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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

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WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.5 | MV1

an: FINAL PART LETS GO! i actually now need myself a bull rider boyfriend. call me a buckle bunny but im booking my flights to texas NEOW

summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.

wc: 5.3k

part one | part two | part three |

A week had passed since Max had started working at the barn, and, as much as he’d hoped things would smooth over quickly, she hadn’t exactly made life easy. She didn’t make his life hell, but she sure as hell made him work for every bit of her attention—and he was determined not to back down.

Every morning started the same. He’d roll up before dawn, grabbing her usual coffee order along with his own, and leave it on her desk in the barn’s office before heading out to do whatever Leslie had lined up for him. She never said thank you, but he noticed the empty coffee cups in the trash each afternoon. That was a win, even if she refused to acknowledge it.

But the rest of the day? She kept him on his toes. Whether it was piling on extra chores—cleaning the muck out of the hardest-to-reach stalls, fixing a fence she’d “forgotten” to mention was half-broken, or rearranging hay bales just after he’d finished stacking them—she found ways to keep him busy.

She didn’t nag or yell, though. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, she went about her work like he wasn’t even there, leaving him with that cool, indifferent attitude that drove him half-crazy. And yet, in those quiet moments, when he’d catch her out of the corner of his eye, he’d sometimes see her watching him, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before she turned away.

It was enough to keep him going.

That Friday, Max found himself knee-deep in the back stalls, mucking out the worst of the mess while she worked in the far corner, brushing down one of the horses. The barn was quiet, except for the occasional whinny or shuffle of hooves. He glanced up every now and then, hoping for a chance to talk to her, but she kept her distance, focused on her task.

When lunchtime rolled around, he wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the shovel to the side. His arms ached, and he could feel the strain in his back from the week’s work, but he wasn’t about to complain. He’d do anything to stay in her orbit, no matter how many stalls he had to clean or fences he had to fix.

He stepped outside, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The sun hung high, casting a warm glow over the fields. She walked out a few minutes later, heading toward her truck. He figured she’d drive off like she had been doing all week, probably to meet Heidi for lunch or to run errands.

But then she paused at her door, glancing back at him.

"You missed a spot in stall five," she said, her tone deadpan, though he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

Max wiped his hands on his jeans and shot her a grin. "I’ll get right on that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Better."

She didn’t wait for his response, just climbed into her truck and drove off, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.

And an hour later, when Max had finished the stalls, double-checking the one she’d pointed out. It was spotless, of course, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of calling her out on it. He was learning her rhythm—the small ways she tested him, the subtle pushes to see if he’d break. But he wasn’t about to.

As he stepped out of the barn, wiping the dirt off his boots, Leslie walked up, arms crossed, watching him with an amused look.

"She’s making you work for it, huh?" Leslie said, her voice laced with amusement.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Is it that obvious?"

Leslie smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, it’s clear as day, cowboy. She might not say much, but she sees everything. And trust me, she’s watching you closer than you think."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured as much."

"You holding up okay?" Leslie asked, more serious now. "She’s not making it easy, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you."

Max glanced back toward the direction her truck had disappeared. "I’ll take whatever she throws at me. I owe her that much."

Leslie nodded, her expression softening. "Just don’t push too hard, alright? She’ll come around. Maybe slower than you’d like, but she will."

Max let out a breath, his determination still strong. "I’m not going anywhere."

"Good," Leslie said, giving him a pat on the arm before walking off.

As the afternoon wore on, Max stayed busy with his tasks, but he couldn’t help thinking about her, about how she kept her walls so high, how she tested him day after day. But he wasn’t here for an easy win. He was here to make things right.

And if that meant mucking out stalls and rebuilding fences until she finally let him in? So be it.

Later that evening, she was sat in Heidi's kitchen, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. Heidi was perched on the counter, scrolling through her phone before glancing up at her, who had been unusually quiet for most of their hangout.

"You alright?" Heidi asked, narrowing her eyes with a knowing look. "You seem... distracted."

She sighed, leaning back against her chair. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long week."

Heidi gave her a pointed look. "Or maybe it's not the work that's tiring you out, but who you're working with."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "Please, Heidi. Don't start."

Heidi grinned, hopping off the counter and leaning in closer. "Come on, angel. I’ve seen the way he’s been busting his ass at the barn. Everyone has. He’s practically on call for any chore you throw at him. You’ve got to admit, he's putting in the effort."

She sipped her tea, her expression softening despite herself. "Yeah, maybe. But it doesn’t change anything, Heidi. What he did... I can’t just forget all of that."

Heidi raised an eyebrow, setting her phone down. "Look, I'm not saying you should forget it. But forgiveness isn’t about erasing the past, it’s about letting go of it. You see the way he’s trying. People don’t do that unless they really care."

She stared into her mug, her mind flicking through the past week. The coffee left on her desk each morning, the small fixes around the barn that Max did without a word, the way he smiled when he thought she wasn’t looking. She couldn’t deny it—he was making an effort, a real one.

But was it enough?

That night, she headed over to her mother's, her conversation with Heidi replaying in her mind. It was getting late, and the evening sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the yard as she pulled into her driveway. As she got out of her truck, something unusual caught her eye.

The ramp leading up to her mother’s front porch—usually creaky and worn—looked... different. Fixed. The wood was fresh, the railing sturdy. She frowned, puzzled. She had been meaning to repair it herself but hadn't found the time yet.

Curious, she headed inside, finding her mother sitting comfortably at the kitchen table reading a cookbook.

"Hey, Mum," she said, dropping her keys on the counter. "I noticed the ramp out front. Did you hire someone to fix it?"

Her mother looked up from her book with a soft smile, shaking her head. "Oh no, honey, I didn’t hire anyone."

She blinked, confused. "Then how did it get fixed?"

Her mother’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Max stopped by earlier this week. He saw the ramp and said it wasn’t in any state for ‘a woman like me’ to be using, so he fixed it. Didn’t ask for anything, just said it was his pleasure."

Her chest tightened, warmth flooding her in a way she hadn’t expected. She stared at her mother, trying to process the thought of Max—without any prodding, without any expectation of acknowledgment—quietly fixing the ramp.

"He did that?" she asked softly, more to herself than to her mother.

"Sure did," her mom replied. "And you should’ve seen the look on his face when I thanked him. Almost like he didn’t expect anyone to notice."

She bit her lip, fighting the tug at her heart. He was making an effort, far beyond what she had expected. And it wasn’t just for show—it was genuine, thoughtful, and quietly persistent. She couldn’t ignore that anymore, no matter how hard she tried to keep her walls up.

Later that night, as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t shake the image of Max fixing her mother’s ramp. He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t even tried to get credit for it. He was just... there. Trying. For her.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to care again.

The following morning, she went about her usual routine, but with one small difference. As she packed her lunch, she threw in an extra sandwich, a bag of chips, and some fruit. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. She still wasn’t sure what to make of everything, but a small part of her—one she hadn’t listened to in years—was softening.

Arriving at the barn, she found Max already working. His back was turned to her as he fixed one of the fences, the morning sun casting long shadows across the yard. His worn-out flannel shirt clung to his frame, muscles flexing with every hammer strike. She lingered for a second longer than she intended, watching him in quiet thought.

“Morning,” she called out, snapping herself out of it.

Max turned, wiping the sweat from his brow, and smiled at her. “Morning.”

She didn’t return the smile, but something in her expression was a little lighter today. She walked past him to start her own tasks, her heart beating a bit faster than usual.

As lunchtime approached, she gathered the packed lunches from her bag and headed to where Max was working. He was kneeling by a row of tools, setting them down with precision. He hadn’t noticed her approach yet.

She stood there for a moment, unsure of how to go about it. This wasn’t a peace offering—at least, she wasn’t ready to call it that—but it was... something.

“Hey,” she called out again, a little softer this time.

Max stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he turned toward her. “What’s up?”

“I packed extra,” she said, holding up the food, her voice steady but neutral. “Figured you might want to eat with me.”

Max’s surprise was unmistakable. His eyes flickered from the lunch she held to her face, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. “You—uh—yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

She led them over to a shaded area near the barn, where they sat side by side on a patch of grass. The air was filled with the scent of hay and the sound of distant horses. She handed him the sandwich without saying anything more, and they ate in silence.

The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was loaded with unspoken thoughts. Max didn’t dare speak, afraid that saying the wrong thing might ruin this fragile truce between them. So he savoured the moment instead—the fact that she’d thought of him at all, that she’d packed lunch for him. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was everything.

Every now and then, she would glance at him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he ate slowly, as if he was trying to make the moment last. He didn’t try to force conversation, didn’t push her for more than she was willing to give. And oddly enough, she appreciated that.

When they finished, Max balled up the wrapper from his sandwich and looked at her with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. For this. It means a lot.”

She didn’t say anything at first, just nodded as she folded her legs under herself. But inside, she could feel the cracks widening, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his quiet persistence.

“Don’t read into it,” she finally said, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Max chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m just happy you thought of me.”

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t snap back or pull away. Instead, she sat there in silence, the remnants of lunch between them, and let herself enjoy the stillness.

As she watched him from the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

That night, she found herself back at the rodeo grounds. The arena was empty, illuminated by the soft glow of the arena lights overhead. The cool night air swept through the open space, carrying with it the familiar scent of dust and hay. She had her horse, Luna, with her, and despite the late hour, she wanted to try a new technique with the barrels. Something had been nagging at her all day—a feeling that she needed to push herself harder, to regain what she felt she'd lost over the years.

After saddling Luna and setting up the barrels, she took a deep breath. Her heart raced, but she was determined. She mounted Luna and gave a gentle nudge with her heels, signalling the start. They took off at a steady gallop, rounding the barrels, leaning in and guiding Luna with precision. But something went wrong as they approached the last turn.

Luna slipped on the soft dirt, throwing off their balance. She felt herself lurch forward, unable to regain control. Before she knew it, her body hit the ground with a hard thud, her leg twisting beneath her.

A sharp pain shot through her shin, and the air was knocked from her lungs. She lay there for a moment, disoriented, trying to gather her breath. But as the pain intensified, a sinking realisation hit her—something was wrong.

She clenched her teeth, willing herself to move. Her hands dug into the dirt as she tried to stand, but the pain in her leg made her gasp. She collapsed back onto the ground, her chest heaving as the tears welled in her eyes. She knew she couldn’t walk on it, and the frustration burned deep inside her.

“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath, the reality of her situation settling in. Her eyes darted to the bench by the fence, where her phone lay. If she could just reach it, she could call for help.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. The pain in her leg was unbearable, but she forced herself to move, dragging her body toward the bench. Every inch felt like a mile, and by the time she reached it, her hands were trembling from the effort and pain.

She grabbed her phone, swiping it open with shaking fingers. For a moment, she hesitated. There was only one person who came to mind in her state, but calling him would mean admitting she needed him. Swallowing her pride, she scrolled through her contacts and hit Max’s number.

The phone rang twice before she heard his voice, laced with sleep and confusion. “Darlin’? What’s going on?”

Her voice cracked as she spoke, trying to keep it steady. “Max... I need your help.”

There was silence on the other end for a split second, and then, his tone shifted, becoming sharper, more alert. “Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m at the rodeo grounds,” she said, her breath shallow. “I fell... I think I fractured my shin. I can’t— I can’t stand.”

“I’m on my way,” Max said, no hesitation in his voice. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in five.”

The call ended, and she rested her head back against the bench, her tears finally spilling over. She hated feeling this vulnerable, this helpless. But in that moment, all she could do was wait and hope Max could get to her before the pain became too much.

Max rolled out of bed the moment her call ended, barely taking a second to throw on a shirt. His mind raced as he grabbed the first aid kit he always kept in his truck, along with two pillows he stuffed under his arm. He cursed under his breath, already imagining the worst, knowing that she wouldn’t have called him unless she had no other choice.

He drove through the quiet streets toward the rodeo grounds way above the speed limit, his heart pounding in time with the thrum of his engine. The sky was still dark, the early morning stars fading into the approaching dawn. When he finally arrived at the arena, his headlights washed over her, slumped against the bench, her face pale and streaked with dirt and pain.

He was out of the truck and by her side in seconds.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he said, his voice soft but urgent as he knelt beside her. His hair was a mess, and she could tell he’d come straight from bed. She could even make out the faint marks on his face from where his pillow had pressed into his skin. Despite everything, she felt a strange warmth in her chest at the sight of him so unguarded, so rushed.

“You really didn’t have to come this fast,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice light through the pain, but Max was already assessing her leg.

“You said you couldn’t stand,” he said, his tone firm as he gently touched the area around her shin, making her wince. “Yeah, you weren’t kidding. Looks pretty swollen. You did a number on it.”

Without wasting another moment, he positioned the pillows beneath her leg, carefully lifting her injured shin with as much tenderness as he could muster. “We need to keep this elevated.”

She leaned back, biting her lip against the surge of pain as he made her comfortable. “I’m fine, Max. Just... get me to the hospital, okay?”

“Yeah, we’re going,” he nodded. “Okay, let’s get you into the truck.”

He slipped his arms under her without warning, lifting her off the ground with an ease that made her breath catch. For a moment, she wanted to protest, tell him she could manage, but the truth was, she couldn’t. And something about the way he carried her, like she was fragile and precious, made her fall silent.

Max gently settled her into the passenger seat, making sure her leg was resting on the pillows he had brought. Once she was situated, he leaned in for a second, his eyes locking on hers.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, her voice a little softer than before. “Thanks.”

He gave her a quick nod before stepping away, his boots crunching in the dirt as he turned back toward Luna, who had been waiting anxiously nearby. She watched as Max took the reins, speaking softly to the horse to calm her down. He led Luna toward the stable, his movements steady and practised, like he’d done it a thousand times.

After securing Luna safely in a stall, Max pulled out his phone and dialled Daniel, explaining the situation. “Hey, man, can you come get her horse from the Rodeo Grounds off Milton? Yeah, she’s here, she had a fall and I’m taking her to the hospital now.”

Daniel must’ve agreed because Max gave a quick thanks and hung up, heading back to the truck. He climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing over at her as he started the engine.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice a little softer now.

She nodded, her head leaning back against the seat, her face tense with pain but somehow calmer now that he was with her. She shifted slightly, her hand resting over her shin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Max didn’t waste any more time. He pulled out of the rodeo grounds, the truck rumbling down the road toward the hospital. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her, making sure she was okay, but she kept her eyes forward, trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing in her leg.

When they pulled up to the hospital, Max jumped out of the truck and went straight for help. Within minutes, a nurse brought a wheelchair over, and she was gently transferred from the truck into the chair. She gritted her teeth as pain radiated through her shin with every small movement, but Max was there, his hand on her shoulder, steady and reassuring.

Once they got her inside and into a room, the doctors took over, examining her leg and running x-rays. Max never left her side. Even when the doctors moved her to a bed and propped her leg up with more pillows, he sat in a chair nearby, his eyes fixed on her like he was afraid she might disappear if he looked away for even a second.

The cast came next, wrapping her shin from ankle to knee, and while the doctors spoke to her about recovery time and physical therapy, she could only focus on Max sitting quietly by the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, but his body still tense with worry.

Once the doctors left the room, silence settled between them. It was just the two of them now, and she was suddenly very aware of the soft hum of the hospital, the sound of her own breathing, and the way Max’s presence seemed to fill every inch of the small room.

She shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the tug of pain. Max noticed and immediately stood, closing the distance between them. Without a word, he leaned down, gently brushing the hair from her face, and then he pressed his lips softly against her forehead.

The simple, tender gesture sent a warmth through her that had nothing to do with the hospital blankets. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to race. She could feel the weight of years between them, the unresolved emotions swirling in the air, and then, as if he could sense it too, Max spoke.

“I ain’t leaving this time,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, full of quiet resolve. His thumb traced gently along her temple, his touch soft but firm, grounding her in the moment.

She blinked up at him, her chest tightening as the words sank in. There was a vulnerability in his voice, something she hadn’t heard before, and it disarmed her.

"You said that when we were kids," she whispered back, her voice laced with a mix of old hurt and hesitation.

“I know,” he said, straightening up but never taking his eyes off her. “But this time, I mean it.”

For the first time in years, she saw something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were teenagers—pure, unguarded sincerity. And for a moment, it scared her. She had built so many walls to protect herself from this exact moment, from feeling anything for him again. But here he was, and somehow, without even trying, he was breaking through those walls.

She swallowed hard, looking away as she fought the urge to let her guard down completely. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to believe you.”

“I know,” Max said quietly, his voice steady but soft. “But I’ll prove it to you, darlin’. I promise.” He took a step back, giving her space. "I’ll be here. Every day. For as long as it takes."

She felt something stir deep in her chest, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for so long. But she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet. So instead, she looked away, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes, and said nothing.

Max didn’t push. He just pulled the chair back up beside her bed and sat down again, settling in like he was prepared to stay as long as she needed him to.

And in that moment, she realised that maybe—just maybe—this time, he really meant it.

The following morning she stirred slowly, the soft beeping of machines and the faint smell of antiseptic greeting her as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she was disoriented, the hospital room unfamiliar, the bright light overhead too harsh. But as she shifted slightly, the discomfort in her leg reminded her where she was.

And then she saw him.

Max was slumped in the chair beside her bed, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open, and the light from the window fell across his face. He looked worn out, the stubble on his jaw accentuating the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear he had fallen asleep waiting for her to wake up, and her heart swelled at the sight. He looked so peaceful, but she couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable that chair must be after a long night.

Just as she was about to call out to him, the door creaked open, and her mother walked in, followed closely by Heidi. They both froze for a second, taking in the scene: her awake in bed and Max asleep in the chair, clearly the protector she needed.

“Oh, honey!” her mother exclaimed, rushing to her side. “You’re awake!” She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, concern etched on her features. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” she replied, her voice hoarse but light. She glanced at Max again, a soft smile breaking across her face. “Is he okay?”

Heidi exchanged a knowing look with her mother, both of them trying to suppress their amusement. “Looks like he’s been here all night,” Heidi said quietly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I think he’s more tired than you are.”

Her heart fluttered at that, a mixture of gratitude and guilt washing over her. She hadn’t wanted him to feel like he had to stay, but the sight of him right there, ready to care for her, warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected.

As if on cue, Max stirred, blinking awake and immediately focusing on her. His eyes brightened, and he pushed himself upright, shaking off the remnants of sleep. “Hey,” he murmured, voice gravelly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ran a marathon,” she replied, attempting to joke. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. Just then, her mother cleared her throat, and the atmosphere shifted slightly.

“Sweetpea, we’ll let you have some time with Max,” her mother said, glancing knowingly at the two of them. “He clearly has something to say.” She motioned for Heidi to follow her out.

“Mum, wait—” she started, but her mother was already closing the door behind her, leaving her alone with Max.

The moment stretched, the air thick with unspoken words. She was both grateful for the space and hesitant about what to say.

Max leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression earnest. “Darlin’, about last night—”

Before he could finish, the door swung open again, this time revealing her mother and Heidi, who walked back in.

“Sorry to interrupt!” her mother chirped, but the way her eyes sparkled indicated they weren’t sorry at all. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re going to grab some coffee and food. We’ll be back shortly.”

As they turned to leave, Heidi shot her a quick wink, whispering loud enough for Max to hear, “Looks like someone’s going to stay this time.”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and Max’s gaze flickered between the two women before he smirked, clearly amused by their implication. “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, the confidence in his voice sending warmth spreading through her.

As her mother and Heidi exited the room, Max settled back into the chair, the teasing atmosphere dissipating into something deeper. “I meant what I said last night,” he added, his tone serious. “I’m not leaving this time, darlin’. You can count on me.”

She swallowed, her heart racing at the promise in his words. She wanted to believe him, to trust him again, but she knew it would take time. Still, there was a flicker of hope, a spark that hadn’t been there before.

“Okay,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “I hope you mean that.”

He nodded, a small smile breaking across his face, and in that moment, the air between them was charged with the possibility of healing, of building something new together.

She watched as Max's eyes darkened with a mix of emotions—relief, longing, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She felt the air between them thicken, charged with the weight of everything they had been through, all the words unsaid, and the feelings that had lingered for far too long.

Before she could think, she reached out, gripping the edge of the hospital bed. “Max—”

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers, as if he could see right into her soul. “Sweetheart, I know things are complicated, and I know I hurt you—”

“I just—”

But the moment hung between them, fragile yet electric. She could feel the pull, a magnetic force drawing them closer, igniting a fire she thought had dimmed years ago.

And then it happened. Max surged forward, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. It was a kiss filled with the weight of their history, the longing that had been buried beneath years of pain, and the passion that had never truly faded. She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with an intensity she hadn’t realised she was capable of.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in a moment that felt both like a homecoming and a revelation. She could feel his warmth enveloping her, wrapping her in safety and comfort. The soft beeping of the machines and the sterile scent of the hospital evaporated, replaced by the sweetness of his breath mingling with hers.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Her heart raced. She could see the depth of his feelings reflected in his eyes, but the weight of everything that had happened loomed over them like a dark cloud.

“Max…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped loving you. I know you can’t just forget everything that happened, but I’m here to stay. I’m here to be yours, and I’m—”

But she didn’t let him finish. Instead, she pulled him forward, capturing his lips again, desperate to erase the doubt and fear that threatened to invade this fragile moment. The kiss deepened, their lips moving in a passionate dance, a combination of urgency and need. It felt like they were reclaiming something that had always belonged to them, something that had been buried but never forgotten.

Their breaths mingled, and she felt herself surrendering completely. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating against her, and it ignited something deep within her, a fire that had been dormant for far too long. She pulled him closer, as if she could merge their bodies, their souls, into one.

Finally, they broke apart, both gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other, hearts racing in unison. She looked into his eyes, searching for certainty, and saw the sincerity etched in every line of his face.

“Okay,” she murmured, a smile breaking through the tension. “You can stay.”

Max grinned, his relief palpable. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, her heart fluttering with hope. “But you better be prepared to work for it.”

He laughed softly, a sound that made her heart soar. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

the end.

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shepherds-of-haven · 1 year ago

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Unsolicited Writing Advice

Completely random reminder to back up your work, especially if you're a writer, IF or game developer, coder, or creator of any kind. People sometimes ask me what my advice for other writers is, and I always forget to include this one, but it's one of the most important things, especially if your career, livelihood, or long-form projects hinge on writing in any way! Take it from someone who just had two backup methods fail unexpectedly and only the third backup prevented me from losing a solid month of work, you need to back up your work in as many ways as you possibly can. It may seem like a pain in the ass at the time, but I've seen a lot of games or stories stall or fail completely due to a catastrophic loss of data that utterly kills any drive to keep going with the project because of the need to start over. I'M BEGGING YOU, BACK UP YOUR DATA.

I recommend having at least 2, ideally 3 methods of backup:

Automatic cloud storage. I personally prefer working with Dropbox, where every change I save is automatically synced and backed up to a cloud server as well as natively saved on my own device. It also has robust version history, so if you figure out you've done something horrific and unknowingly saved over something important or rewritten a section you weren't supposed to, you can rewind everything in a folder down to a specific minute (over the last 30 days): a feature that has saved my hide just a few too many times for comfort. A free Dropbox account gives you 2 GB of storage to work with. Working within Google Drive works just as well, and the free version gives you 15 GB of storage (though that's shared between your email account and other Google apps, as well)! However, I don't believe it provides automatic syncing and backup the same way Dropbox does: you either have to work directly within a Google doc for your work to be automatically saved to the server, or you have to manually upload the files to your Google Drive to back them up each time.

Physical storage. Every few weeks or months, I also take the time to back up my important files to an external hard drive or thumb drive. Again, it's kind of a hassle, but if the day ever comes that you lose your passwords or find that they've been changed, a company's servers go down or they go bankrupt, they decide to start charging you to access your data, or whatever crazy circumstance you can think of, it's always good to have a physical backup somewhere. A basic 1 TB thumb drive is somewhere around 20$ USD (though it can be slower at that price point if you're transferring a large amount of data each time), and it's even less if you don't need that much storage. A 1 TB external hard drive (which has a much quicker transfer rate) is around 40-50$.

If all else fails, email. If you can't get access to physical storage devices and cloud storage services don't work for you, consider setting up a free Gmail or what-have-you account specifically for backup purposes, then email a copy of your most important files to it every time you make a significant change to them. This may seem sort of primitive and simplistic, but it works, and you can even use it as a little journal or diary of your progress!

Again, you may think this is overkill, but I am convinced that writers are especially prone to proving Murphy's Law and have seen way too many projects, friends, and colleagues fall prey to this oft-overlooked issue. I can count at least half a dozen times where -> my primary device like my laptop broke, failed, became corrupted, had water spilled on it, etc. -> I then turned to my secondary device (hard drive or thumb drive) only to find something was wrong with THAT (broken, outdated, incompatible with currently-owned tech, corrupted, not up-to-date backups) OR I turned to my cloud storage and found something wrong with THAT (unknowingly saved over data and didn't realize it until 3 months later, meaning not even version history could save me) -> and it was only the THIRD method of backing up that saved my ass.

Anyway, this is just your friendly neighborhood writer reminding you to back your work up! It's a necessary part of the job! Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!

#Shepherds of Haven #writing #writing tips #writing advice

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gyunglitter · 1 year ago

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➷ 01 ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 1,766

warnings: probably just the reader making you cringe lol, give her a break--she's 11 lmao

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: LMAO SORRY TO POST KINDA LATE, I FORGOT I PROMISED TODAY HAHAHAHA

another short chapter, but i promise the next couple of chapters are a lot longer! enjoy mini reader, beomgyu, and soobin tho :)

–> masterlist <–

Ten Years Ago

If there was one thing your family agreed on, it was that Soobin was the shyest person around.

You and Soobin were very close, having a lot of the same interests and mannerisms. You didn’t disagree on many things (yet), but there were only a handful of differences between you two. You were eleven years old, making your older brother thirteen, and about to go into his final year of middle school. But the main thing that had set you both apart was that while you had many friends, Soobin had absolutely no one. He was a very sweet and funny kid, but he was too shy for his own good, unintentionally pushing the majority of the people his age away.

You had hoped your brother would make some friends during his seventh year, but had little to no luck; apparently, the Bunny Girl Senpai Fanclub wasn’t taking many applicants and the Pokemon Card Collectors Club was a bunch of gatekeepers. Middle school boys.

“What if I just faked being sick?”

Soobin held his head in his hands as he was waiting for his pop tarts in the toaster. You sat on the counter across from him, shoving down a bowl of Frosted Flakes. You didn’t have to leave for another hour when your mom would drive you to the primary school a few blocks away. Soobin, on the other hand, was supposed to set off for his first day of eighth grade soon, but was stalling as much as he could before he had to start walking over.

You snorted, “For the whole year? Fat chance of that happening, you’re the worst liar.”

Your brother lifted his head and glared at you, before sighing loudly and crying, “I hate school, it’s filled with people who are scary and take your rare Charizard card!”

You opened your mouth to reply, but were interrupted by your house’s doorbell ringing. You looked towards the front door and turned back to Soobin expectantly. But your brother wasn’t paying any attention. To your (un)amusement, he was still sulking about, well, just about everything. Like you said, middle school boys.

Shaking your head, you hopped off of the counter (carefully, as your dad had shown you) and walked over to the front door.You figured it was one of your neighbors or the mailman. You usually weren’t allowed to open the door yourself, but that completely escaped your mind when you opened the door and were faced with an unfamiliar boy.

A cute, unfamiliar boy.

You mentally thanked your mom for braiding your hair in two with your favorite butterfly clips now.

“Hi,” you said, a small grin taking over your face. “I’m Y/n!”

The boy looked at you and smiled back. “Hey, Y/n, your mom or dad home?”

You nodded your head. “They are, but they’re running around getting ready. I can definitely help you though!” What can you say, you were a confident kid.

“I don’t know, you might be a bit too little,” he teased you, making you scoff.

“Little? I’ll have you know, I can deal with anything, even crazy!”

He laughed a little at that and then said, “Of course! I’m sure you’re super responsible at the age of..?”

“Eleven,” you bragged, tucking a stray hair back into one of your butterfly clips.

The boy nodded in deep understanding and said, “Well, little Y/n, I’m Beomgyu. I just moved here and my mom told me you guys had someone my age here too! I figured we could walk to school together,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your eyes widened at that, a warm feeling taking over your stomach.

The boy was cute, duh. But his easy offer of friendship, something your brother had struggled to find, made you know that this Beomgyu had a kindness to him that not many his age did–according to Soobin.

Your grin widened at the boy in front of you, nodding your head eagerly. “Just give me a sec,” you squealed, excited for your brother. “OPPA! YOU’RE FINALLY GONNA MAKE A FRIEND!”

Years later, you look back and remember the loud laugh Beomgyu had let out at your call, his excitement outweighing the awkwardness Soobin exhibited when he appeared at your doorway with a pop tart hanging from his mouth.

You look back and remember Beomgyu easily befriending Soobin with his wide smiles, animated hand gestures, and cool stories about his new pet bird. The way he eased your brother’s nerves and got him laughing, already offering to share the other pop tart in his pack.

You look back and cringe sometimes at the confidence those lame butterfly clips gave you. But you take it back when you would remember Beomgyu, with an arm around Soobin’s shoulder, had turned around while the two boys were about to take off for school, saying in a singsong tone, “Nice to meet you, little Y/n, love the butterfly clips, by the way!”

But most of all, you remember the way your cheeks flushed. The way he made you feel like you were cute too. Like you were special. You remember how that was the first of many times he would fluster you with his compliments.

You were only eleven, but at that moment you would look back and remember how this is where you became a fool–a fool for love.

“You look really good,” he whispered to you.

It took everything in you to not show how much he affected you. Unlike the many instances before though, you actually succeeded this time around. Your focused gaze on your brother and father’s random discussion about his anime watching habits kept your eyes from widening, and your well placed makeup did a good job of hiding the flush that desperately wanted to highlight your neck and cheeks. It bothered you very much how Choi Beomgyu could still get under your skin.

“Thanks,” you replied shortly, not letting your eyes leave their spot on Soobin.

–Your brother was whining about how there was no harm in watching anime when he already got his work done for the day–

Despite your subtle avoidance of him, you knew it wasn’t reciprocated by the way his breaths brushed against your ear. The way his eyes were on you, you could feel them as if they were burning you. It felt like he was truly drinking you in after so many years of not getting a single glimpse of you. But that was all you would allow him.

“I, uh, it’s nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” he continued, trying to catch your attention.

You hummed disinterestedly.

–Your father had taken to pointing out Soobin’s body pillows, to which he groaned loudly, claiming that was actually Beomgyu’s gag gift to make him look sus–

But Beomgyu was not deterred.

“Congrats on, well, everything from the past four years! I know college can be pretty crazy!”

You winced a little at that, remembering how your mom told you Beomgyu had actually dropped out of college about three months after you left for school. Despite Beomgyu doing amazing in school when you were still around–there was talk of him possibly graduating at the top of your class–he practically tanked his classes the following fall semester.

“But of course, if there was anyone who could deal with crazy, it would be our little Y/n, huh,” he laughed a little–that same damn laugh he had when you first met. “I mean, you are pretty amazing—”

You weren’t sure what he had gotten up to after you left, but you weren’t interested in hearing anything. Not about him, his future, and definitely not about how amazing he thought you were.

“Wow dad, this shrimp tastes great!” You shouted your false gratitude, successfully interrupting Beomgyu and the argument between your brother and father.

All the chatter stopped for a second, before your dad grinned at you. “Thanks, bean, make sure to grab some more then! You’re looking too skinny, anyways, are you sure you ate enough out there,” he asked, wiping his hands on the front of his apron.

You laughed and nodded, both at your dad’s question and Soobin's grateful stare for changing the topic. Eventually, your mother started another conversation about how Soobin’s friends from school were doing.

“I thought you didn’t like seafood,” Beomgyu muttered to you when he got the chance.

For the first time that evening, you looked back at him.

You realized, with a painful squeeze in your chest, that Beomgyu had grown past the stage of cuteness that you had adored when you were younger, and in your absence, became beautiful. Sure, his puppy dog eyes stayed the same, holding that familiar kindness and curiosity as before. But now, his face lost its round edges and became chiseled, looking as if his features were carved by Aphrodite, herself. His hair was dyed brown and had grown out a little into what was beginning to look like a mullet, giving off a boyish look that his typically mischievous expressions matched easily. Not only that, but he looked like he’d really grown into himself, physically and mentally. Granted, he wasn’t in the best place when you had left four years ago, but the way he carried himself was refreshing. Attractive. Him.

“I didn’t, but I do now.” You took another bite of the shrimp on your plate. “I mean, it’s been a long four years. The things I liked before changed quite a bit while I was gone. ”

You watched Beomgyu’s face fall a bit at that, his puppy dog eyes becoming downcast as he looked towards his own plate of chicken. There wasn’t much on his plate to begin with, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be eating any more after that.

“Yeah, I guess they would after so long,” Beomgyu whispered, pushing his food around with his chopsticks.

You turned back to your own food to try and get your mind off of him, but he stopped you with his next words.

“If it changes anything, so have mine.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening. You turned towards Beomgyu, to see him looking at you with what you could only assume was guilt.

“I just wish they had done so earlier.”

–> next <–

#tomorrow x tomorrow #txt #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #choi yeonjun #choi soobin #hueningkai #kang taehyun #stupid cupid

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spinningintheshadows · 6 months ago

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Lyric Prompts Volume 7!

A fresh round of prompts! Bringing my total number of lyric prompts to well over 300. Hope you enjoy!

“I have questions for the pharmacies and questions for the church”

“One phone call from you and my entire world was changed”

“Sailed shore to shore, learned a little bit more and found your way back home”

“I have crossed some broken bridges in my time”

“You and me got a whole lot of history”

“Are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne?

“Planned it all out for the middle of June”

“She kept the hotel key, slipped it in her purse. I guess it makes her think of me”

“I’ve had one too many “come take me home”s”

“Standin in the screen door watching her whole world head towards an old ford”

“Son, there’s things I haven’t told you. Your mom and me couldn’t get along”

“I’m only one drink away from the devil”

“How you gonna say that? Take it all back, fuckin with my head will make my heart attack.”

“And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have but I did not lose”

“I kind of wouldn’t mind if she ruined my life”

“I’ve waited all my life to find a love that feels this right”

“If only you loved me like you love getting high”

“You’re never gonna get, I’m a hazard to myself”

“So love me right now before you leave me.”

“Thought she’s fragile like a flower but she’s fragile like a bomb”

“They said he hit that guard rail at half-past three”

“Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much”

“You keep his shirt, he keeps his word, and for once you let go”

“It got slammed last night and now it don’t close right”

“Still looking for a feeling half of us haven’t found”

“You’re crazy but I like the way you fuck me”

“You’re a memory I don’t mess with”

“I forgot I had dreams, I forgot I had wings, I forgot who I was before I ever kissed you”

“And if we’re meant to, I’ll meet you there”

“Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for”

“We’re stopping and stalling, we’re running in circles again”

“Know you’re trying to do you but I heard you fell off, just a couple bad nights

“She rolled her eyes, and then she said “I know your dying wish is to be baptized in my spit” and then walked away, I didn’t get her name”

“People treat me like I’m an asshole, but I don’t text when I drive though”

“Making mistakes that were made for us, we brushed them off like paper cuts”

“You’re a power bottom at rock bottom”

“And the nights you don’t remember are the nights that you’ll never forget”

“Some settle down, some got out, either way we were raised by this town”

“I’m tired of second chances, and these sad ass circumstances, he’s your problem, good luck”

“They’ll make you cuss and wear your patience thin, but next thing you know they’re all grown up”

“Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey, they know me and Jack Daniel’s got a history”

“When sun goes down and his hazel eyes go blue, that’s when I understand cowboys cry too”

“But when my fairytale went up in smoke, I packed up the only life I know and I told her I’m afraid to be alone, she stayed”

“Can’t believe I haven’t figured out by now. Every time I call you up, all you do is let me down”

“Baby, don’t waste your time on me. I’m so damaged beyond repair.”

“So pack up your car, put a hand on your heart, say whatever you feel, be wherever you are”

“Back when I was gasoline, and this old tattoo had brand new ink.”

“I know that nobody’s listening to a prophet who still can’t turn a profit”

“Even though my dizzy head is numb, I swear my heart is never giving up”

“I know I could do better but better’s just whatever.”

#writing prompts #writing prompt #lyric prompts #song prompt #lyric prompt #song prompts #prompt list #prompts #all time low #noah kahan #forever the sickest kids #taylor swift #country #pop punk

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colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl · 11 months ago

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Hey...Been a while (My Bad)

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Holidays everyone!!! I know I'm late to the party, life's been kinda CRAZY BUSY Drama and stuff happened. Didn't have time to breath. I did want to post art for the Holidays, art I originally planned for last year. Didn't work out, Wil make eventually, as I love the plan still I set out to make last year and want to still create it. But some new stuff in life that effects schedule was new to me and the exhaustion it brought I wasn't used to. Things seem a bit better so I'm hoping to get back in the swing of it. Starting classes for a month soon so I will have a little less chaos and more time to work on art and stuff hopefully when that happens. (We'll see, prayers all the same)

So, been working on 1st Few chapters, cleaning up. Wanted to know for if you guys wanted me to post favorite lines on occasion. I know I've talked about it before... But maybe set a schedule of every other week or something to share. Like maybe share first lines? Let me know! #stry

~~~

In the meantime, while art has been slower, I have still been working on story bits (so much so I've had days I've tired myself out and wanted to work on other things. But I still have the drive for it. I just give myself occasional break cause you know you don't want something to be a chore when creating. It was more working on some chapters technical stuff which was the chore as it sometimes is. Seems more so when you have it pretty set in stone but have to fix little things that are annoying). I've also been dreadfully stretching out writing out the full outline, I have a form of it in my document (and a terribly built early version from the early days of this fix revolving around the first several chapters events).... However, due to having it fully thought out now I'm at the point I'm hammering nearly 24/7 in my head that while I want to work on art or more story writing I need to sit down and do this. As a visual and do it learner I know for me I need to more so get several printed paper laid out and write in order the outline (not timeline, but that to eventually I've got a very old draft from the early days of the timeline as well. But I need to work on that after too)... So yeah... Just something I'm procrastinating on that despite having the Outline fully or "mostly" fully embodied for the 3-6 books (with all that happens in books 3 or what likely is 5 & 6 I realize it could end up becoming 7 books, but I'm trying to not say that just yet)... But yeah, i have the main things figured out and mostly all events of Book 1 & 2 (most likely it will be Books 1-4 figured out) all the major events have long been in stone for all the books it's just the puzzle pieces of where certain things go and the figuring out battles that is the main thing of the later books not fully visualized ubt story beats are already in stone for the later ends I just realize some may be added to help flesh things out in the later books. Yeah, some reason the one piece of this story that's a chore is getting myself to sit down and do the outline, money isn't a issue at the moment. Though i have some house work that is why some things have been stalled. It's just one of those funny bits I can't get myself to do, despite creating continually for it...

So yeah, really part of me stalling has been trying to get myself to sit down and do what I need to do as a writer instead of relying on the road map in my head (cause I don't want to mess up). That said, lately due to a family member who has connections wanting to read the first few chapters. I've been really working on getting the first five chapters and the Overture (I decided due to length and as it fit better for the story the Prologue is more called the Overture) as I make many references to songs and other reasons. Just like the epilogue (which I long have written and last year I reworked and rewrote, I told my mom what the epilogue entails without reading it to her, as she doesn't want to read any of it till it's created my parents and larger family have been heavily supportive including my friends of me finally setting out to write my first original series... But she literally cried when I told her the ending and the epilogue which I call Before Curtain Bows (and something else that is a stage reference, i grew up on the stage so it's kinda fits to call these such for me and how the story is titled literally spelling out story I kinda pay homage to how they used to be told as if on stage).

Anyways, I know I said I wouldn't do any more long updates. BUt I felt since it's been a while I would. I hope to post more art stuff soon. Unrelated to what I was working on for a while (also to my friend waiting for the birthday gift, I decided to hold it till this birthday so you'll see it in a few months which allows me to work on it a bit more along with other things since it became slightly bigger then I expected it to be while working on it on and off).

Also with the "Recent Business" in my life, it kinda recently inspired me to make just a short, non scheduled Henry Stickmin Collection short random comic with the characters of THSC in a similar place and shenanigans inspired by my experiences in said place. I'll give you more info in the Update 0.5 comic I hope to post and get finished soon. Like I said was to busy to work on anything. But hope to get some of this up soon. I also have a update to my last post where I outlined it and added more details so I'll be posting that (I wanted to see if I can use my scanner but that rooms blocked off by boxes right now gotta figure out a way to navigate it to do so).

Anyways, that's all from me on updates....

Here's a sketch from the 0.5 Update to prove I'm doing stuff other then technical stuff on the novel portion.

THIS WILL BE DIGITILIZED LATER... just rough sketch dump from back when I made this little idea.

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staticl0ve · 2 years ago

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WRITER ASK (I might have just seen it🧍🏻‍♀️)

🌈 - is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

🎀 - give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🤍 - what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

💫 - what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

AND ANOTHER EXTRA ONE I MADE UP because I can and you cant stop me 😌:

👀 - ARE THERE any scenes from any fics of yours that didn’t make in the final cut?

LOVE YOU BABE♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️

AHHHHH. Girl, I love you so much 😭. Gonna SOB MY EYES OUT before I can write this. ✨

🌈 - is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

I wanna say, Garden of Eden’s chapter 8 where it’s all about machine!Connor and there’s so much tension before the filth. Getting the tone down, plus making sure he felt reasonably like a machine was extra hard.

In the same vein, of TBND, You Drive Me Crazy’s part two with Cain/Nines was SO DIFFICULT to write. It took weeks of back and forth cutting and moving aspects of that chapter around to get the vibes right.

Something the two examples have in common is trying to find the motivation of a cold, emotionally removed character and making the spark of change happen in them. It’s especially hard because these colder characters don’t talk a ton and can’t wear their emotions on their sleeves and there’s a need to sprinkle in sexual tension so it’s not all stiff and mean interactions.

I love Nines, I wanna write more Nines. He’s just a difficult man to properly portray and be interesting/sexy the whole way.

🎀 - give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Uh. 🧍‍♀️Whutchu mean?

I jk. Put that gun away.

I’m pretty ADHD as hell so I wanna say I think I enjoy the pacing of my scenes. I try to jump around or keep things interesting/getting to the point, cause I personally can’t focus on something too long if I’m writing it. I’ll even cut stuff from scenes when I edit if I feel like it’s too much to read and doesn’t have to be there.

🤍 - what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Funny enough, I left so many clues in Dollhouse about the plot and even fully explain it in the last chapter and I got comments where people were confused or didn’t understand how it could have happened that way. 🤣 Most people got it, I think I leaned really heavily on the pop culture reference of hoping others read the tags and watched Ex Machina and had a sense of what they’re getting into.

💫 - what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

Any! I love all comments, they make me feel so fuzzy on the inside. 💙✨

In particular, I always love it when people comment about the character dynamics, enjoy a scene or if they’ve found my side jokes in the narrative. I recently had someone laughing over a joke I slid into Dancing with the Devil and it made my day.

👀 - ARE THERE any scenes from any fics of yours that didn’t make in the final cut?

SNEAKY. I love your questions, they make me think.

There was meant to be a family picnic scene planned for Sixty’s TNBD part two. I thought it would be entertaining if Hank gave his son crap and embarrassed him further in front of his reader. I forget why I cut it, and chances are, it was cause I wanted the pacing to not get stalled by a scene that at the time… I still felt too new to dialogue to confidently tackle and keep interesting.

Some scenes don’t get cut, but morphed entirely so it reads really differently but the original vibes are there.

The Pig and the Fox was actually drafted with the interrogation scene first, looooong before I even thought about the plot. The scene was really different, at the time I just wanted a focus on the sexual tension of two characters: one who wants the other and one who’s aware of the other but “hates” them.

So the dialogue was a lot meaner and more spiteful. It took a fair amount of workshopping to adjust the scene to fit the plot since that scene ultimately ended up in chapter 3 where a lot of context has changed how the two characters would interact. I’d like to think I still preserved the spicy tension though. ✨🔥

Ty again, babe. 💋💙✨ These questions are so sweet!

Ask me anything from this writer ask.

#my asks #dbh fanfic

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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The world is gonna melt, get a little wet

Part 2

SPICY RATED E - Minors DNI | Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

She stills Nancy’s hips, who whines and narrows her eyes at Robin. Her big doe eyes are normally enough to get Robin to do whatever she wants, but it’s hotter when Nancy pins her with this specific look, jaw clenched and ready to pounce. She would get on her knees for that Nancy Wheeler. And she has, many, many times.

“Are you trying to make me pay for teasing you?”

“Of course not,” Robin leans forward and kisses the pout off her lips, before spinning Nancy around. “My hands just have better ideas.”

Robin leans more heavily into the door, spreading her legs and pulling Nancy back against her by her hips. She always revels in how small Nancy feels in her arms, a petite little powerhouse that tries to take charge in every situation, even now. Nancy wraps her hands around Robin’s wrists and guides them lower, back to where Robin was running her fingertips just moments before. As soon as Robin’s palms are caressing her thighs again, Nancy’s back is arching, pushing her chest out and stretching her neck to the side, as if she knows exactly how this looks and exactly how crazy she can drive Robin in this moment.

One of Robin’s hands inches slowly around the front of Nancy’s thigh, pushing the edge of the skirt up and down, teasing her just as much as Nancy has all night. She lets out another breathy whine when Robin tilts her head down and kisses along her collar bone. It turns into a whimper when Robin’s fingers finally move towards her core, tracing around the lace that lines the edges of her panties, lightly pressing in to make Nancy spread her legs more.

She takes her time with it, running her fingers up and down both sides, feeling the delicate lace beneath her fingers and the heat from Nancy that feels like a volcano ready to erupt. She alternates that with strokes along the inside of Nancy’s thighs, featherlight touches that have Nancy shaking in her arms.

There’s a rhythmic jolt to her hips now, almost syncing up with the music thumping through the walls, a sort of swaying that tells Robin that Nancy is searching for more. A helpless grind against the air while Robin keeps her hands away from where Nancy is begging her to touch. Nancy’s keening exhales sound desperate and frustrated.

Right as it looks like Nancy is about to snap and tell her to get on with it, Robin pushes Nancy’s panties aside and slips one finger along her folds, swirling her middle finger around Nancy’s clit. The bass from the music drowns out most of Nancy’s whines, keeping them secretly tucked away in this stall while Robin gets Nancy off. But there’s still a bit of danger in the air. Anyone could walk in and figure out the noises emanating from their alcove if they listened closely. Hell, they didn’t even check the other stalls before they crashed full steam ahead into this one.

She bites at Nancy’s ear and whispers, “Stay quiet, love.”

A bitten off fuck you makes Robin laugh.

She pulls at Nancy’s shirt to untuck it and slips her hand under the hem. She runs her fingers up Nancy’s stomach, feeling her shudder at the touch. Nancy’s bra isn’t nearly as fancy as her panties, just a simple white thing, no frills, so Robin doesn’t waste time teasing her. She doesn’t move the fabric around, but pinches and tweaks at her nipples, waiting until they harden under her fingers before moving to the other side. Another carnal whimper leaves Nancy’s lips, she’s pressing into Robin’s hands at both points of contact, as if she’s not sure whether she wants to grind down or push her chest out, aching for more either way.

Moving her hand back down Nancy’s stomach, she digs her hand in at Nancy’s waist and holds her in place when she finally dips a finger into Nancy. It restricts the rhythm Nancy is trying to set. Otherwise, she'll take over and go at it without a care for if someone might hear or see them. Robin wants to keep a little control over the situation. Work Nancy up to her climax, force her to slow down and go at the pace Robin sets. They’ve done this enough times that Robin knows Nancy likes letting go like this, giving up some of that control, even if she’s pushing back the whole time.

She slowly works her finger in and out of Nancy, alternating between that and flicking against Nancy’s clit, rubbing quick circles that make Nancy’s hips jerk. It’s not enough to really get anywhere, but it’s enough to make Nancy whiny and writhe against her, petulant little sounds escaping without her seeming to notice. Sweat glistens on her forehead and neck and Robin wants to lick it off, wants to bury her face in Nancy’s skin and soak up her arousal.

Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #cross posted on twitter #also spicy #this will be 3 parts total #then posted to AO3 #katie writes

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learningnewways · 2 years ago

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Down Time

Over the last few days, the Destiny Rescue team have been away in Thailand at a conference, meaning we had a few days to ourselves to explore the city.

Q and I are both high achieving personalities who like to be busy, so when we realised we had a few days without the team and therefore without any work, we were frustrated. We didn’t know when we booked our flights that they were heading away, so of course lines like, “I paid x amount of money to be here to serve and learn, not to be a tourist!” went around in my head. Sure, a holiday is nice, but that’s not why I came here at all. But alas... The team was gone and we had no option, so we tried to enjoy it and learn more about their city and culture.

We spent a lot of time wandering the streets, eating out, finding markets and food stalls, and just generally exploring. As a foreigner, everywhere you go, people are calling out to you, “Lady, you wanna buy something?” “You come see my shop, I give you nice price...” “You want TukTuk?” In the markets, it seems like every shop sells the same things, so it’s hard to know who to buy from. I went into a few stalls and had a look around, ending up buying things I didn’t need... There were two times I was buying things and the ladies selling clothes said they hadn’t had any customers yet, that I’d be their first sale of the day. Of course that makes you want to buy because you feel sorry for them! But it’s hard to know if it’s true or not. It could be genuinely true, or it could be a sale tactic to pull on the foreigners heart strings. The further into the market you go, the more believable it is. On the street front, I think they would get many customers, whereas deep inside the market maze, I wonder how many people actually buy things.

Generally the people here are super kind and friendly, which is nice. I always chat with the hotel staff who know me by name. Q says I’m their favourite and he’s probably not wrong! I can’t imagine many people would take the time to get to know the hotel staff. But then most guests only stay for around three nights and we’re here for three weeks! So much more time to build relationships. I’m sure they’re confused as to why we’re here for so long and what we are doing. I ask them about their lives and make little jokes with them which they love. Whenever I walk past they say, “Hello Kimberly,” but they don’t say hello to Q, which I think is funny. They say hello, they just don’t call him by name, and I doubt they know many other hotel guests names. You get out what you put in I guess!

One day we found a line of street food stalls and got chatting to the lady who runs one. She was so lovely! I asked her about her business, lifestyle and family. She works very hard, working long hours and barely having time for her children, but she works hard to provide for them. She makes more money doing her own business than being employed my someone else, which she likes, as well as the independence and flexibility. Another day we went to a local cooking class which was so much fun. I love doing cooking classes overseas as you get to meet more people, you’re supporting local business, learning about their culture and food, and of course, you get to eat delicious goods! It was a bit of a drive out of the city, so it was nice to see the countryside too.

On Sunday we went to ICF church, which is a campus or church plant from the ICF movement, which started in Switzerland. It’s funded from Swiss donors and you can deeeefinitely tell! Swiss money goes a lot further overseas, particularly in poor places like this. Their facilities are next level crazy impressive. The main structure has a massive steel roof at about 15 metres high, 30 metres wide by 60 metres long, it is crazy big. The building is half open on all sides and half closed off. The closed off part is where they have church and when you walk in you feel like you’re in an American church with lights, cameras, smoke machines...etc. Their evening adults service was in both Cambodian and English, with the pastor being from Switzerland. Then the other more open part of the building is used for eating meals after the service, and even has... Wait for it... Q’s favourite part... A rock climbing wall! It was epic! And that’s just the main building, then they have offices, classrooms, football fields, a ninja warrior course over a man made lake... The list goes on.

Right across the road from the church is the ICF Wake Park, which again is hard to explain. Honestly, just Google or YouTube it. It’s nuts! It is so impressive and crazy and would’ve cost so much money to set up. It has a restaurant and man made beach section, as well as the actual wake park. Jaw dropping, that’s for sure. ICF only planted the church ten years ago and they’ve accomplished so much. It is truely inspiring. Seeing all that ICF did gave me heaps of ideas for The Gambia, and made me realise you can do almost anything if you have heaps of funding. Then I remembered I have no funding... Haha. So back to the drawing board! We got chatting to a staff member after the service and she invited us to come back sometime for a tour of the property and to hear more about what they do, which we are pumped for!

During our downtime, in the evenings we visited the city’s Pub Street, where there are lots of restaurants, loud music, and of course, pubs! It’s where most foreigners go to party the night away, however there is a much sinister side to it. A lot of girls sell themselves or are forced to sell themselves to men in the pubs. It looks different for every pub and every girl, depending on their age and the situation of course. But we saw a lot of “bar girls” as they call them, who wait in the pubs and flirt with the men before taking them out back or the men taking them away. From what we could see they were mainly women, but I know there are underage girls there as well, probably more hidden from view. They also have countless massage places, which also act as brothels essentially. They look just like massage parlours out front, but out back they offer more than just massages, and with younger girls too.

Overall it has been a great few days, but even still, my personality just wants to be out doing something worthwhile. I want to help the bar girls, not just walk past where they work. Of course being here for a few short weeks, I can’t “do” all that much to help, but I can shadow the team and learn a lot from them. It’s frustrating to come all this way and get straight into it, then be stalled for a few days. I just want to make the most of every opportunity, learn, information gather and support wherever I can. Not be a tourist. I wonder what God is trying to teach me... I mean, I’ve still learnt a lot from just chatting with locals, and definitely ICF got me excited. But I am looking forward to being back with the team tomorrow, for whatever they’re doing!

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sticksstonesbonespoems · 2 years ago

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Spring in Paris. The day began at 4:14 a.m. I am jazzed, pumped, but my body is reminding me that it has just crossed several time zones. There is a marche today - Le Marche aux Puces de Vanves. It is only today. In France it is a flea market (puces means fleas). In England it is a boot sale. There are several city blocks delineated by white lines where individuals can set up tables and tents. They back vans right up in the parking space in front to unload their wares. It is a holiday in France today so not all of the stalls are occupied.

The drive/desire to poke around in old things to find treasures is not limited to any one culture or country. It is also not inherited by everyone, but, boy do I have it in spades.

The marche was so much happiness! There were elderly French men with cheeky grins and jokes. No, monsieur, my abominable French is not “very good.” But by gum, I’m going to buy that salt glazed pottery from you, you bet! I found a delightful sewn doll with a beautiful little face who looked like a medieval troubadour. My children stared at me in dismay as if to say, “why did you buy that?” I don’t know, my child , sometimes the spirit of the junker moves in mysterious ways. I have so, so many things that bring me joy. Eat your heart out Marie Kondo.

Ken and I learned many things today: dawn is especially beautiful in Paris, taxis do not have to take you anywhere if they do not want to, a meter is much longer than you think when you are walking, Uber is a life-saver, two ladies running a Boulangerie will look at you like you are crazy when you try to buy the whole damn store and French people are so totally lovely.

The Red Wheelbarrow

So much depends

Upon

A red wheel

Barrow

Glazed with rain

Water

Beside the white

Chickens

William Carlos Williams

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solaflaire · 1 year ago

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Starham: Q and A (Fourth set of 50 Questions)

Link for questions: 500 Good Questions to Ask - Find the perfect question (conversationstartersworld.com)

What happens in your country regularly that people in most countries would find strange or bizarre? • Doing art as a career is not viable.

What has been blown way out of proportion? • My games. 🤣

When was a time you acted nonchalant but were going crazy inside? • Spending time doing something but got interrupted by my uncle.

What’s about to get much better? • Everything

What are some clever examples of misdirection you’ve seen? • Financial advice.

What’s your funniest story involving a car? • The first time I learned to drive. I could not control the clutch pedal and the car kept stalling.

What would be the click-bait titles of some popular movies? • Fast and the Furious franchise and Netflix live-action remake.

If you built a themed hotel, what would the theme be and what would the rooms look like? • A video game memorabilia themed hotel. The rooms would be Super Mario themed like Princess Peach’s castle.

What scientific discovery would change the course of humanity overnight if it was discovered? • A way to sleep for less hours but as effective as taking a pill.

Do you think that humans will ever be able to live together in harmony? • No, Call of Duty is very popular, and I don’t see any peace in that game.

What would your perfect bar look like? • If the drinks were great and the price low.

What’s the scariest non-horror movie? • The one my drama teacher ventured into.

What’s the most amazing true story you’ve heard? • Eragon. My friend told me the story of Eragon. I was so in awe that I went to get the book.

What’s the grossest food that you just can’t get enough of? • Orange juice instead of milk in cereal.

What brand are you most loyal to? • PlayStation gang rise.

What’s the most awkward thing that happens to you on a regular basis? • Not having money.

If you had to disappear and start a whole new life, what would you want your new life to look like? • Never thought of that. Not really.

What movie or book do you know the most quotes from? • Harry Potter – I love them so much!

What was one of the most interesting concerts you’ve been to? • Post Malone’s concert. The live one that was streamed on YouTube. Man, that was amazing!

Where are you not welcome anymore? • My mom’s kitchen while she is working.

What do you think could be done to improve the media? • More coverage of yesterday’s news.

What’s the most recent show you’ve binge watched? • The aquatope on the white sand.

What’s the worst movie trope? • Plot armor, in really dark movies when an innocent child dies or when there is a bad omen at the beginning of the film such as a diagnosis. Like, I already know what is going to happen. I wish I could see some good plot twists but have not in recent times.

What’s a common experience for many people that you’ve never experienced? • Losing virginity. Virgin gang rise up.

What are some misconceptions about your hobby? • It is for smart people.

What’s the smartest thing you’ve seen an animal do? • Backflip

What’s the most annoying noise? • Baby ugly crying.

What’s your haunted house story? • I leave my phone in my pockets when entering the house. I have dropped it far too many times being absent minded and just losing it after opening the door.

What did you Google last? • Does size mattir?

What’s the dumbest thing someone has argued with you about? • Does size matter.

If money and practicality weren’t a problem, what would be the most interesting way to get around town? • Taxi

What’s the longest rabbit hole you’ve been down? • Does size matter.

What’s the saddest scene in a movie or TV series? • Demon Slayer – Reng*ku. If you know, you know.

What’s the most frustrating product you own? • I think the question should be what product am I frustrated not having. Crocs and an a mouth guard. Honestly, my life would be so much easier with those two things.

What inconsequential super power would you like to have? • Read people’s minds. If not, just being able to sense what emotion they are feeling at the moment.

What qualities do all your friends have in common? • I don’t have friends. All of the friends I have made came from Sony, Nintendo, Steam and Xbox.

What odd smell do you really enjoy? • The milk my dad was supposed to get.

What’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild? • Your mom.

What’s the best lesson you’ve learned from a work of fiction? • Just read Harry Potter. So many great lessons. Especially from the Chamber of Secrets.

What food do you crave most often? • Your mom.

Who in your life has the best / worst luck? • My brother has the best of luck.

What fashion trend makes you cringe or laugh every time you see it? • Just watch New York Fashion Week or don’t.

What’s your best story of you or someone else trying to be sneaky and failing miserably? • My friend tried sliding in a girl’s dm’s. He ended up being bro’d.

Which apocalyptic dystopia do you think is most likely? • People waking up and all their saved game data has been erased from the cloud.

If you had a HUD that showed three stats about any person you looked at, what three stats would you want it to show? • Horniness • Intelligence • Humor

What’s the funniest thing you’ve seen a kid do? • Figuring out if size matters.

What’s your secret talent? • Analyzing data.

What’s the best way you or someone you know has gotten out of a ticket / trouble with the law? • Never been in trouble with the law.

Tear gas makes people cry and laughing gas makes people giggle, what other kinds of gases do you wish existed? • I wish money gas existed.

What’s the most beautiful beach you’ve been to?

Just go to Hawaii. You will thank me later.

#q and a #answers #q and a time #questions

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engbergeurovacay23 · 1 year ago

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On Friday, we decided to take advantage of having the rental car until 3:00 p.m., which is when we believed the rental car location in the city center closed. We decided we were going to drive about 35 minutes east of Helsinki to a town of 50,000 people: Porvoo. Our drive was relatively uneventful, though I meant to mention before that our Skoda is a standard transmission and even though that is all Eric drove until a few years ago, it did take him a little bit of time to get used to it again. I can tell you, now that we returned the car, he did not stall once 👍

Once we arrived to Porvoo, we noticed that there appeared to be a small ski area at the edge of the town, which was a seaside town with very cute old-style homes. From reading a little bit about Porvoo, it does have a significant Swedish-speaking population. Some towns in Finland still do, and some don't hit all. Tove Jansson (the author of the Moomin books), for example, was a Swedish-speaking Finn. Anyway, as our first stop we checked out the ski area--Kokonniemi. As I mentioned, it was quite small and had one main run down the face of the hill. To the left of that hill was a staircase up, and there were people doing all kinds of fitness-related things, like running up and down the stairs multiple times. Of course my kids and Eric wanted to do just that. I did walk up the 350 steps once and that was plenty for me 😆

We noticed to the left of the stairs that there was mountain biking, a ropes course, and a zipline. Once we went back down to the base, we inquired about the zipline. The people were super nice, and we apologized for our exceedingly enthusiastic and loud American children, and I said, "do you see many American children here?" And they said that they see some. I said, "Are any of them as loud as these children?" And they said that they've seen louder. That made me somewhat relieved.

To do the full, large zipline course, you would need about 3 hours and that was about 2 hours more than we had. So we did the children's ropes course and zipline and the kids got all helmeted, harnessed, and geared up for that and spent over an hour, part of it in rain that was absolutely pouring; they climbed on the ropes course and Cece got one bad rope burn in the process. They both loved the zipline, sometimes goinf side-by-side (there were two lines), together, holding hands. They had so much fun. Eric noticed that there were tons of mosquitoes, so that wasn't ideal, and the kids have both been itching away the after-effects of that since, though it isn't too bad. Those mosquitoes just can't compete with Michigan mosquitoes 😆

The kids were contented to finish up after their hour and then we drove and parked in the city center of the small town and walked to the historic 18th century church, through the cobblestone streets. We went to a K Supermarket, and this one was massive and potentially could compete with Tokmanni, because the whole second floor was all home goods and paper goods and it seemed amazing, if I'd had more time to shop! But, we got some lunch-time snacks and then we realized we really had to rush in order to get back by the three o'clock Budget rental car deadline! Actually, when we got into the car we realized that we weren't going to make that deadline. So I looked up the phone number, and in doing so, I realized that they actually closed at 5:00. Whew.

We drove back to Helsinki in a little bit of rain. We returned the car and then walked back to our apartment and stopped at a playground that the kids loved from last year; it features this crazy teeter-totter-ing, bouncing, spinning structure. I wanted to go on a few stops myself, one of them to the Postie, their post office, because I discovered I could ship a box for about 40 euros that contained all of the fabric and kids clothes that we purchased. That way we could still return home with just carry-on luggage in case we could do a standby for an earlier flight to Albuquerque on Sunday. That is what we're hoping to do! So, I went to the Posti and got a box and all the information about setting up the shipment online. Once we got back to the Airbnb, I did indeed set up the shipment online and it was pretty straightforward.

Then, I'd wanted it all of us to go to a restaurant I'd read about, basically on our block, called The Seahorse. It's apparently something of a Helsinki institution (since 1934!), famous with --as the website says --the man on the street as well as local politicians and celebrities. Diverse international celebrities have also paid it a visit over the last almost 90 years, including Jean-Paul Sartre, and I've always been a big fan of that guy's, so after learning that, we just had to go.

No, Eric isn't a huge fan of "fancy" restaurants, and this one was not necessarily super "fancy," but going there did push him a bit out of his comfort zone. I did book a reservation online, but when we showed up they didn't have it, but we got the last table they had, in the front dining room, rather than in the back, more-busy one. If we'd known what any Finnish politicians looked like, that would have been the place to spot them. Entering into that dining room, there was a "no photographs" sign (just like Honest John's in Detroit used to have!). Anywhere there are "no photographs" signs, you know some real camera-shy people might be in attendance ;)

Dinner was a fun treat for sure. I got something called a "Vegetarian Wallenberg," which is basically a vegetable patty, and it was sitting on top of a mound of mashed potatoes, edged with lingonberries. It was very delicious! Eric got perch, Rowan got meatballs, and Cece got Salmon. Rowan's meal came with a desert, which was frozen cranberries in toffee sauce, and we all shared that--and it was amazing.

After dinner, everyone was tired. Eric conked out right away and once I got the kids to bed, I thought they also conked out, but Cece came into the kitchen about 45 minutes after I'd put her to bed, and then, the next morning, Rowan told me he was up at 4:30 a.m. and did not sleep well all night! Now, it does appear that he is the one with some kind of ailment, when a few days ago, it seemed that Cece had something!

Once or two more vacay posts to go! I will report on our last day in Helsinki, Saturday, and perhaps our flights home on Sunday! The day after we arrive home, we will be getting our Bedlington Terrier puppy, Alex Sándor Engberg. How we arrived at this name is a huge, long story, but if I told it to you and you saw how thrilled the kids were with it after many names that Eric and I loved but they didn't, you'd love Alex Sándor, too.

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rhetoricandlogic · 1 year ago

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Middle Book Syndrome: Benjanun Sriduangkaew – Mirrorstrike

If you’ve read my review of Sriduangkaew’s beautiful novella Winterglass, you know that my one gripe with it was that it felt so unfinished, like the beginning of a bigger story. Well, apparently the author felt the same because here is the sequel in what will probably be a trilogy.

There are some spoilers below for the first book in the series, although I think Winterglass is just as enjoyable to read even if you already know what happens.

There are few retellings that gripped me as much as Winterglass did. With striking language, brilliant characters, original world building and the beginning of a kick-ass plot, it had everything I wanted from a retelling. Some of the things I loved so much are continued in this sequel, although I have to say it could have used some more editing. The plot meanders and it felt like it couldn’t quite decide which direction it wanted to go. Are we still in a science-fantasy retelling? Because we drift off into very cheesy romance territory at times… but let’s start at the beginning.

Nuawa is now a lieutenant in the Winter Queen’s service and she’s also started a relationship with general Lussadh, that most intriguing of characters. Unfortunately, the characters and world building really stalled in this book, or in some cases was even less present than before. Nuawa’s goal is still destroying the Winter Queen, working closely by her enemy to discover weaknesses and exploit them. So far, so exciting. But instead of the active part she played in the first book, in this one she mostly just reacts to other people’s actions. She is still kick-ass and her character grows throughout the story, but she has much less agency than she did in Winterglass and the book was just a little less good for it.

One of the most interesting aspects of the first book was the world building. Set in an alternate Thailand (or at least South East Asia), winter rules supreme since the Winter Queen conquered the land. With people’s ghosts used for power, magical ghost kilns which extract those ghosts from living people, science-fantasy style chiurgeons who can perform unbelievable feats, and magic weapons that can kill someone by hurting their shadow, there was so much to discover, so many little things that I wanted to learn more about. Sadly, there is almost nothing new in this book about ghosts or the kilns or even how this conquered world even really works, government-wise. Most of those ideas are treated as throw-away lines here and there. It felt like the author had lost all drive to establish her world further, or maybe she hadn’t thought her ideas through to the end. What was imaginative in the first book felt like window dressing in this one. The one thing Sriduangkaew does give her readers is more information about the Winter Queen’s origins and the power of those glass fragments that created her glass bearers. While interesting, that didn’t nearly reach the level of world building and lore from the first book.

As I already mentioned, the characters also seem to have lost a lot of their strength. I don’t mean physical strength – both Nuawa and Lussadh are still amazing fighters – but I’m talking more about their agency and personalities. Nuawa has done some crazy stuff in the first book in order to get close to the Winter Queen and achieve her goal of avenging her country and her family. Lussadh has equally been through horrible things, but while in Winterglass she was surrounded by a mesmerizing aura of mystery, all of that was gone in Mirrorstrike. It’s nice to see those two as a happy-ish couple but they exchanged some serioiusly cheesy lines and felt like cliché people from a bad romance story. Nuawa does go through an interesting development, although it is lessened by the fact that it’s so blatantly stated instead of being shown subtly. She is warned that being a glass-bearer will turn her more and more to the Queen’s side, make her willing to help the Queen stay in power, and Nuawa feels that pull and has to fight it. But this also felt like something that came and went, being very visible in one chapter only to be almost forgotten in the next. Nuawa was such a standout strong character and now she felt kind of wishy-washy. Sometimes she feels how the Queen draws her in, then that’s all forgotten and she pursues her goal single-mindedly again.

As for the plot… that was the weakest part of the book. A lot of little things happen, only some of which pushed the plot forward, and most of which felt like distjointed scenes put together somehow. There is a plot line about traitors to the Queen plus some assassination attempts – and that just fizzles out. There is a new character who has connections to Nuawa’s past, and while I think that story will continue in the next book, it was also left hanging in this one, rather unceremoniously. What bothered me the most was that it felt like I could see through the writing. It felt like the author wanted to get a piece of information across – like the Winter Queen’s weakness or a hidden truth about Nuawa’s mothers – and the scene did just that, but nothing more. And I know the author can do more, she proved that over and over in the first book. I actually re-read Winterglass before starting this one and even on the second reading, that book was just amazing. Mirrorstrike felt like a bit of a mess in comparison, with no red thread to follow, random things happening here and there, but very little that connects it to the bigger plot hinted at in Winterglass.

But the one thing that still stands out and that made this still a very good book is the language. You kind of have to like that particular style, but if you do, you’ll love it. It’s lyrical, it has big words, and it flows beautifully. I did think that Sriduangkaew overdid it a few times in this book, maybe trying a tad too hard to sound poetic and ending up with something more resembling ridiculous, mostly during the romantic exchanges between Nuawa and Lussadh. But for most of the book, the prose is gorgeous and paints vivid pictures in the reader’s mind. And it kept me reading even though the somewhat disjointed plot kept confusing me.

This is definitely a case of middle book syndrome but at 160 pages, that is forgivable. The ending delivered a nice little twist (which made sure I’d want to read the next book) and, sadly, another super cheesy moment. But I’ll forgive that because I really finally want to know how the story ends and whether the Winter Queen can be vanquished. Now all I have to do is wait for the third book…

#Benjanun Sriduangkaew #Mirrorstrike #mahreviews #long post

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sparklingchim · 3 years ago

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oops..; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

rating: 18+

genre: smut, idol!au, secret relationship, established relationship

warnings: quickie, koo is a needy boy, sex in a public bathroom stall, unprotected sex, clit play, spit kink, tattoo kink?, finger sucking, choking, getting caught by paparazzi, mentions of handcuffing, blowjob, cum swallowing, groping

summary: a quickie in the airport restroom was all it was supposed to be - not suddenly the whole world finding out about your secret relationship with jungkook.

a/n: the title is so ingenious isn't it😌😌 this is literally just an excuse to write something about jk in his cool airport fashion looks hehe

masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

,,You're acting like a hormonal teenager."

Despite your complains you allow Jungkook to drag you to the restrooms.

,,I swear we'll be quick."

,,Can't you wait till we get home?"

,,You're teasing me since this morning and dare to ask that question?"

You frown. You're only able to recall how you scolded him this whole morning because his clothes were all over your hotel room and he was being way too slow with packing his things, despite having to leave in an hour.

,,I've never teased you."

Jungkook turns his head to look back at you, you can't see his whole face due to the bucket head and black mask covering it, but you bet he's arching his newly pierced eyebrow right now.

He knows you too well to quickly realise that the clueless look on your face is genuine and that you aren't messing around with him - you are actually oblivious to the things you did this morning, very much to his wonder.

,,Doesn't matter, right now I just wanna feel your tight pussy around my cock."

,,What if there are people?"

,,Wait here and I'll check if someone's there. If I don't come out within 10 seconds you can come inside too," Jungkook tells you, letting go of your hand and entering the men's restroom.

With vigilant eyes you observe your surroundings. Trying to look casual and insouciant. Perhaps it's a little too much, there are barely any people at the airport at this early hour. Just a few people strolling around, far away.

You wait a bit longer than ten seconds, but when you're sure that Jungkook would have returned if there were any people in, you enter the restroom as well.

Before you are able to say something about the fancy facility, Jungkook captures your lips in a hungry kiss as he pushes his face mask down his face.

He sighs while moving his lips passionately against yours. Hands on your hips, he directs you to a bathroom stall, knocking the door open with his foot.

He carelessly throws his big backpack on the floor, pressing you against the wall.

With the door locked, his hands start roaming over your curves and swells. He gives your butt a good squeeze, trailing his hands up your hips to your heavy breasts.

,,You drive me crazy," he murmurs between kisses placed on your décolleté.

,,You're wearing way too many layers," you huff as you examine Jungkook's upper body, trying to tug his black jacket down.

,,We don't need to take off our clothes, baby." Kissing up your neck he's back at the sweet spot just under your earlobe.

,,Please?" you plead, tempting him by reaching your hand under his clothes and skimming over his abs. ,,Wanna see your tattoos."

He chuckles. Jungkook can't forbid it when you bat your eyelashes at him that cute way, so he shimmies his jacket off his shoulders and you help him getting out of his pullover.

,,C'mere," he says as soon as his clothes are thrown on top of his backpack.

Hoisting your body off the ground you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

One greedy hand is situated between your legs, one smooth motion and your panties are flicked aside, digits roaming over your dripping pussy.

,,My girl's so wet," Jungkook hums. A sweep over your swollen clit and you're already uttering a whimper. He grins. ,,Like that?"

,,Jungkook," you scold, though you have to admit that it sounds more like a whine. ,,Don't tease. Make this fast. You promised."

With your reminder, he pulls his black cargo pants down together with his briefs till his cock springs out.

You're stunned at his hard-on, the tip leaking with precum already.

,,I want you so badly," he mumbles, smooching your face.

You titter. ,,The times at the resort weren't enough for you?" You already lost count of how many times he fucked you by the time you went to sleep the first day. You believe that there's no surface left in the room that Jungkook didn't bend you over to claim what's his.

,,I could never get enough of you," he admits, biting the flesh above your collarbone.

And with that, Jungkook slides inside of you, the stretch of his girth a pleasant feeling that you welcome. Wholly tucked inside your heat he meets the beginning of your cervix, and without having to move you are already a whiny mess for him.

,,Baby," he whispers with a cautionary undertone, a hint of amusement at your reaction portrayed in the curve of his lips.

You stare at him, innocently, fingers cramping at his biceps when he slowly rolls his hips into you.

,,Can you keep quiet for me? Hm? Can you do that?"

Honestly, you're not sure.

,,Dunno," you reply, fingers gripping at his burly arms as he sets a fast pace, both of your bodies colliding with each snap of his hips.

And because Jungkook sees the exact moment when he adjust you on his hips, his cock reaching that spot inside you and as your twisted face prepares to utter a loud moan, he takes the opportunity to plunge two of his fingers inside your mouth. You immediately close your mouth around him, sucking on his digits like the obedient girl you are.

Now moans muffled and keeping this as 'quiet' as possible, Jungkook thrusts faster inside. He heaves a few strained grunts, the tightness of your pussy leaving him no option for complete silence.

Seeing his bare, tattooed arm while he rams inside you is somehow enkindling the burning knot in your stomach. Every new tattoo he adds on his arm is making him more desirable. And now with the new eyebrow piercing you've finally lost everything. He was effortlessly handsome and hot before all of this, but now with these added details it's just another perk for your sly eyes.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth he puts them inside his, this simple action making your walls quiver in glee. After sucking your saliva off his fingers, his lips move to your neck and he plants butterfly kisses all over your skin. When his hands sneak under your pullover - which actually belongs to him - he halts in his movements, pinching his brows as he leans back with his head.

,,Where's your bra?"

,,Took it off."

You throw your arms around his neck, wanting to pull him back to your mouth, but he resists.

,,You wore that sexy bra this whole morning, teasing me with walking around in that matching set, just to take it off again?" He is surprised that he didn't even see when you took that damn thing off. The way it made your perky breasts squish together is still clearly rooted in his mind.

,,I didn't tease you."

,,You don't consider constantly bending down in front of me in sexy lingerie as teasing?"

He thrusts his cock back inside, going deeper and harder. You mewl, shaking your head. ,,I was just packing the last few things in our suitcases."

,,Wanted to throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out so badly." Tattooed fingers enclose your throat, putting pressure on the sides.

More juice gushes from your hole, the wet noises reverberating around the empty room increasing.

,,You're-" His cockhead nudging your cervix every time he lunges forward is stealing all your functioning brain cells and squashes them into a mass of nothingness, leaving your fighting with the sentences you want so say. ,,You're doing a pretty good job succeeding in that right now."

Having to hold back loud moans that are waiting to spill from you on the tip of your tongue is hard, but watching Jungkook in his determined, fucked out state, pumping his dick into you with precise thrusts makes you sink your teeth into your lips, almost drawing blood.

,,Yeah? You like the way my cock splits you open?"

You nod promptly. Nails dig into his shoulders. He furrows his brows and you follow the way his piercing moves along, the two little silver balls twinkling under the bright lights of the room.

,,Wanted to fuck you in that sexy outfit," Jungkook pants, pace quickening when he imagines drilling your cock into you while you are wearing the lingerie again.

,,When we get home - oh god - when we get home you can," you promise.

,,Want to cuff your hands too."

Your eyes roll back. Walls fluttering around his thick girth. ,,Everything you want."

,,Good little slut," he groans, cock twitching within your tight grasp. ,,You're close?"

You can barely nod, eyebrows pinched when the hand from your throat sneaks down and rubs your clit in precise movements.

,,Jungkook." Moaning his name, your head falls back and he can't dismiss the chance to create pink and purple marks on your skin.

With Jungkook all over you and his cock thrusting inside in rigid drags, the tight knot in your stomach bursts in a sudden sensation, pleasure filling every part of your body.

Somehow managing to draw him even closer to you, you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and bite down his skin to mute the moan that nearly fled your mouth.

,,Good girl," he coos, fingers combing through your hair in reassurance.

Jungkook holds you close to him as he drills his throbbing cock inside your clenching cunt, your essence painting his length in white stripes every time he pulls his cock back out.

,,Can I cum inside?"

Pondering about his questions for a second you answer, ,,Let's not make a mess." You slide your fingers down his buff arms. ,, Cum inside my mouth?"

Jungkook immediately pulls out of you, hand stroking his cock briskly.

,,Then get on your knees, now." Voice strained from his nearing high he pushes your shoulder down, prompting you to kneel in front of him.

Taking his cock between your lips, you focus on moving up and down his length. Jungkook groans at the feeling of your mouth around him, hand absentmindedly reaching behind your head, but not pushing you further down.

,,Just the tip, baby - fuck, yes - just like that."

Sucking on his tip and looking up at him with doe eyes you feel your mouth salivating at the thought of swallowing his cum.

Not long after that, Jungkook bursts hot white fluid down your throat and you swallow every drop of it. Giving him a few final strokes with your mouth before you withdraw with a lewd plop.

Both of you are panting, Jungkook's chest heavily rising up and down as his cock softens. He pulls you in for a kiss. Your heart swells at his tenderness.

While still calming down from your orgasms you don't have much time to bask in the afterglow. You tuck your panties in place and walk out of the stall to fix your hair. Jungkook stays behind, throwing his clothes over his body.

,,My hair looks like a nest," you mumble as you struggle to brush your fingers through the back of your head. Being pressed against the bathroom stall with your hair constantly rubbing against it through Jungkook bouncing you on his dick hasn't been benevolent to your hair.

While strolling towards you Jungkook gives your butt a playful smack before pecking your cheek.

,,We should probably leave before someone comes in," you say, looking at him through the mirror. His cheeks are painted in a slight flush, the sparks of his high still depicted on his face. It's adorable.

Jungkook nods, though he's making no effort in actually carrying it out.

,,Want some chapstick?" he asks, pulling out a strawberry flavoured.

You turn your head to him and he finely coats your lips in a thin layer of chapstick. Watching him being so concentrated at his task makes you nearly coo and smooch his nose.

After putting some of the chapstick on his lips too he throws his bag over his shoulder.

,,Ready to go?"

,,Shouldn't we leave separately? I don't want anyone to see us coming out of the restroom together," you answer.

,,Nah, we should be fine. There's no one out there."

But oh boy, how wrong he was.

As soon as Jungkook opens the door, both your hands intertwined, you are surprised by flashing lights and a horde of people standing - waiting - all around the entrance of the men's restroom.

Escaping the blinding light by hiding behind Jungkook you screw your eyes shut. The distinct sounds of people taking countless of pictures of you get muted once Jungkook awakens from his shock-induced paralysis and shuts the door close.

,,Shit," he curses under his breath.

You're shocked. Unable to say anything.

,,D-did they-" You point at yourself, mouth hanging open.

,,They...saw you too, yes." He talks slow, like he also can't grasp what just happened.

The way he torn up the door and practically presented you two to the whole mob of people standing outside could be comical if it wasn't for the burden you know will follow after this event.

,,Wait, do I still look freshly fucked?" you say, disquietingly brushing your fingers through your hair as you look into the mirror next to you.

,,I mean, what else is there to assume if we both come out of an empty bathroom?"

,,Oh, you're...right..." The position you're both in is way too suspicious, you come to realise. Puffing, you turn to him, scanning his face for help or advice for what you should do now.

,,I have a plan."

You perk at that. Brows lifted and await his explanation.

Jungkook holds out his hand for you.

,,Let's run."

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook idol!au #bts scenario #kpop smut #bts x reader

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cambria-writes · 2 years ago

Text

it's time for another honey update!

getting dangerously close to the last of the chapters i already have written and i am sweating. i'm also low (high) key a bit insecure about how short this is lmao.

anyways enjoy!

pairing: patrick jane x reader word count: 2,058 rating: T, each chapter rated individually warning: alcohol consumption, brief mention of drugs, fake relationship trope, that's it!

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℭ𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯

It doesn’t take you long. Once you’re outside of the CBI, the air feels different. You watch the people walk by. Drive by. Hear the cars rev and stall and honk. It’s almost overwhelming. You shrug your bag higher on your shoulder, pull out your phone. You have so many missed calls and messages that your phone has opted out of counting them.

It is absolutely a spur of the moment decision, but you call one of your coworkers. Take a chance.

“Skye? Is that you? Oh my god! Oh my go—Luce! It’s Skye!” Miranda’s at work then. Marvelous. You hear several people through her phone. Sounds like people are shoving at each other to talk to you.

“Skye? Benraft, Skye? The one who got shot and didn’t tell me, that Skye?,” your manager demands. You can’t help but laugh nervously.

“Yeah, uh. Hi Lucy,” you reply lamely. You shuffle down the road you’re on. There should be a Starbucks nearby. Right? “I have a crazy favour. Who’s off today and doesn’t hate me?"

You hear Lucy pull the phone away and ask around. Hear the ruffling of pages; looking through the schedule, probably.

“Charlie doesn’t work today,” Lucy trails off. More papers rustle. “Steph, too, and Bill? Probably? What’s the favour? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine, kind of. Is anyone willing to make a trip to Sacramento?”

Stephan is eventually tasked with picking you up. You found a Starbucks to spend your time in. The two and a half hour wait is grueling. You look over your shoulder every other time you hear the door open. You feel like a teenager that sneaked out past curfew. It’s ridiculous—you weren’t being kept at the CBI for any real reason, you’d already given as many statements as you could—but it still feels like running away.

It also feels like spitting in the face of Patrick Jane and his hospitality. However much it may have been in spite of literally everyone else around him.

Stephan, blissfully, is the kind of person who understands. He stays mostly quiet during the trip back to Yuba. Gives you control of the aux cord. You make sure to keep the volume low and the songs aligned with his tastes.

He doesn’t drop you off at home, not yet. You walk into work, hailed like a hero. You hate it. Someone bumps into your thigh, makes it feel like your whole leg is bruised.

You should really shower. Again. You can still smell the tea in your hair. Ultimately, you keep quiet. Lucy needs to sort out how the hell you’re going to get paid. If you are. Beyond being alive and able to return to your life, you don’t care about the details.

You miss your bed.

Lucy personally takes you back to your apartment. You try insisting that it’s completely pointless. She doesn’t hear any of it. She drops you off with a promise to be back tomorrow. You’re told to go see a doctor for your bullet graze and not to come into work until Monday.

This is when you realize that it’s Wednesday. You had no idea what day it was. A look at the stove’s display says you had no idea what time it was either. The sun’s barely beginning to set. You try not to wonder where the day went.

You shower. Change. Brush your hair absently. It looks like half of it fell off on the brush. You bake a frozen chicken pot pie and proceed to eat the entire thing by yourself. Binge watch YouTube videos.

You fall asleep to the hum of your vibrating phone and words ringing in your head.

Sharpen that fear into a knife.

You wake up to one missed call and one voice message. You don’t recognize the number. Something in the back of your sleep-addled brain tells you who it is. You ignore it until you’ve had your coffee.

“Skye. Call me.” That’s it. That’s the whole message Mr Jane left. You have a warm cup of coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You check Facebook and Instagram. Go through Tumblr. It’s nearly ten in the morning before you consider calling back.

You don’t. You send a text message and save the number. You barely have time to put your phone back down before it starts buzzing.

“Hi,” is the best greeting you can manage. Clear your throat.

“Where are you?” He’s worried. It makes your throat clench even more.

“I’m—I came home yesterday,” you start. Cut him off to continue explaining. “I had someone from work come to get me. I’m alright. I just... I heard Agent Lisbon, I just. I didn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Jane whispers. You can hear the understanding in the quiet tone. You don’t sigh despite your relief. “You’re back in Yuba then?”

Wait a beat. “Yeah. Should I ask why?”

“I’m taking you out tonight. Be ready at six.” You don't have time to ask what you’re supposed to wear before the line is dead. You stare at your phone incredulously while the dead line screams angrily at you.

It’s barely seven past ten. You’ve got eight hours to get ready. This... theoretically shouldn’t be a problem. Right?

It’s 5:55PM and you still can’t decide what to wear. In a fit of desperation, you find a coin to toss in the air. Heads, the dress. Tails, the blouse and black pants.

It lands on tails

You throw on the dress anyways. It’s your favourite cut, and you can never go wrong with a black dress. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

You nearly jump out of your skin when your phone vibrates with a text message. You don’t even read it; just toss your phone and its charger in your purse along with your wallet, slip into some comfortable black flats and bolt out the door. Which you almost forget to lock behind you.

You all but throw yourself in the waiting Citroen. Jane only glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Takes a few minutes into the drive for him to speak up.

“You clean up nice,” is all he says, eyes never leaving the road.

You also keep your eyes glued ahead. Shrug, Fisher with a fistful if black dress. “You always wear a suit and you didn’t tell me what I should wear. I made a safe bet.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. No radio, no conversation. You could probably get answers if you ask questions, but... you find yourself not needing answers. Despite everything you know and everything that’s happened, you find yourself trusting this man entirely. Even if he does use you as bait for another criminal hunt, he wouldn’t let you die, right?

The familiar clenching in your gut reminds you that you are, in fact, extremely nervous. Feels like ice pulsing through your veins for a second. Close your eyes, take a deep breath; don’t give yourself any ideas. Don’t expect anything. Just go with it.

The restaurant you end up at is something you definitely can’t afford. The kind of place with an actual dress code. You look at Jane, try to read something on his face. Did he know you’d dress up? Did he make an educated guess? Was this his plan A or B? Shake yourself out of it when Jane steps out of his car. He walks around to open the door for you and extends his hand to help you out. Then promptly tosses the key over the hood to... a valet? Christ, you really can’t afford this place.

Jane puts your hand in the crook of his elbow and guides you towards glass french doors. “Don’t worry,” he whispers conspiratorially, leaning down. “The owner owes me a favour for discovering that his chef was running a drug ring in his kitchen.”

Choke on yourself a little; you definitely weren’t expecting that. Not sure what you were expecting, but definitely not that. Ignore the prickle of fear at the back of your neck. The drug ring is gone. There’s nothing to worry about.

When Jane leads you inside, you try to school your face. It’s fancy. Regardless of your wardrobe choice you feel obnoxiously underdressed. Even if you wanted to, you don’t have time to take in the setting. There’s a very noticeable table at the back of the place, off to your right. Two men in suits with too much bulk and an old man that looks like he has enough money to buy the entire restaurant and the people in it. You don’t snap your head away; too obvious. You make it look like you’re scoping the place out. Not sure what your expression is doing. What’s Jane doing to your left hand..?

“Good evening, name?” The host’s greeting is soft and almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost. Shouldn’t be a surprise that Jane has a reservation. The restaurant is almost full; how long ago had he planned this? Were you a last-minute switch, a stand-in for someone else? What was going on?

“Mr and Mrs Jane, thank you.”

You do your best to breathe.

In.

And out.

You do your best to make it look like you just aren’t used to the change in name yet. But your mind stutters at the implication. Okay, you’re trying to fly under the radar. Why? The not-at-all-mobsters table? Is there something else you’re missing? Who are you trying to fool?

“Congratulations! I’ll be sure to let the chef know.” The host’s voice eventually snaps you out of your thoughts and you nod as excitedly as you can muster, letting Mr Jane lead you by the arm.

“You’re doing great. Just keep playing along,” Jane whispers into your ear. You do your best impression of a flustered and embarrassed new wife. It isn’t hard. Jane’s proximity to your ear makes the blood rush to your face. It’s stupid. At any other time you would’ve shaken your head clear and tried to focus on something else.

But there’s nothing else to focus on. Once you’re seated, the table is too small for you to really fidget. And then Mr Jane leans forward and puts both his hands on the table. Palms up. Ah, fuck. Alright. Okay.

You carefully place your hands into his. You single the ring finger in your left hand. That must have been what you felt. A dainty soaking ring glints there. And somehow fits perfectly. You try not to think about it too much.

“You saw them earlier,” Jane started quietly. The corners of his mouth pull up in mimicry of a man trying to hold his laughter. He leans forward; you follow suit. Try to ignore how close his face is. This is serious.

“The scary money man and his two stooges?,” you ask to confirm. He nods. “What about them?”

“Oh, absolutely nothing. Vasily Dostoyev is just another old man with money. We’re here for his son.” Mr Jane moves his eyes somewhere behind you. Try to remember who all else was at that table. Two goons, Old Money man, Trophy Wife... maybe the one sitting a little ways off staring out the window like the street lamps were about to kill him?

Jane must see the look of recognition on your face and nods. Rubs circles in the backs of your hands with his thumbs. It feels very reminiscent of the first night you spent at the CBI.

“So why am I here?”

Jane releases your hand to cup your face in his hands. You feel like your skin is about to combust. He leans forward to press his forehead against yours.

“You, my dear, are going to test your knife tonight.”

A waiter brings two large classes of wine. Jane raises his in a toast to you. And while anxiety bubbles in your chest unpleasantly, there’s something else underneath it that growls, needy and hungry. You clink your glass with his.

“To us,” you offer, hoping the fear and uncertainty in your voice can be misconstrued as excitement.

Jane’s expression changes in a way you can barely see or understand. Here’s something dark lurking just under the surface. You could see it, if only you could just dig a little.

“To us indeed.”

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@fucklife-or-me @yearningforsappho @mamacakeishereforfun

#honey and the hatchet #patrick jane x reader #the mentalist #patrick jane #patrick jane fanfiction #the mentalist fanfiction

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