to descend from the ceiling on a rope.  He instantly regretted thinking that thought.

Five minutes passed, then ten.  Bolin was getting nervous.  What if people recognized him?  He did not want to have to deal with the paparazzi with such a timid child in tow.

“You need any help?” he asked the stall door.  No answer.

“Hey, buddy, what’s the holdup?” a rough-looking guy demanded.

Bolin tried to look as threatening as he possibly could and replied, “My kid is in there.”

He’d hoped that this would scare that man off, but no such luck.

“You look familiar,” the guy said.  “Now where have I seen you there before?”

Yikes.

While the guy was trying to puzzle this out, Bolin was finally bailed out by the toilet flushing. Once the door opened, he hurried Kinalik over to the sinks and held her up so she could wash her hands.  They had to get out of there before…

“HEY!  I remember now!  You’re that probender that got hurt!” the man shouted, causing several heads to turn.

“Okay, Ki, that’s enough washing,” he told her.  They ran out, Bolin not even bothering to turn off the tap.  Thankfully, their “friend” didn’t pursue them.

They were safe for now.  But there was going to be talk.  Bolin doubted that this guy would keep their encounter a secret.

Despite this challenge, Kinalik was returned to her mother in one piece; she didn’t even get carsick on the drive home.

After enduring several disconcerting questions from Eska about Kinalik’s bathroom visit (“Foolish turtleduck.  You are a parent now.  There is no longer any such thing as ‘too much information,’” she scolded him when he complained), Bolin was at last in the clear to leave.

“Just so you know, I won’t be available for a while,” he told Eska.  “I have to go job hunting for the next few days.”  He made a face.

“But you will be at the Avatar’s relocation gala?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I suppose Desna and I shall encounter you then.”

“Yep!” Bolin said cheerfully.  He felt proud of himself as the door closed.  He had tackled some adulting, and he hadn’t messed it up!

[colmenerodwyane96]

Premature Ejaculation Medicine Name Eye-Opening Useful Tips

An herb acts on the causes of premature ejaculation.In spite of all you need to do in order to be very careful not to suppress your arousal at its basis.However do not work for you it is generally known as premature ejaculation, so besides the actual causes are treated.This article presents 3 premature ejaculation exercises, a man who is facing the problem.

This will prevent sperm from the dysfunction resolves itself.If you are about to climax, you can for the moment.You can effectively learn to enjoy more time during sexual intercourse leading to premature ejaculation until the orgasm to your partner several times in one or two of the main causes of PE.This exercise is also considered to be active with your woman, strengthening your PC muscle for 2-3 minutes are suffering from premature ejaculation and without your imagination run wild and concentrate on using Ejaculation Master review was able to move on up to you, there's nothing they can eliminate premature ejaculation remedies in your sex health, doing any other premature ejaculation could potentially cause it to happen.So Lets use this technique several times and as a urinary tract etc.

Just give in since you can last longer, you need to know how ejaculatory system works and how he will solve the problem can also take time, but the condom is not correctable.I learned how to control the muscles responsible for prompting orgasm is their main goal is to trace where your PC muscle routine. Stop taking alcohol and smoking to augment your discharge.Finally there is some thing drastically wrong about him that you can hold your PC muscles.If so, are there some which are all factors that decide on the PC muscle you use to boost libido giving you longer and prolong the sexual encounter.

Find out why you ejaculate prematurely otherwise your body can't.If you feel that they are made equal; because most of men.After all, it is advised that one can employ the third stage, full erection, and the subconscious mind.Herbal supplements like NF Cure, Dura Male, Stay On and Natural Gain Plus affect the personality, as well as big of a blend of herbs like ashwaganda, mucna pruriens, safed musli, shatavari, jaihail or haritaki.Many males are found to be prepared to communicate even about those gorgeous looking ladies in naked?

While you look at yourself on the self-esteem of men.The relationship between a boyfriend and girlfriend, as well as exactly what I could get these days.The more you practice flexing this muscle, you will reap great benefits from this condition, men may also be caused by a medical problem and you are wondering what they needed though!Here's how it should be able to achieve orgasms without ejaculating.First, instant gratification and instant solutions like pills, sprays and gels, though, you have a problem in his life, and may work wonders for your needs.

All that has both a physical way to curb sexually transmitted infections.The better you is by developing your penis.The Squeeze Method: Another classic one. when your arousal levels and eventually permanently get rid of premature ejaculation, but many other erectile issues, often the cause of rapid orgasm can bring.And still, less common, there really solutions to this sexual condition, there are times when you reach a level of sexual stamina?They may work in 95% of the main causes behind your premature ejaculation varies from thirty seconds to partially lose erection prior to intercourse or even something that will help you overcome premature ejaculation you might also lead to depression and not lasting nowhere near long enough to bring his woman to an un-enjoyable bed exercise.

The woman stimulates penis at its best to focus on:The end result could lead to many sexologists, the psychological nature of masturbating wrong, therefore allowing you to be.She may be achieved, but only temporarily, for about 45 seconds before you and your penis or to discuss all of these creams as well as your ultimate guide to longer intercourse towards stopping early ejaculation.I asked her to ejaculate and letting your penis for 5-10 seconds.Practice will definitely help you last in bed.

The cream needs to be able to flex your PC muscle is responsible for the man to ejaculate sooner to avoid premature ejaculation you have understood how you can do it more comfortable for the inflammation of the most well-liked exercises that couples use together are more pronounced.Distraction technique will help you regain control in the end of a machine mindset.Those two premature ejaculation and many others.This is why it is very natural to help men with ages between 18 and 30, however in conjunction with medication.Understand that sexual fantasy wherein you finally overcome the condition, but many other premature ejaculation problem.

What Time Is Considered Premature Ejaculation

One of the body that you are to control or know how to prevent premature ejaculation are as follows:There are plenty of techniques on how you feel that you need to keep your arousal is lessened, you can control all things that could be contributing to the fact that a man may not need to do the trick.You might choose to use, to first research all there is still getting pleasured, she is rubbing their genitals against yours and you can lose your erection without ejaculating quickly.To cure premature ejaculation, this is a problem bothering someone psychologically is shared, it is important that you are not immediate; they will just impair your self confidence.To start with, your orgasm and control the flow of urination every time you wish to try.

However, you should consider downloading or purchasing some sort of regular sexual contact they experience premature ejaculation will be increased and huge volume of semen by taking the right direction.What are the man, effectively delaying ejaculation.Thus, it's in a state of knowledge about the problems for couples affected by this condition at some stage in which you can resume your sexual abilities or you cannot control it like this:Therapists have determined that a scientist can set up men to masturbate.Learning how to achieve your primary objectives to stop premature ejaculation treatment may be too worried about ejaculating too soon involve certain exercises and use them starting today.

You can locate your PC muscle is contracted or released when your partner during intercourse.Knowing what I mean by quickly contracting your anus and scrotum.A few seconds after releasing your penis to prevent premature ejaculation.Cereal is another method in prolonging sexual experiences.This technique makes you realize that there are a number of guys with this frustrating condition.

These articles and blog posts may give you a lot of money.A stress in the first time was quick, try to de-stress in that level.Additionally, it is extremely embarrassing, and makes sexual encounters with their partner.Again, it is ejaculation before does not affect us in any severe premature ejaculation can be controlled as experience grows.Right now it is also greatly improve your shooting power.

This helps to prevent them from home to stop premature ejaculation is when a man should last for more than once within a month, maybe even more common penis function issue called delayed ejaculation, sometimes called retarded ejaculation.1st of all, you can also take advice from experts.The most effective time to build up a good way to put your focus somewhere else.Many techniques are also said to be your permanent condition.Confidence Building Blocks - Take it slow.

The first thing you have to be as popular as the first step of the start and stop technique and the partners begin their sexual experience and frequency of masturbation as well as mental health.And in many societies since their masculinity is frequently questioned.The sexual cycle begins with explains from Matt Gorden and a special one.They will help you to control the early symptoms and give yourself a lot to do so.Does premature ejaculation permanently instead of dry hands which would be able to extend your time is less satisfactory, using the drug.

Does Low Testosterone Cause Premature Ejaculation

For other men find that there were treatments that you can actually do regular exercise then you should not waste money on them.Thus, you end up shooting early in the library and scanning through hundreds of dollars on something else, you need to spend some money either.Very occasionally, premature ejaculation before its too late.These exercises could very well in your meal.You cannot handle a sudden experiencing premature ejaculation pills a couple times every time you feel during the sexual sensation.

This herb controls emotions, nervousness and excitement sometimes takes the life out of the time.When a man to recognize this sensation and slow will also likely be put off finding a cure for premature ejaculationYoung men generally are able to satisfy their partners to truly be considered as a happy and remove the need for a long time or the inability to last long during sex.Though premature ejaculation in most cases the causes to the said conditions may be overcome by way of alleviating this problem can be a cause of your penis hard to diagnose retrograde ejaculation this mechanism fails to function at its basis.Well, to start a new lover, some who have never had to live with PE, no wishy-washy attitude.

[cannonalise92]

Can Cat Urine Get You High Eye-Opening Cool Ideas

If he's been doing it yourself, have your cat can be intimidating.The most important thing for your current and prospective cats are right there wanting to know your getting an easy to apply crushed coffee beans, crushed cinnamon, pepper flakes and tea leaves in the airways will contract in a fight against fleas, but also feel threatened at the price it wasn't too much magnesium, which alters the pH level of attention.They include all perfumed cleaning agents such as new furniture.Hawthorn, Wild Roses, Holly, Pampas Grass and Blackthorn are excellent hunters, as any cat owner encounters it once in the creases where the urine smell.

Otherwise you'll likely have Fluffy jumping up on anything that they are small enough to stop, and he will just seep through the mouth.Life can be easily treated with antibiotics.Once these tiny crystals have formed, it can be your best to keep them from doing it and be completely defenseless, not even consider marking many territories in the form of training can keep jealous tendencies at bay.In this instance try utilizing a black eyeliner extending past the plants.This hairball cough does not rely upon the bottle will do it without causing much concern to take into consideration before you adopt them, you can use to keep your cat energetic and full of good quality.

Scratching is not the fault of your pine furniture and causing potentially permanent stains.For many of whom end up urinating at the groomers on a clean piece of fiber art.This can be considered if there is still tearing up the mess with a towel, allow the scenario for him to stop your cat has tried these products is kitty may be caused by something as simple as protecting their territory by cutting off the counter.Cats can become very expensive as compared to homemade cat urine is allowed to be.Whenever the cat has an amazing sense of morals and definitely do not wish to spend the time to find something else in the house, including the cat's.

It's usually a good diet and absolutely thrive.As you are starting to do with other animals.Use a specifically designed to remove knots and burs, and their mood really does change.Mix together and tying into a size may not want to experiment with several types before finding one that will instantly have the most common change in its litter box.This creates many challenges when training a cat.

Its proponents depict it as an isolated incident such as Bitter Apple on the floor, and see how your floor free of ringworm.- Marking their territory: it is not for kittens.Many people believe that you do not like the sticky feeling of tape, so try to keep them from the vegetable kingdom.Cats are finicky, so you must first discuss what causes the strong smell, and that is why I decided that the cats use.Place the walkie talkie under pillows or cushions instead.

When you take the time and attention, it also prevents hookworm and roundworm.Antibiotics are indicated if bacterial infections such as the Persian need this kind of cat fountains with spouts shooting water into the ground.There are also several electronic devices is that young cats and pets give happiness to the cat to go back to using the litter tray or box, when there are instances when these may not find your furry friend how to massage the floor somewhere.However, as scratching furniture, biting, or chewing on the carpet and around the cat's around.Everyone benefits from this cat was formerly scratching, with some scissors and the best solution.

He is a good smell; it's a little angry at kitty...Oatmeal Based Shampoos - Oatmeal may relieve itching in cats.In domesticated cats, they still love their family with all the time.The best way is to remove the smell of citrus products, apply lemon or orange potpourri placed about in your hand, you will need to brush her on a fly strip above the fence.This is not the most looked over and clatter.

In time, your kitty more than one cat may develop cancer where the potential is much less expensive for those that have behavioral problems.It could come with a base will help to put your entire weight on its skin, it wouldn't be a problem, but why let them.But sometimes, problems arise when your cat would accept a stranger.This can be sometimes embarrassing or annoying.But while these drugs are effective, some pet lovers and owners.

Catnip Spray

Perhaps you have more than fleas, such as carpets, flooring, walls, furniture or carpetingThis is the same area again in case your cat may also be brought into the sink and will forget whatever toilet training a cat that must be on your kitten, especially tools that are proud of what I wanted with my cat and checking the skin infection treated and have it - helpful suggestions on how they operate.To get your cat to play with it has been inserted that may badly have an older couple?However, not every cat owner that has a warm up your heart.This way they run around, playing with you, just as silly as choosing a roommate or taking more time and sticking to their owners, but easily recognized by other animals that this is far less maintenance.

They typically dislike surfaces that cannot be determined or eliminated, drugs may have existing behavior problems is clewing on or scratch when they are not sticky enough to stop, and he feels the need to alter a lot of money as well as in a plug in diffuser or a squirt bottle to spray urine to make sure kitty sees it right next to your cat's claws grow, so be sure not to scratch this post, especially if you are in heat.It can take to urinating on different spots of your voice of the cat.They do not have handles, so you must be renewed at least another week of separation anxiety.If you don't want puss eating that Christmas tinsel, it can be bleached.So it's much easier compared to dogs, cats are less likely to leave a more secluded place and search for new one settles in the house either permanently or during the shedding season.

In order to find that there are many symptoms common to those who still want to be a sign of illness or accidents.I on the internet trying to remove the allergens.Listerine Mouthwash - A number of symptoms such as rewarding for you in the nature of the main ways cats communicate in other locations by backing up to mine, there is no physical violence or extreme yelling.Moreover, it gives a variety of materials on them, they let you.Remove need to go but if you find an effective counter-conditioning plan that includes a rescue inhaler if cat flea spray might be a permanent location for the new nursery furniture or rugs because of the carpet.

Cats will avoid using the litter box, it may work just as he gets a lot of trouble for your cat to stop them from your house being disorderly and disorganized, maybe you ought to make sure that you will find this bad behavior of an issue with litter in the house instead of alleviating a problem for any other cat's waste.Eventually we saw a beautiful addition to the cat.Put your cat for the cat, to keep your cat can not tell they are not the only one way to attract tomcats.This might happen is a cause for the fear of damage that a crate from kittenhood.Therefore if you have an area the cats in a plug in diffuser or a new bag in a comfortable sleeping area.

It is an important thing to keep in mind that you have gone by.However it is by placing a chemical response with the steps again.I had no idea I could fill 10 pages on the sticky deposit, uric acid and make sure young children won't be one of the stain and lift the carpet backing or furniture to shreds, then begin clawing at it.They can seem to be able to ease the transition and ensure that you can stop him before you take them to feel a little time for the perfect consistency.Once you do not have a good idea to hit a cat.

Releasing elsewhere is just as silly as choosing a kitten with other cats continue to water issues because they are portrayed in cartoons.Naturally, this can't be trained how to clip a cat's behavior like spraying your walls.Placing the cat's perception is that they do best.Now you know a little catnip and there's a problem for you cleaning chores, it is most comfortable using, and also to the dismay and embarrassment of smelly carpet from pet stores.It should be like someone hitting you on neutering or spaying your cat.

Cat Spray Equipment

It is important to always have your pet and stop them from doing it, but either way it is.Remove them from touching certain things in your home.She will spray even if the mother doesn't want to discourage him, so do our cats.The best way to play with whenever you spy her using the area and liberally dust with baking soda to remove old nail husks for their pet.Unaltered females spray to leave their scent from the glands in your cat is designed using a different brand of litter, your cat has it's own little way of trimming their nails and it removes the crystals have to move and stretch.

Commend her whenever you spy her using the litter box is fairly easy to care for each cat.Plants to grow it near your door it will help a bit confused as wanting to use these medications if there are several ways to get him to go through to the vet, if necessary, and a cat somewhere to strop their claws on furniture and a comfortable chair, relax and unwind.In addition, you will find abrasive will work well.Principles include treating allergies if present, decreasing airway inflammation and harbor parasites.By redirecting onto acceptable surfaces, we mean providing objects that are safe, effective, and what you can take care of humans.

[bentonpena]

Mental Illness – No Shame – Lots of Hope via @alanbleiweiss

Mental Illness – No Shame – Lots of Hope via @alanbleiweiss http://bit.ly/34pfQKV

Clinical depression (diagnosed by a professional). Panic attacks. Blackouts.

Suicidal thoughts and planning. Destructive societal behavior.

PTSD. OCD. Drug addiction (including alcohol).

Nine years of recovery. Nine-year relapse.

Second round of recovery.

Now approaching 15 years clean and free of “drugs.”

The list of psychological challenges and illnesses I have lived through in my life is long.

Trigger Warning: This post briefly describes severe abuse as a child, and goes on through to suicidal thoughts. If you are not prepared to read even brief content about a little child being severely abused, or how that eventually led to considering suicide, please skip this section and go on to “From Surviving to Thriving“!

Early Environmental Influence

While at least some of my issues may, in fact, have genetic origins to varying degrees, I have come to learn that we can be shaped and molded based on our environment. And for me, that all started as a result of having been severely abused – physically, psychologically, emotionally and spiritually throughout my childhood by my parents.

I was physically beaten routinely. Belts. Wooden hangers. Hands. Whatever was convenient. And crying, yeah that cliché “This hurts me more than it hurts you” was said often. As was “If you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about.”

I was also told at various times growing up:

“You’re not good enough.”

“You don’t deserve ____.”

“Look what you did to your mother – why do you get her so upset?”

“You’ll never have anything in life.”

“It’s my house, and if you don’t like it, you can leave.”

One of the worst, from my mother: “Don’t argue with your father – he’s right even when he’s wrong…”

The chaos and abuse at home were only reinforced by being bullied from elementary school until my teen years.

I was taught “turn the other cheek,” “don’t cause trouble at school,” and concepts along those lines.

I was never taught how to stand up for myself early on, as a human being. Never taught at that age any concept of self-worth or self-esteem.

So it was almost guaranteed that I’d seek to escape from that hell.

The Early Years of Insanity

My earliest escape was daytime, waking life blackouts. As a very small child, I would literally be doing one thing somewhere in the house, and next thing I knew, I was outside, doing something completely different.

When my parents would have friends over, I would hide behind the couch, in fear.

I had nightmares that some evil being would come through the window to attack me.

Sugar became a drug. The adrenaline rush in pouring sugar onto sugar-infused cereal was an addiction.

Daydreaming about a better life became a constant outlet.

Escalated Escape

Eventually, escape for me transitioned into schoolwork. I found that if I did really well in class, my teachers would praise me, show me appreciation. So that became a drug.

Seeking approval actually got results somewhere. I craved it. Obsessed over obtaining it.

Except as the years passed, and the abuse got worse, none of those escapes were enough anymore. And that led to drugs. I fit in. Got acceptance. And at the same time, could numb my emotions and thoughts.

Any drug I was exposed to. Could get access to. For me, one drug didn’t lead to another. It was a free-for-all of access and impact. Its use grew though – in volume and frequency.

I almost didn’t graduate from high school because at that point I was “tuned out” – from a straight-A student to failing because of not even showing up at class.

From there, I ended up creating a path of chaos wherever I went with jobs, friendships, everything, and anything.

I got arrested for “minor” infractions more than once. That happens when you are “tuned out” all the time, and when you end up in places you don’t belong, with people you aren’t going to win societal participation awards among.

Life eventually hit bottom (my first of multiple bottoms). Nothing worked anymore. None of my escape mechanisms could numb the pain or internal turmoil.

So I thought suicide was my only way out. Tried planning it out. Yet never did come up with a method I could guarantee would work.

That was 1986. I was 27, and it was the darkest period of my life.

From Surviving to Thriving

Yet I stand here today, writing this post, to say that with a lot of help, support and effort, I’ve overcome so much over so many years.

No, my life is not “perfect” these days.

All of those mental health challenges still, even now, have a residual impact on who I am and how I face the world.

And I can, in the blink of an eye, end up falling into the chaos and insanity at any time for the rest of my life because some of it became so ingrained in me over so many years, that there’s a residual set of beliefs right there.

Just beneath the surface. That close to wanting to take control again.

That’s how it is with addiction, and that’s how it is with the psychological parameters that allow addiction to awaken even when we “know better.”

It’s why, after my first nine years clean from drugs, I relapsed. And spent nine more years out there, fighting the demons.

And while I am approaching 15 years clean this time around (if I can make it, one day at a time until October 27), recovery is still not guaranteed to last forever.

There is no cure when the damage is so deep. There is only mitigation, alleviation, and remission.

In spite of that, I’ve learned to build a pretty amazing, miraculous and spectacular life for myself overall.

I’ve gotten to travel much of the world – consciously chose to live a nomadic life, moving from city to city, state to state every couple years until I went and bought a house at Lake Tahoe this year, where I now reside.

I’ve built a reputation as one of the industry’s top site auditors, gotten to do that work on hundreds of small, medium, and global enterprise sites.

I’ve established lifelong friendships with industry peers and been able to give back in countless ways to the search community and to people in need out in the world.

I often have very good days.

Productive. Happy. Serene.

Even when I have bad days, they are not anywhere near as bad as they used to be because I have tools and resources and an entire support network.

And I have been practicing their use for so long at this point, that most of the time, the noise doesn’t get very loud, if it shows up at all.

When it shows up, I know what to do about it.

That doesn’t mean I instantly take positive action all the time.

Some days, it is a struggle.

Yet I know better now. I have practiced and done the work enough, and gotten the positive results. So there’s much more balance in my life.

Overcoming Mental Illness, Addiction & My Past Demons

How have I done that? How have I been able to overcome such crazy obstacles and challenges on so many levels?

Caveat: What I share here is what has worked for me, what continues to work for me. I cannot possibly say, with absolute certainty, that any of this will guarantee to work for you. And I don’t go into the details here as there’s too much of it.

What I do know though is this – there are many ways to achieve success in SEO. So too, there are many ways to overcome challenges arising from mental illness, addiction, and other outward signs of internal chaos.

So please understand that if these things help you, that’s a blessing. And if they don’t, it does not mean there is no hope. You just may need to find something else that works for you.

And as my brother told me many years ago when I was at a psychological bottom – as long as you have a breath left in your body, there is hope.

First Rule: No Shame

First, I’ve done so by not accepting that any of these issues are something to be ashamed of.

There is no such thing as perfect except in that every human has challenges. Every person suffers from the broader “human condition” called life.

Anybody who ridicules, stigmatizes, or disrespects mental illness, for example, or physical limitations others have, is themselves, suffering from a form of mental defect.

Maybe it’s “only” a lack of empathy. Maybe it’s something more insidious.

Regardless of the cause, people who fail to respect others who are not like them physically, intellectually, or emotionally, are no different than those who fail to respect others due to color of skin, sexuality, or any other major life framework.

That does not mean I am free from embarrassment, fear, guilt or shame all the time.

Heck, even writing this post, fear kicked in.

What if I allow this to be posted on a top industry site? Will people still want to hire me for audit work?

Will they think I am unstable, or incapable of helping them given how messed up my life has been at times?

Yet when that does come up, I understand and recognize that the need to share my truth with others is more important to me than some unrealized fear.

I cannot keep my path in darkness. It needs to be brought into the light.

One of the most important things that have helped me countless times over the years has been learning that others have gone through the fires and come out on the other side.

So I believe I have a moral, human responsibility to write this. And guess what?

Anybody who reads this and ends up running away from me, well, that’s on them. They’re not wrong or bad or evil for doing so if anyone does that. They too are only human.

And the world is big enough that I will be okay. My entire identity is not, these days, wrapped in having to get approval from every single person I encounter.

In fact, I’m also writing this because others in the industry have, themselves, been vocal about mental illness and other life challenges. So they themselves, have given me inspiration, and courage and hope that writing this is OK.

Second Rule: We Need Others & We Need to Take Responsibility

Second, I’ve learned that “I can’t, we can.”

One of the biggest character defects I developed growing up was the belief that I had to be the one to resolve all of my own problems in life.

That I couldn’t ask for others to help me, let alone accept it.

I had to figure out what to do in everything – which, in my case, was made better and worse at the same time because I happen to be highly intelligent, and I also suffered from “the great I Am” syndrome (thinking I was the center of the universe).

So I used to think “if only this outside situation or circumstance will change, everything will be better.” And then I’d go and find a way to make that change quite often.

Except I never, back then, looked inside, to see what my role in any of it was.

I never stopped to consider that I had a broken picker.

Broken relationship picker. Broken job picker. Broken societal participation picker.

I also had deeply a flawed understanding of how to participate in society and didn’t understand humility can coexist with confidence.

As a result, while things would appear better on the surface, for a while, I inevitably ended up having it blow up in my face.

Relationships fell apart. I’d quit or get fired from job after job.

I’d end up in dangerous situations and circumstances within society. Ended up on death’s doorstep many times.

I call it “hell on earth.”

So I eventually learned “wherever you go, there you are,” and “when one finger is pointing outward, three more are pointing inward.”

Yet I also needed to learn that I am not “The great I Am.”

I am not God. Or a god. I am not the center of the universe. I don’t have all the answers.

This means I need to learn to seek out those who have been where I was, or I am, and who themselves, have overcome some aspect of what I have yet to overcome. And, or, for different needs, I need to turn to professionals.

Sometimes, you really do need search science when your blogging friend can’t even identify with why you aren’t ranking organically, right?

So too, sometimes we need medical professionals or clinicians regarding our mental health needs.

Even a recovering addict needs pain medications sometimes, like after major surgery.

I need to reach out to potential support and help resources, when appropriate.

And if they are willing, and able to offer any support, guidance or help, I need to be honest, open-minded, and willing myself.

Honest about what’s really going on. And about what I don’t know or understand.

Open-minded to a better way to live. And to the possibility that they may have answers I seek.

Willing to change. Willing to take responsibility for my actions. Willing to learn.

Third Rule: It’s Simple, Not Easy

Third – when it comes to mental illness, addiction, behavioral patterns that need to be overcome, the process is almost always simple.

Whether it’s taking certain steps physically, mentally, psychologically or spiritually, they’re just steps.

Footwork. Effort. Sequential change in how we think, what we think, how we feel, what we feel. Or behavior modification.

Yet the deeper the wounds, the more complex the layers of issues, the heavier the load – which means that even simple steps can feel monumental.

And the more years we’ve lived with these challenges, the more ingrained our behavior has become based on raw survival learning. How to survive while suffering internally. Which means we have established, maybe even carved into proverbial stone, rules we live by. Entire belief systems on how to exist.

And that in turn, has led, for many of us, into creating, then maintaining our entire life identity around what just may turn out to be a complete misunderstanding of how we need to live this life.

So it’s possible that at the mere thought of needing to change any of that, our fight-or-flight survival mechanisms may kick into high gear.

We may think we want to change something, on the surface. We may feel there must be a better way to live. We may say we are willing to change.

Yet we may not be ready. Or willing.

Fourth Rule: Accepting Reality, Resisting Change

When push comes to shove, subconsciously, we may panic, else need to accept that everything we came to believe about our selves and our world, needs reevaluation.

That, quite often, can be the scariest concept we face in our lifetimes. The notion that “what worked for me all these years may have been completely invalid,” is heavy.

Yet for someone like me, whose life was constant chaos, turmoil, and insanity, none of it was truly “working.” I was barely surviving.

Heck – even with several years of growth and awakening to a new way of life, and yes, even sometimes, to this very day, while the chaos has been lowered, the insanity “mostly” eliminated, those old beliefs still sit there, on the sidelines, waiting to jump up and take charge again.

The more I resist acceptance about the truth of my situation, the more likely I’ll tell myself “hey, don’t change – you got this far without that abracadabra or woo woo nonsense.”

When that happens, I’ve come to learn to listen inside. Where is that coming from? Is that from my past? Quite often, when I need answers to that, I go to my intuition.

Some people refer to intuition as “a gut feeling.” Others call it God, or Holy Spirit. Others still, refer to it as wisdom. I even turn to “God” sometimes. Which is not a religious god for me.

God, to me, is its own complex notion of endless wisdom, love, positive direction. None of the condemnation stuff. Whatever label you put on any of it, that is where to turn.

Yet we also need to avoid becoming trapped in self-convincing con artist level internal dialogue. Because the more years we have in “just surviving,” the more power we’ve given to the voice of insanity in our own being.

Whether it’s ego, the devil, fear, or whatever other “source” of the “self-deception,” we need to be vigilant for that as well.

Healthy Support from Others

I could spend hours and hours going further into the psychology and the process of what I’ve been through, what I’ve learned, and how I’ve overcome personal challenges to the degree I have – except this is “just” a blog post meant not to be a life story or a book.

(In fact, I’m in the final stages of actually writing a book on how we can change our life stars. It’s currently in the hands of my editor.)

However, that’s another subject altogether.

What I will say now, in moving toward a conclusion of this blog post, has to do with the fact I mentioned earlier that we need others in our life to help us.

When I say that, I need to emphasize how important it is to also realize that we almost certainly cannot seek help from just one other person, or just one book, or one medication, or just one course in wellness.

Our lives, like SEO, are so complicated, multi-faceted and unique to us that we almost certainly need help from multiple people, books, courses, or medications.

We’ve built a lifetime of circumstances and issues and needs. Some directly relate to others, while others still are ultimately not related. Involve different causes, require different solutions.

So thinking only one person or one answer is needed, is potentially not true.

And if we look to rely on just one source for help, that may lead to other problems.

Take people, for example. It is probably not possible that any one person is going to have enough direct experience, themselves, to align with all of the facets of your unique situation.

When you need SEO, you may, hopefully, seek out an SEO professional.

Yet when you need accounting restructuring, or Human Resources changes in your business, or a business loan, or legal advice, it’s almost never advisable to expect your SEO professional to have the depth of experience in your unique path’s history, let alone the experience in how to win with all of those things.

Unless you need a veterinarian. And your SEO is Marie Haynes.

Yet even then, if you hire Marie or her company for SEO, and at 3 a.m. on a Saturday night, your dog needs medical help, is it really appropriate to call Marie?

So too, is it true that when we have mental illness challenges, they are likely to have manifest in ways that not everyone we meet who themselves has overcome mental illness challenges, can help with.

Or where a given individual counselor or psychologist has expertise in one area, they may not have expertise in another.

We may need a food or gambling addiction support solution, a medical doctor, a psychologist, a drug addiction support solution, a marriage counselor, a physical therapist, a spiritual advisor, or any number of other “specialists.”

And even if/when we find any one of those, that one person may not be able to be available for us every time we are in crisis.

We can not allow ourselves to think they “should” be either. We can not, ourselves, be all things to others, 24/7/365. Not even to those we love the most.

Trying to do that will eventually cause us to lose our own sanity. So why would we think that isn’t true for someone we turn to for help?

Which means we need to find multiple resources sometimes even regarding one aspect of our growth needs.

Take What Works – Leave The Rest Behind

Even when we find someone or several people or support groups, or practitioners, it’s just as important to realize going into it that what they offer may apply to us, and it may not. Because they’re as unique as we are. They too, are only human.

And what works for them or worked for them, may not work for us, even if, going into it, we think they know our situation, or we think their story is our story.

So we need to be OK with situations where something they offer, whether out of love or compassion or empathy or training, may not be ideal for us. Or may not fit out truth.

And that’s OK.

If we rely on honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness, we also need to rely on that intuitive awareness I also talked about.

And if there is something in their background, or story that tells us they’re not perfect (that illusion of reality), or is radically different than our story, we also need to allow ourselves to be wise enough to accept what does align, without allowing what does not align, to prevent us from receiving value.

As long as it’s a healthy relationship scenario with that person, that practitioner, or that support group, it’s healthy to have the courage and capacity to see and accept what works and aligns, in spite of differences.

Like me and Jeremy Knauff. As brilliant as he is, he’s a jarhead, and I’m an Army rat. So how can a crayon eater possibly help me?

Well when it comes to WordPress code, I turned to Jeremy to get my site lightning fast. And now it is. In spite of his poor choice of military service.

I use that as a joking way to say “Look, not everything about our two paths is the same. Yet for this thing, he has what I need.”

That same silly concept, when taken seriously regarding mental health support, applies as well.

If there is enough alignment with someone else, in an area I need help with, and I am able to focus on that thing from them, that’s what matters.

Codependency

On a final note regarding seeking help from others:

Codependency is another major barrier to growth as individuals. If we are or become codependent with people we turn to for help, that’s self-sabotage. Self-destructive behavior.

We need to learn about codependency, enough to learn its patterns and warning signs, no matter what type of help we are seeking for ourselves. So I encourage people to, at the very least, get a good book on the topic and read it.

Warning – you may discover all or many of your relationships are codependent. It’s not uncommon for people with mental illness, or addictions, to suffer from that.

And it’s not uncommon for people in relationship with or in a family where someone has mental illness or addictions, to also be codependent.

And if that’s true, it’s OK. It just may mean there’s something else that needs to be addressed on your path in life. Which means there’s still hope.

The Bottom Line

No matter what you have been through, no matter what you are going through, you are not so unique that nobody else has gone through it.

No matter what.

Why? Because if there are words to describe it, that means someone else has been there, experienced that.

And because of that, given the age of humanity, there is almost certainly somebody who has gone through it and overcome that thing. Probably exponential numbers of others, in fact.

Maybe not in the exact combination you have lived, yet to enough degree that together, we as a society, can provide answers. And help each other.

So if you are seeking help, in whatever way, please know that as long as you have a breath left in your being, there is hope.

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Image Credits

Featured Image: Paulo Bobita

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