#ooop excuse me this took me A Minute

[bitmiscuous]

immortality is such a heavy burden and the selkie knows this almost better than anyone. some think it a blessing , and perhaps it is. perhaps sometimes , it provides an opportunity to see the world and everything in it. to have experiences no mortal could. but for aniela , the worst part always was loss. death of others. of her friends , her lovers , found family , animal companions. the bonds that she created with creatures mortal and vulnerable. " i want to stop losing people i love. "

supernatural, seasons 1 - 5 starters. / accepting .

✝     ———-    ❛   mm .   ❜ the burden of kinship weights heavy on the younger androshchuk's tongue , much as he desires to avoid dwelling on such gloomy thoughts , he does . mortals are best when they are ripe and flushed , with their hearts pumping wild and their chests full of songs , but like the roses in his garden , they always wither too soon . eventually death comes for the reaping , and time eats what is left of them . their songs fade , so does the memory of their face . they become echoes , blurred shapes dancing through history , until they are no more , and every footprints they've left on this earth is erased .

his desire to cling to these things is unnatural , and he knows , he knows well his maker is right : to love such fickle things is foolish , nothing but an act of masochism . but he wants to , he wants to love and be loved , he wants to squeeze them so tight until their bones pop , and their necks break . this skin fits him so well , sometimes he forgets what's underneath , he walks among them , admires them , mimics them , envies them . he covets . because he cannot feel like they do . he is not what they are . not really . he is forever . he is eternal . his skin is cold , and it will never wrinkle , it will never rot , and oh ... how he craves the warmth of the sun , sometimes . ❛   people will always leave ... it's just what they do . ❜ his voice is cool and detached , mirroring his demeanor , but there is a shadow of something else there . sadness . ❛   but if you really love someone , they stay . they stay even if you don't want them to , even if you beg , and you cry , and you go insane trying to claw them out of your chest ... it's like having a splinter lodged into your heart . ❜

[errruvande]

One messy night (Drunk!Boromir x Reader)

Summary: A drunk Boromir, asking you to marry him

AN I saw that summary at @xreader-writing and though this is cute. So I changed the plot but saved the drunk buddy ahah Word Count: 1338 TW: well, obviously, alcohol intoxication, uncanonically alive post-war of-the-rings Boromir

Woah! That was the night. Boromir fell into your chambers looking like a text-book picture of a living mess: barefoot, ripped and wet shirt, pants were rolled up to his knees. He hiccuped, taking few gulps out of his cup - some drops ran down his chin and he wiped it with his sleeve.

You were watching him wobbling around the room, stumbling into furniture: twice almost fell, steadying himself by grubbing the back of the chair, or hanging onto the edge of the table. You’d been sitting in your bed, reading, enjoying the first and, probably, the last silent moment of that day. You looked at his approaching figure with the face of the dead seagull, eyes swollen and cheek clamped from the fist that your face was resting on.

“My looove,” Boromir lingered, bursting his hands forward and spitting the beer right on the carpet. Damn, you growled at him, standing up and hurrying to take the cup out of his wet and dirty hands and put it on the table to prevent more destruction. “ooops,” he hiccuped. “I am so sorry, my love, I am --”

“Wasted.” You ended the statement for him, turning round and trotting back to burrow yourself into your comfortable bed.

You wanted to be angry at him at that moment: ruined carpet, ruined clothes, ruined merry evening, - but you couldn’t. That was the loudest party since the Aragorn’s Coronation tonight, though it was way smaller, only a couple of friends. The main man was, what made Boromir even more drunk, Faramir who turned 37 the day before. So you made an excuse for your lover to get that drunk and stepped before you in that state of being.

“Y/n, do you know what I’ve been thinking about today?” Boromir, who previously lost his footing and finally fell flat on the floor, crawled to the bed and pulled himself up to see your face. You made an effort to shook your head, lifted it inches above your pillow and then dropped it back on the warm, smooth material. “Faramir was talking much about him being happy in marriage with Eowyn, and I thought--”

When he stuttered again, losing the train of his thought, you mocked him roughly. “Of going and trying to steal her and then marry her?”

For a minute silence fell between you two and you almost flew into a sleep, when Boromir, already climbed on and sat on the bedside, rubbed his reddish eyes and chuckled. “That was a good one, Y/n.” He licked his lower lip and exhaled, squeezing his eyes and trying his best to keep his head straight, though it was outrageously heavy and was pulling his whole upper body to the ground. “My love, Y/n,” he turned his upper body, pulled his legs on the bed, knees under his chest. Boromir took your hand and you raised your sight on his tired face. “I thought, er, I thought that I want to marry you, Y/n…”

You put your second hand under your back and pushed yourself into a sitting position. Your eyebrows cocked to your hairline. “Ah, really? You want to marry me?” He squeezed your hand he was holding in his and leant forward to kiss you, when you sat him down. “Are you sure you want it? Or are you just under Faramir’s impact?”

Boromir hadn’t followed your thought, he listened to you and his head tilted on the side and brows pulled together. “Wha- what, my love?” He put his hands on the mattress and, lifting his body up, he tugged his feet and sat on them. “Y/n, I love you, don't you want to get married too?” His frightened expression made you breathe out a tiny laugh, looking right into his teared up puppy eyes.

“Well, what about this?” You forced yourself to roll out of the bed, despite your mind, usually, was enjoying the tenth dream at that time of the night. You stood up and went to another room, barely moving your feet. Boromir was looking at your shaded figure, that almost got losted in the darkness of the other room. He was swinging on the soft mattress, craning his neck to be able to see you. A few minutes left and you came back, holding something in your arms. You spoke to Boromir and your voice was deadly serious and at the same time quiet as night itself. “What do you think about this?”

You lended said something to Boromir and he gusped when saw what was that. “Do you have a child, Y/N?!” He shouted out the first words and then turned the volume down. “How did you hide, no, where were you hiding him all this time?”

You slapped your face with your flat hands, flowing down the wall. You had no strength for this man, though, you also had no anger for this man. “Boromi-i-ir,” you moaned, taking a seat next to him and patting the child's head gently, preventing his awakening. “It was hard to keep it a secret from you, cause you was closely, no,” he turned his head on your voice, face still twitching in shock. “directly involved in this child’s making.” You took the child out from his hands and, swinging him in your hands, walked to his room to lay his back in his cradle.

You found Boromir sitting motionless on the bed, eyeing the room restlessly. You sat next to him, wrapping a hand around his torso and pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Does that mean that I have a bastard son?” Tears were dripping down his face and you growled into his shoulder, making a strong bite, leaving the pattern of your teeth on his skin. He jerked his hand and looked at you with a rather expression of disbelief.

“For the sake of the Kings of Old, Boromir, we are married, you drunk fool!” You rose on your feet and pushed your husband to the lying position. “Get some sleep, and you better be in your lovely sane tomorrow morning, or you definitely would need to steal your brother’s wife.”

That was a bit harsh of you, but you went to the other room and made a bed on the sofa there, near the baby’s cradle.

You woke up in the morning to see the bouquets of your favorite flowers in every possible vase in your chambers, there was a breakfast on your table and your son’s cradle was empty, as well as your husband's ‘cradle’, for his was not better than a child last night. Washed your face you went to the guessed room, where the table with the plates was standing, as Boromir and your son returned from the walk.

Ah, the look on his face… Lowered eyebrows and eyes that were quickly scanning the room and almost rolled to the inner side when stumbled on your figure - then his cheeks became reddish and he finally spoke with the softest raspy voice. “Am I that bad when drunk?” You nodded. “Are you angree at me?”

“Never was.” You said and the honeyed voice of yours melted his heart. “Can you remember me being angry at you, even at your most foolish?” You embrace him, locking the child between Boromir’s and your own chests, then he huffed.

“When I dropped this cub on the bed accidantely…” He chuckled but in the deep of his throat you heared a fear. “You almost killed me with your bare hands then.”

You looked him dead in the eyes, kissing your son’s head. “I will rip you apart if you do this again, Boromir of Gondor.” He cocked his head back and looked at you jsut above his own nose.

“He was inches from the mattress, he didn't even notice!” He wined and pouted.

“I warned you.”

“Well, I won’t do this again,” Boromir tightened the embrace and craned his head over the baby’s nape to knock a kiss on your temple. “I love you, Y/n, and, er, sorry for last night.”

AN That's it, I hope you liked it 💗 if so, reblog and comment would make my day brighter! Love ya'll ✨

Forever tag: @bonjour-rainycity

tag list: @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse

[bl597]

requested by my dear @whack-ed ♡: "não resisti e vou escrever isso em pt, pq sim kkkkkk. okay, então primeiro parabéns pelos 300 seguidores cara, isso é bom demais! pra comemorar junto eu queria um 🍒. Sonserina, bissexual, ela/dela, teatro/escrever/desenhar/costurar, cabelos e olhos castanhos, o cabelo liso e curtinho. cara, pra simplificar, eu me descreveria com essa musica "Good Girls - Elle King". é isso meu amor, e de novo, parabéns! vc merece <3"

I accidentally posted the request and I had to delete it jssjksskjdjd anywayssss obrigada meu amor!!! 🥺❤ eu ia responder em português, mas me sinto meio estranha já que tô meio acostumada em escrever em inglês sksjdjdkdjk espero que tu goste!! 💕

warnings: just fluff, really. it took me a very long time to finish it because i procrastinate quite a lot hahaha i need to stop doing it, i really suck at writing headcanons maybe i'll start writing blurbs instead of them hmmmm. a few curse words i guess :p, english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes! requests are closed for now!!

my masterlist ♡

I ship you with... Fred Weasley!

okay so first of all

you + Freddie = chaos

you two started dating on your fifth year

and you and the twins always pulled prank together

Filch hates you three so much skshdkdjd

you always used the Marauders map - before the twins gave it to Harry - to sneak around in the middle of the night

and if you ever happened to be caught, you always found a way to get out of this

because come on

you probably study theater and you're an amazing actress

so you could always come up with an excuse for why you were outside bed at past cutfew

not that the teachers actually believed it tho

and Fred just thought you were bloody brilliant because?????

how could he not!!

and he always smiles like a fool when you try to convince the teachers that you did nothing wrong

even though the strong smell of dungbomb literally reports you guys

oK

he didn't really like you at first

because you're a Slytherin and he thought you were an asshole just like most of your housemates

but turns out that you're different from them

you're so unique and so you

with all your sarcasm and cheeky replies

he couldn't help but fall hard for you

so one day he just randomly asked you out

and you said yes bc you thought he was cool too

and also bc hes fred fucking weasley i mean?????

so after a little while you started dating

and oh boy is this man the best boyfriend ever

he always flirts with you, no matter how long you've been dating

because he loves the tiny little blush that spreads over your cheeks

Fred loves to cuddle you and to run his hands through your soft short hair

and omg your eyes

he swears he could spend the rest of his life just admiring them

because they're so beautiful!!!

he will always support you

either it's with your passion for theater

or you art

or anything you do

he loves it all and always lets you know how much he appreciates them and you

he loves it when you read the things you wrote

because you write things so beautifully and so wonderfully

and the proud small smile you give him when he asks you to read to him is enough to improve his whole week

he also loves your drawings and how you put your heart in every single line of it

you once drew him and he almost cried a bit

you always cheer for him during quidditch matches

even though your housemates give you disappointed looks

you couldn't care less

you just wanted to support ya boy

ok so

about his family

they were extremely happy for Fred when he told them he was dating

but they were a bit apprehensive when they found out you were a little snake

because of the house bad fame and everything

but he was fast to calm them down and say you weren't like the other Slytherins

and didn't give a shit about blood statuses or some shit like that

so they invited you to spend a week at the Burrow

to get to know you better and to make sure you were a good person for Freddie

and in the very first minutes you spent there

you managed to steal everyone's heart

you got along pretty well with everyone

and they simply loved you almost as much as Freddie boy does

you and Molly would sit down and talk for hours while she teaches you how to knit

she gets even more excited when she learns you know how to sew

anyways

in less than one week, you unofficially became a Weasley :D

Fred loves you and he was extremely happy to see his family loved you too

his family is everything to him and their approval of your relationship was very important to him

~

I ship you with... Sirius Black!

ben barnes is such a cutie

well lets begin shall we

Sirius is head over heels for you

no one can deny it

you'd be just breathing and he'd be like

ohmygod shes so cute hskshsdjdjksajjdjdks

and you two are like the cutest badass couple ever

but at first it was very completely different

simply because you're a snake and he's a lion

and he hated the Slytherin house because of his family

he hated every single person in Slytherin, and he wasn't really ashamed of that

poor baby he deserved a better family than those assholes :(

one day he happened to accidentally bump into you

and he was going to help you

bc his family was shitty but they taught him some manners

but he abruptly stopped when he saw the green in your robes

and he said something rude and left

but you definitely did not stay quiet

so you just argued with him

and told him to go to hell ooops

and he was like :O

and then you left with your classmates bc you were going to be late to Divination

and Sirius was fucking intrigued

i mean???????

and then when they arrived at the Gryffindor common room

Remus scolded him for being rude to people, specifically Slytherins

and told him to apologize for his childishness

and Sirius was like "hahahaha nice joke Moony"

but he realised Remus was being serious

and he was kinda confused bc??? why is he defending the enemies???

anyways

he somehow convinced Sirius to talk to you

which he did, but whining like a child when their parents don't give them a new toy

you thought he was going to say some shit like that day

so you were with your wand in hand, ready to jinx the shit out of him if he did something

that gladly didn't happen

you were extremely confused and you thought it was a prank

but you saw it wasn't

so you accepted his forced apologies

and after some kinda weird moments of you talking

you decided to be not enemies

you weren't friends yet but weren't enemies either

well I'll start the part where you two are dating or else it'll get longer than it already is lol

when you started dating

your housemates were like

what the fuck??

and you just kinda ignored them bc you were actually happy with Sirius

and let me teLl you

Sirius is a smoll bean even though he has this badboy fame

he loves to see the things you wrote or drew

he absolutely loves them and always tells you how talented you are and how proud of you he is

I don't even have to say that you two pull pranks together

you just like to mess around together

bc you like each other's company

and being chaotic is a bonus

i mean, who wouldn't want to pull pranks with Sirius and mess around with him??

when you came out as bi to him he was very supportive and was ready to beat the shit out of anyone who dared to say shit about you or your sexuality

Sirius says lgbtq+ rights and fuck jk rowling

anyways

he was so excited when he transformed into Padfoot in front of you for the first time

and he was so proud of himself when you smiled widely and showered him with questions about it

yay

you always stayed with him after the full moon and helped madam Pomfrey

bc you wanted to see your baby alright :(

Sirius is really into pda and 100% would randomly kiss you in public

just because he can lol

you love each other too much

you're the best couple ever change my mind

[codeinecupsss]

Red Room chp 1 - British stranger- It was a dark and stormy night, in Vegas. The wind howled loudly and the lights flickered in the streets as Heather walked. In her right hand, she held heels and her purse. Work was time consuming and she only made eight hundred dollars in nine hours, due to her bosses actions. Having nice clothing was for the wealthy and Heather was nowhere near wealthy. She barely paid her rent and fed herself. Heather's outfit, consisted of red dresses, she'd buy from goodwill and it wasn't exactly revealing enough for her job. The flash of the lighting, the roar of the thunder, and the pelting shower of torrential rain, scared Heather making her hug the coat that covered her small body, tightly.   "Crap" She says, increasing her speed towards the direction of her apartment. Heather hated it when it rained, by reason of her hair being curly. She tested pulling her coat over her head, yet failed to keep herself warm. Her teeth chattered and her hair soaked of rain, the warmth now leaving her body. She continued to walk in the freezing cold, clouds of smoke leaving her mouth as she breathed.  Taking a sharp turn, she then arrived at her destination. Exhaling, she unlocked her rusty door, pushing it open afterwards. " Crispy!" she squealed as her fury cat came running to her in excitement. She bent down and pet her, enjoying the warmth of her fury pet. Heather's body warmth came back and she now removed her jacket, hanging it up on the rack as well.  " Look what i brought!?" she then said, pouring the treats in Crispy's bowl. Crispy happily ate her treats as Heather walked to her bedroom.   Her bedroom was very small and tight but she she knew she couldn't do anything about it, sadly. Removing the red dress off her body she hummed a melody, sauntering to the bathroom. Water poured down the drain once she turned on the shower and a small grin formed on her lips.   The shower wasn't very long, only having hot water for ten minutes. She stepped out onto her fluffy rug, and wrapped a towel around her body. Curly hair fell to her sides, completely soaked in water. Heather never thought of herself as ugly. She may have been a blonde with blue eyes but she also had features of her father.  Freckles splattered her nose and her cheeks were lightly tinted pink. She had a gap in between her front teeth, which she hated. Her lips were very pink, very plump.  Water dripped down to her arms and back as she studied her reflection in the mirror.  Reaching underneath the sink, she pulled her blow dryer out and connected it to the outlet. air, forces her hair back and she continued, through until it was completely dry - then ties it into a bun. A strand of her curliness fell down to her nose, and she huffed, tucking it behind her ear. Heather hasn't decided whether she wanted to the bar till morning, or continue her book. If it were the bar, she could wear the black dress, she bought recently. Red was the strip - leaving Heather the reality.   She grabbed the warm fabric and tossed it onto her bed, along with a matching underwear set. A night to herself was all she needed. Lifting one leg up, she slipped on her pink lace underwear and tied her matching bra on as well. The storm had finally stopped by the time she got dressed. Quickly, she grabbed her cardigan that hung beside her closet and put it on. Her curls left the messy bun and fell to her shoulders. No, Heather wasn't planning on walking to the bar silly. Why would she ruin her brand new boots in the rain? Having Uber was useful when she had the amount of money. The driver tried to charge her seventy five dollars, from the strip to home. Lucky for Heather, the bar wasn't far. She paid the driver online and waited patiently for his/hers arrival.  Not only does the bartender love Heather, but he also gives her free drinks all night. Hopefully, he'll be working today or she'd be screwed.  A loud ring, echoed in the silence and she looked down at her phone. The driver had arrived and was parked by her mailbox. Her boots clicked on the floor as Heather ran down her hallway and down the stairs.  Once Heather got comfortable in her seat, the driver drove off down the street, passing a few house along the way.  Jazz music filled her ears as the man continued to drive around the beautiful city. Now that the storm stopped, people began to come out and party like it wasn't 4 AM. Heather secretly admired that about Vegas. Even though it was late, nobody ever stopped partying. life was great for them and life for her, was garbage. The man finally parked behind the building and she grabbed her purse beside her, exiting the car after. Hugging the cardigan tighter around her body, she slowly walked passed a few intoxicated people and inside the building. Every seat in the bar was taken except the ones in the front. Heather normally didn't sit in front, due to the creepy men that flirted with her all night.  " The usual." she then spoke, slamming the one hundred dollar bill on the table. " well, hello to you too. Miss, i'm on a mission."  The bartender mocked her as he poured her favorite drink. sliding the glass her way, she smiled, finally looking up from her lap.  " It's busy tonight, don't you think?" " very." He replies. She shrugged, picking up her glass.  " Keep these coming till i'm too drunk to ask for more." She then says, drowning the shot quickly. The vodka burned her throat and she winced at the feeling. Heather's nights at the bar, consisted, getting wasted and possibly taking someone home. The men she fucked, never knew she was a stripper and she wanted to keep it that way. After her second shot, it began to taste like sprite and she couldn't be happier.  " So.  she pushed her empty glass towards him and smiled. " Is there anyone good looking tonight?"  Raising an eyebrow, he poured her another glass.  " Just him, but he's way too old for you darling." She followed his eyes and turned around in her seat.  A man, probably in his early thirties, sat alone in the back of the bar, holding a half empty bottle of whisky.  Black ink is the first thing she saw.  He looked scary to be honest, but all the scary ones were good in bed.  His brown hair, combed nicely to the side giving her a good view of his green eyes. His face was perfectly sculpted - almost as if he was a statue.  He may have been drunk but he looked absolutely stunning.  She bit down on her lip, fascinated by the man. Turning back around in her seat, she faced the bartender. " Do you have anymore whisky bottles?"  Again, he raised an eyebrow and she huffed in annoyance.  " I'll pay you back, i promise. Please?" She batted her eye lashes, begging him to buy her the bottle.  He sighed, reaching underneath, grabbing a bottle of whisky.  " Don't let anyone see you, I can get fired."  She giggled loudly, jumping out of her seat.  " Wish me luck?"  Rolling his eyes, he whispered a " Good luck." And she smiled in return. " Ooops, sorry!" She squealed, apologizing to the two people she bumped into. They yelled a " Watch where you're going." And she blushed in embarrassment. Keeping her head low, she continued to walk through the crowd, saying a few sorry's on the way. Finally, she was face the face with the attractive man.  " Care for another drink?" She then said, smiling widely.   The man looked up from his hands and raised an eyebrow.  " Excuse me?"  From the way he spoke, he definitely was British and it only made Heather want him more.  She smiled again, placing the bottle in front of him.  " I said.  She then took a seat beside him and poured herself a drink.  " Do you want another drink?" He stared at the bottle, then at her.  " How old are you?"  That was the question, she often got from the men she flirted with and it was pestering to hear.  She bit her lip, stopping herself from giving the man a snarky response, then poured another glass.  " I'm old enough too talk to you."  Sliding the glass towards him, she grinned.   A small smile formed on his lips making her grin widen in satisfaction.  " Oh come on, I'm not that bad."  She brought her glass up, convincing him to take the shot with her.  He held a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow; his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked ireful and thwarted. The frown, the roughness of him set her at ease. " I'm having a bad night. Do it for me?"  He looked at her when she said this and stopped, ran his eye over her dress and in two minutes, rose from the couch.  " I don't speak to children."  Her mouth fell open, surprised by his rude comment.  All she wanted was a night with him but obviously he wasn't interested.  "Fine.   She snatched the bottle from the table and pushed passed him.  " Ass hole."   When she reached the bar, she slammed the bottle down and huffed, taking a seat.   " He thinks i'm a child." She told the bartender, taking a chug from the bottle. He laughed in response, earning a eye roll from Heather. " Not funny."  He shut his mouth at that and pushed a tall margarita glass in front of her.  " I made you an apology drink?"  She smiled, putting the straw in her mouth. Of course, the drink tasted amazing! It was made by the best bartender here. She continued to drink till the glass was empty.   Her body felt more relaxed once all the alcohol kicked in and she smiled at the feeling. " You got a smoke?" She then asked. He nods, digging in his back pocket. Pulling out a Newport, he passed it to her, along with a lighter.   Thanking him, she grabbed her bottle and stumbled out of the bar. She pushed passed a couple of people and finally made it to the patio. Thousands of people, surrounded the patio and she found it difficult to find a seat to smoke.   Her eyes scanned the entire area till they fell on the attractive man from earlier.  He sat alone, just like before but that didn't stop her from walking towards him.   Slamming the bottle down, she took a seat in front of him. He looked up, quite surprised at her presence.  " I thought I told you, I don't speak to children."  He says staring at her hard.   " It's a free country.. If you don't like it, go back to London."  She response, roughly sticking the cigarette between her lips.  She lights it and inhales deeply afterwards.   Blowing out the smoke, she faced him.  His eyes bored into her and she couldn't help but feel, threatened.  Clearing her throat, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Setting the cigarette down, she picked up her bottle, taking a chug from it after.   " You know, it's not nice to stare." She looks up and faces him. His stare hardened and a small giggle escaped her.   " Sorry, i'm a bit drunk at the moment."  Sticking the cigarette back in her mouth, she took a huge drag.  " I'm Heather by the way."  She held her hand out for him to shake, but he didn't move. Only stared.  She was beginning to get frustrated by his staring but she refused to let him affect her.  This was part of her job at the gentlemen's club so she held the same expression and stuck to it.  Finally, she finished her cigarette and flicked it to the dirt. " Just trying to make conversation."  She was half way done with the bottle and she felt so drunk, she could sleep.  Her body was heavy and her eyes struggled to stay open.  He reached over, grabbing the bottle from her hand.  " You've had enough love."   " H-he speaks!"  She slurred, holding onto the table tightly.  She knew she'd fall if she let go, so she kept herself seated.  A small hiccup escaped her but she laughed it off after.  Looking at the table, she noticed a pack of cigarettes  where his arm rested.   " May I?" She reached over and grabbed a cigarette from the box, quickly lighting it after.  No matter how cute he was, Heather never said anything, not unless he approached her first.   She's not sure where she got the idea that it was a man's job to do the approaching. Her mother, a staunch feminist in practice if not in name, would tell her. " if you see something, say something."  But the messages she got from everywhere else is that only a desperate women made the first move. She blew out the smoke, staring into his green eyes as he stared into her blue ones. How could someone be so damn hot? She thought.  He watched her carefully and she found it strangely hot. She imagined him push her onto her knees to suck his dick midway, and then command her to get on her knees face down, ass up, and then fuck her senselessly. Heather's heat began to get wet and she bit her lip at the thought.  She then heard the man suck in his breath.  " Heather, fuck."  His green eyes darken and she gasp at the scene.  He stared at her like she was a meal on a plate! Not only was he hungrily gazing, he held his hands tightly on the table. She was afraid he's snap but she was to drunk to do anything.  " Are you upset with me?" She then questioned. Her face held complete innocents but she wasn't innocent at all. She was a dirty dancer, when on the pole. Another hiccup escaped her and that's when the man got up. " Your drunk, let me take you home."   His green eyes came back and she huffed in frustration.  " What if i don't wanna?"  He laughed at that then stopped, reaching his hand out for her to take.   " Heather, it's late."  She loved the way he said her name and each time he'd say it, she got wetter.  After biting her lip once more, she gently placed her hand in his.  When he pulled her up, she slammed into his chest, accidentally dropping her cigarette.  His hands held her waist tightly as she giggled to herself. " I'm very drunk, sorry."  Again, she bit her lip and it drove him wild.  " Please, stop doing that."  She looked up and suddenly, dizziness took over her body.  " I think i'm going to faint."  She whispered - but before he could respond, everything went black.

Should i continue??? lmk 

[eirist]

Hi! How are you? Hope you are really good! I really love your fics (but the first time writing to you :3). So, I have this prompt: Late night, a drunk Zoro and a drunk Nami meet unexpectedly in the kitchen, looking for some water. Thanks so much! Looking foward for more fics!

LITTLE BITS AND PIECES OF HEAVEN

DRINK YOU SOBER

One-shot #: 17

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei. Title is from Bitter:Sweet’s steamy song.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: For @marafuego. Hope you enjoy this!

And… I apologize for the delay as I haven’t been able to get around the prompt requests for some time. Truth is I kinda got stuck. But reassured I will deliver the other ZoNa requests as soon as I can.

Summary: “I’m drunk… and you’re drunk as well right? Can we just leave it at that?”

“Well, hello stranger.”

Zoro flinched at voice and immediately drew back from the Sunny’s fridge, knocking his head on the overhead tray in the process.

Frowning, he swiveled around and found Nami leaning against the far end of the counter separating the kitchen and dining area, with a cheeky smile on her face.

“What do we have here?” She asked in a singsong tone. When he didn’t answer, she propped her chin on the palm of her hand. “Looks like someone’s stealing from the supposedly locked fridge.”

Zoro cursed under his breath while rubbing his head. “Shut it witch. I’m just getting some water.” He stuck his hand back inside the fridge and grabbed the pitcher.

“I’m surprised you know the code.”

He smirked as he slammed door shut and snatched a glass from the counter rack. “Ero-cook’s THAT predictable.”

Nami’s lips formed a perfect ‘o’ at his remark.

“Why are you still awake?” He asked as he poured himself a drink.

“Why are you lurking in the dark?”

They both asked at the same time. Nami grinned while Zoro cocked an eyebrow at her.

In the silvery moonlight streaming in from the galley’s portholes; they stared at each other, both waiting for an answer.

When neither one replied, Nami then straightened up and was about to make her way towards him when she blindly bumped the corner of the counter.

“Ouch!” She whined. “Why the hell didn’t you switch the lights on Zoro?” She made a clicking sound with her tongue to show her disapproval at his decision to skulk inside the galley in the dark.

“Don’t need it,” the swordsman grunted.

“Well some of us do!”

“Not my fault you can’t find your way in the dark cat burglar.” She didn’t miss the way he emphasized her epithet.

Nami made a face as he downed his water in one gulp.

“Slow down with the water idiot! You’re not the only one who wants to drink some!”

"Not so loud Nami!” Zoro hissed. “You’ll wake the others up!”

“Ooops. Sorry,” she mock-whispered. Then she giggled. “I’ll shush.” She placed her forefinger on her lips.

The tall swordsman raised both of his eyebrows at her reaction. He scrutinized her curiously, wondering why she was still up and about… and boisterous.

He silently observed her as she approached him. And he noticed that she seemed unsteady; her stride was careful but he can see that she was tilting a bit and her hand never left the kitchen counter.

“Are you drunk Nami?”

She stiffened at his question. “Excuse me?”

“You’re staggering,” Zoro pointed out.

“No I’m not!” She vehemently denied. “Just had a feeew drinks is all…” She stuck her tongue out at him. “You of all people should know that I don’t get drunk that easily.”

He looked unconvinced. Few for Nami usually means almost ALL the liquor stock available. “Uh-huh. Is that why you’re using the counter for support?”

Nami puffed her cheeks. She was now near enough for him to note that her face was flushed and her eyes, a bit unfocused.

Not drunk my ass alright. He thought with a scoff.

“I am not drunk Zoro!” She poutily declared when she heard the unbelieving sound he made. She let go of the counter to place her hands on her hips—the way she usually does when she was about to chastise him. However, the sudden defiant movement made her wobble a bit and Zoro automatically reached for her arm to steady her.

“Not drunk my ass,” he voiced his earlier thought.

“You’re the one to talk.” Nami grumbled while holding on to him. She drew closer and sniffed. “You reek of alcohol swordsman.” She scrunched up her nose in disgust.

Her insult didn’t even faze him. With a shit-eating grin he said, “I should say the same to you.”

Her brown eyes widened in horror. She looked offended and mortified at the same time. True, he can smell the liquor on her, enough for him to deduce that she probably drank more than just a feeew (to quote her) drinks as she was claiming.

Nami smacked him on the arm lightly. “Not as much as you do baka! Did you take a bath with sake or something?”

Zoro just chuckled at her attempt to drag him in a midnight banter. As much as he wants to engage in their usual verbal play, his head is already buzzing from all the liquor he drank.

He was already following her down the road to inebriation and ready to pass out anywhere.

He was done with this night.

Nami must’ve sensed it given the way a sly smile appeared on her lips.

Grabbing his shoulders for support, she tiptoed so they were almost face to face. “You are drunk too, aren’t you Zoro?” The mapmaker whispered in his ear.

"And what if I am?” Zoro drawled.

She threw her head back and laughed. “So you do get drunk!”

“You wish witch.” She laughed again and his arm instantly went around her, just in case she topple-over from dipping her head back too much. He can just imagine the havoc it will cause when she falls and crack her skull on the floor of the Sunny’s kitchen while with him.

Ero-cook will definitely murder him before dying from a broken heart if that happens.

All of a sudden, Nami grabbed his face.

“Oi!”

The orange-haired girl huffed. “Don’t deny it Zoro. You look like you’re about to fall asleep on your feet.”

“Hnnn…”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face, as her thumbs gently rubbed at the corners of his eyes. “You know, your eyes slant more when you had too much alcohol,” Nami told him in a soft voice. Then a frown marred her features, as she traced the scar running over his left eye. “Or in this matter… your eye…”

His breath got stuck in his throat. He had no idea that she actually paid any attention to him. He can feel his face heating up and it’s definitely not because of the booze in his system.

She proceeded to cup his face in the palm of her hands. “And you would smile more. Probably because all that liquor you chugged down help loosen your stoic smiling muscles.” Nami daringly use her thumbs to push the corners of his lips up in a lame attempt to make him smile.

Zoro just stood there staring at her, completely perplexed.

Then Nami clapped her hands with his face between them.

“DAMN IT NAMI!”

“Hahaha! Oooops you still felt that!”

“Temee…” With a growl he grabbed her wrists, in case she decides to repeat the action again. “Of course I did!”

“Oh alright,” she said in a condescending tone. “I guess you’re not really drunk… just supeeer close to it.” She mimicked Franky’s voice while patting his arm with her free hand to appease him.

“Why would you even think that?!” Zoro snarled at her.

“Why else would you be here in the middle of night, in your sleeping trousers and raiding the fridge?”

“I just wanted some water!” Zoro explained through gritted teeth. The one damn bad thing about this feisty cat thief is that she can really be insufferable… sober or not. “I’m gonna go nap,” he mumbled before their conversation turn into a squabble. He doesn’t have the energy for it to be honest.

“Hah!” Nami snickered. “There it is. Your own version of ‘I’m drunk’.”

His good eye narrowed.

“Your eye is slanting so much more now Zoro!” She chirped. “Getting drunker by the minute?”

“Shut it witch or I’ll pour all the remaining ice cold water on you to sober you up.” He threatened.

He was rewarded with a snigger and she took a step back. It was then that he realized that he was still holding her.

Zoro let her go and made a grab for the pitcher to refill his glass. He ignored the fluttering feeling in his chest from their exchange earlier.

“Hey. Why didn’t you join me tonight Zoro?” Nami nudged him with her shoulder to get his attention.

It was his turn to be startled by her question.

“We could’ve have drunk the whole bar under the table you know,” she continued on. “And I could’ve taken home more berries from the bets if you were there.”

Of course she would be interested in money more than anything, as usual.

“I know you’d just find a way to get your hands on my winnings if I drank with you,” he muttered glumly.

“Damn right of course!” Nami beamed at him. “Though you should be thankful it’s just your money I want to get my hands on.” She said rather suggestively, poking him on the chest.

Zoro nearly choked at her statement. What the hell did she mean by that?!

He coughed to clear his throat. Turning away from her, he seized his glass and drank the water in one gulp. He decided to just ignore what she had just dropped on him. “Good thing I decided to drink in another bar then.”

She feigned a sad look at that. “Ouch. I’m hurt Zoro. You’d choose isolation over a friend?”

“Nice of you to think I drank alone.”

Silence suddenly enveloped them.

Nami quirked an eyebrow at him. “The lone wolf finally learned how to make friends?”

Zoro snorted.

“Oh,” she looked a bit astounded. “You mean you… you like… went somewhere where you can…”

They blinked at each other for almost a full minute before her implication dawned into Zoro. “What?! No!” He looked just as stunned as her. “Of course I wouldn’t… it’s not…” he stuttered, unable to give her an explanation.

Well that suddenly sobered both of them up a bit.

The former pirate hunter felt all his blood rushed up to his face. This is embarrassing.

He rubbed a hand on his face before clearing his throat. “Usopp and Luffy joined me for a while. Then Franky, before he headed back here. Then Brook. That’s what I meant by I’m not alone.”

It’s not like he owed her an explanation but he didn’t want her to think that he actually hang-out in bars to pick women up…

… Or that he deliberately goes in brothels to get laid.

Nami worried her lower lip looking deep in thought. “Oh okay…”

Damn it!

“For a moment I thought you’d rather spend time with a stranger than with me.”

A disgruntled sound escaped his lips and he swiftly averted his eyes to avoid her gaze. How do one respond to that? What should he say?

Should he tell her that he actually wanted to spend time with her? That he wanted to accompany her at the bar where she went earlier and spend all night sitting beside her as they drink the stocks empty and win every single drinking competition thrown their way?

But that he didn’t? Instead he forced himself to look for another pub or tavern far away from her.

Because recently, he realized that being with Nami… was a bit disconcerting.

She stirs up certain emotions inside him that he was not too familiar with.

And it was throwing him off. Because he had no idea how to deal with it or how to handle it.

He shook his head to brush all the thoughts in his mind away.

This should be dealt with some other time. When they are both sober and in their right minds.

Tonight was not the night for this.

Nami suddenly pressed into him.

“Hey!” He glanced down, his lone eye meeting her half-lidded ones.

Great. The alcohol already took its toll on her. Nami looks like she’s about to pass out.

“I could use some water too Zoro,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his chest.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt the familiar, warm sensation crept slowly all over his body. She was too close for comfort now.

“Go get your own glass then.” He grumbled.

He felt her pout as her lips touched his bare skin. “We can just share.” She suggested in a tone that he knows so well. He recognized it as the one she constantly uses whenever she wants a favor from the cook or any other man she wants to twist around those devious fingers of hers.

He scowled. Like that would work on him…

Then he felt his resolve crumble a bit when she shifted closer and the scent of mikans mixed with alcohol assaulted his nose.

It was enticing. It makes him want to try and see if she tasted like she smelled.

His thoughts were cut off when she suddenly grabbed the glass in his hand.

Ever alert, Zoro held on to it.

She lifted her head up and their eyes locked. Nami tugged at the glass and he tugged back. She was no match against his grip of course. But he had to give her points for bravely trying.

Then she did the unthinkable. She wrapped an arm around his waist and pushed him back so she was now essentially pinning him between her body and the kitchen counter.

“Nami!” He rumbled the moment he felt her bountiful chest against him.

Nami smiled cheekily at him and she quickly snatched the glass out of his hand. “See it’s not bad to share Zoro.” She tossed back the glass’s content before placing it back down the counter.

He answered her with a glare. She has yet to get herself off him.

Nami was gazing up at his face, smirking at her victory. Then he watched as it slowly disappeared as she blinked up at him. Nami looked like she was pondering about something.

“Zoro,” she called his name in a way that it set off every single nerve in his body, sending it into overdrive.

“What now?” He asked in a raspy tone.

She was silent for a few seconds. But there was a gleam in her eye that he wasn’t sure he liked. “I’m drunk… and you’re drunk as well right? Can we just leave it at that?”

His eyebrows drew close to each other. “What are you even say—”

And she cut him off by capturing his lips with hers.

Just a fun suggestion. Try listening to Bitter Sweet’s Drink You Sober. The music is perfect for a ZoNa sexy time. It will help you imagine what possibly took place after the last scene. Unless I’m able to write it as a bonus one-shot. Hahaha!

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Charles Smith x F!reader story

Summary: The story picks up just after Jack has been rescued from Angelo Bronte & the gang are celebrating the happy occasion - though not everybody in camp is in a mood to celebrate

Tags: Possible spoilers for the end of chapter 3 / part of chapter 4. A little bit angsty, a little bit nsfw, but then some fluff to lighten the mood

Notes: This is the first story I ever wrote for the RDR2 fandom and looking back on it...it's certainly is far from perfect, but I'm still proud I took the leap to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy

~* Tumblr Masterlist *~

Sweet Dreams

The seats around the campfire were starting to fill up fast, so you sat on the ground next to Javier, as he started to play his guitar.

Shit, poor Sean – shot dead in the middle of Rhodes. You weren’t there of course, but you’d walked past Arthur’s tent one day and saw he’d left his journal open on his bed. Curiosity had gotten the better of you so you wandered over, but as you approached, you wish you hadn’t – the sketch Arthur had drew showing the young Irish lad’s split skull had haunted you for the last couple of weeks every time you closed your eyes.

You reopened them only when you felt somebody nudge you with their leg and you looked up to see Arthur standing next you with a drink in each hand

You looked around at all the smiling faces around the campfire and try to think when was last time everybody was so happy & carefree; it decided it probably wasn’t since Sean was rescued from bounty hunters a couple of months ago.

“You okay y/n? “ he asked handing one of the bottles to you

“Yeah, I think so” you answered before taking a long sip “suppose I’m just tired”

“Already the party’s just begun?!” he laughed as he walked off to check on everybody else.

The truth was a bit more complicated than that, and you were finding it had to paint on a smile & pretend everything was okay, especially when you were sat in front of the scene that hurt you the most.

You watched as Abigail cuddles Jack, as if she’s never going to let him go again, before you turn your attention towards Hosea & John. Both wearing wide grins as the older man gives John a pat on the back.

You had known eventually it would come to this; when you have somebody like Hosea, a master of charm, gently persuading John to do the right thing by his son, it would be only a matter of time before John listened to his head instead of heart. Yet you always had held out hope that one day the two of you could still run off into the sunset, perhaps far away so there’d be no going back this time.

But now that last fleeting moment of hope had suddenly vanished as saw John follow Abigail & Jack over to Pearson’s wagon and actually make pleasant conversation with her.

“Ay, Ay, Ay , ay canta y no llores, ay, ay ay ay” You try to join in alongside everybody else, but you’re too distracted. It was a small moment, over in a split second but you saw it, Abigail had turned to John & touched him lightly on the arm and for the first time since you returned to camp you noticed he didn’t flinch or scowl at her – in fact he placed a gentle hand on her back as she rose with the boy. You closed your eyes again and this was now the image plastered in your mind. The Marstons looking like a proper happy family

“Ay, Ay, Ay , ay canta y no llores, ay, ay ay ay”  the words rang in your ears. You spoke no Spanish, but when you heard Javier sing it for the very first time, you felt moved by the song and has asked him what did mean

“Sing and don’t cry” he had explained, but right now you felt like the opposite so you downed the rest of your bottle and stood up & excused yourself from the group

From here you could still listen to the events of camp – right now you could just about hear Dutch speaking to Arthur about Tahiti - but you were far enough away to left alone in your thoughts, not that you really wanted to go down that dark path.

You’d been sitting there for no more than five minutes, sobbing gently and taking swigs of alcohol, when you heard footsteps approach and then stop right behind you. You wiped your cheeks & turned your head around to see a shadowy figure topped with a white hat looking at down at you

Walking into your room on the ground floor of the house, you located your satchel and rummaged about before finding exactly what you were looking for – a bottle of gin. Taking the stopper out with your teeth, you opened the back door and sat down on the quiet patch of grass.

“Can I help you Mr. Bell?” you asked

He had piqued your interest

“How so?” you replied arching an eyebrow

“I was thinking more along the lines of I could help you Miss (l/n)?” he drawled

“Tsk, I’d rather go swimming with the alligators if it’s all the same to you” you replied before turning back round to finish off your drink

“I doubt the alligators would go anywhere near you stuck-up frigid bitch” he huffed marching back towards his tent.

“A pretty girl such as yourself, upset and by sitting on her lonesome – I thought maybe I could introduce you to a friend of mine. A real good friend who’d know how to make you moan in ecstasy rather than misery” he responded pointing to his crotch

After emptying the contents of the bottle down your throat, you were starting to feel a bit light headed, so you closed eyes once more and leaned back onto the ground. You could hear the voices from the other side of camp getting louder by the minute; a few rowdy songs being sung by Karen, Uncle & Grimshaw accompanied by Javier, Arthur drunkenly greeting everybody in his path and laughing at himself whenever he shouted Lenny’s name and Molly having a go at Dutch yet again.

Frustrated that you couldn’t just fall into a drunken stupor, you clenched your fists & pounded them into the ground – though it took you a few seconds to work out why the ground felt soft & squishy & had made an “Ow” sound

“Sorry, Charles” you slurred

You opened one eye and saw Charles crouched over rubbing his foot

“It’s okay Miss (l/n). It’s my fault that I didn’t see you down there”

“Are you okay?” he leant over and helped you sit up, only for you to wobble again “Here lean on me” he told you as he sat next to you

You did as you were told and took it upon yourself to place your head onto his chest.

“Stop with the Miss (l/n) nonsense” you told him as you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, only to fall back down into a fit of giggles “Ooops”

You could tell by looking at Charles that he had a strong frame, but you were  stunned to feel how muscular his chest was and found yourself wondering what exactly was he hiding under his shirt

“Erm… you know that you just said that out loud” he blushed

“Did I? I don’t think I did”

He laughed at your drunken logic and thought it would be easier to just agree with you for the time being

“Anyway Miss (l/n) …” you cut him off

“(y/n), My name is (y/n)” you lifted yourself up to face him “You’ve known me for several months now Charles, you don’t need to be so formal with me all the time”

You smiled at him “That’s better” You found yourself focusing on his scars

“Sorry, *(y/n)*” He empathised saying your name as if it was something foreign to him “

“How did you get them?” you absent-mindedly ask as you traced them with your fingers. You feel him pull away slightly.

“Charles Smith” you sigh “a man who says so much by saying so little” He looks at you with bemusement and you stare back in his deep dark eyes, “but then again why do you need to say anything when you can let actions speak louder than words” 

“That’s a story for another day” he teased

You found you gaze was now focused on his mouth & you started moving slowly towards him. You gently placed your lips on his and was pleasantly surprised to feel him kiss you back. Without breaking you straddled his lap and draped your hands around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist whilst you both continue to explore each others mouths.

“Not like this” he shook his head “I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re drunk”

You decided this wasn’t enough, so you moved your hands over his chest, working your way down slowly taking in the contours of his body. As you you finally reach the top of his trousers and started to unbuckle his belt, you found his hands over yours moving them away. You looked back at him with a confused look

“Trust me I want this” you plead, moving your hands back towards his area

“I want this too.” He lifted you off him and stood up. The sizeable bulge in his pants agreed with what he was saying. “But I don’t want either of us waking up in the morning filled with regret” 

He took hold of your hands and helped you stand up. You was still a bit wobbly, but that passionate kiss had sobered up you enough that you could walk, even it had made your legs turn to jelly. He placed an arm around your waist and helped guide you back to your room.

As you entered, you looked around and saw that none of the other girls had retired for the night yet, so it was just you & Charles standing there. He helped lower you onto the couch you were calling a bed and you leaned forward and pulled his shirt closer to you so you could kiss him again. He lingered for a few seconds before stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead

“Goodnight (y/n). Sweet dreams”

“Goodnight” you blissfully responded as you lay back down. 

--------------

You closed your eyes and for the first time in several weeks you did indeed have sweet dreams

A follow up to this story can be found here

[yeehanwritings]

The Marriage From Hell (McHanzo)

So remember that post I wrote about how I wanted to make a story about Psychotic!Hanzo and McCree where they go around killing people but are super lovey-dovey with each other. Well, I’m actually writing a multi-chapter fic about it. However, I don’t post chapters until I’m at least five chapters into writing it, so... that’s something to look forward too. For now, enjoy this little spin-off of said story.

-

“Sir! We’ve captured Hanzo Shimada in New Mexico and keeping him as a captive!” A member from Blackwatch told Gabriel Reyes the commanding officer.

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Gabriel shouted at them before cursing in Spanish “Quick! Release him!”

“S-sir? I don’t understand,” The agent said, “Weren’t we trying to arrest him and his family?”

“That was before the marriage from fucking hell happened,” Gabriel growled storming pass the agent, who tried to keep up with him, to the holding cells “Do you even know who Hanzo Shimada is married to currently?”

“N-no sir.” The agent shuttered.

“Let me refresh your memory,” Gabriel said turning around giving the scared agent a dark look “Jesse fucking McCree who is currently head of the Deadlock gang in Santa Fe, New Mexico!”

The agent visibly paled so Gabriel continued. “And if so much as a hair is harm on his husband’s head, we’re going to have a major shit storm on our hands.”

Finally making it to the holding cell, Gabriel noticed four men standing guard before barking at them to move to reveal Hanzo Shimada-McCree with heavy-duty handcuffs on. Gabriel cursed in Spanish again when he saw Hanzo’s busted lip with a cut on his forehead and cheek.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, commander,” Hanzo said calmly “However, it is appropriate given the state of my current appearance. I wonder what my Jesse might think if he saw me like this.”

Gabriel’s eye twitched. “Get the doctor!” He barked to the nearest agent.

“Um…sir…both are away on a mission…In Germany…” The agent nervously said.

Hanzo smirked at Gabriel’s reaction. “Looks like you’re going to have to own up to this commander.”

“We need to find a way to get him clean up before we hand him back to McCree,” Gabriel said to the nearest agent who was cowering in fear.

“Who says Jesse isn’t already here?” Hanzo said nonchalantly.

At that Gabriel looks at Hanzo who’s grinning at him. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think that you could take the infamous Jesse McCree’s most prized possession without him coming after it immediately?”

At that exact moment an agents phone rang, he tried to answer it discreetly before he looked over to Gabriel handing over the phone. “It’s for you, sir.”

Gabriel snatched the phone away and asked. “Gabriel Ryes.”

“Commander,” A familiar southern drawl said in a dangerously low voice “You have something that belongs to me.”

“McCree, this is all just a misunderstanding,” Gabriel stated calmly while staring at Hanzo who managed to look bored in handcuffs.

A low chuckled echoed in his ear. “Oh. That your excuse, well then commander from your misunderstanding I raise you an ‘Ooops, I accidentally shot one of your agents.’”

The echo of peacekeeper caused Gabriel to tighten his grip on the phone. “What do you want McCree?”

“Put my husband on the phone,” McCree said voice hardening “Now.”

Gabriel put the phone to Hanzo ear, Hanzo gave him an evil smirk before he changed his voice to distress housewife. “J-Jesse? Is that you?”

“Han! Are you ok?” McCree said immediately voice laced with worry “You don’t sound like yourself. What have they been doing to you?”

“It was awful,” Hanzo said grinning at Gabriel whose eye was twitching “I want to come home.”

“Oh Darlin’ your huckleberry’s coming to get you, I promise,” McCree said frantically.

‘Damn, this little shit really did have Jesse McCree wrapped around his finger.’ Gabriel thought to himself.

Hanzo nodded his head and Gabriel started talking to McCree again. “So how are we going to do this McCree?”

“Bring him to Route 66 in front of the diner,” McCree said voice hardening once again, his southern drawl becoming more pronounced “Y’all better be there within an hour, or else I storm your safehouses.”

With that he hung up, Gabriel looked over to Hanzo who seemed very smug about his little performance over the phone.

“Well then, we mustn’t be late,” Hanzo said giving Gabriel a haughty look  “Jesse doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

-

Gabriel made a point to show up thirty minutes too early with a few agents and Hanzo in tow. He wasn’t surprised to find at least twenty men waiting for them, armed to the teeth giving them a stare down. Gabriel grimaced at the sight but kept a face of indifference as McCree slowly strode up to the front of his men before tipping his hat up revealing a deadpan piercing gaze.

“My husband, Commander Ryes,” McCree said not taking his eyes off him “Where is he?”

Gabriel nodded to his agents, who opens the car door, letting out Hanzo. Hanzo was still handcuffed and the two cuts on his face where closed the best they could with steri-strips, since there was nothing they could do about the split lip. Everyone stilled as they watched McCree’s face morphed into one of anger and he growled. “Take the handcuffs off, now!”

The agent closest to Hanzo quickly unlocked the cuff, and Hanzo made a big show of rubbing his wrist before walking over to McCree pouting. “Jesse…”

McCree immediately wrapped his smaller spouse in his arms before frantically checking him over. “Are you ok baby? What happened to your face?”

“It was horrible Jesse,” Hanzo said practically sell the destress housewife acting point “My face hurts, my wrist hurt, and everything hurt from being thrown around.”

‘That fucking little shit,’ Gabriel thought to himself as he watched the couple.

McCree glared at Gabriel. “I won’t forget this incident so easily Ryes.”

Gabriel knew accidentally imprisoning your potential business partner’s husband, wasn’t the best foot to get off on but he needs this deal with Deadlock to go well. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, maybe there’s some we can do for you in return to rectify this mistake.”

“Rectify?” McCree laughed holding Hanzo closer to him “You're lucky I’m even letting you live, why the hell would I ever work with you…”

McCree stopped halfway through his rant when Hanzo leaned up and whispered something in his ear. He held up one finger before speaking lowly to Hanzo for a few moments before a grin spread across his face.

“Well, well Commander Ryes, it’s your lucky day,” McCree said with a smile “My Darlin’ here is in favor of giving your little crew a second chance. We’ll be in contact, alright boys let’s leave.” McCree looked down at Hanzo with admiration “I want to get this precious thing home.”

Hanzo blushed. “Oh, Jesse.”

‘The fucking couple from Satan,’ Gabriel thought as McCree left with his husband.

“Sir, what was that?” One of his agents asked him.

“The fuck marriage from hell,” Gabriel growled, “Let’s get back to base, this left a bad taste in my mouth.”

-

“My, My Darlin’,” Jesse drawled as he poured Hanzo a glass of wine “You are quite the actor. Get yourself capture just so I could have power over the Blackwatch Commander.”

Hanzo took a slow slip. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you, my love.”

“Could’ve fool me,” McCree said kneeling in front of Hanzo before taking one of his legs and lifting them up trailing soft kisses on the ankle “You’re a fucking genius baby.”

Hanzo blushed as McCree continued to kiss a trail up to his inner thigh before gasping as McCree bit down harshly on the soft flesh. “Well, I am married to a powerful man…ah!”

Right after Hanzo said that McCree dragged his tongue down slowly on Hanzo inner thigh causing Hanzo’s grip on the wine glass to loosen and the glass shattered on the floor.

“I’m a powerful man with an equally powerful,” McCree pause to start trail kisses upwards “Smart…cunning…sexy…beautiful…husband…all…fucking…mine….” McCree placed a chaste kiss on Hanzo lips when he finished. “How about we continue this in our bedroom?”

Hanzo frantically nodded smiling as McCree whisked him away to their room as the celebrated the spoils of their plans.

[big-disney-kid-storyteller]

A tale of the ring

Most people who go out ring hunter have it a little easy. Know the girl your ring to buy for and then go out and look though a few shops some even cheat and take their fiancé with them. Well that works great if your even in the same country as your fiancé, but this is not the case for me. As a Military man I have been deployed to many different countries, but this tale takes place whiles I was out in the Dessert of Iraq. In mid 2005, my unit was called to the Iraq, my first combat tour, but that is not what I'm here to talk about. But I did have to leave the woman I loved, though she was scheduled to depart on her own adventure into the Army. Spending time emailing, calling back and fourth with an extensive pile of letters and packages, which kept everyone jealous of me. During one of our calls, Lisa did confide in me that she had decided not to join the Army, but wanted to stay with me. (YAY) So now being stuck in Iraq and planning to get engaged I needed to get a ring. Lots of women would say it's romantic getting a ring from a foreign country, but lucky for me, my girl likes the simple things in life, Also I just couldn't run down town to the local jeweler.  So I took to what know, the internet. Now, during my first tour, the internet was not like sitting in you room with a laptop computer on your lap, No it was walking a mile down the road to a large tent filled with phones and about a dozen computers with a small line of soldiers waiting to get on. Once you log on you have about 30 minutes to use the computer and if you run out of time, it's to the back of the line for you. Since I only had one mission, it was easy, starting with the basic place to look for engagement ring I went onto the Macy jewelry website and three pages in I found a lovely little ring with a blue sapphire stone, marking the page I carried on. Getting to page 10 with nothing else catching my eye, I went back to page three and clicked on the little sapphire ring. With the ring picked out and ordered I wanted to make sure it got home safely, so I decided to have it shipped to my brothers house in Barstow California. So who would have guessed I would run into any other problems. Since I only get on the internet every few days I decided to check my account, never would have expected to have my account lower than expected. Checking the account I saw that Macy's jewelry had double charged me for the ring. What the hell?   Now having to go back and get ready for my shift, I have to figure out a way to get back tomorrow to fix this error. Lucky for me all it took was a quick plea to my section leader about my bank account and I was cleared. The next evening. Being smart, the night before I signed off the computer after I found a problem, I made sure to write down the number to Macy's Jewelry. Saved me at least forty-five minutes of wait time, all I had to do was sign up for a phone. Same concept applies for the phone as a computer, stand in line wait, only 30 min available. The conversation. "Hello thank you for calling Macy's Jewelry, my name is _______" "Yes, hello, my name is Robert Davis. I am a deployed service member in the Middle East." "Oh, God" "Excuse me?" "Every month I get a poor sappy story from some soldier over seas trying to call in to get a discount, only to find out they never been to boot camp." BOOOOM!  Close mortar attack. Shakes the ground. "Oh my, what was that" Now for a brief moment, all I can think about here is please don't let me lose connection, because I do I'll have to start the whole process over. Now most may wonder why if a mortar attack happens, why we dint run for the bunkers? T.V. is over rated and after a few months in Country, you just got used to it. "Inbound" BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! "And that?" "Outbound" "OK, I'm sorry. What can I help you with today?" Ahhh yes, after about 10 min of clicking on her computer, it would only be a few days before the money was put back in the account. Halleluiah! Lets skip forward a few months. Mid Feb. coming home. Since Lisa was my welcome home party, I knew how I was gonna pop the question, all I need was the ring. You read earlier that to make life easy I had the ring sent to my brothers house, this was to keep it out of range of Lisa since she was always at my parents house. No accidental ooops, she saw the ring. Set up, just before flying out of Kuwait I called my Mom and had her get the ring from Paul, my older brother and fold it up in a piece of paper and put it in a envelope, put my name and address on it with a stamp. Put in with all my other mail collected over last few month, my Mom gave the stack to Lisa to bring down with her and give to me. You can kind of see where this is going. Fast forward to morning after I got home, no need to tell you what went on that night. Just lying in bed in our Hotel room, talking about what's gonna be happening now. I suddenly ask for the stack of mail I knew Mom had send down. Going through them one by one, most stuff import things like Insurance or getting phone reconnected. About the fourth one in I hand the envelope Mom had written out Lis and ask her to open it, a bit confused she does. Unfolding the paper with ring on it, I ask the question. "Will you Marry me?" After saying yes, Lisa asked me how I had gotten the ring, since she knew I had it mailed home. I had told her it was delivered with the rest of the mail by her. I got really lucky because one, she said yes and two, the ring was perfectly fit to her finger and it was just a simple ring and style she liked.  

[tales-of-a-fallen-star]

Otherworld (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

Fandom: FFXV Genre: Humour, Drama, Angst (I know, great combination) Pairing: Ignis Scientia/ reader (even though nothing really happens) Words: 2640

(A/N): Ooops, I did it again! Yes, I neglected my OC-centered fic in favour of something completely different once more (I’m so sorry Cassidy! I promise I’ll make your story known one day!) and this is what happened. Most of it is just witty and angsty dialogue, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. (Maybe I’ll write a second part at some point, considering this ‘end’ has a lot of loose ends, but I’ll try and finish at least the first 3 chapters of ‘Fire and Ice’ before I’ll come back to this.)

From the living room window, the darkened clouds of an approaching thunder storm were clearly visible. The streets, which were usually quite lively during the evenings, were emptying themselves, sheathing everything in a dull quiet, it was like the calm before the storm. Not the slightest noise was audible from afar, except for-

„Come on, die already! Oh my god, did that fucker just heal himself AGAIN?! I swear to God, this pattern isn’t normal”, you shouted at your TV, specifically at the boss in the game you were playing.  

The Sanctuary Keeper has been troubling you for almost 3 hours now and you were about to give up, though perhaps he’d be a lot easier to handle if you didn’t go for the “No Sphere-Grid challenge”, but you were convinced that you played ‘Final Fantasy X’ enough to know all the strategies and to be able to beat the game without levelling up your characters, but for some reason you were struggling with the boss right before your eyes.

“Ugh, this is embarrassing.”, you mumbled to yourself and when the Sanctuary Keeper hit you with another wave of its ‘Photon Wings’ attack you knew you were done for.

“Okay, that’s it, enough Final Fantasy for today.”

With a frustrated sigh, you closed the application on your PS4 and thought about what to do now, you contemplated whether you should just watch something on Netflix or check the PS Store for anything interesting. You decided to do the latter, in hopes of finding a new and exciting game, that maybe wasn’t as frustrating as ‘Final Fantasy X’ at the moment, so you opened the PS Store and browsed through the section featuring all the new games. You stopped for a moment when you saw the icon for a game called ‘Final Fantasy XV’.

“Wait, what? This is out already? I thought it wouldn’t come out before November?”

Intrigued you checked what this was about, clicking on the game for more information and, indeed, you could get the game immediately. Throwing your hands in the air, you decided to just give it a try. You’ve seen some trailers for this game and they looked promising enough. Of course, it would be another ‘Final Fantasy’ game for today, but you were sure this wouldn’t be anywhere as frustrating as what you did before.

You were surprised that it took only 10 minutes for the game to download, but once everything was done, you decided to start it and give it a try. But your anticipation and excitement for your new game didn’t last too long when, all of a sudden, your PS4 crashed and your TV screen went black.

“Oh, come on, are you kidding me?”

Aggressively you pushed the PS-Button on your controller and restarted your console. You tried to launch the game again, but to no success, your PS4 just crashed again. After 3 more unsuccessful attempts, you decided to plug out the ac-cable of your PS4 in hopes of resetting what was causing this problem and got up from your couch to do so. Reaching behind your console and fiddling around with the cable chaos behind your TV you finally found the right cable and gave it a quick and strong tug. It was at that exact moment, though, that a lightning struck your house, sending everything into darkness. You felt the electricity running through your veins and suddenly all you could see was black and you fell unconscious.

When you woke up again it was morning, or at least it seemed so. You tried to pull yourself up but stopped immediately when you felt every single of your muscles aching.

“Ughhh, what the hell happened?” you mumbled and put a hand to your head, trying to dull its aching. It was then that you noticed where you were, not on the ground of your living room, but in a very comfortable bed in a room you’ve never seen before.

‘Where the hell am I?’

You looked around the room, noticing a tray with food on a nightstand to your right. The only other thing on the nightstand was a clock, telling you it was currently 9:24am.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT! I have to get to work!” you cursed while simultaneously trying to get up, the aching in your muscles be damned. Once your sense of balance finally adapted to your surroundings, you quickly took some steps towards the door only to find it locked. It was exactly then that you slightly began to panic. You didn’t know where you were or how you got there and now you were even locked in here? What exactly was going on?

“Heeeey! Anybody there? Would you be so kind AND LET ME OUT OF HERE?” you screamed while knocking infuriated at the door in hopes of anybody hearing you. Your efforts were rewarded with the sound of approaching footsteps. After a few moments, you heard the unlocking sound of the door and stepped aside, crossing your arms, awaiting to see the face of the person who dared to lock you up in this room.

When the door swung open it revealed a man standing right in front of you. You looked at him closely. He had light brown hair, which was styled up in a very spikey, yet kind of elegant, way. His face seemed very composed, his green eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, gave no emotions away. He was dressed in black trousers and wore a black blazer with – was that a leo-print shirt? – underneath it. ‘Interesting style choice…’ you mused, trying to supress the smile that tingled around your lips and you couldn’t help but think that you’ve seen him somewhere before.

“Are you done staring at me?” he enquired while crossing his arms, his posture now mirroring yours.

A blush started to blossom on your cheeks. You didn’t necessarily mean to stare but the man in front of you was definitely nice to look at. Now his presence felt sort of intimidating and you couldn’t help yourself but standing there like a babbling mess.

“Yeah, right, sorry. Didn’t really mean to - I mean, uhm… sorry, but who are you? You seem kinda familiar?” you stammered, clearing your throat to mask your embarrassment.

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I usually don’t forget a face.” He replied with a studied politeness in his voice.

“Uhm… okay? I guess… excuse me, but… where exactly am I? I don’t really remember getting here.”

“You’re at the Citadel and, truth be told, I was hoping you could tell me how you managed to get past the security guards at the gates without anyone noticing.” He curtly replied, his eyes piercing yours as if he was looking for the truth in them.

“The Citadel? Where exactly is that? Because all I remember is pulling out the ac-cord of my PS4 before everything went black.”

He raised his eyebrows at your answer, probably contemplating whether you were completely mad or just a good liar.

“So you’re not a citizen of the Crown City then?” was all he gave back.

“The what? Crown City? Okay, listen, I don’t know what madhouse you escaped from, but I really just want to get home.” now a hint of desperation clung to your voice. Whatever this man was saying, it only confused you more and you just wanted to get out of there and step into the next train that would take you home.

“Apparently that depends clearly on one’s perspective, as for me, you sound like you yourself just escaped a madhouse as well. I believe you should get some more rest before we continue this conversation.”

He turned around and was about to leave and the panic, that steadily grew in the pit of your stomach, now soaked your entire body.

“No! Please, wait!” you cried and he stopped in his tracks.

“Yes?”

“Could I make a phone call?”

“I guess that can be arranged, yes.” He pulled out a phone from the inside pocket of his blazer and handed it over to you. Before you dialled the first number that came to mind, your best friend’s number to be exact, you looked closer at the phone in question. You never heard of that brand name before and you began to wonder whether all of this was just a bad dream.

You dialled the number of your best friend, but all you heard from the other end was a ‘The number you are calling is unknown.’ and your eyes widened in shock. You looked at the display again, checking if the number was correct and it definitely was, you were sure of it.

“Is something the matter?” the man in front of you enquired but you couldn’t muster your voice to answer him. All you could feel was the pit of panic in your stomach, which was weighing your entire body down. Tears started to well up in your eyes and it took every fibre of your composure to keep them back. After a few moments you closed your eyes and remembered to start breathing again. When you opened your eyes, a bit calmer now, you gave the man in front of you his phone back, not daring to look him in the eyes. He took it and raised a questioning eyebrow at you, though he thought it best to not question you any further.

“Perhaps it would be best if you just told me where you come from. Surely we can arrange passage for you to get back home.” He said with a reassuring look in his eyes. You tried to regulate your breathing again and told him where you lived but the panic in your stomach immediately grew again, as he raised his eyebrows once more, but this time in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I have never heard of this place, and I do pride myself on my geographical knowledge, but where on Eos is that?” he queried and it was then that you were sure this had to be some kind of bad dream or sick joke.

“Okay, seriously, this is not funny anymore. Just drop this act and let me go home, please!” the tears you held back before now started to roll down your cheeks. You cupped your face with your hands and started sobbing, your desperation now on full display. Your entire body was shaking until you felt reassuring hands on your shoulders.

“I need you to remain calm. I don’t want to canvass you any further, given your mental state right now, but I need to know if you may have been in contact with any Magitek Soldiers before you got here.”

At that word, you immediately looked up and he seemed a bit startled.

“Perhaps they captured you and performed some experiments on your mind and memories?” he enquired further, in hopes of finally getting to solve this problem.

Was this guy for real? He was talking about ‘Magitek soldiers’, fictional beings you knew from ‘Final Fantasy’ and he asked if they ‘captured’ you?

But then it suddenly hit you. Now you remembered where you’ve seen this man before. It was in one of the trailers for ‘Final Fantasy XV’.

“Oh, no, no, no, this can’t be. This is impossible, this must be some sick joke. This isn’t real. It can’t be.” You rambled while stepping away from the man in front of you, your entire body was shaking.

“Do you remember something?” he asked but you didn’t even listen to him anymore.

“Are you telling me I’m trapped in a game? No way! What am I supposed to do now? Wield some daggers and swords around? Run around this world and kill monsters to finish some side quests? When I’m low on health I just use a Potion or an Elixir or cast a quick ‘Cura’ to heal myself? Or when I die I just use a Phoenix Down and everything is okay again? What next? Am I supposed to summon all the famous summons, Shiva, Leviathan, Ifrit, Ramuh and Bahamut? Who’s the big baddie, huh? Where is he? Just let me go to him, finish him off and then I can return home? Hey, while we’re at it: Where is the Cid of this game? Every Final Fantasy has one, so he must be around here somewhere - or maybe it’s you. Is your name Cid, by any chance?” you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling on, the rage and disbelief in you just grew with every word and inwardly you cursed yourself for knowing so much about this stupid franchise, which currently seemed to entrap you. What you didn’t notice was the further you went on your body started to shake more and more, streams of tears still running down your face.

The man’s eyes only widened in something akin to irritation. Considering everything you just said you expected a more meaningful reaction from him.

After a while he pushed his glasses back up his nose before saying “No, my name is not Cid. It’s Ignis, Ignis Scientia, and the fact that you just told me some crucial things about our world you claim not to be from leads me to the suggestion that you haven’t been entirely honest with me.”

The seriousness in his voice startled you, but you still had trouble taking anything of this seriously and the anger inside you kept growing. You were frustrated, angry and all you wanted was to leave this place.

“I suggest you remain from throwing another tantrum so we can discuss this as civilized people and come to a solution beneficial for both of us.” He stated matter-of-factly.

That was it, that was the drop to flood your barrel of anger and frustration.

“Okay, listen up, Specky” you started and pointed your finger directly at him, your voice a low and threatening hiss, “I have no idea how it was possible that I ended up in this world, and I don’t even care anymore, as long as I get out of here, but if, on top of everything else, an aloof, stiff robot like you has the nerve to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do then I’m really not sure how long it will take me before I start throwing something other than a tantrum.”

Unmoved by your threat, he pushed his glasses up his nose once more and said, “Glad to see my plan worked.”

“I beg your pardon?” you retorted, your anger still clearly lacing your voice.

“You stopped crying.”

At that statement, your mouth just fell slightly open, unable to reply anything. With your right hand you wiped away the remains of your tears on your heated cheeks and looked up at him in disbelief. Did he really try to make you angry just so you would stop crying?

“I- I-“, you began to stammer but he gently lifted a hand to silence you.

“It’s alright. You seem quite exhausted. Maybe it would be better if you rested some more. I’m afraid I have other duties awaiting me but I will try and check on you later, as soon as I can.” His tone was gentle now and if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was the ghost of a smile on his face.

Suddenly you felt the emotional storm, which raged inside you, subside and you were painfully aware of the aching in your muscles again.

“I- thank you.” Was all you could manage to say and he nodded reassuringly at you, his eyes now a lot warmer than before.

“Don’t mention it.”

And with that he left the room, looking one more time at you over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him. You sat down on the bed again, a sad smile tugging at your lips. All that was now left for you to do was to fall back and drift off into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep and maybe, just maybe, when you’ll wake, you’ll find yourself on the floor of your living room once more.

[thefatnoona]

Monster Woo: 261 (pt. 2/5)

She could not ignore the incessant vibration under her pillow anymore. She had tried to pretend that it was just part of her dream but its rising intensity forced her to grab her handphone and answer the call. “Hi mum,” she greeted sleepily, her voice coming out rough from having just woken up.

“____, were you sleeping?” chirped her mother rather too brightly.

She cleared her throat. “Mmmhhmm. It’s…” she looked at the time on the phone. “…7.10 in the morning on a Saturday. I don’t have school today and it’s too early to wake up.”

“Ooops! Sorry sorry! How are you? How is everything so far? Is the apartment alright? Are you eating well? Are you having a hangover now?” her mother gabbled on cheerfully.

“Mum, I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” she groaned. “And no mum, I’m not having a hangover. I don’t even drink much.”

“Alright, alright. I know you’re a good girl. How is school so far? Have you made any friends?” her mother went on, anxiety creeping into her voice.

“Mum, I’m not 12! I’m almost 30!” she whined with exasperation. “I’m only here for a year, mum. I don’t need to make friends. It’s not high school.”

“____, I know you’re only there for a year but you’ll need someone to be there in case you need help. What if you fall sick and you need to see the doctor? What if you get drunk and you need someone to send you home? What if someone decides to stalk you from school?” her mother theorized.

“Mum, are you cursing me right now? This early in the morning? I cannot believe this,” she groaned. “Mum, I’ll be fine. I have a friend in my department. And I told you, I don’t drink much. I’ll probably skip all the Korean drinking parties.”

After spending ten minutes trying to convince her mother that she was smart and independent enough to take care of herself, they both said their goodbyes and ended the conversation. She crashed back onto her pillow, trying to return to sweet surrender, without much success. She kept tossing and turning every now and then, after which she rolled to her right and left her bed unwillingly, heading for the bathroom.

Half an hour later, a towel around her neck and her hair dripping wet, she was rummaging in the refrigerator for anything that could be considered as breakfast. Realising that there were only two bottles of water, a carton of nearly-expired milk and a packet of withered greens, she decided to get out to explore the neighbourhood and shop for groceries at the same time.

Starting from her apartment building, she crossed the street, eyeing a little coffee shop with its contrasting white-and-brown signboard and pretty red cups in the window. She stepped in, taking in the cosy table arrangement with rustic, country-style interior. There was no one else in the shop other than her and a young man at the counter. Spying her favourite caffeinated concoction on the menu, she marched up, mentally arranging her intended dialogue.

“어서오세요!” the barista greeted her cheerfully with bright eyes and dimpled cheeks. “뭐 드릴까요?”

“아이스 바닐라 라떼 한잔 주세요,” she said, pulling out some cash from her wallet.

“네, 3,500원 주세요,” he quoted the price of her iced vanilla latte. Receiving a crisp ₩10,000 note, he handed over the change and asked her politely to wait while he made her requested drink. “고객님, 여기 아이스 바닐라 라떼가 있습니다!” he called out five minutes later, handing over a full cup with an eye smile.

“감사합니다,” she responded gratefully, grabbing a straw and a napkin before settling down at a cosy corner for two. She decided to chill out with her drink and some music prior to her neighbourhood exploration.

Having secured her headphones firmly over her ears, she sipped her latte and switched on Google Maps on her phone. Her fingers worked their magic while Dean’s melodious voice worked its way to her soul. Her keen eyes behind the black rectangular frames, scanned and read the various locations that popped up on the screen. Soon, she was totally immersed in memorising certain shop locations and their directions.

She was so absorbed in music and map-reading that she did not notice a tall, muscular figure passing in front of her, taking a seat at an adjacent table. A steaming white cup before him, he peered at her from behind his trademark shades. Smirking, he edged closer and leaned towards her. “Hey,” his voice came out in a husky drawl. “Hey, Reading Girl.” And then he poked her shoulder with a ridiculously long finger.

“Huh?!” was all that she said when she looked up, startled to see his face with its chiseled features. She removed her headphones instantly. “아저씨! The driver for bus 261!”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I have a name, you know? Do you even remember it?“ he raised an eyebrow. “So, did you get home safe last night?” he asked lazily, changing the subject.

“Yes I did. Why wouldn’t I?” she retorted. She pushed back her glasses since they slipped a little.

“Why are you always so snappy? Geez,” he frowned. “Chill, will ya? I was just making small-talk.”

She looked away and cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I get cranky when I’m tired or hungry.”

“I guess you haven’t eaten yet, huh?” he said, nodding at her coffee. “Wanna grab some breakfast with me? Their pancakes are pretty good.”

“Is it your treat?” she eyed him suspiciously. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. I was just getting a caffeine boost before I get some groceries and make myself some breakfast at home. Thanks anyway.” She pressed her lips tightly together. Why did she just explain herself to him?

“Okay, right,” he nodded his head. “So you’re going to the mart after this?”

“Th-the mart?” she stuttered involuntarily, unsure of its name nor location despite having just studied the area.

“I can show you around if you like,” he offered, his voice coming out deep but sincere. “I know this area like the back of my hand since my mum lives around here.”

“Oh,” she just about managed. “Thank you…” How did he manage to make her feel guilty just like that?

“No problem about it. It’s not hard to see you’re new around here.” He took a long sip of his hot Americano. “Where are you from? How long have you been in Korea?”

She stirred her latte and answered his first question. “And I’ve been here about two weeks? I just started school this week.”

“So you’re a student?” He smirked. “Figures, you look young.”

“Well, thanks…I guess.” And for the first time in the course of their interaction, she grinned. “I’m actually pretty old. Who knows, I’m probably older than you are.”

He gave a voracious laugh. “What year were you born in? You’re a 90s kid, right? Come on now, ‘95? ‘96? ‘97? Yah, you probably have to call me 오빠.”

“Excuse me? I hardly know you so I don’t think I need to call you that, no matter how much older you may be, 버스 아저씨,” she snapped, upping her attitude.

He did not seem to mind being called Bus Uncle in Korean. In fact, he simply laughed it off heartily. “Call me whatever you like. I think I’m still older than you though, so it’s fine,” he said with a smile, making him look more genial. “But seriously, you’re a 90s kid right? Which year is it? Early 90s?”

“What is the obsession with my birth year?” she groaned. “I don’t even know you Bus Uncle!”

“Well, you know my name,” he said quietly. “I’m just asking your birth year so I know how to address you properly.”

She glanced sideways at him, took a quick breath and muttered swiftly, “I was born in ‘87.”

He spluttered his coffee. “Say that again??”

“I’m an ‘80s kid. I was born in ‘87. There, are you happy now?” she rolled her eyes.

His eyes glinted in the morning sun and a slow smile was spreading slyly over his angular face. “Right, so you are younger than I am. You have to address me appropriately! Calling me 오빠 would be nice,” he added childishly.

She rolled her eyes again. “I think I’ll stick to 버스 아저씨 for now,” she replied, gathering her things and getting up.

He got up too, in a flash. “Where are you going? Are you leaving already?”

“Of course. I can’t hang around here all day. I still have to buy groceries and it’s already later than I expected,” she retorted.

“You’re going to the mart, right? I’ll take you there,” he offered, his left hand holding his cup while his right hand grabbed her wrist. “I don’t have anything on today.”

“아저씨!” she yanked her hand away, glaring at him. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“Okay, okay, my bad,” he apologised, raising his right hand. “Don’t be mad. And smile a bit more. You look better when you smile.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Can I take you there?”

“What? Is this a date?” she sneered as she threw her empty cup into the rubbish bin.

“Would you like it to be?” he grinned, following her out of the coffee shop.

“Look, 아저씨,” she stopped in her tracks and faced him. “I don’t know what you’re playing at but I’m not interested, okay? I have too much work to do and too little time. It’s my first week of school and I still have a year more to go until I finish my thesis. I don’t have time to do anything else. I don’t have time to make friends. I-I…” She stopped talking, feeling as if everything was spinning around her. The phone in her hand fell to the ground as she clutched at her heart, feeling it pounding violently in her chest. The air felt stuck in her throat, making her feel like vomiting. The world started to look as dark as night.

The last words she heard before she crashed, belonged to the muscular, tattooed man, who kept calling out to her. “Reading Girl! Reading Girl!”

[daddyconfessions]

sugar tales: Curse of the Platonic Baby’s

I saw this cutie on SA. It was May 2015. All her photos were were outside, near the beach etc. I figured either California or Florida. My type of chick. The mocha/brown skin and dark hair did it in for me. I send her a message and within a day I get a response. We go back and forth through a few messages before I get to an allowance offer. She’s seems ok with my offer but I’m not convinced. We talk a bit more and decide to meet. I offer coffee but she invites me to have a drink with her at her place of employment. No problem. I’m thinking stripper. I’ll smash a few times and disappear. But she works at a bar as I later find out and invites me to drop by in the early afternoon, right after the lunch rush.  I have a pretty easy going job and can disappear for a couple of hours so we set up a time, etc.

The next day we do the usual confirmation emails before I’m in the car and on my way. About 10 minutes away she switches up on me. Tells me to meet her at another spot 2 blocks away. WTF? Oh well I’m committed now. I’ve re-arranged my day for the meet. Might as well see it through. When arrive at the new location I text her that “I’m here” and she tells me to come in. She’s at the table with a friend. I don’t like surprises but I’m in too deep now.

I walk in and sure enough it’s my Baby along with her friend and some guy. She stands up introduces me to her friend whom I’ll call Friend1 and after a few pleasantries we’re trekking to our own table. She’s plain today. Dressed in T-shirt from work, jeans, (cute ass) enough make-up to say she put in the effort, and hair pulled back in a ponytail.

Apparently she took a break as she explains it and came over to bar2 because she was uncomfortable meeting me the first time. Friend1 is a sugarbaby as it turns out and she felt she needed her around for this first meet.

Turns out she has two friends there. One is a bartender whom I’ll call Bartender friend.  Bartender friend comes over and chats us up and gets our drink order. Bartender friend is cute, a little thick but I’d spend money on it. Bartender friend disappears and me and baby chat more. Baby is from Los Angeles, recently transplanted. She says she doesn’t know about sugaring and I honestly believe her. Babies always say this is their first time and they finish that claim with “my friend told me about this.” I know that’s just bullshit but not her. She’s clueless. We make a pretty good connection as we chat. The Bartender friend returns with drinks.  After a few sips from us both, I delve into her sexuality and find out she’s very open. BJ’s with no condomn, maybe will swallow if she’s in the mood or if she likes me enough, and loves to kiss. My kind of baby.  The margarita sucks. OMG. But I’m not here for the drinks.

Baby tells me she’s struggling with rent and car note since coming  to town. I jumped right on that. “I’ll pay your rent and car note.” Then for good measure, “I’ll even given you some spending money each week.” And I meant it. If I could lock her in I’m gold. She bites. Perfect. She was about a 7 or 8 on a scale of 10. Cute lil frame. Probably hot in a nice skirt, and blouse. Baby had that Halle Berry with long hair thing going. She’d kill in a pair of red bottoms. Can’t wait to get her in the car for a trip to the mall.

I tell her she doesn’t have to work so hard. She can use her bar money to enjoy. I’ll take care of the serious stuff.  I repeat myself to lock her in. She goes and gets Friend1. She tells me quite honestly that she wants her friend who has done this quite a bit to give me the ok. I’m thinking no problem. At most, I’ll have to cough up more cash but no way I’m losing out on this! Friend1 sits down and we chat. I don’t go into details about my offer. I’ll let the two ladies talk. Friend1 is cool but not that attractive. Through the course of the conversation Baby tells me Friend1 is out of costume. She’s not at her best. I go “Oh,” and the doubt was all over my face. Next thing I know bitches phones are out and both are swiping through club photo’s. Friend1 cleans up well. In another life, I would have met Friend1 and at least tricked a few weeks with her. Anyway, the conversation turns to arrangements. Friend1 and I both talk about our history in sugaring. Friend1 tells me how her current SD has her and a friend (we’ll say Friend2) in his stable. I’m like whoa. Apparently some rich investment banker. Through the collage of photos I saw the other friend. She was hot too! Lucky bastard.

I’m like what’s he doing for the arrangement? Shit how did this guy hit the lottery and find these two chicks willing to play house?  Two hot babes, same apartment? Menage trois? WTF? Baby is fading from my view quickly! He’s paying all the bills she says, which is about $3500 a month plus giving each chick $2k a month for allowance AND an addition sum for shopping expenses.  Not too shabby.  I’m practically salivating at this point. This guy is my Lord and master. I’m like, “I bet he’s popping Viagra to keep up with you two healthy chicks.” Then she drops the bomb. “Oh, he’s 72. He can’t get it up. My friend and I just keep him company. We let him do a feel and other things but sexually he’s not a problem.”  

WTF? Baby is back in my focus now and I see her fading away all on her own!  My chances with Baby are going out the window fast. Gotta recoup somehow.

Friend1 says how all of her daddies have mostly been platonic. Fuck me!!!! No way I’m getting Baby now.  I’m in my 40’s but I’m a horny wretch and my dick still gets nice and hard. Throw in a blue pill and I’m 20 all over again.

And I say as much. “Well I’m middle aged but still quite virile. I’m not looking for anything platonic.” Friend1 smiles and keeps talking about her current daddy. Says he only comes to town occasionally and when he does they have to keep him company. Bitch. I hate her. She’s got the perfect setup. “You lying,” I say throwing shade. Phone was thrust back in my face with more photos. If I have to bet on the photos I’d say they were real – images of daddy, a nice high rise apt, and plenty of scantily clad days at the pool. Fuck.

Bartender friend comes back and asks me how I like the drink and I tell her it’s horrible. She says she made it. Ooops! No way would I have told this sexy, blond, thick little no drink making ass chick that intentionally. I could see my unborn all over her face if I played my cards right. She smiled and said she’s practicing. So no charge for the drink.  Baby, bartender friend and Friend1 chat it up about that night’s plans as well as plans for New Orleans that weekend. Baby doesn’t want to go cause she doesn’t have money. I jump on it again. “I got you sweetie. Go have fun. That’s what I’m here for.” I’m desperate at this point. I know I could lose her to Friend1’s platonic ass influence. Fuck it. There all going to New Orleans, in one or two cars and sharing a room. $500 should be enough for Baby.  I got $500 to throw away just for the chance to wedge myself into Baby’s mind. I’m willing to do $700 even just to make up for missing work.

I pitch the offer. Yea I know. I’m desperate. Baby smiles and tells all of us she has to think about it. Frend1 is a true sugarbaby. She’s like, “There you go sweetie. He’s paying for it. Take it. Now you have no excuse.” Bitch. I think I love her though.

We sit around for another 30 minutes chit chatting before Baby has to absolutely get back to work. We say our goodbyes to the friends and walk out. Outside, we exchange a few more words, hugs and I manage to steal a kiss on the cheek. I end it with some strategic comments like, “let me know if you want to go on the trip”,  “we could be good together”, “I’m already hating you’re so stressed about work. Let me take that worry off your plate” blah blah. Then we say goodbye.

I text later with my standard, “nice to meet you today” text. She replies and we exchange a few text. Then suddenly she stops. Doesn’t answer my last question. I text the next day, then wait two days and text again. No answer. She’s gone. I know Ms. Platonic got in her ear. I had her locked but I can’t compete with a 70 year old millionaire who only wants to look at the pussy. I’m sure baby shifted up her search to more advantageous arrangement. Can’t blame her.

In a dream I could have had all 3 of these chicks. $3k, maybe $4k and a weekend and I could have turned up real nice. In reality no kitty was to ever be given. Platonic baby’s stay winning.

[aventuramexicana]

Mexico City Steals My Heart

1/12/16- Thursday (Day 1 in Mexico City)

When I last left off, I was in a cab on my way to my AirBnB in Mexico City.

I’d done some research in advance, and consulted a friend who lives in the city, and decided that the ideal neighborhood for me would be Roma Norte. It is a young, artsy, hipster area, and when I read that it was the kind of place where you could expect to find organic produce and vegetarian restaurants, I was sold.   

I arrived at the AirBnB at approximately 11:15 a.m., was given a quick tour of the apartment from my host, Melissa, and went down for a nap by 11:45 a.m.. I swear that planes have shrunk in recent years. I used to be able to lower my tray table, put my pillow on it, and fall soundly asleep an in admittedly uncomfortable, awkwardly curved position. I can’t even do that anymore. So, after my long night of flying, I needed to sleep before I could expect my brain to perform at any reasonable capacity. 

I woke up around 2 p.m. and did some research to help me decide where I was headed first. As a Frida fangirl, La Casa Azul (El Museo de Frida Kahlo) was at the top of my list. My aunt Angie told me that I MUST go to El Museo de Antropologia, a recommendation that was bolstered by a couple of friends in San Jose. Lastly, my cab driver had recommended El Museo del Templo Mayor. I made my decision on where to go first based on walkability from where I was staying, and how late each was open, then set out toward El Museo de Antropologia.   

Google Maps said the walk would be 30 minutes long, which was a decent estimate. It took me about 40 minutes because I stopped into a convenience store for water and a breakfast bar, and because my sense of direction is horrendous so I really had to study the map.   

The museum was incredible. Honestly, it’s at the top of my list as one of my favorite things that I’ve seen in all of Mexico, and I’m not alone. It is #1 on TripAdvisor’s list of things to see in Mexico City. As a kid, my parents used to take my brother and I on trips to Tijuana, which was fun but started to get kinda sketchy when I was about 10 years old. We graduated to Ensenada, which became our standard vacation spot for several years. Then we visited Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlán and Puerto Vallarta. Let me just say, La Bufadora has NOTHING on this museum. Of course, one is a “natural wonder” while the other is a museum, so maybe they shouldn’t be compared, but I don’t care. I’m doing it. The museum wins.   

I took so many photos that I wouldn’t even know how to begin to choose my favorite, and so I have attached an album because I feel like it helps to demonstrate the scope of all that I was able to see. I don’t think I can do a better job expressing how much this museum meant to me, than to include my TripAdvisor review: "As a 3rd generation Mexican-American, I feel at times that my ties to my culture are stretched and tired. This museum was an incredible and moving experience for me. The exhibits were beautiful, informative and narrative. After making my way through several rooms I was overcome with a sense of belonging to something much bigger than myself. You can't put a price tag on an experience like that, and this museum is totally affordable. Go see it for yourself.” 

Album: Museo de Antropologia

While on my walk home I was swept up by the beauty and activity of the city. I passed a group of young college-aged-ish people rollerblading together around the smooth tile in a plaza, businessmen dressed in suits, and families out to dinner. I loved it. I know that for some people, being in a setting like that can make them feel nervous, but it was comforting to me. I wasn’t the tall guera with a spotlight shining on me everywhere I went. There was nothing remarkable about me, I looked just like plenty of people and not at all like plenty of others. I felt safe, lost in the mix of it.

By the time I got back to the apartment, I’d been walking for 4 hours (approximately an hour to and from my destination, plus the time spent there), and I had blisters. Ooops. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to be wearing my cheap knock-off Keds from Target. Oh well. I did a quick Yelp search and found a vegetarian restaurant, El Pan Comido, just a 6 minute walk away.

The restaurant was small and quaint with a full menu of fantastic vegetarian and vegan options. Yes, vegan! Even vegan! Anyway, I ordered a vegetarian burger with avocado, grilled peppers, grilled onion, and I don’t even know what else, because honestly it was such a relief not to have to carefully study the menu. I also had some unsweetened strawberry tea. My food was delicious. At this point, there is no denying that I’m a cookie addict. So when the waitress offered a cookie for dessert I jumped at it, never expecting that she would bring out a giant tray of some 15 different cookie options. I picked a sugar cookie with lime icing. It was AMAZING. I want to learn how to make it, but I’m also afraid to try. If I were to get anywhere close to that finished product, I could kiss my pant size goodbye. 

Back at the apartment I had a lovely conversation with my AirBnB host, Melissa, and her partner, Eugenio. Turns out that Eugenio is from Granada (where I spent my junior year of college), so we had a mutual appreciation for the differences between Spain’s Spanish and Mexico’s Spanish, as well as the cultural differences between the two communities. Melissa is a pilot for a Mexican airline, and we talked at length about working in that industry. She is from San Diego and is considering trying to get a job with a major airline in the States. So, as someone who was raised by a flight attendant for American Airlines, I shared my perspective about the perks and drawbacks of  that job with regard to work-life balance.

They were both super sweet, were intrigued by how I’d landed in Oaxaca, and asked me what I was doing there. Eugenio generously offered me some lentil soup that he’d just made, and I politely declined, on account of my very full, happy stomach. I told them what my goal was, in terms of improving my language abilities, and shared that I was surprised to find Mexico City was really hitting me right in my soft spot. Their eyes lit up and they both heavily promoted moving to the city. They shared that it feels like everyone in Mexico City is vegetarian or gluten-free, or on some sort of health-conscious diet, that there are language schools everywhere in the city, and agreed that it’s nice to be able to blend in with a crowd. It was a lovely conversation, and left me with a light, hopeful feeling. 1/13/17- Friday (Day 2 Mexico City)

I got up early, got dressed and headed out to 7Eleven, where I picked up oatmeal cookies, Pringles, and water. I followed my map, thinking I needed to catch a bus to the Zocalo, but after consulting with a police officer, I discovered I needed to take the metro/underground. Once I located the entrance, it was surprisingly easy to navigate, and armed with a couple more recommendations from Melissa and Eugenio, I was on my way. From there I dropped into la Catedral Metropolitana, which was huge and very impressive. I walked around, viewed a small mass that was taking place, and was surprised to find that they had these beautiful ornate confessionals just out in the open. I mean, I suppose in a Catholic country, nothing is surprising or shameful about needing to see the priest to have your sins forgiven?

Album: Catedral Metropolitana Next, I headed toward el Museo del Templo Mayor which was really remarkable. It is a museum dedicated to showcasing the ruins of el Templo Mayor, one of the main temples of the Aztecs in their capital city of Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City). Part of what makes it so incredible, is that many of the architectural ruins were discovered just recently (within the past 25 years), lying essentially underneath the main square. They were hidden beneath the cathedral, as the Spanish destroyed the temple in 1521 to make way for it. As much as this makes me want to shake my fist in the air and curse the Spanish for robbing native peoples of their culture, I have to wonder if without that, so much would have been recovered, much less maintained. Like maybe it all just would have evolved with the times and been destroyed by people who would take for granted its historical significance. 

One of my favorite parts of the museum was the photos of the archaeologists. Excuse my Nahuatl (Aztec language), but how fucking incredible must that have been for them? Like, imagine what that must have felt like . “We’ve just been living our modern lives up here, never knowing that right under our feet was the remains of an ancient civilization”? I’m a nerd, obviously, but the thought of it makes me feel giddy. 

Album: Museo de Templo Mayor Next up on my list was El Palacio de Bellas Artes, which I set out for, in the hopes that I might see Diego Rivera’s work. But before I could make it there, I stumbled upon el Palacio de Correos de Mexico. Eugenio had recommended it, out of admiration for its history and Spanish Renaissance Revival architecture. It really was something to behold. Maybe if post offices in the States looked like this one, people would reconsider their Stamps.com memberships, or at least, dread visits to the post office less. Album: Palacio Postal 

Anyway, I finally found my way to el Palacio de Bellas Artes, and I wish I could say that it was everything I hoped it would be, but honestly it was a let-down. Had I been able to enter la Sala de Diego Rivera (the Diego Rivera Room), I’m sure I would have given it a 10/10, but for some reason, which was nobody bothered to explain to me, it was closed *grumpy face*. Diego was a notorious philanderer, and a self-important asshole (oops, there goes my Nahuatl again), but his art was irrefutably incredible. Plus, I was really hoping to see it to give me a little context before I went to pay homage to his much more badass wife. Album: Palacio de Bellas Artes 

Oh well, I left with plenty of time to make it to, and fully appreciate La Casa Azul. Or so I thought. Following instructions from Google Maps, I took the metro to another, more rural, neighborhood of the city. I then carefully guided myself to a bus stop, which I quickly noticed had a name that did not match the one on Google Maps. So I sat and waited for a while for the 200 bus, and finally asked a bus driver if I was at the right stop for that route. He told me no, but kindly directed me to a stop a couple of blocks away. This one’s name matched the one on my map, so I was feeling good. 

I waited there for a while. Waited, and waited, until I finally decided to ask another bus driver. This driver, on bus route #20, confirmed with me the route name, and then told me that his bus traveled that route. Well okay. 200, 20, same thing? I was vigilantly checking my map when a tall Mexican man who looked to be about college-aged, with braces, asked me where I was going. I told him, and showed him the map, and told him that I was concerned because none of the stops we were passing matched those on my list. He said that the route I was taking was headed toward the airport, so it might eventually get me where I was trying to go but it would be a long time. At this point, a middle aged woman switched seats to allow me to sit down, and said, “You should rest. It will be a while.” 

So there we were, stuck in traffic, headed toward the airport, and I was getting increasingly nervous that I would not be able to get to the museum at all because it closed at 5:30 and my map kept refreshing to show me growing farther and farther from my destination. The young guy kindly asked the bus driver for some clarification, and discussed my debacle with the middle aged woman who had given me her seat. Pretty soon, an older woman had joined in on the conversation, saying, “There’s no way she’s going to make it over there in time. Look at all this traffic.” So I did my best to mask my disappointment and said, “It’s okay. If I need to, I will get off, and catch a cab back to my hotel. I can go to the museum another time.” 

Just then a businessman verified which neighborhood I was headed toward, confidently said he knew how I could get there, and offered to guide me. The two women, and the younger man all seemed pleased with this outcome, so I trusted their faith in this man and followed him when he got off the bus a couple of stops later. We talked as we walked, and he said that I would need to take a train (above ground) to the metro, and then the metro to the neighborhood where I was headed. He used his metro card to swipe me onto the train, rode with me, and showed me where the metro station was (which honestly, I never would have found because it was in the middle of a street market). 

Once in the station, he asked a metro officer which direction I would need to go, then swiped me in again, stopped for a second to show me where I was headed on the metro map, and walked me to the platform. While on the way, he told me that there is a section of the platform, and therefore the metro itself, that is reserved for women and children. He walked me to the entrance to the section, and said goodbye. Honestly, I wish I knew his address so I could send him chocolates or something, but I don’t even remember his name.   

I caught the metro to Coyoacan, and then put my faith in Google Maps again, to guide me the 15 minutes walking to the museum. And I made it! I got there about 4:15 p.m., and stood in line until about 4:45 p.m. before I was finally let in. The museum is built inside the walls of Frida’s house, so there are sections of it that are set up like an art gallery and sections that are made to look like her house, the way it was when she (and Diego) lived there.   

I loved it. It was so beautiful. My favorite rooms were the ones that showed her house as it once was, and my favorite exhibits were of her clothes. She was a woman who believed in fashion as a statement of who she was and what her values were, and I love that. I also got a kick out of a wall that showcased portraits of her various lovers. For a woman with a disfigured leg (due to a bus accident) and a unibrow, she was sexy as hell, and she knew how to harness and direct that energy toward powerful and revolutionary women and men (ex. Josephine Baker & Leon Trotsky). I also loved her garden, and particularly appreciated a cat resident. Frida was a well-documented animal lover and I thought she would be happy to know that animals were still drawn to her home.   

By the time I made it to the gift shop, it was closed, but I wasn’t worried about it because the Mexican people never let a business opportunity slip by. There were, of course, unofficial vendors out front. So I picked up a new blouse, a Frida doll, and a canvas bag with her image on it. Then I caught a cab (much less stressful that way) back to the apartment. Album: Museo Frida Kahlo 

The cab driver was very social and funny. Turns out that he was from Oaxaca, in the mountains, rather than the city. He talked to me about Trump (this is a theme in my life now) and about political corruption. He also told me that I must go to the beach in Oaxaca, and recommended a couple for me to see. He asked me if I like the beach, and I said, “Of course, I am from California,” and he boasted, “Yes, but in California, the water is cold. In Oaxaca the water is warm.” I asked him if that meant there were a lot of tiburones (sharks) in the water, and he gave me a hearty laugh and said yes, but they tend to hunt in much smaller beaches where the tourists don’t hang out. As someone who was allowed to watch Jaws at an inappropriately young age, this was welcome but only moderately soothing feedback. I went back to El Pan Comido for dinner, and I have to admit, I was relieved to find a different server working there, one who would not immediately recognize me. My food was fantastic, again, and a street musician stopped in and played the Beatles while I ate. It was music I’d grown up on, and he performed it well, so I gave him a big tip. As I walked home I took in all of the fixed gear bike shops, craft brew bars, hipster barbershops, and street food vendors, and I thought about how comfortable this part of the city was to me. It felt like a perfect blend of different parts of my identity: definitively Mexican, but also modern, young, eclectic, and progressive.

*And would you look at that? I’m behind on blogging again. Order (or disorder rather) has been restored to my life.