#my love language is an excel spreadsheet <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mitsmebinch]

maybe its the autism but tbh if i was just sit in front of a computer and just given stacks of paper to enter into boxes just type tab type tab type tab i would literally be so happy and so fulfilled why isn't that my job

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5 | Read Part 6

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident 

Thursday, 16:42 pm 

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10’, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!” 

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!” 

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)” 

“we’re going live.. tune in xx” 

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him. 

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night. 

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans. 

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic… just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him. 

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now. 

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy. 

But you can’t help it. 

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality. 

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be. 

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now. 

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B. 

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real. 

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home. 

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis. 

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream. 

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour. 

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward. 

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand. 

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is. 

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior. 

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound. 

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are. 

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks. 

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him. 

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally. 

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this. 

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so. 

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in. 

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile. 

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?” 

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles. 

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying. 

You’re gonna make him beg for it. 

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.” 

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge. 

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire. 

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.” 

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue. 

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth. 

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps. 

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there. 

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips. 

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow. 

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips. 

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute. 

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement. 

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two. 

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy. 

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core. 

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control. 

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat. 

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding. 

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure. 

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great. 

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

[absolutebl]

10 Best BL Shows with the Hottest Sexitimes

Because this is English and word order matters, this title means the show itself has to be good AS WELL AS the scenes high heat, as opposed to the best sex scenes in BL. The two are not necessarily the same list. Anyway I tried to pick both high heat and a fun show. This was hard (pun intended).

FYI expect triggers with your high heat.

(Oh right. For me to get a 3/3 heat rating the BL has simulated sex in it or very close to it. And usually one or more other sexual acts like bjs, a-ply, etc...)

So, I went to the spreadsheet, and sorted it by high heat and then ranking, and here is what I got. I think #1 will surprise you. What will not surprise you is it's mostly Thai and Taiwanese.

10. TharnType (and follow ups)

Thai 2019 Viki

Should it still rank, all these years later? I am sorry to say, yes it should. University setting, great acting and complex characters, interesting friendship groups, enemies to lovers, seriously angsty coming out, high production values, AMAZING chemistry, multiple BL side couples with all the issues, damaging queer rep, strong seme/uke and husband/wife language, classic tropes and lots of them bad.

But it's famous for a reason.

This was KinnPorsche before KinnPorsche.

9. Addicted: Heroin

China 2016 Viki

When Chinese BL was good it was very dirty good and when it was bad it was censored. This is the model for that statement: rich kid falls madly for the genius poor kid in his class, starts an aggressive pursuit, includes kidnapping for love, obsession, stepbrother trope, plus some cheating. I love this BL because of what I could have been.

Just stop watching it after The Sex Scene. Okay?

8. Love Stage!!

Thai 2022 YouTube

This BL surprised me with its charm. The acting was good, the leads were appealing, support cast on point, and the production values high. It followed the original manga story arc relatively closely: boy falls in love with girl as a child, grows up to discover girl is actually a very pretty boy.

Although there are some quintessentially Thai changes that mellowed, softened, and extended the romance arc and heat levels.

7. HIStory 4: Close to You

Taiwan 2021 Viki

Nancy Chen directs, the side dish plot is basically a pastiche of problematic BL tropes inherited from the above. Great chemistry, high heat, stepbrothers, dubcon, obsession, stalker etc…

They sexy tho.

6. My Day

Pinoy 2020 YouTube

The set up on this one is enemies (also boss/employee) and they don’t like each other to start. But that gets resolved pretty quickly. And then they are some of the cutest, hottest, and best boyfriends ever.

This is an under-appreciated BL, IMHO.

5. Cutie Pie

Thai 2022 YouTube

Very high production (and heat) and a lot of visual references to live action yaoi gave this show a whiff of Japan but ultimately it stayed firmly in Thailand’s BL camp veering from absurd to appealing to annoying and then back to absurd again. If you can roll with the arranged marriage conceit and very lifestyle D/s relationships, the chemistry is spot on even if the plot is naff and driven by miscommunication.

Watch this one for the pretty, give it a pass on depth. (It has depth, it just depth of tongue kisses.)

Also the follow up: Naughty Babe

4. Bed Friend

Thai 2023 YouTube but for high heat you'll net to watch on iQIYI

Office frienamies transition a flaming hot one night stand into a f-buddy relationship that is built on a puppy/cat dynamic (and kinks into it at one point). Our puppy is loyal, smitten, and protective with endlessly longing eyes, while our cat is snarky, prickly, and deeply damaged (ALL THE TRIGGERS).

NetJames give lovely high-heat with excellent chemistry and tuned-in performances of surprising depth, unfortunately the story ultimately failed them. Had the show had the strength of its convictions and kept to a tighter, darker, harsher 8 eps it would have been the first high heat to earn a 10/10 from me, but once they fussed with it, it dropped to a solid 8/10. Could have been great but was overworked.

Still if high heat is your thing, this one will not let you down.

3. HIStory 3: Trapped

Taiwan 2019 Viki

Basically the definition of enemies to lovers from Lin Pei Yu. This is a cop + the mafia man he is chasing but WAIT, they fall in love. Added bonus side couple: assassin and nerd cop ALSO falling in love. It’s great. All the leads are stellar. Its high heat, fun action, and a bit of a mystery drama but pretty about all of it.

My only warning is that the main couple doesn’t entirely end up together, it’s implied, but… amorphous ending.

2. Why R U?

Thai 2020 Viki

No one knows what’s going on, not even the characters, but absolutely no one cares 'cause it's so thirsty. The plot seems to be "great chemistry and make sure Zee's shirts are NEVER BUTTONED PROPERLY." We, the collective, have a pro Hawaiian shirt anti-button stance, so rah rah rah! (Still the most confusing thing about this show is: why they didn't just title it YRU?)

The FighterTuror sex scenes still stand as some of the best ever fielded in a Thai BL. I will not be entertaining opposition on this matter.

1. Be Loved In House: I Do

Taiwan 2021 Viki

A cute classy office set BL with a few plot raised eyebrows, but no other concerns. ALL THE TROPES plus a general sweet softness that’s pretty rare from Taiwan, who usually prefer to go hard, but all their signature domesticity.

There is one high heat sex scene and it's great. But it's the whole package of classic sappy Taiwanese BL that puts this at the very top for me.

Generally just v high heat?

Hottest sex scenes in BL is frankly gonna be largely a matter of your personal taste.

But if the ones mentioned above don't work try:

KinnPorsche

Love in the Air

Big Dragon

HIStory 3; MODC (the BL that shall not be named)

Be Mine Super Star

Manner of Death (and anything else with MaxTul)

Oh My Sunshine Night (sides)

Secret Crush on You

Wedding Plan

Most dark JBL has very good high heat, but... ya know.

For @samara44 by request.

Dated Nov 2023, not responsible for amazing high head that came after.

(source)

[1eos]

mx kendra, do you have any advice for job hunting? I'm about to start looking(again), but its always so intimidating - have a lovely day!

how it feels to start job hunting in the 2020s:

but yes i have advice for you anon! last time i went job hunting i got serious enough where i was reading 'askamanager' blogs and shit like that to really make sure i wasn't wasting my effort

so kendra's advice to job hunting in the most effort effective way:

first and most importantly is to understand that job hunting rn is simply a numbers game. it's not you it's just that the society we're living in is full of shit. for every 10 job postings, 4 are fake, 1 has an internal candidate in mind already, 3 are just posting jobs to look good and the rest are legit but slow af

bc job hunting is a numbers game its easy to be discouraged if you're not receiving responses consistently as proof that you're not just throwing shit into the void so its superrr imperative to try your best to apply to legit jobs. ive found my best success using indeed as a method of jobs being brought to me and then going on the company website myself and applying. this also doubles as a way to make sure a job posting/company is real

keep a spreadsheet of applied jobs. i just googled 'job application spreadsheet template' and picked one of the first ones i saw, made a copy, and then modified it to suit my needs. keeping a spreadsheet was one of the best things i did bc it can help keep track of jobs you've found and haven't applied to/ones you have applied to/and if you're like me and had a goal of getting a state job i could pre-empt when the interview requests were gonna come in lol 😭

resumes/cover letters. whew. probably the most important part of job hunting. ai scanning or not its a good rule of thumb to have skills mentioned in the job description to match the job posting. what i did was dedicate a folder in my google drive to job stuff and made a folder for each kind of jobs i was interested in. from there i would find a job i wanted to apply to and tailor an old resume to have a bunch of the shit mentioned in the posting on the new resume. i'd save it in the appropriate folder with the date i edited it. if you haven't been in the habit of tailoring your resume you may be doing this a lot but eventually you'll have so many variations you won't have to do much editing if at all. and i do the same with cover letters. i have a general template for my cover letter and then tweak them for each kinds of jobs im looking for. this + ditching linkedin helped me A LOT

create an interview cheatsheet. you probably already know the job hunting sphere has a language and culture all its own. personally as someone with a touch of the 'tism it do not make sense to me so i have unknowingly not navigated interviews as well as i could have. what's helped? ask a manager. seriously. miss allison has helped me blend in as a normie soooo much 😭😭😭😭 if you have any specific questions/have any specific weaknesses just search the site but what really helped me was the list of good interview questions. oh and for the longest i could never come up with a good question to ask my interviewer but one day google recced me this article and now every time i ask 'so what would separate a good candidate from an excellent candidate in this role' and when i tell you my interviewers gag every time lollllll. i also went through 'boost your interview iq' [pdf download link here <3] and jotted down notes on how i can answer common interview questions to quickly be able to go over the night before

study the job posting before the interview btw and try to drum up at least one correlating anecdote for some of the major points of the job bc they WILL ask you that lollllllll

[lonewolflink]

non chronological scene collage….oh you are speaking my language…..i love love love (plus jihyo!!! ahh!!!! jihyo!!!!!!!! <33333) 2yeon was the ship that got me into kpop fic and therefore they will always have a special place in my heart

as for fanart. i cannot promise it will be good (harken back to the bit where i have NOT practiced drawing the itzy girlies yet) but ive been thinking abt all of them all day so. who knows!! potentially incoming!!!!

also every time you talk about all the arcs and whatnot i want to get a corkboard with red string and deduce like. i am so excited. no 1 wsc fan here. i watched a hockey match yesterday and ive never watched a single sports game in my life. i think it’s taking over like some sort of infectious mold. -hambbyong

keep asking about 2yeon and i'll probably do it lmao they're so fun (irl, in fic, in every universe, i just love that dynamic. and especially when jeongyeon had the fluffy blonde hair. oh my god. not to be thirsty on main but, uh, ma'am)

my twice research for writing hockey au made very clear to me early on that the ships i gravitated to were michaeng, 2yeon, and to a lesser extent dahmo. can't quite tell if those are sort of the OG favored ships that are now outdated, but those are the ones that made most sense to me! we already have a little 2yeon in hockey au and an easter egg of michaeng with them as a d pairing...i'll have to see if i want to do anything more than that with the twice ships. i'll say nothing about sana until we meet her in chapter 3 ;)

the thought that anyone is enjoying my au enough to even think about drawing fanart for it, no matter the quality, is incredibly touching (and makes me feel so motivated to keep writing tbh). can't wait to see what you come up with if/when you commit to doing it, and i'm sure it'll be amazing :)

also LMAO with the corkboard you have no idea i literally have 4 planning documents, one of which is over 100 pages long. i have an entire excel spreadsheet tracking season stats for every named player in the league (aka the members of literally EVERY MAJOR GG IN 3RD/4TH GEN KPOP because i'm fucking nuts), many of whom probably won't even appear in the fic (...though quite a few...will...keep an eye out ;) ). i...went completely insane on this one idk it just GRABBED ME and i couldn't stop, blame my adhd hyperfixation, i hope it never ends

me writing hockey au (shouting at @ddeongies and @snowddeong):

[cardriocanine]

My beautiful lil derpjerksweetboi™

I'm an Excel nut. I chart everything, calculate everything, log everything. At this point in my life, it's a personality trait (to the point I have a shirt that says "Freak in the sheets" with an Excel spreadsheet image). And thus, I have been tracking everything with Onyx. His naps, his foods, his accidents, his outside victories... everything.

And one thing I've noticed is that for 3 hours a day, he is possessed. Absolute batshit crazy possessed. His overall 'daytime' (aka 7 to 5:30) schedule seems to be an average of 240 minutes of playtime and 260 minutes of sleep, with 12 bathroom breaks and a few minutes of time out (for my sanity). Time out is really just a few minutes in his playpen with some treats and toys.

I signed him up for his obedience training, which starts on February 9th. So far, he's got Sit and Lay Down pretty good, with a much higher success rate for Sit than Lay Down. He's still over 85% with both, so I'm extremely proud of the little furball. I'm excited to see how the classes do for him.

I also will be signing him up for doggie daycare for a couple of months. I only have 4 or so months left on this work contract, and quite a bit to do, so daycare will be good for his socialization and good for my task completion. I hope this doesn't mess with SD training when we get going on that in full, but for now, I think I'm going to have to do this.

I've spent way too much on toys and accessories at this point. I'm a gifter. It is literally my love language.

And I stink. JFC do I stink right now. I haven't showered in days because good lort who has the time. It's like life with a newborn over here. I work 9 hours a day, play with him for 6 or so hours of the day, and sleep the rest. I'm exhausted and smelly and worn out, but it's almost the weekend and he's now getting into our routine so it'll be easier to take care of myself properly.

[samtheflamingomain]

typhoon tycoon

There's only 3 simulation games I've ever played: Sims (so technically 4 there) Roller Coaster Tycoon (RCT) and Zoo Tycoon (ZT).

Not even 2 or 3 - the base ZT game. I still do not fuck with 2 or 3 and I'm really not sure why.

But I think I'll discover why as I explain why I hate real-life zoos, love fake zoos, hate Roller Coaster Tycoon but love real roller coasters.

See, designing roller coasters, even in 1, is boring. Hmm, do I want a 30% incline or a 40? Let's spend 15 hours testing which specific piece of track is the one launching my guests into orbit instead of back to the station.

But designing enclosures for animals that won't ever be harmed, without an immediate failure mechanic? Sign me up.

And there it is, I realized why I like 1 over the newer ones: isometric, limited view. 2 invites the user to play in first-person… from the point of view of the animal. Maybe I'm a speshul snowflake but it seems a bit dystopic to be able to view the world from an imprisoned animal.

Also it came with an insanely OP function by which you can simply click a button to tell you what grass and trees a giraffe likes, how many, and one rock can make a 10% difference.

*Hikes up suspenders* back in MY DAY, we had to read the brief about the actual animal and find the names of trees and terrain and figure it out yourself until you got old enough to learn Excel and make the entire game a spreadsheet and then it's not as fun. Just me? Anyway.

The reason I brought Coaster Tycoon into my AAA-level hockey fight that is my argument is that I truly cannot believe the vast dichotomy between these two games.

I am familiar with the history of RCT - and it's absolutely fascinating. Coded in one of the most frustratingly esoteric language in 1996 by one man, ONE MAN, it's actually an incredible story.

Again, I LOVE roller coasters, but no matter how interesting its story is, I just can't stand building a coaster park. I think this is me not liking to see how the sausage gets made if that makes sense. I want to go on crazy fast scary coasters. And the minute I step into the coaster car, I take on the absolute possibility that this insanely complex machine could lose one nut and bolt and launch me into the sun or straight down to hell. Why? Because it wasn't build by me. Maybe I'm naïve but I trust Wonderland. They have 0 deaths. I'll take the chance and enjoy those wild 90 seconds spinning around and looping and being pinned to my seat by centrifugal force. Because a real engineer bent over backward to make sure this structure is so safe that it accounts for double the level of stupidity humans are capable of.

Building them in-game, to me, is boring - I just want the end product. And ride on it. If I were to build a good coaster, I'd almost be mad that I couldn't ride it in real life. First-person mode does nothing for me.

Back to Zoo Tycoon. I HATE real-life zoos. Yes, seeing an elephant up close is truly a deeply incredible experience, but at least for me, it will always be tainted by the intrusive thought, "She should be out roaming the African Savannah, not in Toronto, Canada".

It's such a different experence to build zoos in a game where the animal is a jpeg and you actually get penalized - but not instantly failed - for not taking proper care of them, forcing you to build the most humane of zoos that's possible. Neopets ripped them off.

And, at the same time, actually learning about the animals in the process. I know SO MUCH about animals because of ZT needing me to figure out their favourite tree and their preferred number of roommates.

You can go the Sims route and put a panther in the same enclosure as an unfortunate okapi and get that sadistic "drowning Sims in the pool by removing the ladder" feel that I personally don't understand but it's enough of a phenomenon that I don't think it's a reflection of one's potential psychopathy diagnosis. A discussion for another day.

But it brings me to one thing that's very different that I've yet to touch on: God. Have you heard the Good Word? Me neither.

Sims - God-power. Zoo Tycoon - God-power. RCT? Engineer-power. Sorry boys, your degree isn't quite on par with Jesus.

I hope that makes sense because I can't really explain it much more. RCT, of all the Tycoons, is so insanely specific, meticulous, and anti-thetical to its property. Roller coasters are supposed to be thrilling 90-second experiences, not dragging 90-minute slogs. But again, ONE MAN code.

That's mostly it, but a few straggling thoughts: I really love animals. I struggle to think of any I actively dislike - even dogs I've come around to. So I hate the practice of keeping them in captivity. But I don't hate the idea.

I've always had this oddly-specific plan if I were to become a billionaire: buy out every zoo on the planet, send the animals to sanctuaries or home if possible. Then, instead, spend 5 years investing in an immersive VR that puts you in an animal's habitat to observe. If zoos are for learning, there's no reason the animal actually needs to be there. Don't believe me? Planitariums. Do the planets' absence from such attractions mean one can't learn about them? *passes joint*

But one last thing that's always bothered me is this: what, if anything, could RCT do that would make me like it? And at first I couldn't think of anything, because it is, at its core, an engineering game, and I'm not an engineer.

It definitely wouldn't work as a ZT. Reading about roller coaster building standards is not as engaging as reading about real animals and their habitats. That's an entire game mechanic missing from RCT.

But also, plopping down pre-made coasters without any customization options wouldn't hit. So, to be honest and maybe hypocritical for criticizing without answers, I don't know. RCT is very unique among the Tycoons.

I think another element is stakes. Having one rusty fence on the monkey cage is alarming, but one rusty post on a coaster is catastrophic. Even if your rhino gets out, it's a matter of common sense intervention. If your coaster simply won't run start to finish, often it feels like a set of code that won't run and you just don't know why. It's frustrating. It's hard to get frustrated with animals.

I think that's about it. Again, just some randomly assembled thoughts, honestly not up to my usual posts but it's quite hard to put how I feel about these games into real words.

Stay Greater.

[elsecrytt]

Just in case my ask got lost, this is a Sandwich Saturday/Sunday ask. I realllyyy want to see Sandwich Satan/MC/Simeon. I'd think they make an interesting dynamic.

Nah, your ask wasn't lost, I've just got a few to go through, along with some motivation slumps, stuff getting busy on my end, etc.~

I've been kinda :/ about whether or not I can do a couple of these a day - I'll just have to see how it goes. But this is a VERY popular pairing (or u are just very eager,,, i feed u, rare sandwich liker <3) so!! I give!!

Anyways!! Satan/MC/Simeon it is~

[There is going to be a bit of a spoiler here regarding Simeon; it's something that's revealed in Lesson 24, regarding how he was able to give you a piece of advice in Lesson 4 for Levi's Quiz Battle]

-

So the first thing that comes to mind is actually that Satan knows that Simeon wrote TSL - and that he's a big fan of literature, himself! He respects Simeon's writing abilities, as well.

And Simeon... tbh Simeon is probably the most secretive person in the entire cast, besides maybe Barbatos. Satan's whole thing is that he wears masks, but that's nothing compared to what's up with Simeon.

Simeon may even be less aware of his wrath - or perhaps he doesn't even see it as something he needs to control more, unlike Satan. I feel like they could definitely understand one another.

They have similar temperaments. Plus, look at Simeon with Luke - he is supportive, encouraging, praises his efforts.

Satan puts a lot of work into being who he is, and I think Simeon would both respect that, and I think he would sympathize, if not empathize with Satan's desire for self-discovery.

(The fact that Satan is. Basically Lucifer's rebellious but beloved son, and Simeon lowkey yearns to befriend Lucifer again, probably doesn't hurt)

Moreover, Satan actually quite enjoys discussing literature and TV shows. The three of you could probably sit down with a book, movie, or plotline and chat up a storm about it for hours on end.

You would have just the most amazing debates. Character motivations, plot details, worldbuilding stuff - Simeon has an active imagination, Satan has a logical mind, and you understand the two of them so well it's like whole new worlds open up to you.

Group dates are fun, no problem; even where they lack a common interest, they're both quite respectful and considerate, although I think Simeon might have a touch of a spiteful streak that would take Satan off gaurd.

Tit for tat, though; Satan can get Simeon back a missed date or a stolen sleepover/night, and Simeon will just chuckle and call it even.

Satan can absolutely translate Simeon's typos and texting oddities with ease. He finds it fun, even. Your group chat is surprisingly active, because of it!

You may end up with a problem on your hands with Satan mentioning some facet of technology to Simeon offhand, and then Simeon using brute-force politeness on you to guilt you into helping him figure it out.

...You'll get him for this. Watch out, Avatar of Wrath. You're not joking. He better sleep with one eye open.

It's a lot and you're going to have several talks with Satan, eventually ending in retaliation. While Satan and Simeon can curb the cycle of revenge, you and Satan absolutely will not.

(Definitely not because, like, Satan's love language is playing pranks on people. And even if it were, don't you like Simeon? Hmmm?

"There's a difference between liking someone and wanting to spend three hours explaining how to attach files to a message!")

At one point Satan taught Simeon how to use a projector and sent him over to you to learn how to edit an excel spreadsheet.

(Simeon eventually takes you both in for a lesson on "Conflict de-escalation", to which Satan pointed out that he, as a demon, shouldn't really have to take such a class.

"Fine, then. I'll just spend the next two hours alone in this classroom with Simeon. Lock the door on your way out, would you, Satan?"

"W-What are you trying to imply?"

"Not that I'm opposed, but are you sure you can still listen to the lecture while we copulate?"

"Copulate? Who calls it that? And you're going to lecture them while you do it? I'll show you how to speak during sex-"

"During sex? Just say 'fuck', mister demon, as if you don't tell me you want to make love at night-"

Satan is on you in a moment, and Simeon soon follows.

Aren't they both so very lucky that you had the foresight to lock the door?)

They both have their possessive streaks, however rarely they show them, so don't worry; Satan will eventually grow grumpy over you spending so much time with Simeon and give up the game.

In any case, you have your ups and downs, but they're mostly filled with warmth and affection.

Honestly, I think each one would prefer to have you all to himself in the bedroom. Threesomes would be a matter of it being the right place and time; if all three of you are already together and in the mood.

Neither Satan nor Simeon is the type to intrude on you when you're having an intimate moment (they've got at least that much respect for one another, since you're openly with them both).

[nsfw under the cut - reader is penetrated, gives and receives oral (genitals ambiguous)]

Satan is more competitive; he'd rather be the reason you're reduced to a moaning mess, hearing you moan with every lap of his tongue and shiver as he presses and sucks in just the way he knows you like.

Simeon, unfortunately, is on the sneaky saboteur end of the spectrum.

He's quite all right letting Satan do all the work between your legs while he coos at you with your head in his lap, tells you what a lovely, sweet human you are for him - do you perhaps want a taste?

(And maybe it's because he's an angel, but by God, Simeon's cock is utterly divine on your lips; hot and smooth and imperceptibly sweet, his release being just the same)

You can feel Satan hiss against your sex as he watches Simeon pull himself dripping from your lips - all the sounds he missed from you when you had his cock down your throat ringing in his ears.

He crawls up your body and lays fevered kisses as he goes, his own cock dragging between your legs, heavy and swollen with promise as his fingers dig into your sides.

But Simeon is an angel, after all, he's not entirely mean, so he's fully willing to finger you open for Satan, right after, of course, he has you wet those fingers with your pretty, perfect mouth.

He's so sweet, so eager to sing your praises - you could lose yourself in those lovely blue eyes, the handsome dark face that stares down at you and smiles as he pumps his fingers against your tongue and then plays it between them.

And by the time Satan nips at your neck, growls your attention away as he tugs you into a kiss, Simeon has you stretched nicely and moaning into his mouth.

At that point Satan's quite ready to shove Simeon's hand away, but he's out quickly, and he can enter you with glorious ease, sliding fully home well enough for you to melt and groan.

Simeon's happy to pet your hair and kiss your cheek as the demon has his naughty, naughty way with you.

You find yourself moaning without reservation beneath Satan as he fucks you just right, and Simeon threads a hand in yours, whispering how well you're taking him, how amazing you look when you're like this, absolutely spectacular -

And of course, Satan snatches up the other hand for himself, biting marks into you in stings that blur away all the angel's lovely words into a pleasant hum.

[corolune]

tag people you want to get to know better

thank you for tagging me, @strangesoulmates and @afewbulbsshortofatanningbed !!!

Three ships:

Any form of Yassen and Alex having to talk to each other. There’s so much to explore, whether it’s a romantic, platonic, or familial relationship…or even enemies.

Doctor/Rose in any form, though I’m quite partial to Nine, Ten, Tentoo, and Twelve. +1 if it’s multiple doctors and a bad wolf Rose!

Merlin/Morgana — unsurprising to anyone who knows me, I love how they mirror each other and there’s so many interesting ways to explore their relationship…either one of them could have turned into the other if they had made different decisions…and the ambiguity of who’s actually “good” is very interesting too! (I know the showrunners want us to think Merlin’s good and Morgana’s evil, but they both have very legitimate reasons for their allegiances, and tbh sometimes Morgana made more sense than Merlin lol)

First ever ship: hahaha I think it was Guy/Marian from BBC's Robin Hood! Or if you want to go even earlier…my first ever fanart at the age of 6 was of fox-Robin and fox-Marian from the disney version (they were in a car with balloons that said “just married” and I very thoughtfully gifted it to my neighbour (who was single lol) and told him to save it for when he gets married…he was such a sweet guy he actually hung it on his fridge for months 😆)

Last song: one of my birds loudly singing their made up song…and the other one aggressively asking him “HEY hey WHAT you doooo??”

Last movie: Balam Ji Love You — don’t judge lol. It’s ridiculous and campy but HILARIOUS, I actually had to pause the video several times to laugh 😆. Thanks to youtube’s algorithm I’ve made my way past Hindi films into regional cinema, which unfortunately doesn’t come with subtitles…but in a strange coincidence, it turns out the language of this movie (Bhojpuri) is a dialect of the same language my great-grandparents spoke! My mum used to hear it at home as a kid but never knew what it was called. SO I’ve once again roped her in to help translate (she understands like 80% of it, and it fills me with so much joy when she gets excited hearing and rediscovering a word/phrase she used to say at home with her grandparents & parents but had forgotten in the past few decades of speaking only Hindi/Urdu and English!)

Currently reading: an excel spreadsheet of project timelines and marketing goals 😭 (I haven’t read a book in so long, pls rec me funny things)

Currently watching: Tere Bin — the sets and costumes are GORGEOUS and I am so impressed with the acting, especially the male lead who has usually been a very friendly, flirty character in past dramas I’ve seen. Just look at the man in the gif below, the first time I saw him in a drama it was a comedy where he was trying to get an older lady to fall for him so he could have money and never have to go to work 😆 — he's done such a good job taking on this intense character! (I’ve paused on episode 5, because I can sense the cliffhangers coming and I’m waiting for the series to actually finish before I continue watching lol)

Currently consuming: chocolate chip cookies!

Currently craving: cherries. A few weeks ago I miraculously found some for $3/lb but they’re back to like $10/lb everywhere 😞

tagging (no pressure if you don't have the time) @yucasava @irelise @jackstarbrightisaqueen @morfoxx @wishuponadragon and anyone else who'd like to play!

[obviouslygenuinely]

Free Resources For Writers & Creators

This is a quick post of free resources that may help fandom creators (or creators in general). I’m sure many of these have been shared before. However, it doesn’t hurt to spread the word. A few quick points:

As a professional writer, I think this post will cater mostly towards writers.

I’m also a freelance photographer, so digital photography/editing/art sources are included, too.

I chose not to use any affiliate links in my post. I don’t want to profit from this, and I’m not sure that’s allowed on Tumblr anyways. 

If I’ve listed a resource I haven’t used myself, I’ve made sure to state it. 

Masterlists and/or huge resource compilations are marked with asterisks.

Alright, here we go! I hope you all find this post helpful. Happy writing/creating! 

Research

All of these are free resources for research. I use most of them for my writing jobs because they are extremely credible. These are great for making accurate references in your fics/creations. 

1. ***Research Resources For Writers***

Writer’s Write has an enormous database of research resources for writers. They are divided into 20+ categories such as:

careers

historical research

crimes and forensics

religion

Each category contains 10+ resources like websites, articles, tips, databases, and so much more. It’s the most comprehensive and organized free research tool I use.

2. PubMed

My go-to source for citing medical studies. You’ll find 30 million citations related to numerous physical and mental health issues. 

3. BioMed Central

I don’t use this website as often, but I keep it in my bookmarks. It’s similar to PubMed - great for discovering current and former medical research. 

4. Drugs.com

If you need to name a medication and/or refer to medication side effects, Drugs.com is a straightforward resource. It’s easy to navigate and understand. 

It also has a tool that lists potential medication interactions. This is really useful for accurate descriptions of med combinations. 

5. Merck Manuals Consumer Version

Merck Manuals started out in 1899 as a medical reference guide for professionals. This consumer version is really comprehensive and updated regularly. It includes definitions, studies, and more. 

6. FindLaw

If you’re writing about legal topics, FindLaw is useful for learning about laws/procedures in reader-friendly language. Categories include:

accidents/injuries

criminal law

family law (divorce, custody, etc.)

Keep in mind that laws vary based on location! You’ll often find additional links to state-related laws within articles. I do recommend double-checking state/location-based legal resources for accuracy. 

7. APA Dictionary of Psychology

This psychology dictionary is provided by the American Psychological Association. It covers 90+ areas of psychology and 25,000+ terms/definitions. 

You’ll also find links to additional psychology databases, resources, and so on. The website is updated frequently to provide updated information.

8. U.S. Bureau Of Labor Statistics

If you’re writing about a character’s job/career in the United States, this is a great source for accuracy. For any job sector, you’ll find details about

education requirements

positions in the sector

average salary for positions

what the positions entail 

I imagine there are alternatives for other countries, too! 

9. Investopedia Financial Term Dictionary

My area of expertise is personal finance; all of my writing published under my name is in this niche. I still refer to Investopedia’s dictionary for help. It’s excellent for understanding/explaining financial terms in a way that your reader can understand. 

10. MedTerms Medical Dictionary

This is the medical version of Investopedia’s dictionary. I use this source less frequently, but I find that it’s accurate and helpful. There are many similar references online if you search for “medical glossaries” or “medical dictionaries”. 

11. Domain Authority Checker

I’m not sure if this one is too helpful for fic writers, but it’s one of my most used tools. Domain authority “a search engine ranking score developed by Moz that predicts how likely a website is to rank on search engine result pages (SERPs)”.

The Wikipedia page for domain authority (DA) explains it clearly and simply. To sum it up, websites with good DA scores are considered reliable and accurate. If I cite sources in my work. I always link to sources with good DA scores. 

Writing/Editing

This section is the most thorough one. All of these are completely free tools for writing and editing any type of content. I currently use or have used all of these at some point in my career. 

1. ***List Of Free And Open-Source Software Packages***

This Wikipedia page applies to multiple categories in my post. It’s a masterpost of free and open-source software for anything and everything. Software is divided up into categories and sub-categories. Some relevant examples include:

media

networking/Internet

image editing

file management

There are hundreds of free software links on the page, so you’ll need to do a bit of browsing. Start with the categories above to find software geared towards writers/creators. 

2. OpenOffice

This is a free alternative to Microsoft Office. I’ve used it for nine years and love it. OpenOffice software includes free applications for:

text documents

spreadsheets

presentations

drawing

templates

There are many more tools with OpenOffice that I haven’t used. If you write offline, I cannot recommend it enough. Tutorials are readily available online, and the software is pretty user-friendly. 

3. Evernote

I briefly used Evernote and found that it’s very user-friendly and helpful. Most of my colleagues use Evernote and recommend it for taking notes/staying organized.

(I’m personally not a fan of note-taking software or apps. My method is messy text documents with bullet point lists.)

4. Google Drive

This might seem like an obvious one, but Google Drive/Docs is my writing haven. It has the tools included with Microsoft Office and OpenOffice and then some. It’s great for collaborative writing/sharing documents, too. 

5. Grammarly

I use the Premium (paid) version of Grammarly, but I also used the free version for years. It’s helpful for detecting simple spelling, style, and grammatical errors. 

There are numerous ways to use it - desktop, copy/paste documents, and so on. I’m not a huge fan of how well it works with Google Docs, but they’re improving it/it’s moved out of beta mode. 

If you’re interested in the paid version - which I highly recommend -  wait to buy until a holiday pops up. They offer a major discount on the software for almost every holiday/special occasion. 

6. Plagiarism Detector

This website is handy for scanning for plagiarism. You can scan your own work to ensure uniqueness, too. My clients are big fans of this tool. 

(I no longer use this resource; I use a paid tool called Copyscape Premium. The low cost has a big return on investment for me.) 

7. TitleCase

The name says it all. It’s free and simple! I’ll be honest - I’m terrible with proper title case. You’d think after a decade of writing I’d nail it. However, I use this tool pretty often. 

8. Hemingway Editor

Hemingway Editor is an online and desktop editor. It’s excellent for scanning your writing to check for:

readability (a grade-level score is listed)

adverb usage

passive voice usage

complex phrase usage

estimated reading time

This tool is color-coded to make editing easy. For example, adverbs are highlighted in blue. I don’t use this as often as I used to, but it was essential for my early writing career. 

9. Polish My Writing

This tool is very straightforward. You paste your writing into the text box. Spelling errors, grammar suggestions, and style suggestions are highlighted in red, blue, and green. 

It’s great for double-checking your work alongside Grammarly or Hemingway. When using free editors, I recommend using at least two for higher accuracy. 

10. OneLook Reverse Dictionary And Thesaurus 

I’m going to use the definition directly from the website:

“This tool lets you describe a concept and get back a list of words and phrases related to that concept. Your description can be anything at all: a single word, a few words, or even a whole sentence. Type in your description and hit Enter (or select a word that shows up in the autocomplete preview) to see the related words.” 

To put it simply, you can use the reverse dictionary/thesaurus to find those words/thoughts that are on the tip of your tongue. Use the tool to:

find a word based on the word’s definition (i.e. search for “inability to feel pain”)

find synonyms and related concepts 

generate a list of category-specific words (i.e. search for “cat breeds”)

answer basic questions (i.e. search for “what is the capital of France?”)

The results can be hit or miss, but I usually find the information I’m looking for. It’s a solid resource any writer regardless of genre. 

11. Word Frequency Counter +  Phrase Frequency Counter

I cannot emphasize how much I love these tools. Repetition is the bane of a writer’s existence; it’s simply inevitable at times. 

These two tools count the number of times you use a single word or phrase in a text document. Just copy/paste your document, hit submit, and you’re all set! 

For the phrase frequency counter, you can scan for two-word to ten-word phrases. 

12. Thesaurus.com

This is another tool that might seem painfully obvious. Combined with the word frequency counter, it’s such an essential resource for me. 

It’s especially useful if you’re writing about the same topic multiple times (i.e. love, getting drunk, sex, etc.). I always use this combo of tools to ensure uniqueness. 

13. Lists Of Colors

Are you stumped when trying to come up with unique shades of blue? Is describing your character’s hair or skin color difficult? This Wikipedia page has you covered. It contains:

lists of colors (alphabetically)

lists of colors by shade

lists of Crayola crayon colors

lists of color palettes

I typically use this resource for product descriptions, but I also used it for creative writing many times. It’s a lifesaver for all things color-related.

Free Photos/Images

Tons of creators need free photos/images for numerous reasons. All of these sources provide 100% free photos, illustrations, etc. that have a Creative Commons Zero (CC0) license. This means there’s no copyright whatsoever on them. 

You can edit the images however you’d like, too. All of the images in my post are from the first source listed below. I made them black and white and added text.

(A lot of these sites have donate buttons for contributors. Donating a dollar here and there goes a long way!)

1. Unsplash

Unsplash is my personal favorite for high-resolution photos. It’s easy to navigate and has over 2,000,000 free images. Downloading an image is a one-click process, and you don’t need to create an account. 

2. Pixabay

Pixabay is my go-to site for illustrations and vector graphics (they have photos, too). There are 1.9 million free images to choose from. You don’t need an account to download images, but I recommend creating one. It’s free and with an account:

you don’t have to complete a CAPTCHA every time you download an image

you can access higher-quality/larger/etc. versions of images

I often use graphics from Pixabay to create overlays and masks for mixed media art pieces.

3. PxHere

I’ve never used PxHere, but one of my writing clients recommends it. It seems very similar to Pixabay, and the interface is user-friendly.

4. Pexels

In my limited experience, Pexels seems to focus on “artsy” stock images/content. I found great high-quality images the few times I’ve used it. 

5. Burst by Shopify

I haven’t used Burst, but it’s another free image site that a writing client recommended to me. It seems a little limited compared to the other sites, but it never hurts to add it to your toolbox!

Digital Art/Photo Editing/Etc.

This section seems brief, but the tools listed are pretty comprehensive and diverse. They are geared towards many creative needs/projects like:

Creating manips of people/etc.

Adding text to images.

Creating collages.

Digital illustration.

Advanced photo editing. 

There’s something for everyone. In my experience, finding your favorites among these will take some trial and error. 

1. Pixlr X and Pixlr E (app available)

Pixlr X and Pixlr E are both versatile free editing tools. Pixlr X is ideal for less experienced creators. Pixlr E is comparable to Adobe PhotoShop. 

I’ve used both software formats for personal and professional art projects.

The Pixlr app is handy for making collages, adding filters/overlays, adding text, and so on. I’ve used it for creating fanfiction collages and similar projects. It’s super easy to use. 

2. Remove Background by Pixlr

This is one of the easiest/fastest tools I’ve found for removing backgrounds from images. It’s perfect for creators who make manips using photos of people. 

It takes literal seconds to use. The tool automatically removes the background. If you spot any mistakes, you can refine the results with brush/erase tools. Then you download the cutout and you’re all set! 

Unfortunately, this feature isn’t available on the Pixlr app. There are a lot of smartphone apps for removing photo backgrounds.

3. GIMP

If you need a full-fledged Photoshop alternative, GIMP is excellent software.  It’s not an online tool like most I’ve suggested; you’ll need to download it to your computer. 

There’s quite a learning curve for it, unless you’re familiar with Photoshop already. Fortunately, the free video/text GIMP tutorials online are endless. I no longer use/need GIMP, but it’s a personal favorite of mine.

4. Paint.NET

Admittedly, I haven’t used Paint.NET, but my art/photography colleagues commonly mention it. It’s comparable to Photoshop and GIMP. It’s a web-based tool, and a quick Google search returns several tutorials for it. 

5. Photopea

This is more or less a Photoshop clone, but it’s free and web-based. If you watch Photoshop tutorials, you can usually follow the same steps in PhotoPea. 

I’ve only used it a few times; I have Photoshop so I don’t need it. Still, it’s very impressive - especially for a free tool.

6. PicsArt (app available)

PicsArt is a photo editing website and app; the app is much easier to use in my opinion. It’s a “fun” editing tool for photo manips, collages, and fan art in general. A lot of users post their art in the app, and I’ve noticed tons of cool fandom edits. 

Some of the features are Premium (AKA cost money), but I don’t think they’re worth the extra cost. PicsArt also has a digital drawing app. I haven’t personally used it but it may be worth checking out! 

7. Adobe Photoshop Express (app available)

(I’ll preface this by saying I have an Adobe subscription, so I have access to the “locked” features. I’ve used the free versions, but my memory of it is a bit hazy.)

Photoshop Express is a free web-based tool and smartphone app. The app is very user-friendly and can be used for detailed editing, adding filters, adding text, and so on. 

I’m less familiar with the browser version; I only use it for the cutout tool when I’m feeling lazy. It seems to be a good fit for quick edits - filters, cropping, and so on. 

8. Make PNG Transparent by Online PNG Tools

This tool is awesome for removing solid colored backgrounds. I use it to create graphics for mixed media art pieces. Here’s how it works:

upload an image

type the color your want to remove (name or hex code)

type the percentage of similar color tones you want to match (for example, 25% will remove your chosen color plus similar warm/cool tones)

the removed color is replaced with transparent pixels

If you want to make a JPG transparent, start with the website’s JPG to PNG Converter. There are a ton of useful free tools offered, but I haven’t tried out most of the others. 

Wrap Up

That’s all I’ve got for now! If I think of additional free tools, I’ll add them to this post. Feel free to reblog with your own recommendations or message me if you’d like me to add anything.

I hope my fellow creatives find these too

[loupettes]

tagged by @inkwardspots - thanks darling, I do love these! I’m going to tag @ambertea, @gingerteaonthetardis, @darth-tella, @thirdeyeblue - if you want! And anybody else who fancies, please do!

Rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 ppl who you want to know better

1. nickname: loup

2. zodiac: Taurus

3. height: 5′4 (6 ft to some, also a head hobbit model)

4. last movie i saw: the Emperor’s New Groove

5. last thing i googled: how to spell emperor

6. favourite musician: David Bowie

7. song stuck in my head: Doves - There Goes The Fear

8. other blogs: @mellarking-about​, @ambertea​

9. do i get asks: sporadically 

10. blogs following: lots

11. amount of sleep: in general, about 6/7 hours. I work best on 5-7 hours sleep, which sucks because I do love me some zzz’s.

12. lucky number: none

13. what i’m wearing: pyjamas (foxes, to be precise!)

14. dream job: forensic psychiatrist 

15. dream trip: at the moment, Paris (or Tokyo, when someone isn’t watching me write this)

16. favourite food: Bafang Yunji Dumplings, number 2 Panfried Leeks 🤤

17. play any instruments: violin

18. languages: English, French, a long-forgotten A-level German

19. favourite songs: David Bowie - The Man Who Sold The World, Boney M - Rasputin (♥️), a few more!

20. random fact: I’ve got aphantasia!

21. describe yourself as aesthetic things: I took a quiz to determine which aesthetic I am and its none of them so here are some things that sum up my personality: bougie shit, a good northern brew, excel spreadsheets, movie marathons, fizzy sweets, pretzels, corgis, otters, coffee, 90s pop, vaseline (for my feet), macarons (for my belly) 

[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part one.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. hazy opening shifts, paintings on walls, and new regulars.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language words: 8.3k

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be !)

series masterlist | story tag

a/n: first part !! i am so excited (and slightly nervous) to start and share this story i really hope everyone enjoys <3. as always, please share if you can and i would love to hear your thoughts !

There was a lot you liked about the city, especially the city in the morning.

The walk you always made to work wasn’t too long, the day still early enough that there were only a handful of people out along with you. Some joggers, some dog walkers, some people heading to work and likely some heading home.

Grateful for the sun being up before you were, the July morning already heating up the early air of the day. Feet moving you quickly through the Brooklyn Heights neighbourhood, you walked the last few blocks that led you from your apartment to the coffee shop.

The one thing you didn’t like about the summer morning, was that the air was making your eyes itch.

It was that fresh morning haze, the one that held the night’s humidity and somehow the night’s pollen as well, having you rub your nose for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning.

The sky had turned a light blue, a warm glow just rising over the buildings as you crossed the road, your hand already in your bag to fish out your keys.

Grabbing the newspaper that was placed on the street by the door, tucking it under your arm, and unlocked the door to the café. Stepping inside and promptly closing and relocking the door behind you. The air inside was stuffy and hot as it always was in the summer especially after a lack of airflow all night.

Punching in the security code, haphazardly throwing your bag and keys on the counter before shrugging off your jacket, already finding yourself feeling too hot. It was always the same path you followed, every opening shift.

Turning off the alarm, dumping your things on the counter, moving further behind the counter to turn on the iPad where POS were made, before walking into the even hotter back room to turn on the sound system. One of your playlists was already queued, soon the sound of Lizzo blasting through the shop while you moved to prep and bake the pastries.

Your body worked on auto pilot, not even having to think that much; preheating ovens and unwrapping thawing croissants. The air conditioning was slowly settling in the large space, grabbing yourself a glass of iced water to help cool yourself down.

Opening didn’t take very long; it was just the food prep that took a bit longer and needed you to come in a slightly earlier than necessary.

The café would be opening in about twenty minutes, and all you had left to do was brew the drip coffee and dial the espresso. It was always simultaneously your favourite and least favourite part of opening.

It gave you your first taste of coffee of the day, but it also meant you had to take multiple sips thus drinking too much coffee at once in the morning. Scrunching your nose at the acidic taste of the first shot you pulled, promptly dumping it out in the sink and rinsing out your mouth with some water.

Every opening shift was the same, hands moving without your mind as you pulled a few more shots, adjusting the grind of your espresso.

Two minutes until opening; you flipped through the daily newspaper and easily found the crossword, taking out the section that contained it to put it aside.

Grabbing the sign that would sit outside in one hand, you unlocked the front door and placed it on the sidewalk by the door. Moving the patio furniture that was kept inside at night, laying it out along the side of the café across the windows.

Changing your playlist as the clock changed to 7:00, the soft sounds of Leif Vollbeckk filling the space. Grabbing your laptop from your bag, hoping for a slow morning as you pulled up order forms you needed to fill out for next weeks deliveries. Filling a glass with ice, deciding to finish off the rest of the cold brew –knowing there wouldn’t be enough to fill up a cup to sell to a customer.

“Morning!”

Smiling at the sound of the familiar voice, diverting your attention from the spreadsheets on the screen to see the older man walking up towards the counter.

“You’re here early today.” Grinning, you pushed yourself away from the counter and grabbed the crossword puzzle and a pen that were put aside earlier.

“I’m going for lunch with my son later,” Dani sat himself in the plushy chair he loved so much. “I still wanted to make sure I could come in for my coffee.”

Handing him the crossword that was always saved for him, knowing he loved to get to it first.

“Let me know when you want your coffee,” you hummed, hands resting on your hips.

“I’ll take it right away today.” He told you, as you watched him reach in the paper bag he brought with him, pulling out a bagel.

He often brought his own food. You really didn’t care that he didn’t patronize the café for its food, and only the coffee. He came in nearly every day, sometimes two times in a day and he was definitely one of your favourite faces to see walk through the doors.

“I brought you some breakfast.”

Another reason why you really didn’t care was that he often brought you a little treat along with his own. He was familiar with everyone who worked with you, constantly asking about the schedule and who would be working when so he knew who to expect. But you knew that you were his favourite, and he never forgot to tell you that.

“You didn’t have to,” you smiled, as he waved off your comment and handed you your own bagel. “Thank you.”

“I know how you are in the morning, always running out of time and forgetting to eat.”

Leaving it with him at his table, making the short distance to go back behind the counter to get his coffee ready.

“It’s going to be hot out today.”

You listened as Dani spoke to you in the empty coffee shop, making the obliged daily weather talk. “I know. It was far too hot in here already when I came in.”

The big windows that didn’t have blinds acted as heaters in the morning, the rising sun shinning through them and heated up the entire coffee shop. The air conditioning that was recently turned on was starting to help with the air flow, but it was still heavy and humid around you.

Your hands working on muscle memory alone as you twisted your arm, tamping the espresso and clicking the portafilter in on the machine. Grabbing the little scale you used to weigh out the water, still early in the day and tinkering with the grind of the espresso, making slight adjustments.

Steaming the milk until you felt it hot enough, knowing Dani liked it extra extra hot no matter the time of year. Tapping the air bubbles out until you were satisfied, filling the paper cup up only halfway, just the way Dani wanted it.

“For you,” walking back to the regular customer, placing his coffee in front of him and seating yourself in the empty seat beside him.

You watched as he took a sip of the coffee, smile on his face. “Excellent as always.”

It was mostly a joke amongst everyone, that Dani would always personally review everyone’s skill at making his drink. It still gave you little ego boost every time he commented on how well you made coffee.

“I’m glad,” you said, swirling the ice around your glass before taking a long sip. You sat together for a bit, eating your bagels together while Dani told you about how his grandkids were doing.

This was probably one of your favourite parts of your job, getting to know the regulars. It was always so nice when you saw them walk in with a big smile, asking how you were doing and how things were going in your life.

Dani was obviously by far your favourite. He sometimes brought in his kids and grandkids, a big order of coffee going around as he bought everyone their drinks. He had lost his wife a couple years back, telling you that ever since then he was always looking for a new routine, and you were so happy to be a part of his daily pattern.

Your conversation was interrupted as a couple and their child walked into the shop, recognizing them as regulars as well while they waved hello to you.

Making your way back to behind the counter, putting their orders through. You knew they lived in the neighbourhood; you often saw them around. It was endearing, how often they came in for a little breakfast and coffee together with their daughter who couldn’t be older than four.

Things were starting to pick up slightly, a few other people stopping by for a coffee and breakfast to go on their way to work. You kept darting your eyes over to the big window that faced the street, checking the time over and over knowing that you had a milk delivery coming in at any time.

“Are your croissants baked in house?”

“Yes,” you nodded, not technically lying. “We get them frozen from a bakery, and we proof and bake them here every morning.”

“So are they fresh?” The middle-aged man asked, eyes glancing over to where the food sat in the display case.

“Yes,” you repeated. “They were baked this morning.”

He nodded again, pausing for a second. “I’ll just take this.” He grabbed for a muffin that sat in front of him.

You only nodded, blowing out a quiet sigh from between your lips. Already finding your patience running a bit thin this morning. Really for no particular reason, other than it would finally be your day off tomorrow.

Putting his order through, grabbing the itemized receipt for yourself so you wouldn’t forget what his drink was and bagged up his muffin.

You heard the door open, glancing up to see someone else walk through the door. “Can you make mine right away?” The man who had just ordered glanced towards the door as well, seeing the other customer walk in. “I’m in a rush.”

Only nodding, narrowing your eyes at him slightly in annoyance. If anything, him telling you that he was in a rush made you want to make his drink even slower. Still, ever the good customer service employee, you pulled the shots you needed. Steaming the soy milk and making a bit of a messy design with the milk, not quite caring about how his latte turned out.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You didn’t hide the wrinkle in your nose at the use of the pet name, the man not even noticing as he struggled to get the lid on, spilling a bit of the latte on the counter before he headed towards the door.

Plastering your fake smile on your face, going back to the till to take the order of the client who had been waiting. “Hi there, thank you for waiting.”

You glanced around the space by the register, knowing that the pen you liked the use was sitting on the counter somewhere. “What can I get for you today?”

“Do you have bulletproof coffee?” Deep accent pulling your attention away from the search for your pen, facing the man standing on the other side of the counter.

“Uh –” you paused and bit your lips together for a beat, trying not to show your distaste. “No, I’m sorry.”

“That’s too bad,” the customer hummed, craning his neck to look at the menu board that hung behind you.

Is it really though? You saw your pen tucked between two receipts on the counter next to you, gripping it between your index and middle finger.

“I think Garden Coffee might have it? They’re a couple block down.”

Pointing in general direction of the neighbouring coffeehouse, personally not finding a liking to their coffee. It was a very similar set up to where you worked, but in your opinion, they tried far too hard to mimic a trendy third wave coffee shop and came off highly pretentious.

“No, no that’s okay,” the guy smiled at you. “I’ll have an espresso. Are they doubles?”

Nodding, you put his order into the system. “All the espresso drinks come as doubles, but I can do a single if you’d like? Or a shorter shot.”

You were mindlessly flipping the pen between your fingers, eyes continuously darting out the window just knowing the milk delivery was about to arrive. “No, a double would be perfect.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Was that going to be for here or to go?”

“Here,” he nodded, opening his wallet.

“And was that going to be all for you today?” Not even fully paying attention, speaking through every line you asked customers before finalizing their order.

“Yeah – thank you.”

Telling him his total, opening the till as you dug out his change.

“Any reason you don’t have bulletproof coffee?” He brought your attention over to him again while you double checked you had the right amount of change.

It’s gross. “It’s not very popular,” you told him truthfully. “We don’t get asked for it too often either. Plus,” you tried to hide your grimace at the thought. “It’s a bit of an odd order. Not many people like it.”

He laughed at that. “Guess it is a bit of a refined taste.”

You could only nod, refined not really being the word to come to mind but you weren’t going to tell him that. Heading over to the corner where the espresso machine sat, quickly going through the same motions all over again and waited for the little mug to fill.  

Taking a sip of your water as you watched the seconds pass on the machine, the slow and steady pour of the espresso landing right into the cup.

The man who had just ordered had wandered over to where orders were to be picked up, glancing around the space. “I’ve never been here before,” he was standing opposite of the espresso machine, half of him hidden behind it. “It’s a nice place.”

“Yeah, I like it,” you nodded, not glancing up at him to stop the espresso, tapping the little cup on the counter once the pour ended. You never knew what to say when people complimented the coffee shop, saying thank you seemed a bit odd since you weren’t the owner, but any other response always sounded the slightest bit off.

“Espresso for here,” you smiled, placing the little cup on a plate, spoon next to it and slid it over to the counter towards him. He was leaning closer to the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes slightly narrowed, likely observing the paintings that hung up on that wall.

Your name was called through the café, attention being pulled away to see Dani now standing, empty cup in hand.

“Bye!” He called, waiting for you to walk to his side of the counter as he handed back the pen that you had lent him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“No,” you shook your head, watching a look of mock shock dawn Dani’s face. “Even I need a day off.”

“That’s true,” he laughed. “Get your rest, I’ll see you Saturday.”

Waving bye to him once again, attention turning to another patron that was waiting for you by the till. Another morning regular, putting their order through quickly and heading over to make it.

“How does one get their art up here?”

“Sorry?” You weren’t paying attention, small diversions all around you.

The incoming milk delivery being on the top of your list of things to think about; next to making the iced americano, cleaning up some milk you spilt, and the shrill cries coming from the toddler seated directly across from you.

“The art.” The guy who had asked about bulletproof coffee was still standing in the same spot, small mug in hand, by the series of paintings that covered the wall. “Who – I mean how could I get my art up there?”

It was a common question, but not one you could get into right away because it was just then that you saw the familiar logo on the white truck pull up across the street, signaling your milk delivery.

It was like this every week, but you hated when you were alone and this delivery came. Since it was one that you had to put away right away, and if customers came in they would get fussy because you had to be in the back, putting away all the dairy since it couldn’t exactly sit out for that long.

“Uh –” you smiled at the regular when you handed him his iced americano, turning to the other customer who had the question about the art. “Sorry, just a sec.”

Watching through the window as the delivery man made his way with a dolly packed with crates. Moving from behind the counter and taking the short walk to the front door, propping the door open for him.

Greeting him as you usually did, grabbing the order form from him to sign while he brought the dolly around the back, knowing where the milk went. Quickly signing your name at the bottom as you reviewed the order, shoving your pen back into your pocket to go fill up the back fridge with rows and rows of milk jugs.

The delivery man had already left, and you knew he was going to be coming back with more so you worked as quickly as possible, keeping an eye on the front counter to make sure there were no impatient customers waiting for you.

Stepping out of the back room, searching for the folder where you kept receipts and order forms from deliveries. Delivery man promptly returning, leaving another stack of crates for you before he headed off to use the restroom.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Jesus,” you couldn’t help the small curse at the unexpected voice and presence that made itself known next to you.

Accented voice pulling you out of your thoughts once again, seeing the bulletproof coffee man standing far too close to the inside where only staff were allowed in. Realizing he was offering to help with putting away the milk, you narrowed your eyes slightly at the odd offer of help.

“What…” you paused, fully taking in his appearance for the first time. He was young, probably around the same age as you. Brown hair that fell in floppy curls around his face, square jaw and bright eyes that completed his whole charming look.

“I’m good, thanks,” you took a step towards him, hoping he would get the hint and take a step outside of the space that was really just for staff. He seemed to catch on, watching you with a little smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, remembering he was waiting for an answer about the paintings. “I just have to –” sticking your thumb to point behind your shoulder, motioning to the dairy that was left to be put away. “I’m nearly done.”

“No worries, take your time.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit watched as you walked through the narrow back room to where the fridge sat in the back, unloading the rest of your delivery.

Finishing up, waving goodbye to the delivery man you knew very well you’d see again in a week’s time as he wheeled away empty crates on his dolly.

Searching for where you last placed your coffee and half eaten bagel, grateful to not have seen a single new customer and you added some more ice to your now watered down cold brew.

Eyes flitting over to where the bulletproof coffee drinker stood by the counter where you had left him, seeing him currently glancing at the space around him. You yanked open the messy drawer next to the till, rifling through it while you looked for the business cards you knew you kept somewhere deep down.

“Here,” grabbing the attention of the man who was observing paintings on the other wall, leaving the inside from behind the counter, to the open floor of the café.

He turned around to face you, eyes dropping down to the card you extended out to him. “The art doesn’t go through us. This woman here,” you motioned to the card. “She runs it, in a few coffee shops actually.”

You had only met Janeen a handful of times – when the art got switched out and a couple other times when she came in for a coffee. She was probably in her late fifties, a painter herself.

“Some of the art up right now is actually hers,” you glanced around, pointing to a few you were fairly certain belonged to Janeen, all for sale.

“Great thank you.” He gripped the card between his fingers, eyebrow furrowing slightly as his eyes skimmed over the name and email on Janeen’s card. He really must be an artist. Catching what you assumed was dried paint on his hands, the deep blue swiped over his skin standing out.

“Do you know how I should like, submit art to her? Or if there’s a process or anything?”

“I don’t, sorry,” offering him a small sympathetic smile. “It’s out of our hands, best bet would be to talk to Janeen about it.”

“Is there a manger I could ask?” He was glancing behind you as if you weren’t working alone.

Narrowing your eyes at him, knowing it was an easy mistake and was not at all meant to be a rude comment towards you, but for some reason you found yourself so socially exhausted so early in the morning.

“I am the manger.”

It came out a bit harsher than intended, but you didn’t care too much by this point. You saw his eyes visibly widen, mouth part slightly. “Oh -” tripping over his words as he held your narrowed gaze. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean anything –”

He was cut off, saved by the bell if you will, to a group of young women walking through the door which meant you had to excuse yourself and head back behind the counter.

Mind drifting as you took their orders, feeling slightly peeved with the way the conversation with the apparent artist went. You knew you shouldn’t take it personally, customer’s said things all the time that really shouldn’t be taken seriously.

But it was small things like that, that had your mind trickling down a drain of will I ever be taken seriously and what am I doing with my life.

You loved your job, for the most part at least, you really did. But there was always that little voice of doubt inside of you, telling you that you weren’t doing enough with your life.

And when someone seemed to doubt the things you accomplished in life, it left a bad taste in your mouth and an unhealthy train of thoughts bringing your mood down.

At its core, it was pretty dumb to be irked by a comment asking for the manager. It was obviously because as the manager, you felt like maybe your position wasn’t well deserved, or like it shouldn’t be what you’re doing.

After making two iced mochas, cleaning up the small mess of spilt chocolate on the counter before digging out the folder where order forms were a bit haphazardly placed. Deciding now was the best time as ever to start putting them in order.

Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just barely past 8:30. You realized you still had about six hours left on your shift. Your eyes quickly shifted around the shop, seeing mostly empty tables as most of the morning customers got their orders to go. There weren’t any dishes pilled up anywhere, not yet at least.

The man who had been asking you about the art seemed to be finally seated, hunched over a table in the corner with a little book in front of him, twirling a pencil between his fingers the same way you did. You felt a bit bad for snapping at him, but you didn’t feel like entertaining conversation with him again.

Heading to the back room again, deciding that soft indie guitar wasn’t really the mood anymore, you changed your playlist once again.

A soft sigh left your mouth again, already feeling done with this day. You don’t really know why you felt so on edge. It was likely because today was the last day before a day off, after working a long stretch of shifts without much of a break.

Hours trickled by, the day never really picking up with just a slow stream of customers coming in. It gave you time to finalize the upcoming weeks schedule, sending it out to the rest of the staff.

It was just before one o’clock when Aleena came in, bright smile on her face when she greeted you.

Aleena as by far your favourite co-worker. She was in her mid thirties and was an absolute sweetheart. She was, for lack of a better term, your work wife.

When the both of you worked together you were always on the same page, not having to talk to know what the other one was thinking. The two of you would take turns bringing each other lunch, or snacks, or just little treats for each other.

“How has today been?” Joining her in the back room, shooting a glance to the front to make sure no customers were coming in.

“Hey Leena! It’s been okay,” you shrugged, watching her hang up her purse. “Pretty slow, which is kind of nice. I’m just,” you blew out a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time. “Tired today. I don’t really feel like talking to customers.”

She offered you a sympathetic smile. “You’re off tomorrow, yeah? Hope you have the time to relax, and see your friends.”

“I am! I’m seeing Mae tomorrow, she managed to get the day off too.”

“That’ll be good! You know if its slow it’s okay if you want to leave early today.”

You had an hour left on your shift, a small overlap between workers. It was unusual, to have one person working alone all day. Usually one person opened and then was joined by another later in the day, and the two people would close together with some staff changes in the middle of the day.

But with a last minute shift change due to someone getting food poisoning, you spent all day alone and Aleena would be closing alone. You had offered to come back in later in the day to help her close, since it was a bit of a feat to do alone, but she has insistently refused and said you needed your time off.

“I think I might…” you smiled at her. “If you’re okay here! I doubt it’ll pick up, the sales today have been really low.”

“Of course,” she waved you off. “Go, go. I’ll be okay.”

Forever grateful for Aleena, wrapping her in a little side hug as you bid your goodbyes and promised you’d bring her some baked treats next time to thank her.

“Oh! And the schedule is out, and I’ve already done the ordering for next week so there’s nothing else to worry about. Take it easy today.”

Gathering up your things and making yourself some iced tea for the road, swinging your bag over your shoulder and dreaming of the next day and a half of putting your feet up, and seeing your friends, not giving the shop one more look now that you were off.

You were never really one for routines.

Rather, you weren’t really one to be setting routines, instead letting them work into place for you. In a sense, you still really didn’t a set routine, forever slightly disorganized.

Your weekly schedule was always a bit different, depending on the shifts you had. Sometimes it would be the same ones for weeks on end, being able to find a good groove with them.

But that never lasted. You didn’t mind though, always saying that you were just taking life as it came.

The one big consistency was the walk from your front door to behind the counter at work. No matter the time of day, it was always the same. Walking the steps down from your building and out to the street, sometimes taking your time and sometimes your pace quick.

And when you opened the door to work, you would head to the back room first, take a few seconds, and then face the rest of your day.

This Saturday was no different at all.

Waving hello to your, after the much needed day off, shutting the door to the staff room behind you for a second of peace before the long shift started.

“How’s the day been?” After taking a minute by yourself, you walked out and stopped to ask one of your coworkers, Erinne, about the sales so far.

“Busy,” she sighed, turning away from the till to face you. “Finally slowed down for a bit, but I’m sure it’ll be the same this afternoon.”

You only nodded, glancing around the space to see Aleena and another colleague, Noah, working on bar. They were cleaning up grounds that littered the counter and arranging milk in the small fridge underneath the bar.

Signs of a rush that hit the café, the quick clean up that was needed before another wave of people came in.  

“Well, I’m off.” Erinne said from next to you, clocking out of the system.

You didn’t have a single bad thing to say about any of your coworkers, or least you pretended that you didn’t. When you became manager, you knew that you were no longer able to gossip too much or talk about baristas you didn’t like.

Still, you couldn’t help but slightly dislike Erinne. She showed no sign of ever really listening to you, only doing half a job even when you reminded her to finish her duties.

“Have a good rest of your day,” you smiled to her, watching her reach for her phone that was in her back pocket as she headed to the back to grab her things.

Walking over to the back, greeting Aleena and Noah, promptly making yourself a drink to get a little caffeine boost. “How was your day off?”

“Really good,” you nodded, smacking your lips at the slightly bitter espresso, making a mental note to double check that later.

Filling in Aleena on your day off, before the conversation was ultimately interrupted by a group coming in. She went to the till, taking their orders while Noah stayed on bar to make the drinks. You saw them not needing that much help, no yet anyway, deciding to grab the dish bin to collect the emptied mugs you spotted left behind on tables.

Walking to the back of the shop first, finding a few mugs stacked and abandoned. Propping the dish bin against your hip, gathering up the dishes to be cleaned. Eyeing over seated customers, catching snippets of their conversations as you walked by.

Your eyes fell to a table tucked in the corner, recognizing the man who had been asking you about who to contact in relation the paintings on that hung on the wall. He had the same black book in front of him, pencils laid out around the table with one in hand, tapping it against the table.

He glanced up at you seemingly when you walked by, eyes flitting over to yours. He sent you a small smile as you bussed the table across from his, your eyes briefly leaving his to glance up to the front of the café, making sure the line wasn’t that long.

“I emailed Janeen.”

His voice pulled your attention back to him, as you picked up the buss bin again, not seeing any more dirty dishes that needed to be run through the dishwasher. He was obviously talking to you.

“That’s good,” you didn’t know what else to say.

He put down the pencil he was tapping against the table, closing the book in front of him. “I – I’m sorry about the other day –”

You were nearly embarrassed about snapping at him. Shrugging as your lips twitched to a little smile, gaze falling over the table in front of him. He had another espresso in front of him, this time over ice. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I didn’t mean it like – you couldn’t be manager or anything. Just –” he motioned with his hands, as if replacing his words. “Looking to get some more exposure for my art.”

“Is a little coffee shop really the best exposure?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“That’s fair.” Assuming the conversation was over, glancing back up to see Aleena taking someone’s order.

“How long have you been working here?”

“Hm? Over two years now.” Glancing back at him, hearing the door opening and most likely welcoming more paying customers.

“That’s a while,” he nodded, shifting in his chair again.

You nodded absentmindedly, seeing two large groups walk in the café, knowing you needed to head over to work behind the counter. “Sorry – I need to head back.”

“Of course,” he sat back again. “Sorry again.”

The sound of your name on his lips stopped you in your tracks. You turned back towards him, brow furrowed and mouth slightly gaped open.

“Heard a customer say your name last time,” he spoke before you could ask how he knew your name. “I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” words mumbled, quick nod in his direction before you were walking back towards the counter with your dish bin in hand.

It wasn’t uncommon, that customers would learn your name. No one wore nametags, so it gave a slight ounce of anonymity.

Obviously, regulars like Dani got to know you pretty well.

But it wasn’t all of them. Some customers would introduce themselves to you and ask for your name even though you swore you’d only seen them once, and some would come in everyday without the slightest inclination of wanting to get to know you.

Harry watched you walk away, disappearing to the back room before he heard a loud clang of dishes, assuming you set down the bin that you had been holding. He saw you reappear again, quickly walking over to the register and putting a hand on your coworkers’ shoulder, telling her something.

He looked around the coffee shop again, glancing at the paintings that decorated the walls. He had already taken his time to look at each and every one, nearly all of them by the same artist. They were all beach scenes, the talent of the artist very apparent in the way that they painted the reflections off the water.

Though the only one that really stood out to Harry was one depicting a sunset, bright oranges and reds filling the entire frame.

He glanced down to his own orange coloured pencil in hand, the haphazard shapes and scribbles that were on the page in front of him. He hadn’t made much progress as he tried to plan out his next series. All he knew is that he was currently very drawn to orange, tangerine to be exact, and that he wanted this next series to be big.

He still had yet to find it, the small idea that would start to form in the back of his mind that would grow into something huge. His inspiration usually came from little mundane ideas, liking to take his time to observe everything around him.

The warm glow from the sun cast through the windows, the harsh hiss of the steam wand from the espresso machine, the crumbs that fell around a child eating their croissant.

He took the last sip of his coffee, crunching the spare bits of ice that fell out of the cup and under his teeth.

Sketching random faces he saw around him, eyes moving all around the space. Gaze flitting over to where he saw you reappear for a very brief second, placing a now empty dish bin out for customers to fill, before spinning way and disappearing from his line of sight again.

The scuffed white floor wasn’t one that was particularly nice, per se, but it gave a feeling that this shop was lived in and well frequented. There was one wall that was all wood, with little shelves lined against it. Potted plants and random books placed on the shelves, next to a little sign that read “take a book, leave a book”.

He had no idea how he’d never seen this café. He must have passed it a few times at least, never really noticing it until the other morning when he walked a different route.

It was big and open, but still felt warm. The ambiance inside wasn’t stiff or off-putting, instead it was inviting and bright.

Even on a day like today, where the lineup at the register never really seemed to go away, there was a calmness in the air and not intensity or stress.

Which is why he came back a couple days later, bright and early on Monday morning. He realized it was a slight oversight on his part, getting there a bit too early, before the doors were even unlocked.

Seeing as he had about ten minutes to kill, deciding to take another walk around the block while he waited. Going down the street and walking past the shop, squinting lightly to gaze through the windows.

Harry saw you at the counter, gloved hands holding a knife as you carefully sliced a loaf, one he assumed to be banana bread. Your eyebrows were lightly drawn together, concentrating on the task at hand.

Amused to see you grab what appeared to be a thinner piece away from the others, breaking off a corner and popping it into your mouth. He didn’t realize he had stopped walking, until your attention diverted away from the cutting board in front of you and up out the window.

He immediately heated up as your eyes found his, embarrassed to be found watching you through the window. He was already certain he hadn’t made a great impression on you, and this wasn’t really helping his case.

Your lips moved in a small smile, eyes darting away from his for a beat. He followed your gaze, assuming you were looking up at the clock that hung on the wall.

The next time he glanced at you, you had placed the knife on the cutting board and were walking around the counter until you reach the door to his left.

“Were you waiting to come in, or?”

Propping the door open a bit, waiting as Harry walked the few needed steps over to you. “Yeah! I know you’re not open yet so –”

You moved aside, keeping the door open. “You can wait inside, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” he said, after a slight pause. He was a bit shocked to have you inviting him in like this even with only a few minutes left until the shop opened.

“Yeah, no worries,” you closed the door behind him after he walked in. “Although,” you spoke again, already walking back to the counter. “I won’t serve you for another eight minutes.”

He could hear a small smile in your voice, even with your back turned to him. He only laughed in response, putting his bag down at the same table he sat at last time, secluded and tucked away in the corner and with the sun’s rays hitting the wall next to it.

Suddenly the music around him changed, mood going from loud and upbeat, to soft and soothing with what seemed like the volume being turned down quite a bit. Harry couldn’t see you form where he sat, but he heard the occasional tap turning on and whir of a coffee grinder.

He waited a bit longer, making sure it was past seven before he walked up to the register. You were standing in front of the espresso machine, swirling a little clear glass a couple times before you took a sip.

“Espresso this morning?”

You hadn’t moved from your spot, taking another little sip from the glass in hand.

“Please,” grabbing his wallet from his pocket, digging through for some folded bills. You walked the short distance to the till, standing in front of him with the counter separating the two of you.

Wordlessly grabbing the money from the counter, putting the order through and counting up the change. “Oh, keep the change.” He smiled, refusing your extended hand.

“Thank you,” you murmured, palm opening to let the coins fall into the tip jar in front of you.

He followed you, from opposite sides of the counter as you moved to the back where the espresso machine sat. “It might be a bit bitter,” your voice cut through the shop. “I’m still adjusting it a bit, so let me know if its no good.”

“Will do,” Harry nodded, hearing the whir of the grinder as you prepared his coffee. He didn’t know why he was suddenly finding himself so unsure of what to say to you, very aware of the emptiness of the shop.

A beat of silence passed, the only noise in the shop coming from the music blaring through the speakers. He’d never heard it before, quickly finding a liking to whatever you were playing.

“Have you heard from Janeen?”

The question took him aback slightly. “No, not yet anyway.”

You hummed from behind the counter, tapping the cup on the counter like you had last time, before placing it on a little plate and sliding it over to him. “I think they’re changing the current painting’s soon. She’ll for sure be in for that so I can ask her about it if you’d like.”

He beamed. “That would be great! Thank you.”

Getting a taste of the coffee you had just made him. “It’s good,” he nodded. “Not too bitter.”

Another moment of silence fell, and that would be when Harry should’ve grabbed his coffee and walked away but for some reason, he didn’t want to leave the counter just yet.

You broke the silence again. “You’re here really early for a sit-down coffee, and not a to go.”

“Is that odd?” Harry was curious of why you brought it up.

“I mean,” you only shrugged, moving from where you stood to do something behind the espresso machine he couldn’t quite see. “Not really but – usually early morning regulars who get coffee for here are above the age of sixty. At a minimum.”

Harry laughed, watching you fiddle with the blue mugs that sat on top of the machine. “I’m just up early I guess. I like the sunrise.”

You smiled in return, and Harry thought that maybe he hadn’t made that bad of an impression on you after all. He didn’t know why he was so suddenly drawn to this café, drawn to spending his free time here, but he warmed when you mirrored his grin.

But when he heard the door open behind him, and you moved to greet the customer that came in, he realized that it was simply your job to be nice to him.

“Someone’s here before me!”

Harry recognized the older man from the other day, the one who had called out your name when he said bye to you.

“I thought I got the first coffee of the day?”

You laughed, grabbing a cup from where they sat stacked. “You didn’t get the first, but you get the best.”

Moving to make Dani’s drink, pulling a shot and steaming the extra hot milk, bringing the cup over once the drink was made to where he sat at his usual table.

Harry had gone to sit back down, once again hunched over a black book with a pencil twirling between his fingers.

You took your time to fully notice his appearance. He loose fit blue jeans, with an off-white teeshirt that read something you didn’t quite catch, slightly tucked in. You had never fully noticed the tattoos that covered one of his arms before, only briefly catching glances of them but in this moment, they seemed to stand out even more.

His hair was falling over his forehead as he leant over the table, and you couldn’t help but admire the clear cut of this jaw that was apparent to you as you gazed at his profile. Your eyes fell back to his hands, fingers toying with a pencil. Even from slightly further back, you could see some green splotches of paint on his skin.

You were slightly curious to what he was doing.

Always a bit nosy, especially with customers that you recognized to come in more than once. Whether they were writing a novel, reading a book, working from home; you liked to see what people would come in to do.

Both you and Aleena loved to discuss the personal lives of regulars, mapping out your own stories for the lives your customers lived. Based off who they came in with and small tidbits they would share with you.

You liked to think that you were good at reading people, and that you could more or less understand people just based off small interactions.

It was obvious to you that Harry was going to become a new regular. He had already come in three times in the past five days.

You wished you weren’t working alone, because you found yourself needing to talk to someone about him. Although you knew nearly nothing about him. Only the fact that he for some reason liked bulletproof coffee, that he was an artist, and that he liked to wear vans.

Another thing you did know, was that making him his coffee was going to become part of your work routine.

He always ordered an espresso, sometimes over ice. From the few times that you walked past his table and stole quick glances at the sketchbook that he always carried, he seemed to be working on bright colourful sketches. Always using pencil crayons, and never pencils or pens.

He had become such a quick new regular, that even Dani was talking to him. The both of them often came in the earliest out of anyone else.

In the past three weeks, he had come in nearly every day that you were working. He usually came in bright and early, right after the doors were unlocked and would seat himself comfortably in the back.

On the days when you weren’t opening and would stay to close, he was already there and would leave sometime in the afternoon. A few times he came in later in the day, staying close to closing as the coffee shop emptied out.

He had kept asking you about Janeen, and if he could get his art up on the walls one day. You had seen her one day when he wasn’t there, briefly asking her about the process of how she decided about who’s art went where.

You knew that her little painting rotation ran in a few other shops around town. She said that she wasn’t looking for anything new for a bit, but she was keeping all the submissions she got on file.

“Did she say when she would start looking again?”

“No,” you shook your head, after repeating what Janeen had told you to Harry the next time you saw him. “Sorry. But I’m sure it shouldn’t be too long.”

Harry nodded, glancing down at the glass of water between his hands that he had gone up to grab, before you went up to him with the news from your talk with Janeen.

“Why isn’t it run through you guys?”

“What?”

“I mean,” Harry paused. “I’m just curious about how it works. Why is it Janeen who does all the art if she has nothing to do with this café?”

“Honestly I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. “The owner set it up with her, long before I started.”

“Oh okay,” he nodded. “It’s a neat thing, to have local art for sale like this.”

“It is,” you glanced at the art. “But honestly we don’t sell them very often. I think only two or three times in my time here I’ve seen one sold.”

That surprised Harry. “Really? I mean, I guess people don’t come for coffee to buy a painting. Still, it adds a nice atmosphere to the café.” He paused, watching your lips quirk up to a smile. “Would be nice to have my own art up, but…”

Your eyes narrowed on him slightly. “Can I see this art? That you so urgently need to put up in here?”

He tried to stop the beaming smile that was building, biting his lips together for a second. For once feeling like it wasn’t him incessantly asking you something or bugging you, this time you asking him something about himself.

“No,” he heard himself saying, watching your eyebrows jolt up in surprise.

“No?”

His smile was sly, idea forming. He quickly walked back to his table and ripped out a small piece of paper from his sketchbook. He turned back around, seeing you hadn’t moved from your spot by the register.

“Here,” he said once he returned to his side of the counter where he had left you. “I have a few pieces up in a show next week. It’s just for one night, at a little gallery downtown.”

Writing down the date of the show and the name of gallery, he handed the scrap paper over to you. “You should come.” 

[ddarker-dreams]

You said that SR can speak, yes? To me, she looks like the type that would normally prefer to be silent. So I bet it really shocked the gang when she spoke for the first time around them. Her first words must have been to SR reader tho. ( I'm talking like she's a baby 😅) I wonder, what does her voice sound like?

Yes, Scarlet Ribbons can speak!! Just like you said though, she prefers to observe rather than verbalize her thoughts. Reader speaks enough here SR doesn’t feel it’s necessary for her to chime in too. It becomes a bit of a rumor for a while, as Mista swore he heard SR speaking once. No one believes him. When he tries to ask you about it, you end up shrugging it off. I kinda imagine her as having a singsong voice to match her personality. Something like this, though a tad deeper. My former idol loving roots might be showing now ,, 

anon 2 said: My entire family speaks spanish,and Italian and spanish are actually very similar,so im afraid that my family wouldn't be too troubled by the language barrier.Those embarrassing stories are gonna get across RIP 😪😭😔. Tho,I bet narancia,(best boy) would be so surprised. ("You can speak 3 languages?!)

Ohh there would hardly be a language barrier in that case! Even more of a prime opportunity to learn more about Reader, since everyone can openly communicate with one another. Narancia is definitely going to be impressed... he thought speaking two languages is amazing, but you can speak three? Color him surprised ,, he’s gonna try and learn them too! 

anon 3 said: Reading that ask about the gang trying to impress SR readers grandparents--- I'm also from NY and we have some GREAT pizza. A few horrible ones, but I've tasted some good pizza. Narancia insulting NY pizza would get me so fired up lol. I would have a whole ass debate with that boy over which pizza is better.

Narancia wouldn’t know what he’s talking about tbh . He’s extremely biased towards his favorite pizza that he’s grown up with, and is gonna make it his personal mission to convince you. You’ll never see him so riled up over a trivial matter. He’d be making excel spreadsheets and charts if he was capable of it, doodling on a piece of paper will have to suffice for now. Narancia is determined once he gets something on his mind, so he’s not letting this go. At least he has an excuse to take you out on more pizza dates under the guise of wanting to prove his point . He’s a little genius.

anon 4 asked: Does SR reader ever like to sing some of her favorite songs out loud? Does she ever get caught reenacting some of her favorite singers' moves?

Okay so since we’ve already established this is a v self indulgent series YOU KNOW that Reader is gonna have a nice singing voice. My idea for this Reader is that she’s very artsy focused, you can kinda decide for yourself what areas you’d prefer, but I was thinking she’d enjoy singing, dance, and traditional art. For her singing I picture something like this, clear and sweet sounding. Fugo has caught her singing the most, but rarely brings it up, preferring to listen before leaving with a little smile on his face. Narancia also catches her humming!! 

anon 5 asked: With SR reader in the team would she be the one to start calling Giorno 'giogio'?

I could see that happening! Giorno makes it clear in Purple Haze Feedback that he doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes that Diavolo made. He wants to have closer connections to people, and eliminate some formalities. Reader already has a habit of giving her teammates nicknames (Abba, Nara, Panna...), so GioGio is up next. She has to stop herself from saying it in professional settings though.

anon 6 said: Your post about the Bucci gang in the states was WONDERFUL! I love the idea of Giorno just trying to escape on a one on one date with the reader but everyone else is making it impossible :((

THANK U !! I had so much fun with it. Giorno still intends on making the best of it in the end lmao. Any trips abroad like that would have to be on the basis of business, Reader’s presence just an additional bonus. So he’s already grateful that she’s here. He’s still one of the best at getting meaningful alone time with her once he moves to the courting process.

anon 7 said: Bruh, I would LOVE you to write the Chariot Requiem with SR reader and Giorno switching! And I ADORED what you said about the gang visiting the states I NEED MORE OF THAT (personally I’m from Arkansas and there’s literally NOTHING there, but I LOVE the east coast)

I want to write that scene still!! It feels somewhat difficult since I only have a few vague ideas of what I want, but I’ll keep thinking about it more... For the team visiting the states I swore I wasn’t going to go ham but I ended up going Ham... and it was really fun actually !! The east coast actually has a lot of fun things to do, and a lot of the members would want to explore around there.

anon 8 said: SR is an affectionate stand, right? Imagine waking up with a kiss from her! That would be soooooo cute. Anyone on the team would die happily from that.

She is a very affectionate Stand,, much to the minor misfortune of Reader. Fugo has woken up to SR just staring at him. Neither of you knows why she does it, but she seems to like observing your teammates. It’s gonna end up being Bruno that gets a little forehead kiss... since without him, you never would’ve awoken your Stand. Or it would’ve at least taken a lot longer. Bruno never mentions it to you, it’s a secret between them. 🥺

anon 9 said: I was thinking about the SR being part of La squadra proposed by the other anon and thought it would be really cool if SR ended up joining up with the Bucci gang after Risotto dies to get the info that the boss is two people to them. To get revenge for the rest of her teammates because although buccillati and his gang did the killing mostly, it was the boss who started it and was the one responsible, the bucci gang were just the tools used. Could be a good scenario for a darker/hardened SR readr

Ohh that’s an interesting AU type of idea!! Darker SR Reader... maybe her color palette changes to to match? I picked bright red as being a reoccurring theme since it’s often associated with passion and love, and that seemed to fit her. So maybe Scarlet Ribbons is monochrome instead here. And black iris’?? And black ribbons... now I kinda wanna doodle a dark Scarlet Ribbons for fun . She goes >:( instead of >:)

[atomicnerdsheep]

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Step 1: Download the Install

Once you download the 2.6GB file to your downloads folder, click on the Office Preview Package to get started. You will be guided through the necessary steps to install this software.

Tip: I had to upgrade my OS X because you can't install Office for Mac with any version of OS X below 10.10. To see my tutorial on how to upgrade your OS X go here.

I also had some internet interruptions on my initial download to my downloads folder and had a hard time opening the package because it did not download the full 2.6GB. Make sure that you fully downloaded the package.

Step 2: Read and Agree to Licensing Agreement

The software license agreement comes in many languages, this one in English. Once you read the agreement, you will have scrolled to the bottom. Click continue to agree.

Step 3: Agree to the License Agreement to Begin Installation

You will then be prompted to agree. Once you do you will select what users of your computer will have access to the software to select the destination for install. You will need 5.62GB of free space to install. Select and click continue.

Step 4: Install Office for Mac

I want all users of my computer to be able to access Office and made sure to have the available space. Now I am ready to install. I click install. I had to wait a few moments for the installation to complete. Then I was notified that the installation was successful. And my installation is complete.

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Microsoft Office 2016 for Mac free. download full version is a must-have productivity and business suite with its complete set of applications. It’s used by most company and education institution throughout the world. Even though there are many alternatives, this software used by more than 1 billion PC computers in the world. Recently, Microsoft unveiled Office for iOS, which runs on iPhones and iPads and also Microsoft office to the mac device such as MacBook Pro and iMac. Anyone with one of these devices can open, edit and save any MS Office documents (Word), spreadsheets (Excel), and PowerPoint presentations within windows and mac freely. Amazing right?

It has all of the features and tools, exactly the same as the windows version. Yet there are changes with the design and features interface, although it doesn’t really of much difference. Do you want to try this software before buying it officially? Download microsoft office 2016 for mac free down below for MacOS Mojave.

Microsoft Office for Mac 2016 Features

Additional Ribbon Buttons

Enhanced Collaboration between application

New Outlook Mentions

New and Improved Connection Options for Excel

You can now publish your file directly to docs.com

There’s even another publishing online features to Power BI

All new ms word researcher toolbar

There’s a new “suggest a feature” button on the file > feedback

All new text highlighter

Powerpoint now can zoom with a new toolbar

Skype new integration

Support MacOSS Mojave

Office 2016 Mac System Requirements :

Mac computer with an Intel processor

Mac OS X version 10.10

Recommended 1 GB of RAM

5,62 GB of free hard disk space

Hard disk formatting such as HFS + (also known as Mac OS Extended or HFS Plus)

A monitor with 1280×800 resolution or higher

Recommended Safari 7

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Mac users must Disable SIP and Allow Apps From Anywhere

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Enjoy!

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[righthererightzao]

Character Survey: Fejika Menajika

RULES: Repost, do not reblog. Tag 10 blogs!

Tagged by: @herd-of-halla​ and @locke-rinannis​ Tagging: @ffxiv-ofthewhite @thegildenheart @meredvai @eggplant-xaela @vysaldhe @bexli-nelhah @bloodsworn-marshal @chidorifarcloud @ffxivtribehydrae @lalafellow​

B A S I C S .

FULL NAME:  Fejika Menajika NICKNAME(S): That Little Bastard. AGE: 37 BIRTHDAY: 17th Sun of the 2nd Astral Moon (17th March.) ETHNIC GROUP: Lalafell, Plainsfolk NATIONALITY: Ul’dah LANGUAGE(S) : Common (Gobbiespeak), Goblin. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Caedoromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. HOME TOWN/AREA: Ul’Dah. CURRENT HOME: The Midnight Bastion, The Mists. PROFESSION: Void Hunter, Mercenary.

P H Y S I C A L .

HAIR: Ginger. EYES: Blue FACE: Round LIPS: Thin. COMPLEXION: Medium. BLEMISHES: None. SCARS: Cross shaped scar covering face, rest of body below neck is covered in burn scars that cuts off at their hands and feet. TATTOOS: None. HEIGHT:  3 fulms 3 ilms  WEIGHT: Above average. BUILD: Muscular. FEATURES: Heavily scarred, missing left eye, long pointed ears. ALLERGIES: Pollen. USUAL HAIR STYLE: Short, patches missing on right side where hair is unable to grow back properly. USUAL FACE LOOK: Fejika can be often found with a puckish grin splitting their scarred features. USUAL CLOTHING: Eyepatch, Red smoking jacket, bandages wrapped around hands to obfuscate burn scars.

P S Y C H O L O G Y .

FEAR(S): Fire, Failure. ASPIRATION(S): To protect those they care about. POSITIVE TRAITS: Loyal, Energetic, Expressive.  NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive, Impatient, Stubborn. MBTI:  ESFP-T (“The Entertainer”) ZODIAC: Pisces. TEMPERAMENT: Guardian. SOUL TYPE(S): Warrior. ANIMAL(S): Lion. VICE HABIT(S): Drinking. FAITH: Fejika prefers to put their faith something tangible rather than gods. GHOSTS?: Yes. AFTERLIFE?: They aren’t all too sure. Fejika doesn’t give it too much thought. REINCARNATION?: They hope so, as they would love nothing more than to be given a fresh start with their fiance before the Calamity took him. ALIENS?: Sure, why not? it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing Fejika has come across. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Apolitical. EDUCATION LEVEL: Home tutored.

FATHER: Torphin Burrows. MOTHERS:  Tapara Tapa. SIBLINGS: Sorora Soro. EXTENDED FAMILY: A small band of Goblins who took them in after the Calamity. NAME MEANING(S):  None HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None

F A V O R I T E S .

BOOK: None Fejika cannot read. DEITY: None. HOLIDAY: All Saints Wake. MONTH: October. SEASON: Autumn. PLACE: Coerthas Highlands. WEATHER: Snow, blizzards. SOUND(S): Loud, bombastic music. SCENT(S): Forge, . TASTE(S): Ale, Snurbleberry. FEEL(S): Snow crunching underfoot, a mug ale in hand. ANIMAL(S): Birds NUMBER(S): 8. COLOR(S): Red.

E X T R A .

TALENT(S): Strength, Juggling. BAD AT: Keeping a level head in stressful situations, thinking before they speak. TURN ONS: None. TURN OFFS: See above. HOBBIES: Camping, Homebreweing, Blacksmithing, Weight Training. TROPES:  Drowning My Sorrows  Face of a Thug Hates Being Touched Mr Vice Guy QUOTE(S): “Fejika will not fail anyone else. Fejika will protect!”

M U N   Q U E S T I O N S .

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1:  Hmmm... I’d call it Firebrand, as for the style of film, I’d imagine something similar to Park Chan-Wook’s Oldboy, following Fejika from their life as a Brass Blade, leading to them taking on the name of their deceased Fiance after the Calamity and taking revenge against his murderers, whilst also trying to reconnect with a world that they barely even understand.

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like? A2: Something mechanical and aggressive, with a fast tempo.

Q3: Why did you start writing this character? A3: Fejika serves as the Yang to my main’s Ying. While they are of the same coin, Fejika alows me to explore things in a completely different manner to Zaoka while both strive to protect the ones they care about.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character? A4: Despite their damages, Fejika is a fairly carefree character who tries to live in the moment and enjoy themselves as much as they can that’s something I wish I could do myself.

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5: It’s not really a major thing but given their speech patterns, I have to keep a lexicon handy for Gobbietalk, and it can get a little tedious having to swap between the game window and an excel spreadsheet I have set up.

Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?           A6: We both love Goblins.

Q7: How does your muse feel about you? A7: Can’t really answer this one, I rarely think about Muse/Mun interactions.

Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8: Characters that can prove to be foils to Fejika’s antics often make for the best interactions.

Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse? A9: I’m largely driven by music, so I will always find different tracks to convey a scene that suits both the character and what they are doing.

Q10: How long did this take you to complete? A10: About two hours.. The movie question stumped me a bit and I fear it’ll do the same for Zaoka’s entry

[hello123deutschus-blog]

Learn German Online In 30 Days

How I Learned German in 30 Days

This post is my summary of an experiment that I started in January 2015: learn German in 30 days.

Before I begin, I feel compelled to list some resignations:

"I learned German" means that I can have basic conversations in German, as well as understand German quite well (both written and spoken). I definitely have not learned to speak German perfectly.

I do not claim originality of everything in this text; I have been very inspired by the writings of other language students, such as Barry Farber and Benny Lewis.

My mother tongue is Norwegian. This gave me an advantage, since it is closely related linguistically to German.

If you want to learn a language as quickly as possible, you must continue reading. In addition to giving some general advice and, hopefully, inspiration, I have created some resources that I will share in this text that will help you learn German quickly.

I spent between 30 and 60 minutes a day in my 30-day period, so the time investment was not huge.

Now, let's start.

Five principles of effective language learning

I had the hypothesis that there are five important principles to learn a language effectively. One of the purposes of my experiment was to test if these were good. The five principles are:

Set a clear goal

Speak from day 1

Focus on frequent words

Immerse yourself

Track

Below I will explain exactly how I used these principles to learn German.

1. Set a clear objective

I followed the Key Objectives and Results (OKR) approach to set a goal. My overall goal was to learn as much German as possible in 30 days. More specifically, I wanted to achieve these key results:

Learn the 1000 most frequent German words

Learn 10 German songs by heart

Being able to have basic conversations with my German friends

1 and 2 are good because they are measurable, but the most important key result for me was number 3, which was a bit vague. To make it more tangible, I booked a ticket to Berlin and decided that I should spend the whole weekend with an old friend (German), who spoke only German.

Also, once I decided that I would go ahead with my plan, I basically announced to the whole world that I was going to learn German in 30 days. The purpose of this was purely psychological, since I would have to stick to the plan so as not to seem like a complete idiot. In fact, during my 30-day period, people asked me "how is the German study going?" To which I could always reply "Sehr gut, danke!"

(I also secretly decided that I would record a video in Berlin speaking in German, which I did on the 29th, but I will save you the discomfort of the video that I finally posted on Facebook).

2. Speak from day 1

I think that one of the biggest mistakes you can make when learning a language is to postpone speech until "you're ready." Learning languages ​​is like going to the gym: if you want to build muscles, anything other than exercising is just postponing.

Specifically, what I did to speak from day one was to find friends who spoke German or wanted to learn German. Then I told them that I would be online for 30 minutes to appear. Every day at 8 p.m. and I gave them my own custom URL. I told them that I would love to practice German with them there. I got 5 people to join in total. None of them were native German speakers, although some already spoke fluently (which I thought was very important!), and some were just beginning like me.

In order to remain in our target language (German) and not return to English or Norwegian, I created a cheat sheet containing essential phrases. This sheet prevented me from being blocked and, in general, was incredibly useful in our online conversations.

Following the analogy of "language is a muscle", I also repeated out loud everything I heard or read in German when I was studying on my own. Compared to just "passively" receiving (listening, reading) German, I think this really makes a difference to strengthen those German synapses in your brain.

3. Focus on frequent words

If you are not familiar with Zipf's law, you will be surprised to know that only the 100 most frequent words represent approximately 50% of all words spoken in German films. Take a moment to reflect on this amazing fact. Basically, this means that any other word you hear in a German movie is a word from that list of the top 100. The obvious conclusion? You need to know those words!

Here I found a list of the most frequent words in German subtitles, and created my own GoogleDocs spreadsheet with the 1000 most frequent words. These words represent ~ 75% of all words in German subtitles. My simple task was to complete the "meaning" column for each word before my 30 days have passed. In other words, I had to learn about 30 words per day. I made intensive use of cognates from English and Norwegian to learn them, and exported the words I had learned to Anki once a week to make sure I didn't forget them.

The frequency list is one of the things I did that worked best. It served as a good anchor on which I could focus my learning.

To test my vocabulary in the real world, I sometimes tried to read German newspapers or books, highlighting words I didn't understand. After reading a page or a paragraph, I would count the words I knew versus those I didn't know, and then calculate the proportion of known words / total words in the text. Towards the end of my study period, I registered about 80–85%, cognates or context that helped me overcome the 75% I obtained from the list of the best 1000.

4. Immerse yourself

I changed my language from Facebook to German. We watched many videos of Yabla.

But what worked best for me was my Spotify playlist with 10 German songs.

Once I learned the lyrics of these songs, I could play them every time and be exposed to German every time I could listen to music. I even recorded myself singing and playing these songs on the guitar. Again, I will save you the shame.

It's hard to choose the lyrics of just listening to the songs, so I would study the lyrics separately before trying to memorize something. I used Lingq, which meant I had the lyrics available on my iPhone, and I could easily track what words were new when studying a new song.

5. Keep a record

The My 1000 main words spreadsheet was excellent for knowing approximately how many words I knew at any given time. Since I had the frequency of each word, I could calculate the total "mass" of German I knew, not just the total number of words, which I found quite motivating.

I also kept a simple journal in Evernote that listed my activities by day. In the end there was only one day when I did nothing at all.

I hardly did any grammar study, which I think was a good decision, since I was only 30 days old and had no ambitions to speak perfectly. However, one thing that I would have liked to do to learn German cases is a set of 4 sentences of the type "Man gave the book to the child", a sentence for each gender + plural. Memorizing these four sentences would probably have been much easier than trying to remember a table of cases.

Summary

Once the experiment was over, I would say that I achieved my goal.

I learned the 1000 most frequent words (and probably some more that I didn't track). That's! Either this gave you some inspiration to start your own 30-day language adventure or you think I'm crazy. In any case, let me know what you think of my experiment!

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