#or maybe thats especially because i live in texas

[babybratzmaraj]

Fairytale:Lovely Day

Starring: Yourrage as Javion Davis

You as Yourself

Part 2

Summary: Today was the day! You were picked to be your favorite streamers assistant/manager! but when you get there you see that its nothing like sunshine and rainbows.

Warnings: Contains Foulllll language (not much but still, cussing is in it), maybe awkwardness but thats the point!, dual pov so the pov will switch.

A/N: HIIIII!!! its bratz😁 my first series on hea! this is a slowburn but trust, we shall be whores soon! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it♥️ P.S. @megamindsecretlair surprise!!!! P.P.S marshawn is stilll coming, i promiseeee

You scrunched your face looking down at your phone with your best friend of 3 Years, Megan hitting you with the same expression.

“The fuck?! You should be happy like I said! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have and you gone take it!”

Today was the day you got flown out to Dallas, Texas! The beautiful, high-in-rent, ghetto city that everyone loves to go to, party or just to live for a fresh start. You rather stay in your bed and rot but Megan wasn’t finna allow none of that shit, especially when it's your first day on the job.

“Bitch, I’m just sayin’ what if I’m wasting my time? What if he don’t like me?” You threw the question in the air with an irritable look shot back at you, fixing her lips to speak but pushed out an exhausted sigh. “Ho, if you wasn’t a qualified candidate, you WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN PICKED!” she finished harshly making you giggle. “Trust, if that or those mu’fuckas ain't want you, you would not be up at 5 a.m packing, late as fuck I may add, getting ready to fly out.”

She was right, you did not think you were actually picked, that was until he sent your plane ticket confirmation information, it struck you like a big ass semi-truck, panicking since you didn’t prepare, until now.

You closed and zipped your carry-on bag and tossed it on the floor, flopping on your bed that you will miss oh so much, almost grieving it until Megan snapped you back to reality.

“Wanch, if you don’t get your ass outta my face! who knows what the fuck came outta those cheeks.”

You chuckled, reaching near your butt to grab your phone. “Listen, just because I let my food cook and give me all my nutrients, don't mean you gotta hate!.”

“YUCK!” Megan slapped her hand over her mouth, stopping herself from gagging. “Getcha nasty ass off my mu’fuckin’ modernized pager with a beautiful touchscreen.” She spat with disgust, hanging up the phone, you burst into laughter and continued your practiced routine of getting ready.

You checked every spot to make sure you put things in their collective places, leaving no stone unturned. Once completing your examination for the fiftieth time, you grabbed your glasses off of the nightstand and put them on her face, immediately annoyed that they were back dirty after you cleaned them. You didn't have enough time to even attempt to clean them, you had to say your teary-eyed goodbyes and hop in your uncle's truck to take you to the Detroit Airport, getting out of the way of traffic for both the highways and people also trying to reach their flight.

“Oh my baby girl, leaving me to go to that state,” Your tete wailed, swinging her arms around before wrapping them around you, squeezing you tightly as your other two cousins joined the group hug.

“If Yall don’t get yall grown asses off that lil girl? Y’all killing her softly.”

“Yeah!” you agreed with your uncle, “And one of yall grabbed my back titty, so when I come back, all’s y’all’s getting yall backs kneaded.”

You stepped out of the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport to the Texas heat smacking you in the face, already regretting flying out here, but it wasn’t your dime that got you out here on, you can’t look bad on your first day, you just got the mothafucka!

As you step further into the hell-like heat, a black SUV swerves in front of you, coming to a full stop. A short stuffy man popped out of the driver seat and crossed around the car with a smile plastered on his face.

“Yous the new assistant?” The man asked, shoving his hands out of his pockets to greet you.

“I am,” You accepted his greeting, ignoring how sweaty his hands were, ready to dip your hand in a pool full of mini sharks, which you now remembered was Prinahs. You were so caught up in correcting yourself, that you didn't notice he already put your carry-on in the trunk of the SUV. “Ma’am? We gotta dip before we won’t have a decent arrival time.”

You hurried yourself into the back of the SUV, feeling relieved that he had the air on, it was hotter than a mothafucka in Dallas! 81 degrees hot in Dallas.

Even though your southern roots grew strong, you came from the mitten state, Michigan. Home of the Buffs, Coney Dogs, and the most unique sound nobody can copy, but it was always cold as fuck. You hated the cold, the snow, the sneaky black ice that could sneak attack you and turn you into a medlife subscriber, you always complained but you knew you were never going to leave, until today, which you still couldn’t believe on the way to your new job.

You watched in awe as you saw the big freeways and highways as you flew down the interstate, seeing all the big tall buildings and seeing all different kinds of cars flying by, it almost distracted you from the knots and flips and shit that was happening inside your stomach.

“What made you want to apply to be Jay’s assistant?” The man spoke, waking you from your fear-induced trance.

“I got the random urge to apply, my best friend would literally sell me to the cartel if I passed up this opportunity.” you laughed, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

He nodded, taking an exit off the highway onto a regular street. “The name’s G by the way, Jay’s uncle.”

Uncle? You’ve been watching his streams and youtube videos, even his Instagram story when he posts little shit. You had never seen or heard of this uncle, and you almost felt betrayed by this new information.

He chuckled at reading your face which showed you didn’t know this man from a can of paint. “He protects the people who wants protection, one thing I appreciate best from him.” G smiled as he continued to express his deep gratitude.

You two talked some more, unaware that you were just now pulling into the secluded driveway, anxiety quickly eating you up to the point you felt like you were going to throw up. You wiped the sweat off of your hands on the seat in front of you as you whipped your phone out of your pocket, swiping till you saw ‘Bestie Miss Westie’ contact. Connecting the call to your AirPods you looked out of the window as you enjoyed the lovely scene of a front yard he had, grass freshly cut, the bushes trimmed down to waist level, the flowers complementing the house very well.

“If you callin’ because you missed your plane, I’m- who car you in,” she spoke but quickly changed when she saw the dark blue roof above you.

“I’m almost at the house, finna shabooya my tinks.” you confessed, removing one airpod as your best friend cackled loudly in your eardrum.

You two had code names for phrases, others may think you two were weird but it's simple because bitches are nosey, ‘shabooya my tinks’ translate into ‘I’m finna shit myself’

“Bitch if you shit yourself before you meet him you will foreva be called shitty booty by me.” she laughed as you tried your best not to pull out one of your many laughs.

The SUV stopped and the rumble of the truck shook still, signaling that we were here. G gave you a look to signal you to open your door, almost having an accident when a nice dark-skinned woman smiled a Steve Harvey smile.

“Lemme call you back.” You whispered, hanging up the phone as the lady popped open the door.

“Sorry honey! I’m just so happy to meet my new friend!.” she exclaimed, holding out her hand to help you out of the SUV. You popped out of the SUV and were pulled into a big hug by her, getting the wind squeezed out of you. ‘I feel at home already.’ you thought when you heard G shout from the side of you,

“Let go of that girl! we just hired her, Shanae.”

Shanae is Javion's assistant/manager, whose place you’ll be taking while she goes on maternity leave, but luckily she won’t be leaving just yet, she’ll be training you until her little one breaks her water. Jay wanted her to be on leave now but it would have been too cruel to leave you with no tutorial, so she stayed.

“Shut up Gerald!” she hushed him as he brought your luggage around to you two, holding his heart like he was just betrayed.

“I ain't even did shit, you see how I get treated?” he scoffed as you three laughed, walking towards the front door.

Walking into the house, the cold breeze hit you dead in your face, cooling you off in an instant. You threw up your index finger, telling them to wait on you as your body readjusted to the drastic change in temperature.

When you cooled down enough, you opened your eyes to the rest of them in the dining room, waiting for you to stop being weird and join them.

You sped walked to the dining room table and there he was. Javion Davis, leaning on the wooden chair staring military knives through you because daggers wouldn’t be the word to describe it.

His hair was a mess as he just hopped out of bed for this meeting, his eyes hanging low confirmed it. His body was sculpted perfectly, his lips pouted and juicy enough to kiss, his abs protruding through his tight white t-shirt, and his dad pajama pants sagged just right so you saw his Rick and Morty Ethika boxers, he looked so much sexier in person.

You brushed your thoughts out of your head and sat across from him, taking off your Nipsey Hussle bomber jacket and tucked it behind you, leaving you in your black shirt and naked arms.

They greeted you again with open arms while Javion kept it cold and short, spoke in short words and sounds like ‘hm’, ‘yeah’, and ‘fine with me’.

When the meeting finished, he walked out of the dining room ignoring your attempts to get to know him. “Ignore him honey,” Shanae reassured, handing you a glass of peach tea with ice cubes in it.

“You didn’t have to love, I coulda got my cup.”

“Baby I know you shy, I could tell by your body language.” She spoke

“Is it that obvious?”

“Deadly. You can stay comfortably shy as you please around me, I used to be exactly like you.” she reminisced thinking about when she was first starting.

True she was his friend since high school, but a whole new position other than one of his main viewers? Scared her shitless, but she got used to it as she was a natural at being a manager.

She told stories of how crazy this job can get but how she would never trade it for anything in the world and other stories from her childhood and how she met Jay, turns out y’all had a lot in common than you thought, feeling more at ease with the future of this job. She led you to the room you would be staying at with your bags already placed on the bed along with a note from Gerald.

‘Good luck suga, if you need me I'll be here,’ with a sorry excuse of an arrow pointing to his number below. You thought it was a nice gesture so you tucked the note into your pocket and whipped out your phone. “You need anything?” Shanae asked, waddling inside the room.

“I should be ok, thanks anyway.” you politely declined her offer. You didn’t want a pregnant woman to do a lot of unnecessary movements, you’d feel guilty having a pregnant lady do manual labor even when she says it's no problem.

“Okay sweetheart, and don’t worry about Javiontaion, he a asshole but he means well. Enjoy your room!” she finished, closing the door behind her.

“Why the fuck do I need a new assistant? My current one is perfectly fine.” he tossed the question towards his uncle, taking one last puff out of his blunt before putting it out.

“Boy, for someone who swear they nonchalant, you give too much of a fuck.” he shot back, leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Unc, I don’t know this bi-” he started but quickly corrected himself. He rubbed his hand down his face, rubbing them together before resting his elbows on his legs.

“I don’t know lil ma from a lick of shit, my assistant is fine for right now.”

“Keyword, right now.” she chimed in, pushing the door open a little. “What happens when my water breaks? Who is going to keep you level-headed? Handle your financial situations and shit? Make sure you make your meeting on time? You can’t even remember to wash the damn dishes!”

He sighed an irked sigh wishing he didn’t have to have this conversation for the millionth time before you came here. You weren’t the problem, he just didn’t trust people well, especially being this close to him and all in his business, for all he knows you just tryna rob him blind and dip, Hell, even sending you the information to get down here was a hassle!

“Y’all know how I am, I can’t warm up to shorty as fast as y’all want me to.”

“We planned this 5 months ago nigga, Im finna bust at any given moment.”

“Not to mention,” G chimed in, “If she was like that, I would have not brought her ass here, to the place you lay yo head at.” and he wasn’t lying. G always had a knack for feeling bad vibes from someone, it's how he was able to sniff out a few of his friends who were just using him and his kindness.

He sat there staring at the ground still thinking how he was going to warm up to you, he didn’t want to but for the sake of everyone else, he was going to attempt.

“Fine, but don’t think Peter Pan finna sprinkle his magic dust and imma love her ass overnight.” he gave in, earning a squeal from Shanae.

“I’m telling you, he does not like me, Meggie.” You sighed laying on the purple blanket, feeling her stress seep into the bed.

“What now?! what told you he dont like yo ass.”

“He literally only spoke in baby dick words.” You pointed out, “No full sentences, no actual greeting, not even an eye roll or a smack of the teeth. Ian get SHIT.”

“Baby, you are a stranger in his house. I know you want someone to like you offrip, but for some people that just ain’t possible.” she said motherly, popping a Reese into her mouth. “He gone warm up to you, but you gotta be patient, which won't be a problem since you so damn shy.” she giggled, making you jerk your head back.

“Wanch!” you chuckled at her sneaky drag, “Why can’t we have one good conversation?”

“Because when are we normal?” she made known, you both just laughing y'all little hearts away, It was never a dull moment with your bestie and somehow you just felt like she was going be your sane person on this adventure.

[sleepatterns]

we really dont know what to do. we’ve been trying to understand why exactly we are like this, but the bigger struggle is trying to figure out how to fix that. long ass fucking rant below. i think we’ve said this before but wow writing things does help us process our emotions and feel slightly better

the not doing well alone thing has been gradually getting worse over a few years. the isolation we endured living with our grandparents really fucked us up a lot. years before we left we started noticing a decrease in how long we could handle being alone after we started being allowed to go more places, and especially after we could drive. after we left it got so much fucking worse at a much quicker pace. we have absolutely no fucking clue what to do about it. especially with how hard it makes it to sleep. we start to feel so restless and panicked. it fills us with such a huge amount of dread and anxiety and paranoia, its so difficult for us to handle in many ways. typically in texas we either stay awake until it feels literally impossible to keep our eyes open or get max to front. he seems to be able to handle it better, is actually able to go to sleep, and is the main person who fronts when in texas at this point. however right before we left texas he seemed to be struggling more with that too. mostly because of delusions.

speaking of delusions, we are very hesitant to call them that. we aren’t exactly sure what else to call it, though. if there is a better term for whatever the hell we are experiencing i would love to know it. whatever it is, thats been getting worse too. part of the reason we are hesitant to call it delusions is because we are aware they happen. not necessarily in the moment, however there are times where we think “this has happened before and it wasnt real and logically this could not be possible��� but it still FEELS like it is, despite any attempt at reasoning to ourselves that its not. sometimes it makes us wonder we are even actually a system or if thats just another result of whats causing the delusions or whatever the fuck they are. i supposed there could be more constant delusions that we are unaware of, tho im not sure. they do seem to be worse when we are by ourselves, which does not help our fear of being alone at all.

thinking about this more further convinces us that we probably need to be medicated or at the very least get more intensive therapy (honestly probably both). another slight issue though is that there are a few of us who do not want to be medicated and it is very hard to convince then that it would probably help.

our therapist did say it was expected that we would develop new trauma responses and maybe get worse in some ways as we are now in a place that allows us to properly process the trauma, and we are no longer in survival mode constantly. but holy shit we did not expect this.

its really difficult to not be hard on ourselves about all of this. every time we open up about anything the thought “youre just making excuses for your behavior” slaps us in the face and makes us feel awful because that is absolutely not what we are trying to do. our goal is hoping that our perspective is more understood by whoever we are talking to, and that they are aware that we are aware that we are kinda fucked up and are actively trying to figure out how to unfuck ourselves (albeit, pretty fucking slowly and with varied results).

its also hard for us to overcome trust issues with stuff, such as believing that what people are saying is actually what they mean. thanks for that, grandma. despite KNOWING that whatever the person is saying may be truthful, well meaning, positive, or whatever our brain never fails to try and twist it to be like “wow they just basically said they hate you and never wanna see you again”. its something we are very aware of and try to ignore but its so hard to not have those thoughts

our grandparents should rot in hell we would probably be less miserable if it wasnt for those fuckers. it feels like we are constantly paying for the mistakes of others and are trying to fix something that we dont fully understand or know how to fix

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I was talking to Juju last night. I got another full circle moment for ya.

So we know the Lucy of it all if gonna be revealed and has to contribute to relationship decisions being made. But what if…

Big fight. Taylor finds out. Makes a scene cause she’s angry and says not nice things to Buck in front of Lucy and others.

The dust settles. Taylor’s gone. And they are all just standing there and Lucy says “wow that’s not the way you talk to someone you love.”

And we’ll have another moment where Lucy’s words or experiences are used to show Buck what he needs to do…

Sabrina!!

Good to have you in my inbox as always!!

I think we were all talking to Juju last night - I chatted with @loveyourownsmiilee a fair bit as well - especially about the grey shirt repeat of it all!

I am very much in the Lucy reveal leads to a big showdown club. I'm intrigued by the idea of it being in front of Lucy and her making a comment on it ngl. How that could play out - not sure. theres a part of me that actually would enjoy Buck and Lucy reaching a point where they can 'joke' about the kiss and what a mistake it was but also for Lucy to not be aware that Taylor doesn't know - make a comment when they meet but for Taylor to have to remain civil because of it being in a professional environment (May Day at the dispatch fire is my preference). Then Taylor has it out with Buck at the loft - because there is a reason we've barely seen her elsewhere this season and I just feel that become so symbolic of everything that is wrong with the relationship and how much they're trying to force something that doesn't work (open plan living not a good thing for two people who are in a relationship for the wrong reasons and thus cannot get any space from each other!!). it will be all 'we said no more lies' etc etc and Buck will come back with 'yo said you didn't want to know etc etc' and we'll end up with this stalemate which I think will spill over into Hero Complex - maybe they agree to give each other some space for a couple of days because Buck will be looking after Chris while Eddies in Texas and Taylor knows about it - wasn't happy intially but is now grateful for the space it will give them while they 'work through it'

I can see Buck going into work the next day and telling the fire fam about this row that they had - Maybe Lucy corners him somewhere a bit later, I'm not sure, but - then yes she makes a comment like you said 'thats not how you treat someone you love' - and it can be taken both ways - both Buck and Taylor can be at fault Taylor for whatever she's done (because bonus points if she goes all ethical conflict!!) and said, and Buck because he hadn't been fully upfront with Taylor etc. And if Lucy then makes some comment about it not being heroic to stay in a relationship thats not working or 'sparking joy' that they can be complex but it shouldn't feel like you have to put in that much work - with some of her own experience thrown in - then we're really going to see the good stuff!

Because all of this has to happen while Eddie is in Texas - I truly believe that the break up has to happen before Eddie is back (at the end of 5x17) so that it can build into the idea of starting over and the parallel of both Buck and Eddie dealing with the big (relevant) thing in their life at the same time would be wonderful!

What do you think? I think we're all onto something!

[worstloki]

okay so on the idea that the nine realms is the america of space:

- everyone knows what’s going on there all the time because word gets out on every major event but everyone outside the nine is just a spectator at this point so people be eyeing the crazy stuff going on there but everyone also just moves on with their day

- this results in midgard and asgard being the star attractions where midgard is like the generation of younger activists fighting the system but its also florida with a few people doing crazy things while meanwhile asgard is the governing political mess (re: the other realms are just chilling. maybe they’re michigan or minnesota or every state that just exists and doesn’t get much attention? jotunheim can totally be texas though because its got its own personality but also gets stereotyped.) 

- “so one of the weapon rich kids on Terra went through a life changing field trip and now he’s made himself a fully operational suit of armour and claims to be defending the planet” “with their noob tech? really?? they don’t even stand a chance against anything in the rest of their own galaxy--” “no no no he’s defending the planet and establishing peace... only within the populations on Terra” “aww that’s so cute” “i know!”

- space has all the gossip which means they know all the messed up stuff going on within the nine realms and everyone in space is kinda detached and not a part of it so its like a tragic-comedy reality show that people like to keep up with

- “so odin is pretending his new son is actually his firstborn now... and also banned talking about the whole history of being built on colonialism and also no one is ever allowed to mention his executioner daughter’’ “huh, weird”

- “odin totally stashed the tesseract on Terra to keep it safe” “why are you telling me this” “I was just thinking about how funny it’d be if those short-lived humans found it one day” “you’re not going to go find it for yourself? it’d sell for loads of credits...” “nah dude i’m not risking stepping into the pit of despair that is that dark dark section of the universe”

- “there are rumours he stole the jotunheim king's kid and is raising him as an asgardian” “does the kid know?” “the father sure doesn't he thinks the baby was killed” “no wonder laufeys been going a bit off the edge recently” “i’m feeling worse for the poor kid stuck with odin now”

- “hey so that Terra hero Quill was always going on about? he’s been found and recently unfrozen apparently” “dont lie to me - humans don’t live that long” “that’s just what I heard i swear”

- “odin used another realm as a time out dumping ground” “which one now?” “the second one, and midgard this time” “at least midgard isn’t filled with the souls of the dishonorable dead?” “well it was his favourite kid, so, ya know,” “ah yes, blatant nepotism, thou art a villain” 

-  “odin did--” “oh $#!^ what'd the old man do NOW” “well you know the stolen jotun kid? odin didn’t tell him he was a different species” “oh WOW that’s messed up” “oh yeah definitely. so anyways he tried to kill himsel-” “that place still has systematic racism in place and his other son has been pushing for violence since he was a kid so...  what’d the old fart THINK would happen?” “beats me”

-  everybody KNOWS what’s going on around there but no one wants to get stuck in that mess so they leave it alone and don't prod the nine realms with a ten foot pole if they can help it hence the negative connotations of midgard especially in gotg and captain marvel 

-  thanos can be colonial britain or something idk how history works but lets assume he thinks it’s prime time to go to planets and just kill some people and take their stuff for his own cause and also Sanctuary has 0 natural spices other than a pinch of salt okay

-  ''i heard odin’s stolen kid, loki i think his name was? yeah I heard he finally got a ticket out of the nine realms'' ''good for him'' ''he landed with thanos though...'' ''well, $#!^”

- “Terra’s got a little band of protectors now” “yes I heard they took down Loki” “which would’ve been such a cool thing to watch honestly I mean a master of magic vs those cute little human beans” “nah he was totally faked it. I heard the guy didn’t even want to attack the place but thanos didn’t give him another out and wanted a native to speak for him.” “so he was playing thanos? oh boy that aint gonna end well” “but he also got the mind stone away from thanos so...” “the icon really just did that?? ayyy I stan 1 prince of asgard” 

- “so I heard Terra’s hero band really just broke up because of some signature dispute” “I thought they don’t have a centralised government system yet though?” “there’s some subgoverning system that’s got most of the planet agreeing” “thats wild” “yeah so anyways there are still 2 stones there but now there’s no team to keep them safe” “oh yikes do you think we should try and assist or something in case thanos sends a retrieval party or something?” “I mean we probably should but I’m not doing it” “can’t they send Cap Marvel in? she’s from Terra aint she?” “yeah they should send Danvers in”

- “I heard odin finally kicked the bucket” “about time” “yeah but also his actual firstborn the one he tried to delete is back now...” “oh darn is loki ok?” “yeah he’s been on sakaar for like a week now just chilling” “good for him” “yeah but hela is totally trying to reinstate all the colonial bull loki was getting rid of as king” “where’s thor at in all this” “i think he accused loki of killing odin right after odin tried to guilt trip him into accepting he was a good father” “oh ew” 

- “hey so they got rid of hela but asgard blew up-” “D:” “-and loki got to do it” “:D” “yeah i thought you’d like that... so do you think we should offer aid? they’re kinda in the way of thanos’ route to midgard” “they’re asgardians” “yeah but its not their fault they were living in asgard” “i’m not going anywhere near the nine realms thanks” “you’re right they’ll probably be fine anyways”

- “hey so... asgard was not fine” “oh no” “he’s heading to earth now for the other stones” “i’m not stepping foot anywhere near there, plus they’ve got their own protectors and all” “dude they broke up years ago remember the signing issues” “that’s still a thing?” “yeah dude it never ended” “wack”

- “i think thanos really is going to succeed and snap half the universe” “well if asgard needed support they could’ve just asked vanaheim or something” “asgard never admits to needing help we already know this” “maybe we should’ve told the other realms to help midgard jů̸̢̠̳͎̳̾̓̉͜st ̷͚͙̯̺̻̦̦̃̓̒̔͜i̴̺̼̗̞̘͖͉̙̾̆̋͂̀̚̚͠n ̷̜̮͚͖́̅̈̌̐͑͛͝ć̵̭͛͛̎͋̀à̷͚̬̩̾̒̅̿̄͆͋s̷̰̖̳̙̠͈̀͊̀ḙ̷͐͑̀̌̉...” “nah Migdard will be fine” “...” “john?” “...” “john?!” “...” “JOHN NOOO!!!” [five years later] “John! You’re back! Dude!! I missed you so much!!” “I told you we should’ve sent a letter or something” “john i love you but i still wouldn’t have risked sending a letter into the nine realms” “that’s fair” 

in conclusion space has all the gossip, and people know stuff is going down there but no one wants to interact with the h*ckhole that the nine realms are, so everyone does their best to just steer clear and keep their hoods on when in the neighborhood.

[himbothomas]

Video Games || 2018 || PT. 1

“Your house is nice.” 

Dean says, mostly to be polite but also cause he means it. Levi scoffs, leading him around the cluttered kitchen island towards the basement steps. His older sister, Sabrina, had already stalked upstairs, but she’d smiled when Dean told her she was a good driver, and had let him pick out which Paramore CD to play. She smelled really good, too, but Dean wasn’t about to risk one of the only friendships he had. And, until yesterday when he asked him to hang out after school today, Levi had been strictly a practice and class friend. They usually had to run laps together for dicking around between drills and usually got detention together for dicking around between classes, but this was different. It’s not like Dean was hurting for friends-everyone liked him and he and most of the other 11th graders on the football team hung out together in a big group, but no one has ever invited him over to their house. Just him. 

And Levi. Dean really likes Levi. Really likes him. He, Dean notices as they settle on the well worn couch, also smells really good. 

Shit. Fuck. Dean stops just short of shaking himself. He-well he wasn’t gay. He likes girls. But he also likes…Levi. It’s stupid and Dean knows it-the best thing that could come out of acting on those sorts of feelings is getting completely ostrichized. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up hospitalized, for that matter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. Or think about him before he falls asleep. Or purposefully get detention for the third time in a week so they could keep hanging out. Levi settles next to him, and it’s not weird for Dean to look, so he does. Curly black hair and eyes that were green in the right light. A tan that was half freckles and a quarter Puerto Rico and a smile that keeps Dean up at night, one he returns easily. 

“Oh.” Levi says, standing again to grab the Xbox controllers. Dean tries not to look at his ass but it’s right there. Maybe he just likes nice asses. That’s not that weird. 

Levi hands him the controller and continues to fuck with his Xbox. 

“Madden or call of duty?” 

Dean scoffs “You think after finally being done with football season, I wanna play football on screen?”

“So you suck at Madden?” Levi responds, booting up the game and laughing when Dean flips him off. 

“No I’m just trying to be a good guest-“

“You just flipped me the bird-“

“I don’t think it’s polite to kick your host’s ass within 20 minutes of arrival.”

“Whatever.” Levi says, sitting back on the couch and closer to Dean. It’s just because he has wired controllers and doesn’t want to stretch the cord out. Dean has to stop from physically yelping when their knees touch. He shifts away. Levi, for his part, is texting. 

“My mom says you can eat dinner with us if you want.”

The thought of processed food not from the organic grocery store is even more attractive than his friend or his sister. 

“Oh cool. Sure, thanks.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna ask your parents?”

“Do they still hold your hand when you cross the street, little boy?”

“Fuck off. “Levi shoves him and Dean laughs

“Nah I don’t have to do shit. My mom doesn’t care about me and Kenny forgets my name once football is over.”

“Oh shut up, sad sack your mom cares about you.” Levi rolls his eyes and picks the Dallas Cowboys as his team. Dean let’s him and picks the Patriots simply because-

“Why the fuck did you pick the worst team to ever fucking exist?”

“I figured if you’re gonna insist that I kick your ass I might as well break your spirit too.”

Levi shoves him again and Dean’s mission is accomplished. “Bastard.”

“Yeah, technically.”

Levi rolls his eyes again and they start to play. When Levi is down 40 points, Dean speaks. 

“She really doesn’t care though. My mom. Which is cool most of the time cause I can do whatever I want,  but last year she forgot about my birthday until it was 6 weeks later.” 

Levi turns his head to look at him.  “Oh you’re not kidding, are you?”

“Why do you think she bought me a car before I could drive?”

He’d failed his test twice at this point but that didn’t matter. 

“That’s uh…pretty fucked, man.”

Dean shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m just wall decor unless there’s football talk or she needs to prove to someone she was once liberal enough to fuck a black guy.” Levi chokes a little on the Gatorade he's drinking.

 “Jesus.”

“Nah, his name is Rodney.”

“Do you see him ever?” Levi asks. Something about the genuine curiosity in his voice is so nice that Dean lets him get a first down. 

“Ha!” 

“Nah. He took off when I was like…4? 5? And then we lived with my grandparents for a bit, which was cool. My grandpa was fucking awesome. But he died when I was like, 9 and mom was already with Kenny at that point so I never felt like I could ask about my dad.”

“You ever wanna meet him?”

Usually people express some sort of false sympathy for him, but Levi is too focused on making passes Dean is letting slide.

 “Oh I did. Last Christmas. We met at Waffle House.  He asked me for money.”

“What?!” Levi pauses the game and stares at him. “Whatd you do?”

Dean shrugs.  “I had like $50 on me so I uh…gave it to him.”

The tips of his ears burn with shame and he looks away, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“Jesus I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to like-Thats some tough shit, Deanie.” 

Levi had been the first to call him that. Dean has been pretending for almost two and a half years that it didn’t make his heart race. 

“It’s ok. Really. It sort of…I know now. It sucks but I can’t do a whole lot about it.”

Levi sighs. “Yeah but I shouldn’t have, like,  forced you to tell me.” 

“You didn’t.” Dean says easily. “It was actually nice to tell someone that.”

“Thomas.”

“Sanchez.”

“You’ve never told anyone that before?” No one’s eyes have any business looking that pretty when they’re sad. Especially Levi’s. Dean shrugs again, his voice a little lower.

 “My mom doesn’t even know I met him. She’d just get pissed at me anyway so like…” he shrugs again. He feels Levi’s eyes on him and it makes his stomach tighten. “Do you wanna get back to the game or is therapy Levi still happening?”

“Stop being an asshole. That’s…so much, dude.”

“Yeah, a real winner runs through my DNA. Glad I kept his name.”

Levi groans. “You make me feel like a dick for being unhappy here.”

“You are a dick. Your mom lets you have video games and a whole basement that I’m guessing you decorated unless she’s a Kate Upton fan.” 

Levi snorts. “I don’t entirely feel bad for you and your step dad’s fucking fortune and mansion.”

Dean doesn’t say anything because he knows Levi is right. “I dunno man, I’d give it all up for there to be bacon in the house.”

“What?!”

They keep talking as they play the game. Levi asks questions that are direct without prying. Dean tries to ask them back. He is shortly losing by 70 points. When the cowboys win, he does his best to demand a rematch, which, really, means he gets to keep talking to Levi. 

“So-“ Levi says. “I think it’s only fair since you told me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine.” 

Dean snorts. “This isn’t a friendship based on transactions you weirdo.” 

“Right, yeah. Then I’m gonna be super narcissistic and make it about me.” Dean laughs at this and it’s  his turn to pause the game. 

“You uh, told me all that stuff because why?” Levi’s voice is different. Less confidence. Dean slowly realizes he’s nervous.

“I trust you.” Dean says, realizing he does as he says it. 

“You do?”

“Should I not? Are you as shitty at keeping secrets as you are at realizing things?”

When Levi doesn’t laugh, Dean puts his controller down fully and turns to him. “Dude are you ok?”

“Yeah I  uh-so what I told you before was a secret isn’t exactly secret it’s just…something I wanna ask about to see if it’s uh, normal.”

Something small and evil like a shred of hope crawls into Dean's stomach. 

“Even if it’s not, Levi, I wouldnt you know, treat you differently for it.”

Levi scoffs again and Dean frowns. “What? I mean it. Have you ever known me to like, you know, judge people or whatever?”

Levi considers this and, as he strokes his thumb slowly up and down his index finger, his voice relaxes.  “No. I guess I haven’t. You’re even nice to Dan-Danielle Stevens.”

Danielle was openly trans and braver than anyone else Dean knew.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We live in Texas.”

“And I’m Black. And from Wisconsin.” 

Levi laughs. “Two things I always say about you.”

Dean can’t help himself.  “You talk about me a lot?”

He could be mistaken, but some of Levi’s freckles darken. “That’s not-do you want me to tell you the question or not?”

“Ask me the question, Leev.” Dean says, hoping he’s right. 

Levi takes a breath. They’re facing each other on the couch now, controllers as abandoned as their math homework. 

“I was just uh, you know, wondering if you-or if it’s normal or whatever... to think what it’d be like to you know…kiss another guy or something.”

All the blood leaves Dean’s upper body and rushes south. 

“I think that’s normal.” Dean says, hoping he didn’t pause too long or answer too eagerly. “I mean it’s 2018, you know. Like all that gay shit is way more accepted so like, we see it more and maybe it sparks some inspiration or something.” 

“Right. Ok. Yeah. Like when you see an ad for something a bunch of times and then you finally buy it. “ 

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Curiosity isn’t bad unless you’re a cat or like, a guy who defuses bombs.”

Levi laughs and moves a bit closer. 

 “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“You’re getting really close to your allotted time slot being up but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I hate you.” Levi says, his smile directed just at Dean is too much to handle. 

“Have you ever thought about-”

Before Levi finishes, Dean closes the distance between them, stretching out on the couch and very carefully and purposefully placing his lips on Levi’s. 

And its right. It’s so right Dean almost feels bad for being so ashamed of all the times he’s thought about it. 

Levi pulls away just slightly and when his thumb comes up to trace Dean’s cheekbone, that evil shred of hope doubles in size. 

They stay like that for an hour, getting bolder and more confident with each kiss, their hands firmly on each other’s. When his mom comes home with the smell of pizza lingering with her and calls down the stairs, they pull apart. Without speaking, Dean knows they’re not going to talk about it, but he can’t even bring himself to care-everything he’d been fantasizing about was so much better in practice. Even if Levi never wants to see him again-

“You wanna come over again tomorrow?” Levi says, clearing his throat. His hand covers Dean’s on the couch and gives him a squeeze. 

Dean’s fate is sealed before he can even finish saying “Sure.”

[henrylevesconte]

People really see others from southern-central states that are going through an unprecedented weather event they are not accustomed to, nor have the infrastructure or knowledge of how to cope with, as well as, a system designed by conservative greed to fuck them over, and really just use it as an excuse to do what we’ve always known about many of the northern states in this country which is to hate the south. It’s not anarcho-communist of you to look at a people suffering, especially poor poc, and say “haha ive been in -69420 degrees and no one asked for my venmo.” You just hate southerners, be honest with yourself. Right now the town I lived in in Texas is out of water, and almost everyone there is without power. You cannot tell me it’s cruel to say that everyone deserves this because they live in Texas. Currently I live a part of the country thats very cold during the winter but my place is designed for it, the power companies here anticipate the cold every year, I know what to do in the event of my pipes freezing. During the arctic storm I only lost power for maybe a minute. You should really reflect on what you have to say before commenting on a post showing what people who are not accustomed to this are going through

[fuck-customers]

Holy Shit Buckle Up Y'all

(TW: mentions of transphobia, racism, and self-harm)

A little backstory:

In November we hired three new people to help with our workload around the holidays, and we've kept them on. Two of them are very hard workers, have great personalities, and nice work ethics. The third, who I will be referring to as J.....does not.

She constantly asks to switch shifts instead of putting in for time off or changing her availability (said that its "inconvenient" for her to change it), if you're even a minute late to covering register for her when she's supposed to get off, she'll just abandon the register and clock out and then shop for thirty minutes, and she is constantly walking away from her post bc she's "bored" and "doesn't feel like working" when there are literally people in line.

So about two weeks ago, she scheduled for five days off. Sweet, shes learning. She then proceeds to call off the day before her five days and the day after. So now she has a week off. Dick move, but I can't say no one has done it before.

Her scheduled day back is a Wednesday. She texts one of my coworkers, P, and asks her to take her shifts for Wednesday AND Thursday. P agrees because she wants more hours, but all of us, including the managers, are irritated now. This is now nine days off she's gotten.

On Wednesday, I got a text from her asking if I could take her shift Friday. Now as of this point, I've been sick all week - hacking my lungs out, not able to breathe, but working bc we're short staffed (bc of her) and bc I need the money. I had Friday and Saturday off for the first time in MONTHS so no way in hell was I gonna take it. I just said no, firmly.

She continues to pester me, asking why, since I don't work Friday I should be able to, etc, and I kind of snapped:

Which, okay, maybe I shouldn't have snapped like that. But I was exhausted and frustrated and so sick of her getting to do this that I just couldn't take it anymore. I expected her to call me a bitch and then ignore me but hoooooo boy nope. (Names are blacked out) (and if this many photos aren't allowed feel free to delete this submission)

First of all, the racism comment:

She was buying cigarettes and even though shes a coworker, I have to ID her bc she's 19 and I can get fired for that shit. She told me she had lost her ID and asked to just put her birthday in. My manager said it was fine, so I did, and I made the offhanded comment about how she should get a new one so she didn't get pulled over by a racist dick while driving. We live in an area where the cops just looovvve to profile people (if you know Ohio, you know where) and I'd had that conversation with so many of my friends that I didn't even think about it, I was just concerned about her getting home safely to her kid. She didn't react negatively at the time, just said "oh I didn't think about that, thanks" and we moved on. If she had really had an issue with it she would have spoken to our managers, so clearly she's only bringing it up now to scare me. I just.....I mean obviously if I am being racist I want someone to tell me so I can fix my actions, but I didn't even think that came off that way in the moment. Maybe I was out of line, but the same thing has happened recently to my 16 year old cousin (he's fine dw) and so its been on my mind.

Second, no, I am not a manager. But aside from four other employees, two of which only work part time, I am one of the oldest members of staff (time wise, not age wise, I'm 23). So the managers put me in charge of a lot of shit, which means that I end up being in charge of people. Which apparently she did not like.

And third no, I do not have a kid. I'm not married, I don't have a partner, and I barely have the income to make half of rent with my roommate sometimes. I would not bring a child into this world if I could help it, and it pissed me off that she would imply that if I had a child, I'd be more mature. I wanted to scream at her and tell her that if having a kid makes you more mature, it clearly didn't work for her. I feel so bad for her kid; he's like two, and she's already constantly using him as an excuse for not doing things and not going to work. She lives with her mom and her boyfriend, so she has a support system (her mom is retired, and a very sweet lady). Like again, I don't have a kid, but all my coworkers who do don't pull this shit ever.

Anyway

I was physically shaking by the end of these texts, crying, because I HATE when people yell at me, especially when they know me IRL. And especially cause she was accusing me of some nasty shit. I sent them all to my manager in the least professional set of texts I'd ever written and then two hours later had to go to work.

My depression was up, my anxiety was through the roof, and as soon as our floater manager asked me if I was okay I burst into tears again. I showed her and the closing manager the texts and they were both appalled but then

They fucking started trying to "comfort" me by making racist comments!!! "Oh, thats just what her people are like" "you know she grew up in the ghetto part of town" "that girl is straight up hood" like!!!!

I was furious. I was so mad it wasn't funny, but they're my MANAGERS and i need this job and they're both old, so they don't think what they're saying is wrong. I tried desperately to derail it by saying things like "where she grew up had nothing to do with it" but they just kept going and I just....that made it so much worse tbh I just walked out of the office to do my fucking job.

A couple hours later, right as I've started to calm down, one of my coworkers started making really transphobic comments about one of our old coworkers who I'm still friends with, deadnaming her, saying that she's allowed to deadname her bc its part of her religion, etc etc.

Y'all I just....walked behind the photo counter and had a fucking meltdown on the floor. I dragged myself to the pharmacy to get their trash so I had SOMETHING to focus on and as soon as I got there the tech took one look at me and held out her arms and I just lost it again.

I go to my manager and basically just ask to do trash and go home. I was supposed to close, and I have left early only once in my life, when we were too dead to need me, but I had just mentally had it. I knew that if I didn't leave in that moment I wasn't going to make it to the end of the night without hurting myself.

She agreed, I finished trash, and got one of my friends to come pick me up.

My GM texts me the next morning (Thursday) and says she's giving me PTO for the hours I didn't work Wednesday night and for my day off on Friday. I almost cried again bc I was so stressed about the money.

Fast forward to a week later, today, and J still has a job, but she has now also called off 16 days in a row. Claiming she's still stuck in Texas with her kid (which was why she was asking to trade shifts last week).

I don't know how much longer my GM can hold out before firing her. I really don't.

Tldr; coworker asks me to take a shift for the hundredth time after calling out for a week, I say no (albeit a bit rudely), they start screaming at me via text, and I have a mental breakdown.

[ca1e70-deactivated]

a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years. 

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism 

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid. 

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis 

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later 

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best. 

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever. 

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment) 

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH 

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair. 

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going. 

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

[the--blackdahlia]

This Life Chapter 13

Title: This Life Chapter 13

Summary: Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language, violence, character death

AN: Thank you to the lovely @sams-serialkiller-fetish ! The song for this chapter is You Could Be Mine by Guns n’ Roses. And I know Dagon is one of the princes of hell and not Alastair, but the Horsemen are an old fashion group and don’t let women into the club.

Arizona

“Fuck!” Ramiel called out as Abbadon dapped at his wounds with peroxide.

“Quit your whining.” She said, blowing a red curl out of her face. “The less you wiggle around, the faster I can get this done.”

“Those fuckers are dead!” Ramiel called out to the others sitting away from him. “They made me scratch up my bike.”

“Do you think there’s a new relationship brewing between those asshole hunters and that club that shot out Ramiel’s tires?” Alastair asked, taking a beer from Dagon. “Thanks love.”

“I say yes.” Asmodeus said, his feet up on the table as he polished an old pocket watch. His good luck charm. “Why the fuck else would those two be out here?”

“Looking for Sammy.” Azazel said. “And, if they’ve found him, we can find him.”

“And get back at the Hunters.” Lilith added as she rubbed Azazel’s shoulder.

“I don’t care what we do,” Ramiel sucked down the whiskey that was offered to him. “Those fucking Hunters are going to die. All of them. Starting with Dean Winchester.” That’s when the door opened and someone walked in.

“Am I late?” A voice asked.

“Gordon. So good of you to finally join us.” Asmodeus said, looking at his watch before snapping it shut.

“I had to lay low for a little bit. Things are getting a little heated over in Texas.” Gordon explained taking a seat. “I have information that little Sammy is in fact in that new club in California. I’ve heard some whispers.”

“Whispers aren’t good enough.” Azazel said. “We need proof.”

“I can get you proof.” Gordon said. “But I have this that you might be interested in.” He handed over a slightly blurry image that had been printed off at a library. Gordon had been doing some recon on the new club.

And his findings really did interest the princes.

“He’s alive.” Azazel said, passing around the image to everyone. “That bastard is still alive.”

“You know what they say. It’s hard to kill a cockroach.” Abbadon said, seeing the image of John Winchester.

“Then I guess we need to squish him properly.” Ramiel said. “Gather the other members. I think we need to head to California.”

****

California

Dean was passed out on the couch, drool drying on his cheek. Benny had made himself comfy on the floor. The two Hunters didn’t want to go back to their room for the night. They had stayed up talking with John most of the night. Andy had come home early in the morning to John, Dean, and Benny laughing. He didn’t stay to talk to them. Instead, he went upstairs to talk to Sam about the night at the bar and how Meg broke some guy’s nose.

But when Dean woke up in the morning, Sam wasn’t there. Andy was snoring away and John was in the kitchen making coffee. Dean shuffled into the kitchen, stepping over Benny and rubbing his eyes.

“Morning.” John said, pouring some coffee into a cup. “Want some?” Dean nodded. John slid him the cup he had just poured and made himself a new cup.

“When does Sam get up?” Dean asked. John looked at the clock on the stove.

“He should’ve actually already left by now.” John said. Dean choked a little on his coffee. “You okay?”

“Where’s he going?” Dean asked.

“Business.” John said. “He’s really good at this. I wish we could’ve convinced him to stay in the Hunters instead of going to college.” Dean just nodded and sipped on his coffee. “If you’re not going back to Texas right away, I thought that maybe Andy could show you guys around. Maybe you’d like to hang out at the bar.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a bartender.” Dean laughed.

“I’m taking the day off. Damn back is acting up.” John groaned. “But Andy would be happy to have you and Benny around. Especially if we’re going to make a partnership.” Dean nodded. They had talked about it the night before. Dean and Benny were going to have to go back to Texas, and they were going to have to tell the others that John was still alive. But John wanted to stay where he was with the Wayward Sons. He didn’t want to take the reins of the Hunters again.

Benny and Andy came in a little bit later as John and Dean were talking. John nodded at the two of them.

“Morning.” Benny grumbled, going to the coffee pot that still had a little bit left in it.

“Andy, I want you to take Dean and Benny with you to the bar today.” John said. “My back is acting up, so I’m staying home. But I want you to show off to them.”

“Yeah, sure.” Andy said. “I bet Ruby and Meg will love having them around.” John chuckled some.

“We gotta go back to our motel room and change.” Benny said. “I ain’t going near them girls again with the same clothes on.”

“Doesn’t matter. They still have to look at your face.” Dean joked, rinsing out his cup. “Drink up and we’ll head out. I’ve gotta take a piss.” Benny nodded as Dean left.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean and Benny headed back to their motel to clean up and change before they headed to the bar to meet Andy. A bar, Dean’s happy place. Someday he would leave the club and start his own bar. He sometimes wished that’s what John and Bobby had started instead of an auto shop.

****

John enjoyed the house to himself for a couple hours before Sam came home. He had been working a deal for John. He was learning how to be a great negotiator. John was really proud of him, even if he never said anything.

“Hey dad.” Sam said. “Things went good.”

“Fantastic.” John said.

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asked, going to the fridge looking for something to eat.

“Benny and him went to the bar with Andy.” John explained. Sam let the fridge door slam and he flopped down in the living room.

“As good as it is to see him, can he go back already?” Sam asked. John sighed.

“They’ll get bored and head back soon.” John said, looking at the magazine he grabbed off the floor. Sam nodded and let his eyes close.

That’s when the front door burst open and three guys ran in. John and Sam barely had time to react before bullets were flying. Sam cried out as a bullet hit his arm. John grabbed his gun that was laying on the coffee table and fired, hitting one of the guys. But someone came in through the backdoor and pointed his gun right at John’s head.

“Howdy Johnny boy.” Azazel laughed. “God, I didn’t think you’d be going into Heaven, but to still be here on earth? That’s mind blowing.”

“Azazel.” John growled. He didn’t lower his gun.

“Easy.” Azazel said. He motioned for one of the guys to switch places with him. Sam was on the couch, holding his bleeding arm as Azazel walked over and sat down by him. “Hey there Sammy.”

“Leave him alone.” John said. “This argument is between us.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Azazel hissed. “Now, why don’t you lower the gun so we can have a nice little discussion?” Azazel pointed his gun at Sam’s stomach then. One gut shot along with the arm wound and Sam would be dead. John looked between his bleeding son and the man with the gun before he clicked the safety on and lowered his.

“What do you want?” John asked.

“I want to know how you survived the fire.” Azazel said. “My informant told me how you were hiding out in California. It wasn’t that hard to find you once I knew that. You should cover your tracks better.”

“I’ll remember that.” John said. He started to get up, but Azazel clicked the hammer on his gun.

“Sit.” Azazel growled. John sat down again. “It’s rude to get up while we’re having a pleasant conversation.” John glared at him. “Now, tell me. How did you survive?”

“I got out before it caught.” John said. Azazel nodded his head.

“So that other charred body was one of my guys?” He asked. John nodded. “Well, that justifies this then.” He pointed his gun at John and shot, hitting him square in the chest. Sam screamed.

“Dad! No!” He made to get up, but Azazel quickly wrapped his arms around his neck, putting a perfect chokehold on him. Sam struggled to get away.

“Shh, shh. Relax.” Azazel said. “It’s okay. Naptime Sammy.” Sam’s struggles became weaker until he passed out, slumping against Azazel. “Shh, it’s okay.” He petted his hair, smiling some.

“Crowley.” Azazel said, getting on of his goons attention. “Go bring the van around so we can put Sam here in it. And that body.” He pointed over at the dead goon laying on the ground.

“What about him?” Crowley asked, motioning to John.

“Leave him. I don’t care what happens to him now.” Azazel said. “I got what I was after.” Crowley nodded and left to get the van. Things went quickly, even though it took three guys to load Sam in. Azazel and the others got on their bikes, ready to leave. Crowley was the last one out. He looked around at the broken in door, the blood, the chaos.

“I...I guess that’s what we do.” He mumbled to himself. He looked over at John and saw a little bit of chest movement as he sucked in shaky, shallow breaths. He knew he wasn’t going to survive unless something drastic happened. But he doubted that anyone was going to show up in the next twenty minutes or so to save him.

Crowley always carried markers and pens with him in his vest pocket. A lot of times, they would have to write something and he had seen one of the princes stab some poor kids fingers to get blood to write with. So he took to carrying writing utensils to save not only himself, but some of the others from being stabbed. He took one of those makers and wrote Horsemen in big letters on the wall. Because killing John was one thing, but kidnapping Sam was something else entirely.

Crowley ran out of the house then and headed back to Arizona, leaving John there to die.

****

It was later that afternoon when Benny and Dean returned to the house. Dean wanted to have lunch with Sam, and Benny was willing to tag along. They parked their bikes by the porch and Dean saw Sam’s sitting there.

“Good, he’s home.” Dean laughed. Benny smiled and they made their way up the porch when they noticed that the front door was wide open. Reacting, they grabbed their guns from their waistbands and made their way inside. They could smell the metallic tinge of blood. That’s when Dean’s eyes locked on the chair that held his dad’s body.

“Dad!” Dean yelled, running over to him. His head was slumped forward and his shirt was soaked in blood. “Dad!” He shook him, his head just rolling to the side. “Oh god.” He looked around and saw blood on the couch and blood on the carpet. “Sammy?!” Dean called out, but the house was silent.

“Dean.” Benny said, pointing at the wall Crowley had wrote on.

“I’m going to kill them.” Dean growled. “I’m going to kill them all.”

“We need backup on this one.” Benny said. “I’m going to make a couple calls but we will fix this.” Dean nodded and looked back at his dad. He was really dead this time. No smoke and mirrors this time.

But now, Dean was free from prison, and the Horsemen needed to be dealt with, once and for all.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @i-would-die-for-woodland-demars @dekahg @nanie5 @feelmyroarrrr @marvel-af @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tags: @luciathewinchestergirl @sheris532 @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @bella-ca

This Life Tags: @soulslaststand @jamielea81 @caplansteverogers @becs-bunker @supernaturalwincestsblog @colie87

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23

[sabinehqs]

∿° la’s favorite singer / producer has made her appearance at the party. it’s insane how similar she looks to sofia carson. according to celebslam, sabine gutierrez-soto has been given a reputation of being obstreperous, but also candid. the twenty three year old has been living in the city of dreams for four years, i wonder how much longer they’ll last. ( sammie / 25 / est / she/her ).

💕 hi hello! my name is sammie, i’m 25 and i live in the EST timezone! i have a shopping addiction. i read a lot of young adult books (currently in the middle of a curse do dark and lonely by brigid kemmerer). i can’t go a day without listening to little mix & blackpink because they are my girls. i have two kitty cats (sirius and lupin) and a pitbull (nox). if you ever wanna see cute pictures hit me up i got so many of my babies. my discord is joe keery is ruining my life#7229and i’m always on so please shoot me a message! this is sabine.

basics!

faceclaim: sofia carson.

age: twenty three

sexuality: closeted lesbian.

home town: houston texas

favorite color: crimson.

favorite movie: cruel intentions.

favorite food: dark chocolate.

aesthetic: overflowing shot glasses. scabbed knees from falling down.  neon signs. empty champage bottles clinking against each other. fur coats. large sunglasses to hide tired hungover eyes. ashtrays full of burnt roaches. sleeping in just your panties. spotlights. a collection of expensive flasks. blackout curtains on every window. fresh pack of newport 100s. diamond encrusted microphones. sleeping until two pm. hampers full of short black dresses. blood red nails.  

celebrity crush: tessa thompson & rosario dawson

biography!

sabine was born in houston, texas to mateo and luciana gutierrez-soto on october 27th 1995. she is the four of four, three brothers and a sister who passed before sabine was born. after the death of her sister, sabine’s parents decided to come to the united states, hoping to make a better lives for them and their children.

family members who had already come to the united states helped them. sabibe was born just a few months later, the only family member that was born a u.s. citizen. her mother and father found jobs as a maid and construction worker, respectively.

they lived in a poor neighborhood in houston, with many of her neighbors being illegal immigrants like sabine’s family. the people in her community were very close, and sabine being one of the youngest was often treated like everyone’s little sister.

sabine was always putting on a show as a child, rather it was singing at the local talent show (which she always seemed to win) or performing in her elementary school drama production, she seemed to thrive in the spotlight.

but, her family was in poverty and she couldn’t afford singing lessons, so until she was older she got by singing at home. she never really thought anything would come from it.

sabine didn’t do so well in school. sure, she was a social butterfly when she was young. and she made friends easily. but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for sabine to be sent to the office because of excessive talking, and giving attitude. she had her fair share of letters sent home.

sabine was always very close with her family, especially her second oldest brother and her mother. her had always treated her like a princess, and she was her mothers little baby doll.

when sabine was thirteen years old, she came home from school to find the house empty. all their belongings were still there, and dinner was even on the stove. sabine’s neighbors found her on the porch utterly confused. they informed her that ICE had been by and her family had been deported. her whole family. gone.

sabine’s entire world crumbled around her, and she moved in with her aunt and uncle, as her legal guardians. they lived in a much better neighborhood which came with a much better public school for her to attend. she tried to keep her nose down, but her sarcastic and flippant ways just seemed to come to the surface.

sabine began performed more, and people were starting to really listen. she started a youtube channel where she would upload covers and turned out to be very very popular.

when she was a junior in high school, sabine started to get teased for never having a boyfriend. sabine ignored it, but always felt deep down something was different. she had always felt a certain… pull towards girls. and the feeling terrified her so she shoved it down.

she started partying a lot, almost always sipping on a flask. whether it was the pain of her family leaving her, or the butterflies she felt in her tummy when a pretty girl glanced in her direction… she used alcohol and weed as a coping mechanism.

directly after high school, sabine started auditioning for anything and everything. finally on her third try for american idol, she was put through to the live shows. she packed her bags and left, staying in a local hotel (payed for with the money her parents tried to save up for her college tuition). at the age of 20, sabine was crowned winner of american idol in 2017.

sabine’s life has been a whirlwind sense then. she lives in l.a. now and is currently recording her second album. her first album went platinum four months after being released. she is currently working as a producer, while working on her next album.

personality!

obstreperous. good god. okay so when she gets goin’ theres no stopping her. shes loud and wild and always has been. she’s a party girl if you ever did see one. she doesn’t like being told what to do, and if you tell her to calm down you’ll only make things worse.

candid. as honest as they come. she will not sugar coat things. she’s is frank and ‘real’ to a fault. sometimes it makes people keep their distances, but she likes it better that way anyways.

adamantine. oo, girl. she is unbreakable. she’s been through a lot of shit in her life, and it reflects in her. determined and hard working, she worked her ass off to get to where she is, and she isn’t afraid to let you know.

audacious. life of the party. if you make a friend of her, expect the unexpected. rather its crashing a wedding or buying out disney world so you can run the park, she’s always down.

irascible. if you piss her off - run. THATS ALL IM GONNA SAY.

connections!

best friend! male/female/nb 0/1. a girl needs her bestie. someone she can tell everything to. someone she knows will always have her back. she trusts them more than anything.

slightly inferior best friend! male/female/nb 0/1. shes really close with them, the only person she is closer too is her friend or die bestie. they mean a lot to her, but like the title suggests, they are slightly inferior.

childhood friend! male/female/nb 0/2. someone from her home town she was close too.

on again off again toxic relationship! female/nb 0/1. kind of self explanatory. they’re terrible together and its bad for both of them, but for some reason that flame still burns. even though its really painful.

rival! male/female/nb 0/1. someone that sabine thinks of as her rival. rather they be a musician or a fellow producer, they make her skin crawl.

good influence! male/female/nb. 0/2. someone that has a positive influencing on her.

the mom friend! female/male/n/b. 0/1. sabine gets herself in not so good situations, maybe she’s too drunk to take care of herself, or she needs a non judgemental shoulder to cry one. someone to get her out of the gutter every so often.

partner in crime! male/female/nb. 0/1. bring these two together and they’re gonna raise some hell.

sabine’s crush! female/nb 0/1. someone sabine has a crush on. this could be cute or kind of... weird? she doesn’t really know how to act around a crush. but its gotta be all cute. her being all blushy and shit.

i’m open to so many more!

[bugsrepellsgant]

OKIE ive been kicking this au around my brain for months so here’s an outline or whatever

WORKING TITLE: toki and pickles travel cross country to california like kermit and fozzie in the muppet movie OR toki and pickles do america

TL;DR toki and pickles are both 17-ish, the year is 199X, theyre hauling ass to socal to audition for SnB, but instead they accidentally get dethklok together and fall in love :-)

pickles has freshly stepped out and couch surfed his way to greenbay, and just managed to scrape together enough cash for a bus ride to minneapolis (going east to go west is counterintuitive and dumb but so is american public transport) BUT THEN

toki’s one-ish year out of home, has scraped together enough money working for runke to apply for a passport but once he gets to the offices oh no!!! he doesn’t have any proof of citizenship! and he’s a minor! aw fuck now he’s gotta stow away on an oil tanker cus staying isnt an option (yes this is paddington now)

he lands in boston harbor, gets far enough inland on foot and by ferry until he reaches GREEN BAY, WI and he’s a day or two of panhandling away from meeting the ticket fee BUT THEN

its friday night which means its fucking college football night which means SHITTY COLLEGE BROS HAVE DESCENDED UPON THE CITY!

pickles gets briefly needled for being short and ginger but u know he Lives hes been getting this kind of shit forever. HOWEVER toki is immediately singled out as a funny lookin, high voiced, gnome hat weirdo with an accent and he’s trying to laugh along ??? ha ha?? but its so Bad and pickles feels Bad but he’s gotta get outta here-

Oh God one of the bros tried to to take toki’s guitar away and toki flipped shit and its a fight now!! he’s outnumbered but our boy pickles intervenes!!! they’re winning? OH GOD SOMEONE CALLED THE FUCKING COPS

escape! safe; breathless in an alley; “hey whats yooooour name???” “toki!” “heheheheh toke-ki >B-)” “?????” “im pickles” “you namesed pickle???? ‘,:-/“ bla bla bla oh u play guitar? i play drums but i like guitar too there’s a band in LA i wanna play for ya wanna come with???

a car is obtained at... some point

and OH BOY DOES HE!

a long series of shenanigans occur! our boys get stopped, turned around, detoured, misdirected, all kinds of classic farce bullshit, later on we make and pick up friends at pitstops! a fellow highschool dropout with a killer voice in kissimmee, the best guitarist youve heard in your life dodging swedish mandatory service in chicago, a dude with the stankiest bassline (and feet) that side of the mississippi in the texas panhandle, a TOTAL buzzkill geek of a harvard freshman on summering at his family villa near denver, a cool headed, smart as hell, fuckin julliard composer in training who produces music FOR FUN visiting her family in downtown phoenix.

oh my GOD what is seth fucking DOING HERE is that lady his GIRLFRIEND is she PREGNANT what the HELL GO HOME IF YOU TELL MOM WHERE WE ARE ILL KILL YOU DEAD

seth’s also hanging out with this other guy who seems...... cool? you think? fun, talented, good at guitar like both our boys, pickles’ kinda guy to be honest? there’s something about him thats hard to trust though.

sharing hotel rooms, sleeping in truck beds, they get curious about each others lives? pickles clocked toki as a weird hick at first blush, and tbh he was right but? he went to highschool with farm kids and knows farm kid-weird from weird-weird and toki’s WEIRD-weird. and sweet. and funny. the polaroid in toki keeps of a man and a woman, the man in a reverend’s hat, makes pickles scared to ask. especially since toki’s been cool enough to mind his own business.

toki’s fascinated by pickles’ bouts of righteous anger. unlike runke, his rage has energy and intent, and the stunt he pulled in green bay was so nice and so COOL! he’s one such real cool guy with a cool leather jacket and cool hair... but Why is he so mad all the time? why does he drink so much, it doesnt even taste good? why does he STEAL drinks when they have no money? what happened to toki’s nice, cool, brand new friend pickle? something like what happened to toki? but? pickles is so Cool and Nice and NORMAL and toki is so Weird and Stupid and Wrong in ways toki’s horrified to let him discover. its better not to ask him, he guesses.

feelings get stronger as all the bad things come to light. crying hugs are had. pickles drops what was going to be bus money on a replacement V for toki and toki drops his panhandling dough on a goldtop for pickles.

WE FINALLY GET TO LA AND......? what the fuck

the glam/hair scene is dead in the water. Snakes n Barrels supernova’ed. no more audition. no more career. shit shit shit.

but all the friends weve made along the way are here for our boys! they’ll just start their OWN BAND!!!! TAMPA! MORDHAUS! DETHKLOK’S A-GO!! everythings comin up milhouse!

our boys are Officially *an item* and they ride into the sunset together, stirrup to stirrup, side by side. big gay kiss. the end :-)

OTHER THINGS THAT HAPPEN:

amber goes into labor during one of seth’s drop in visits and everyone gets emo about family as a concept, pickles and seth gave a heart to heart, no one is too metal for feelings when the baby comes bc life is beautiful

magnus pulls some scary/mean bs but its nothing too awful and theres forgiveness and lessons learnt and stuff.

the duel! but theres THREE GUITARISTS?????!!!!!!!!!! MAYBE FOUR?

toki and pickles will both have religious drama but pickles’ drama is more of a sidenote in his list of Issues (pickles’ family is probably catholic and i was raised catholic and i GOTTA project. i GOTTA)

lgbt themes because IM GAY and THEYRE GAY PRRRRBBBBT

murderface? finds love?? GAY LOVE???

this post is too long g-g-g’byeeeee!

[trulymadlysydney]

The Boy Next Door

Of all the things she could’ve ordered, it had to be a sex toy.  And of all the people who could’ve been her neighbor, it just had to be coffee shop Harry. 

Helloooo my loves, this is part one of my college AU story!!!  I was going to hold off on posting it, but what can I say? I’m incredibly proud of it and wanted you guys to share my excitement.  This all started as a request from a lovely anon, and my brain took the request and spun it into this huge, long, college AU that I’m so excited and nervous for you guys to read.  Enjoy!!! xx

***PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION**

It isn’t that Nova Leary is shy, necessarily.  It’s just that she’s the type of girl who enjoys keeping to herself and remaining anonymous. 

The fact of the matter is that anonymity feels like a rare thing to have nowadays, living in Los Angeles.  And anonymity is the one thing that Nova seems to cling to above all else.

Having grown up in a small town in North Carolina, she’d never faced the struggles of a Californian until she’d come here for school.  She hadn’t needed spare change to park her car.  She hadn’t needed to purchase a bus pass, because ultimately her car could’ve taken her anywhere with minimal traffic.

But now-- now she struggles to balance 19 credits a semester, because, as her mother would say,  “You’ll never get a good job just by coasting along, Nova Gene. Challenge yourself.” (Her mother, bless her heart, had a PhD in astrophysics-- because of course she did-- so Nova couldn’t help but feel the pressure to measure up her entire life.

So challenging herself was the only option, really.  And it isn’t that Nova minds all that much.  Entering her third semester of grad school, she feels accomplished.  As though she’s achieved more in her 23 years of living than most people her age.  Sure, maybe Los Angeles may not have been her first choice.  But hell, it certainly wasn’t her last.  

Currently she sits at her dining table, one leg tucked up under her and the other dangling so that her toes just loosely graze the wooden floor of her apartment.   She absentmindedly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and types something into her laptop, chewing at the inside of her cheek when the results of her search appear fruitful.

“What are you looking at?”

Nova nearly jumps out of her chair when her roommate’s voice breaks through the silence.  She quickly switches tabs over to her e-mail.  Her inbox hasn’t received anything new since the last time she’d checked it, which had been four minutes ago when she thought Jessie was coming into the room.  For the sixth time. 

“Nothing,” Nova says, dismissively.  “E-mails.  Homework.”

Jessie is 29 and works for a law firm.  Which sounds much cooler than it actually is, Nova thinks.  All Jessie does is answer phones and file paperwork every now and then, and she gets to wear the heels she likes everyday so all in all, no one complains. (Except for the days when Jessie does, in fact, complain about every little thing that goes on in the firm and behind the scenes.  Nova thinks she knows a lot of these people’s stories better than she knows her own, which is saying something.)

Jessie looks at Nova incredulously, and scoffs.  “You cannot possibly have that much homework.”

“I do!” Nova says, pushing her glasses up on her nose and clicking the “compose e-mail” button.  For what reason, she doesn’t know, but it makes her look like she’s doing at least something. 

Jessie groans, clomping in her heels across the hardwood floor and over to the kitchen.  She opens the fridge and bends down, which reveals a little too much of the pink lace she’s wearing under her short dress.  When she straightens up, she’s got a beer in her hand.  “Come on, kid  You’ve gotta have some type of plans for tonight.”

“It’s Thursday.”

Jessie rolls her eyes, rummaging through the nearest drawer until she finds the bottle opener.  “Have you never heard of Thirsty Thursday?”  She takes a huge swig of her beer and hums in delight before holding it out in Nova’s direction.  “You want one?”

“No thanks.”  Nova smiles, because Jessie really is a sweet girl.  She means well.  It’s just that she and Nova are two incredibly different people.  Which works out, really, because 95% of the time, Jessie is gone and Nova gets the apartment to herself.  That isn’t to say Nova doesn’t worry about the older girl, but usually she’ll receive a call or, at the very least, a text from Jessie to let her know what her plan is for the night. 

Nova settles back in her seat.  “Where are you going tonight?”

“It’s Brad’s birthday,” Jessie says, and shoots Nova a look as if she’d rather die.  “We’re going out.” Brad is Jessie’s sort-of-boyfriend, but he’s a dick most of the time.  At least in the whole year and a half that Nova’s known Jessie, she’s hardly ever heard anything about Brad that she likes.  Even when she’d met him in passing, he’d been dismissive and a bit arrogant and altogether unpleasant.  Though, for whatever reason, Jessie’s been on and off with the guy for about four years now.  So Nova figures she has to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“That should be fun!” Nova tries to sound hopeful, and Jessie smiles. 

“I’m hoping so, but we’ll see.  If he invites Steven I swear to God I’m leaving.”

Nova giggles and spends the next few minutes chatting with Jessie about Brad and his awful friends.  Sentences like “you’re too good for him,” and “But Nova, did you see what he surprised me with last weekend?” are all that can be heard, and it’s a lovely distraction for both of them until Jessie’s phone buzzes.

She hops up from where she’s now sitting on the counter and swallows the last bit of her drink.  “That’s my ride.  You sure you don’t wanna come out with us?  We can wait!”

“I’m good,” Nova says, shaking her head.  “You’re sweet though.”

Jessie giggles, walking over to Nova and wrapping her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders.  She leans down and presses a heartfelt kiss into Nova’s hair.  “I love you, kid.  You work too hard.”

“Who, me? Nahhh.”  Nova shakes her head.

Jessie grabs her coat and begins to head for the apartment door.  “Don’t wait up for me, okay?  I’ll be at Brad’s tonight.”

It goes without saying, but it still makes Nova smile that Jessie lets her know.  “Sounds good,” she calls. “Be safe!  Wear protection!”

She hears Jessie scoff as she leaves, and it makes her laugh.  Jessie is a lot of fun to be around, when she is around.  But Nova knows that if she were to ever go out with Jessie and her friends it would be awkward for everyone involved.  Nova’s never been the going out type, and all the friends that she would go out with lived back in North Carolina.

She sighs, placing her hands on the keyboard of the laptop and typing into the blank e-mail.

Note: Make new friends.

Backspace backspace backspace.

Note: Make friends in general.

It isn’t to say that Nova is lonely, however.  In fact, she appreciates her alone time quite a lot.

This reminds her of the task at hand, and her stomach flutters.  Cautiously, as if she’s being watched, she moves the curser back up to the tab she was in prior to Jessie’s departure, and double taps, taking her back to the screen that had made her cheeks redden. 

Row upon row of sex toys fills her screen, and it’s quite overwhelming, really, because how on earth is she supposed to know which one to pick?  She doesn’t want to make the wrong choice and get one thats too big.  And what if she doesn’t like the feeling of something inside of her?  The thought makes her insides flip and her ears grow hot. She groans, clicking the arrow to take her to the next page.

She knows she definitely wants one of these, it’s just a matter of which one she wants. It’s a difficult decision to make, especially because, despite being alone nearly every day she’s never really taken the time to experiment with these types of things. 

That isn’t to say she’s never gotten herself off, of course, but she definitely hasn’t tried any other techniques other than the one she knows.  And now there are several toys in front of her, all different shapes, sizes, textures, colors, (do colors matter?), some of them vibrate, some of them don’t... there are just far too many options for Nova’s liking.

What’s worse, she doesn’t even have anyone to ask about these types of things.  She’s sure that Jessie, more likely than not, has experimented with one, but she could never just outright ask her for tips.  Plus, reading the reviews on every single one of these feels almost invasive, if Nova’s being honest.  Like she’s creeping in on these people’s intimate alone time, as if to compare notes. It’s strange. 

Its 45 minutes and a few squeals and facepalms later that Nova finally thinks she’s found the one.  5/5 stars, not too big. Vibrations are optional, but should she chose to use them, it comes with several different speeds.  Plus the reviews, as strange as it makes her feel to read them, all agreed on one thing-- maximum pleasure with minimal effort.  (Not to mention the one review from a woman in Texas, who’d said that it was her first one and it had worked like magic.)

Nova types in her billing information and the address to which she wants it shipped, praying that it comes on a day when Jessie isn’t home, and when everything is filled out correctly, she inhales as deep as her lungs can take.  She examines her purchase one more time, shocked that this is actually something that she’s doing.  God, her mother would disown her if she knew.

She lets out her breath in one quick puff and closes one eye.  She tilts her head so that she’s not looking directly at the screen, and smashes her finger down on the mouse.  When her laptop takes her to the next screen, she can’t help but shriek when she reads, in bold, bright letters:

Thank you for your purchase! 

It’s a week later and Nova finds herself at the local coffee shop like every college student from the young adult novels she (not so) guiltily reads.  It’s stereotypical, yes, but it’s her favorite place.  They constantly have weird music playing through the speakers and it intrigues her every time she’s come in.  Sometimes they sell EPs of local bands on the counter where you purchase your drink, and Nova usually can’t help herself but to buy one.  She doesn’t always love the music she buys, but she loves the aesthetic of it all, so she continues to take pleasure in feeling like a fake hipster.

Today, the shop is crowded, which makes Nova curse under her breath.  She curses a second time after she’s ordered a her coffee, when she realizes there are no available seats in here.  She frowns, glancing around the room.  When did everyone realize this place existed?  Why are they taking over her little corner of campus?

She’s about to go ask the barista to put her drink in a to-go cup, because maybe she can go sit on the grass outside or something, when they call out her order at the counter.  Fuck.  

She takes it and mutters a thank you, and inside she panics while she scans the room.  She can’t just stand there awkwardly sipping her coffee.  Especially because she has her laptop in her other hand, and she’ll just look silly standing there with it.  But she’s not about to go up to a stranger, for goodness sake.  

She scowls without realizing it, and she hears a chuckle nearby.  She’s about to just chug her coffee and go when she hears a voice.

“You can sit here if you want.”

Nova turns around to find who the voice belongs to, and she relaxes a bit when she notices a somewhat familiar face.

She’s seen this guy around campus a few times, although she doesn’t know his name.   He’s cute.  In fact, Nova would go so far as to say he’s sexy-- although he’s nothing like any of the guys she’s dated previously.  She’s only seen him in passing, but he’s had a smile for her every time. 

He’s got a mess of curly brown hair that doesn’t seem to want to cooperate, with a long, stubborn curl resting on his forehead.  He has a pair of glasses atop his head, and Nova wonders why he isn’t wearing them-- especially because he seems to be squinting at his laptop.  One hand is wrapped loosely around a coffee mug, in which she spies just plain black coffee.  How boring and yet incredibly intriguing. 

Not to mention the deliciously thick british accent that seems fitting, somewhow, and makes Nova’s insides feel warm and fluttery. 

He shoots her a friendly smile and nods his head towards the empty chair across the table from him.  Right.

She sits quickly, setting down her own laptop and coffee mug and shimmying out of her coat.  “Thank you,” she says.  “I didn’t expect this place to be so crowded today.”

“Midterms,” he mutters dismissively, and Nova nods in agreement.

“M’Harry by the way.”

He watches her with amused eyes and it makes her feel small in the best possible way.  She settles her coat on the back of her chair and grins at him.  “I’m Nova.”

His eyes widen at her words.  “No shit! Nova Leary?”

“The one and only.”  She nods, and she doesn’t know how or why this guy knows her name.  “How’d you know?”

“It’s not a very common name, for starters.  But also, Mr. Shuff won’t shut up about you and how great your grades were.”

The statement alarms Nova until she realizes who he’s referring to.  She furrows her eyebrows.  “Rick?”

Harry snorts.  “So you’re on a first name basis with the science professors then.”

Nova rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee.  “No.  Rick taught my favorite class last year.  I asked my counselor if I could take it again because I loved it so much.”

“He says you’re the only one who aced every single one of his exams,” Harry continues.  “Show off.”

Nova shrugs.  “I love science.”

“Apparently so,” Harry chuckles.  He takes a sip of his coffee and turns back to his laptop, and Nova thinks that the conversation is over, so she opens up her own laptop and starts logging in on the home screen.

“So, Nova huh?  That’s a cool name.  Very futuristic of you.”

Nova looks up then, absentmindedly tapping her nails against the keys on the laptop.  “Thanks.  Chose it myself.” 

Harry eyes her for a moment, unsure of how exactly to read her sarcasm, and she rolls her eyes.  “That was a joke.”

He smiles then, seemingly relieved, and laughs softly.  “Oh.  Cool.  So Nova’s your real name then?”

“Yup.”  She takes a sip of her coffee and considers her words carefully.  She knows it’s a unique name, one that Harry’s probably never heard before.  But she doesn’t know if he’s actually interested in hearing the origin story of her name, or if he’s just making polite conversation.

“Where’d it come from?”

“Hm?”

“Your name.  Like, what made your parents name you that?”

Nova feels her cheeks redden, because duh.  Of course that’s what he’d meant.  “You’re gonna make fun of it.”

Harry smirks that damn smirk once again and his fingers trace the rim of his mug.  “Try me.”

“The night that they think I was... conceived...” She says the last word softly, because damn, it feels weird to know the night you were conceived.  “My parents were at a music festival.  They looked up and swore that there was a supernova in the sky.”

Harry leans in, genuinely interested.  “That’s sick.”

It’s Nova’s turn to smirk.  “It was a music festival.  In the 90s.  They were on several drugs.”

“Oh.”  Harry snorts at how blunt-- for lack of a better term-- she is.  He takes another sip of his coffee and speaks into his mug.  “I mean... you never know.  There could’ve been a supernova.”

“There wasn’t.”

“And how would you know?  Were you there?”

“Technically yes.”  Harry nearly chokes on his drink and Nova beams.  “Besides.  The last supernova was in 1604.”

“Wow.”  Harry finally relaxes into his chair.  “Pretty and smart.”

“Comes with the name,” she says, matter-of-factly.  “When you’re named after a type of star, you kind of have to know your stuff.”

“I see.”  Harry smirks like he knows something that Nova doesn’t, and it intrigues her.  He tugs at his bottom lip and watches her for a moment.  She can feel the tips of her ears turning red, and she turns to her laptop.  She hears Harry let out a soft, nasally laugh before he, too, turns back to his laptop. 

She surprises herself when she speaks this time.  “I like your accent.”

Harry smirks, but he doesn’t look away from his laptop.  “Thanks.   Chose it myself.”

Nova rolls her eyes.  “What an original joke.”

Harry giggles-- actually giggles-- and it’s so endearing that Nova physically can’t stop herself from smiling.  “M’from England,” Harry says.  “But I moved here when I was 16.”

“Oh yeah?  Why’s that?”

“When my parents divorced, my mum got a job out here.  And I was... I mean, ya know, I was a kid, right?  So I just came with her.”

“I see.”  Nova picks nervously at her thumbnail.  “Sorry to hear about the divorce.”

Harry shakes his head.  “Nah.  Don’t worry about it.  Still close with both of ‘em.  M’glad, anyway.  They drove each other fuckin’ crazy.”  The way he pronounces the word “fucking” makes Nova swoon, but she refrains from telling him that. 

He turns to his laptop.  “Anyway,” he says again, typing away.  “I like it here.  A lot.”

Nova smiles, busying herself with her own work.  “That’s good!”

They’re quiet after that, and Nova is actually able to go over a few pages of the notes she’d taken a week ago.  She’d been studying for the past few weeks, of course, so she could recite this stuff in her sleep, but still.  It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

It isn’t even five minutes later, however, when he’s talking again.  He’s asking her some question about Mr. Shuff-- Rick-- and his class, and next thing she knows she’s helping him with his study guide for the midterm.  (The midterm she’d aced with flying colors, she reminds him several times.)

Harry is smart, despite science not being his thing.  A lot of the concepts that come as second nature to her don’t quite click in his brain, but the way he talks about them, the way he asks questions, the way he perceives and listens and takes in everything she’s telling him is fascinating.  (Not to mention the fact that he’s actually quite beautiful to look at.)

Nova hasn’t even noticed when an hour has passed, and she actually feels her stomach drop when Harry mutters, “Oh shit, I’ve gotta go.”

“Where?”  She feels stupid for asking, but she can’t help herself.

Harry is already up and wiggling into his jacket. “I have to go to class.  It starts at 3:30.”

Nova glances down at the clock on her laptop, which reads 3:25.  Damn.

“Thank you so much for all the help, today, really.    I feel like I kind of understand it now.”

“Anytime!” Nova says.  “And you know, I’m here a lot, so.  If you ever need help, you know where to find me.”

Harry shoots her a genuine smile, and she crosses her fingers (on both hands) under the table, praying that he’ll ask for her number.  “Thanks,” he says, nodding.  “I’ll see you around, Nova.”

And then he’s gone, and the shop already seems less bright.  (A terrible metaphor but an accurate one nonetheless.)  

Nova stares dumbly at the empty chair in front of her, and she lets out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding.   Looking back, she probably could’ve asked him for his number instead of hoping he’d ask her for hers.  But still. Ouch.

Her laptop has gone into sleep mode and she wiggles her fingers against the mousepad to “wake it back up.”  She’s hardly even glanced at her notes this entire time, and she doesn’t even care.  She’d gotten to talk about something she loved with one of the most attractive guys she’d seen in AGES... and she had gotten no way of contacting him again.

She reaches for the coffee mug, which has been untouched for the last hour, and frowns when she realizes that the decent amount of coffee she had left is now cold.  So she sighs, drinking it down anyway and then closing her laptop.  She can do the rest of her studying at home, where she can maybe distract herself a bit and not think about those enormous, beautiful green eyes...

She stands then, slipping into her jacket and dropping her used mug off at the counter.  (She knows she could just leave it on the table and someone would come clean it, but having worked as a waitress all through high school, she knows the drill too well and figures she’ll just make everyone’s lives that much easier by doing this.)

With one last nod and a mumbled, “thank you” to the barista, Nova straightens her jacket and heads out the door. 

It’s two nights later, and Nova is impatient.

It’s a Saturday night, 9 business days since she’d ordered her package.  And still, no sign of it.

Who is she supposed to call about this?  She considers looking up the number for customer service on the website she’d ordered from, but then what would she say?  “Hi this is Nova Leary calling, is this dildo support?”  

There’s a reason she’s never done anything like this before, and this is it.

She groans, flipping upside down on the couch so that her head hangs off of the edge of it.  She opens up her Instagram once more and goes to the search section.  In her recent search history are several different variations of usernames containing the name “Harry,” and each time she’d clicked on one to find it wasn’t Coffee Shop Harry, she cursed herself for not asking for his last name.

It isn’t that she’s trying to stalk him, by any means.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite.  She just wants to see how he’s doing.  See if he’s taken Rick’s test yet and how he feels about it.  But she cannot find him anywhere, and she’s beginning to think that maybe its not meant to be.

She hears a knock on the door and groans.  She expects it to be Jessie, because most of the time when Jessie leaves, she forgets her keys.  (Although Nova doesn’t know why she didn’t just put her house key on the same keyring as her car keys.  It’s such a simple solution.)

Nova rolls backwards off the couch and shuffles to the door.  She expects to see Jessie, already kicking off her heels and holding her phone in her hand, with her mouth running a mile a minute telling Nova about tonight’s plans and how Nova should totally join her “just this once girl, pleeeease?”  She expects to turn Jessie down, and she expects Jessie to ask her to curl her hair because “I can’t do it like you, kid!”  

What Nova does not expect when she opens the door is Harry-- Coffee Shop Harry- standing in the hallway and holding a white box with that god-awful smirk.

“Well well well.  If it isn’t the supernova herself.”

She rolls her eyes but she does smile.  “Hi.”  She can’t even begin to explain whats happening in her chest right now.  He looks even better than he did at the coffee shop, if that’s even possible, Good lord. 

“Where’ve you been?  Feels like I haven’t seen you since 1604.”

“Ha ha,” she deadpans, then nods at the box.  “What are you doing here?  How’d you know I lived here?”

“Well, turns out this campus is a lot smaller than you’d think.  I live there,” he nods his head towards the next door over, “And this...”  He takes a deep breath and his cheeks redden the tiniest bit when he holds the box out to her.  “This was delivered to my place.”

It takes Nova a moment to register what he’s holding, and when she does, she gasps.

“Oh... oh my god...”

“Yeah... erm...” Harry shrugs awkwardly.  “I was going to just leave it there and hope you realized but I figured...” The tiniest hint of a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth once again, but he covers it and lowers his voice.  “Figured you’d maybe want whatever’s inside of here.”

Mortified, Nova gulps and shakes her head. Promised Discreet Packaging, her ass.

Her fingers feel awkward and cold, but her face is hot and overall this feels like she’s experiencing the most intense out-of-body experience in her entire life.  She opens her mouth, then closes it.  She can hear her heart pounding in her ears, and thinks that maybe this is it-- maybe she’s dying.  What she can feel of her body feels like its vibrating at a frequency unheard of by humans and most animals.  When was the last known case of spontaneous human combustion?  Is that what she’s feeling now?  Should Harry get out of the way? 

Harry clears his throat, drawing her from her thoughts and sending another heat wave up to her ears.  “Uh...” she chokes.  “Well... I... thanks.”  She takes the box from his hands in what can only be described as slow motion, despite her best efforts to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. 

Harry hands over the box and his hands feel warm too.  Possibly a little clammy.  Or maybe those are hers. “Sure, yeah. Have a good night.”

Nova closes her eyes and wills them to never open, and Harry lets out a little “Ha-haa!” that crescendos in the most awkward and unnatural way.  “No, that wasn’t... I didn’t mean...  because of the...”  He nods his head towards the box that feels like its going to melt out of her hand’s at any moment.

“Yeah,” she nods, willing him to please, for fucks sake, shut up before he finishes that sentence.  “Uh.  You too.  Have a... good night.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them makes any type of effort to pick up their feet and move, although for what reason, Nova isn’t sure.  Especially because neither of them will look at the other. And Nova wants more than anything to just close the door and evaporate into nothingness but her feet seem to be glued to the carpet.

Of all people who could’ve been her neighbor.

Harry clears his throat once more for what feels like the 80th time that night.  “Right.”  He nods his head and shoves his hands in his pockets, turning on his heels to head back to his own apartment.

(But not before Nova notices how beyond red his ears are.)

Nova closes her mouth after realizing that a) its been open this entire time, and b) she’s been watching Harry until he disappeared into his own apartment, and she comes back to reality slowly.

Fuck.

When she’s back inside the safety of her own apartment, she sinks down against the door.  She allows the box to drop out of her hands and land with a soft thud on the carpet while she hides her face.  Why did it have to be Coffee Shop Harry? Why did it have to be a fucking vibrator?

Why did this have to happen to her?

She wants to scream, but that, of course, would do her no favors.  So she groans, long and loud until she runs out of breath.  How is she going to be able to face this?  She won’t be able to use this now, knowing that Harry knows about it.  There’s no way she’ll be able to use it.

Except, that is a complete lie.

Four hours later, after Jessie has texted her and told her she’s going to be spending the night at Brad’s, Nova eyes the box that is now sitting in the corner of the living room.  It’s remained untouched since she’d gotten it, but she’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t been thinking about it.  How deliciously teasing it must be on its lowest setting, and how torturously good it must feel on its highest one.  She’d also be lying if she said she hadn’t been practically aching to know what it would look like, covered in her wetness, when she pulled it out from between her thighs.

And, to be frank, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been imagining what Harry would look like from down there, holding the vibrator firm between her legs, and watching her come undone with lust in his eyes.

She doesn’t know why she has that thought, and it makes her cheeks turn pink and hot but she can’t even help it.  He’s been on her mind since the afternoon at the coffee shop, and now that she knows that he lives right next door, her thoughts are running even more wild than before.

And so she gives in.

Soon, Nova finds herself half sitting, half laying on her bed, knees curled up and naked from the waist down.  She eyes the contraption in her hands and lets out a shaky breath.  She doesn’t need instructions on how to use this or anything, but goodness, its so intimidating in her hands that she can’t help but feel a little lost.

But she knows what to do.  And she needs to stop putting it off. 

She clears her throat and sits up a bit more, and with her thumb she flips the switch of the vibrator to the lowest setting.  It hums to life, and her eyes widen just a fraction.

Holy shit.

Even on the lowest setting, its powerful.  Her hand thats holding the toy is buzzing, and her mouth practically waters.  She needs to get this on her right now.

She’s still nervous, and she lowers it down between her legs.  Slowly, so as to build up the anticipation.  She thinks she knows what it’s going to feel like, but she doesn’t fully know. What if she doesn’t like it?

And then she feels it.  Even on its lowest setting, it sends a tingle up her spine almost instantly.  Her jaw drops and she can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips.  Her knee-jerk reaction is to pull it away, and she sits there for a moment, taking it all in.

She definitely likes it.

She presses the tip against her clit again almost hungrily and allows her head to fall back against the wall.  Her eyes flutter closed as she sighs out a quiet “Ohhh.”  It feels so good, especially when she adds a bit of pressure.  Fuck, why did she wait so long to purchase one of these?

She uses her thumb to increase the speed and groans the minute she hears the buzzing getting louder.  She tilts the vibrator to hit her clit from an angle and lets out a half moan, half gasp noise that she knows she’s never made before. With a giggle, she thanks her lucky stars that Jessie isn’t home tonight and she can be as loud as she wants. Because, oh god, does she want to be loud.

She swirls the vibrator against her clit with a little flick of her wrist, and moans loudly just because she can.  It feels good, and its even better knowing that she doesn’t have to suppress that feeling for anyone.  Although truthfully, she’s not even sure she could suppress it if she wanted to.  Not with how good this thing feels. 

She allows herself to fall into a steady rhythm of rocking her hips against the top, and she’s nearly drooling.  Every now and then she hits a certain spot that makes her toes curl and her breath hitch and she makes a note to focus more on that spot.  She revels in how good she’s feeling, and her mind begins to drift.

It starts small.  She thinks about how she wants to do this every night.  About what a shame it is that she’s missed out on making herself feel this good for so long.  About how she doesn’t need a partner to make herself feel good, and how wonderful that is.

But then, she thinks about having a partner.  Someone to hold this against her while they kiss her neck or lick into her mouth.  Someone with long fingers that could curl up inside her while they use their other hand to continuously roll this against her clit.  Someone with a deep voice, so that the words “You like this, baby? Hm? Feel good?” sound like honey dripping off their lips.  Someone with shaggy hair, green eyes, a thick british accent...

Fuck, she’s thinking about Harry.

Her legs kick out and her back arches just a bit when she hits another particularly good spot, and without even giving it a second thought, she turns up the speed.  She lets out a long, loud moan and involuntarily bucks her hips up against the vibrator.  Her head hits the wall once more with an embarrassingly loud thud, but she doesn’t even care.  She can’t be bothered to even begin to care; not when this feels so good and her mind is completely engrossed with thoughts of Harry.

She imagines what he would look like down between her legs, eyes trained on her face and bottom lip tucked between his teeth.  Her cheeks turn red when she allows herself to whisper his name softly under her breath, but it feels so good.  She starts to do it again, but cuts herself off when she hits her clit from a different angle.

Her whispers turn into a moan that almost sounds like a shout, and if she wasn’t so wrapped up in how good she’s feeling, she’d be worried about the fact that the tail end of Harry’s name was completely audible.  But how can she even think about that when she can hardly even think at all?  That familiar tingle in her belly is beginning to blossom, and all she can focus on is getting there.

And so she bucks her hips with a bit more aggression this time, and completely releases any and all inhibitions. A chorus of “fuckfuckfuck” and “shit oh my god” and “yes holy shit yes!” pours from her mouth and echos off the walls of her all too quiet apartment.  She doesn’t even have time to make the conscious decision to allow herself to cum, and its almost ridiculous how quickly she’s reached her orgasm. Especially considering how all she’s done with it is rub at her clit.  Her free hand grasps and tugs at the comforter of her bed, and her bottom lip stings because of how strongly it’s wedged between her teeth.   This is hands down the most intense orgasm she’s ever experienced, and she didn’t even have time to insert the thing inside of her or switch to the highest setting. 

She is loving every single second of it.

When the feeling passes, Nova is left completely breathless.  She flicks the vibrator off and drops it onto the bed beside her, and then she just stares. 

Fucking hell.

She gives herself time to catch her breath, and it feels almost like a struggle to keep her eyes open.  It’s the loveliest, most intense thing she’s experienced in a while, and she feels herself slowly returning back to earth, one shaky breath at a time.

When she straightens out her legs, her thighs twitch repeatedly-- almost like aftershocks.  Is that supposed to happen?  She doesn’t know, but right now, she’s too tired to be worried about it.  With a stretch, she curls and uncurls her toes, allowing them to crack and pop.  It feels surprisingly good, because she hadn’t realized how hard she’d been curling her toes the entire time.

And in the midst of it all, her thoughts drift back to Harry.  She thinks of how kind he must be during the aftershocks.  How smug he’d be that he’d made her feel so good.  And how hard his cock would be... how delicious it would taste...

Nova swallows when she realizes that she’s salivating at the thought of him, and she feels her cheeks grow hot once more.  Another twitch of her thighs snaps her back to reality.  

She can’t be fantasizing about him like this.  Absolutely not.  He’s her neighbor, and she’s only had one conversation with him.  (Two, if she considers the one she’d had with him earlier.  Which, she doesn’t.)

So why on earth is the thought of him using this vibrator on her so sexy, and why had it brought her to orgasm in under five minutes?

Suddenly, Nova feels embarrassed. Even more embarrassed than before.  Which is stupid, because she knows she’s alone in the apartment and has nothing to hide.  But still, she feels so vulnerable.  Exposed.  Naked.

Which reminds her that she is, in fact, naked from the waist down.  

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath.  She rolls off of her bed and her knees wobble ever so slightly once she puts weight on them.  She tries not to think about her twitching thighs and how wet she feels.  And most importantly, she tries not to think about Harry anymore.

Although she’s almost positive that he’d take care of her in these intimate moments after the intensity passed.  He’d probably get her a clean pair of underwear and one of his hoodies, which would smell like him, and he’d probably help her clean herself off.  Not to mention, of course, how good he’d probably smell....

Shut up, Nova.

She shakes her head and retrieves a pair of pink cotton panties from her top drawer.  Nowhere near sexy, but they’re comfortable and that’s what she needs right now.

She bets Harry would love them.

With a groan she gathers up her PJs, as well as the vibrator, and heads into the bathroom.  Her face feels hot the entire time she’s washing off the tip of the toy with a damp cloth.  (Is that what you’re supposed to do?  She’d read online that she needed to keep the vibrator clean, but is this correct?  Why does this shit confuse her so much?)

Fifteen minutes later, Nova is in bed and the vibrator is stored safely and discreetly in her closet.   She still feels awkward and giddy, like a little kid almost, and her thighs continue to buzz every so often with another little aftershock.  

She’s fading fast, and its hard to even focus her mind right now.  But what she does focus on is the one person who’s been her driving force behind nearly everything for the past hour or so.

She hugs her pillow closer and allows herself to imagine its him.  Imagining the scent of his bare chest, the warmth of his skin, and the gentle thumping of his heartbeat.  She imagines his fingers in her hair, trailing lightly down her back, and his thick accent humming and muttering her praises in her ear.  “Such a good girl for me.”  “Rode that so well.”  “Look so pretty when you cum.”

Nova knows she’ll have to deal with this in the morning, of course.  Or rather, not deal with it at all.  She knows she’ll eventually see Harry again, and she  knows herself well enough to know she will probably never make eye contact with him after tonights incident.  (She has the fleeting, sleepy thought that tonight could be referred to as The Great Dildo Incident and it makes her giggle so hard that she starts coughing.)

For now, though, she’s happy.  And warm.  And sincerely exhausted after fucking herself to the thought of her cute british neighbor.

And so for now, that is enough.

[islandwanderlust-blog]

#1

I moved to Texas for a job almost 3 years ago.  I was excited to get out of Idaho after my last real relationship didn’t work out.  I was a Detroit chick stuck in a hick town where everyone new that I met made a joke about “potatoes”.

Unexpectedly, I ended up in the gun related field and thats how I ended up in the gun-friendly state of Texas (go figure). Its not my perfect cup of tea, but it got me out of I-Duh-hoe and I happily packed my shit and drove 3 days to (yet again) start a new life in a new state.  

Its been almost 3 years and I’m antsy again, and to be honest, I’ve been like this for over a year now.

In April, while abroad on a vacation to Ireland, my employer decided to do the asshole thing and fire me while I was on my trip.  ... in an email.  I always knew that the workplace was toxic, but I didn’t expect them to stoop so low and be that shitty to an employee.  But then again, I didn’t really expect much else from a company where the owner would be completely lost if all the employees up and left - he knew nothing about our positions.  We had to fight for vacation time and when I finally got to take a REAL vacation, it ended up with me on unemployment.  

Awesome.

But maybe its for the best.   I’m now applying to jobs in the US Virgin Islands and this blog will be my struggles with, well, all of it.  The searching, the bitching, the research, the learning, the dreams and wishes, and hopefully the move.

So I’ve been unemployed since the end of April and its now the end of July.  Since July rolled around, I’ve started to search for jobs on Craigslist, Facebook, and then I was lucky enough to find the Virgin Islands Dept of Labor, where a ton of jobs are listed. Take note!  Jobs do legally have to be advertised there, so its a great spot to upload your resume and also apply.  

Facebook also has quite a few groups for those looking for jobs and apartments.

Speaking of....

Apartments are hell to find.  Won’t lie.

Everything is super expensive and the lack of selection is alarming, but Facebook is a great spot for looking... and SeaGlass, which is especially great if you have the option to buy.  But buying isn’t on the top of my list, and it really never is.  I move so much that purchasing a home has never been something that I WANT to do in life.  Everyone grows up wanting to get married, have kids, and buy a home.  I just want to find someone to settle down with and travel.  

In Texas, I finally had to purchase actual furniture.  Now, I’m hoping to move and will basically start all over again, fresh, and sell all that I’ve accumulated - because I’m sick of talking about living a stress free life.  Sick of dreaming of living in the islands, away from the bullshit, and crap jobs.

I’ll be 39 next weekend and I’m back to looking for a roomate, how funny is that?

St Thomas is first on my list.  St John being second due to the close proximity to Thomas.  St Croix being third as its the furthest away from anything else and less touristy.   I rather love the idea of always meeting new people, them asking “So where do you live?” as they assume I’m also on vacation.  I want to wake up to a gorgeous view (preferrably in the hills as I have a paranoia of some Tsunami blasting thru and flooding the lower beaches) and have a job where it pays the bills but lets me just wear flip flops and see the beach on a daily basis.

So.... the job hunt has started.  I received 1 reply asking about my (now expired) knowledge of CPR and water activities, and then received 1 reply today, inquiring on my living situation and if moving, when.  I tried to sound upbeat, as me and a friend are currently planning on taking a short 4/5 day trip down in the next couple weeks, but things are obviously dependent on if I can find employment.   Employment while stateside, not the easiest.  Some employers are expecting you to -come- fill out applications while there, so even if I fill out one during my trip, the finding out IF I got a job offer seems almost impossible unless they can fit me into an interview within those few days.

Scams, I’m finding, area also popular with sites like FB And Craigslist.  I received the same reply from two different job postings, asking for my information.  Both were from different names, but they stated the same stuff.  I looked up the companies they listed but were no where to be found on Google so if you think theres a red flag - 99% of the time, listen to your instinct.  It probably IS a scam.  This goes with apartments and places to rent also.  I placed a Craigslist ad for a room/apt but did NOT state I was a single female and DID state that I would like to see a website, if not that, I’ll need references to speak to in order to make sure its legitimate.

People post in forums that its expensive to live down there, so I’ve got my Google spreadsheet started with what I’ll need to make in order to pay what bills I’ll still have, a list of items to take and what I’ll need to buy, a list of what I’ve read I’ll need (from other expats and reading about their learning curves) and possibly what vehicle payment I can afford after I’m over the whole taxi/bus situation.

Honestly, my biggest obstacle is everything thats here in Texas. I still have an apartment, lease is not up until March.   I still have my car, lease is not up until April. The apartment complex will not let me out of my lease early for any reason, so subletting will be my only choice.  The car, well, I can give the lease up to someone most likely, if a friend would like to take over payments.   Otherwise, I have no issue selling everything I own and taking whats just needed with me, shipping the larger important things.  I figure selling things would also give me a bit of money to pay bills or get to USVI in the meantime.

.... thats it for my first blog post and rambling.  I’ll try and keep everyone posted and up to date on this insane move if I can keep the momentum going and get out there asap :)

[goodman-diana]

A chorus line: 2006 broadway revival

Im trying out this new thing where i review productions on tumblr instead of ranting to my non-theater friends. If you want me to review a production, send me a link in the ask! Spoilers coming your way!

First of all: this show is disgustingly profound. I don't know if I'll ever truly understand it, especially as someone who (probably) wont do theater professionally, and especially especially doesn't know a thing about dance. But i do like writing about shows, so here are my thoughts:

Visuals (i liked them a LOT)

The mirrors creating the illusion of a wider space even though theres barely any room in reality was a great metaphor for the number of jobs that were available for these dancers

Again, the mirrors. When cassie does her solo dance in "the music and the mirror," i was absolutely star-struck. You could see the desperation in every move from the front and back because of the wonderful mirrors. Lighting was also wonderful in this scene

Ok i should talk about costumes. Not my favorite thing about the show bc i thought some of them looked ridiculous (dianas shoulders were just... not it for me) but generally they made sense for the character.

Everyone knows about the iconic headshot scene, right? They parody it everywhere (i saw it first in something rotten). I thought it would be kind of laughable but they played it in a way that was serious and again, desperate, showing how zach and casting directors in general dont see you, they see a plastic, two dimensional version of you

To mirror (ha) my previous point, i thought it was really smart to not have zach onstage for most of the show. For most of the characters he feels like a god-figure, their fate held in his hands. to have him available for everyone to see wouldve rendered that a weaker point. It also hammers in his relationship with cassie and makes it more meaningful because theres god, coming down from wherever the hell (ha) he lives and talking to someone whose life he effectively controls. Hes vulnerable with her.

My favorite part: the BOWS madre mía omfg. Goddamn. Beautifully executed, showing how their desperation for this gig did nothing but make them look like little wind up toys, all identical to one another with no individuality. Goddamn. It was eerie let me tell you, and i was definitely more than a little spooked.

Acting

I know everyone cries when paul does his monologue, but i dunno it didnt really do it for me. That's probably more the stuff they talked about than the acting though. I did get a little emotional with the whole "take care of my son" but no tears.

I liked sheila. That is all.

I really liked how reluctant they were to share about themselves. Theyve spent so much time perfecting their pirouettes and their time steps (i know nothing abt dance sorry sorry) that they dont often get to reveal who they are as people. I read an article about a real ballerina who went through the same thing and it's almost a foreshadowing to the bows when everyone looks the same as everyone else, and they strangely look comfortable without any individuality

Even though i ragged on her costume i thought diana was really nicely cast

Music

Generally speaking the music/lyrics werent eye opening or super impactful for me, but they were good. You know, it's sondheim.

"I can do that" was SO CUTE

"Sing" might just be my favorite number in the show? It's hysterical you should watch the texas state production. this song kind of showcases their chemistry and kristines dependence on al (idk why but i kinda feel like kristine has a slightly emotionally abusive relationship with al, but im not sure if thats a textually supported idea)

"Dance: ten; looks: three" was funny too but in a way that made me feel bad for val and the state of women in general. She wasnt even actually ugly

Final thoughts: the first words that came out of my mouth when i started watching the show was "this is terrible quality video recording." The last words were "wow." This show is broadway, both in subject matter and in its art form. You should really consider giving it a watch (i hear the movie kinda sucks though so maybe dont watch that)

[jesuslizarrd]

There is literally nothing in this life for me. I have no goals. I have nothing that I want to be. I shouldn't have gotten married because I'm only bringing him down and keeping him from achieving the things that he dreams of doing. I’m not doing good mentally. I’m not emotionally stable what so ever. I’m constantly on the brink of panic attacks, even in my sleep. I’ve really tried to think long and hard about what I want to do with myself, what do I want to be, who do I want to be, what do I want to do? I thought maybe a veterinarian, maybe an artist, illustrator or even get into forensic science. But ultimately, I don't have a passion for any of those things. Yes I love animals and especially dogs but I know that I know that I'm not cut out for vet school. I would fail and then I would forever be in debt for no fucking reason. It feels like my relationship with Thomas is going down hill and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m trying to do my part and be understanding, but it seems like I'm asking too much of him when it feels like he does so little. I grew up watching movies and seeing and hearing about men who are romantic and who care about their wives and all of the lovey dovey shit and me, being a naive little girl, thought “I want that. I want to fall in love with a man who is 100% undoubtedly in love with me too.” and it has been nothing but disappointment. I grew up being told “men only want sex! there’s only one thing on their mind!!!” and now I'm lucky if I get sex from my husband once everyone 3 weeks or so. I was told lie after lie after lie by friends, family, media, etc,. of how men are supposed to treat women. Is it women that asks too much of men? Maybe at times. And I try to ask myself, am I asking too much of Thomas? What can I do to not be selfish in our relationship? How can I put his feelings before mine? Because that’s what I want to do. That’s what I aim for and strive to do. But it’s not reciprocated. It isn't returned. He says he loves me, and most of the time, I really believe that. But other times, it’s almost as if he guilt trips me into making me believe he loves me because, well, if he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have moved all the way to Texas for me! And I'm a bitch for thinking he doesn’t love me after he did such a grand gesture for me! So surely he loves me.... right? And thats what I'm being reduced to. Asking myself and really, really questioning it...”does my husband love me.” and measuring my worth up to that question. 

I know that I am forever damaged by his porn addiction. I will never forget seeing it on his phone, as much as I REALLY fucking want to forget. It’s almost like a form of PTSD. I have literal triggers from it. And now, he chooses to stay in the living room to sleep so he can watch movies and fall asleep to movies because that’s comforting to him because he did that every night as a child. Fall asleep to watching movies. But of course my head immediately goes to, “he just wants to stay in there and away from me so he can jerk off to porn.” And I'm 1000% positive that he has, probably numerous times. The last time I asked him about it, he got really defensive. If he really loved me, he would get help for his porn addiction. But after 6 years of being together, has he done that? No. Not once. Not even tried. Except for the time him and his best friend, who is also addicted to porn, tried to stop together and by doing that, he had to have his friend over all day and spend the night and made me sleep on the couch in the living room where his step-dad was, also sleeping in the living room on the chair... Thinking about that now makes me feel humiliated and stupid. Why did I let him do that to me? I asked him if he would come lay with me tonight and he said no and his reason was “I just feel like I've been asked to do a lot lately.” how is this supposed to NOT make me feel like a hassle? Because laying with me and being with me is an annoyance for him, or so he makes it seem. 

So now I'm resorting to typing this all out because the suicide hotline was too long of a wait to talk to someone. 

I just want to cry and bury myself in a hole when I go back through my Tumblr and read all of the things he used to say to me that I shared on here. I guess THIS is what they meant when they said marriage is hard. It’s even harder when you know you should have left a long time ago. Not just for my sake, but his also. 

[takingcourage]

The Start of Forever - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Drake x MC

Word Count: 2,387

Series Summary: The wedding has passed and the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria are free to begin their lives together away from the constraints of court. While honeymooning in Texas, they’re confronted with questions from their past that raise implications about their future. (Slight AU)

Chapter Summary: Drake and Jena spend some time alone after a difficult conversation with his mother. 

Author’s Note: Whew! Apologies for the unexpected hiatus on this story. Now that I have some free time again, I should be able to finish posting this story. I appreciate your patience through the long delay!

Tagging: @andy-loves-corgis, @carabeth, @speedyoperarascalparty

All things considered, Karen Walker had been rather more understanding than she’d expected. As Jena loaded her cereal bowl into the dishwasher, she thought back over the painstaking conversation that had ended less than an hour before.

Drake had not underestimated the effect that their news would have on his mother. On learning that her son had been given a duchy, color had drained slowly from the older woman’s face until a dull white shell was all that remained. In spite of her polite responses, the visceral reactions had been painful for all three of them.

Shortly after their previous discussion had finished, Karen had pulled Drake aside for a private word. After what she'd seen over the past eighteen hours, Jena could only hope that the woman was doing him no further damage.

She tried to convince herself that she’d done nothing but hurry along the inevitable, but guilt assailed her all the same. This certainly wasn’t the way she’d envisioned this day going. At this point, so much of their morning had been consumed by unpleasant conversation that she wondered if Drake would want to leave early for their night back in Dallas. She glanced a the stovetop clock, trying not to get her hopes up.

The quiet intonations from down the hall were at least somewhat reassuring. There had been no yelling -- of that was certain. If she was venturing to guess, she didn’t think she’d heard anything that sounded like crying either. Both seemed like signs in favor of productive conversation between mother and son.

Jena found a rag draped across the head of the faucet, dampened it, and set about clearing crumbs from the table. As she finished the final swipe across the width, she sensed a presence coming toward her.

“You don’t have to do that, Wittman.” The soft-spoken words startled out of her thoughts, despite her intuition.

“I know. But I needed something to do.” She cupped her hand underneath the cloth and shook the contents into a nearby trash can. “You doing okay?” Having rinsed the rag, she returned it to its former spot and rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans.

“Fine.” His brown eyes were trained on her, and she raised a quizzical brow as he opened and shut his mouth. Eventually, the words ventured forth. “Would you be interested in going riding? I was hoping to get the chance to show you around the ranch…”

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” she assured, still taking in his appearance.

Drake looked tired. It was evident in the exaggerated slackness of the skin around his eyes. A pang of guilt plagued her as she contrasted this with their time at the cabin. He’d been so peaceful there. After all of the stress she’d seen on that face in the past months, it sickened her to think that she’d been the cause of more.

“Good. We may as well get over to the stables. Have you ever actually saddled a horse, Wittman?” He raised his brow in challenge.

“No, but I think I’m about to learn how.” 

“Just as long as you don’t go scaring the horses. I don’t want to have to reenact that rescue from the derby.”

Jena scoffed at the slight, shaking her head in disbelief as she followed him out the front door. “You know that’s not how it happened, Walker.”

“Of course not,” he acquiesced, treating her to a half smile. She rolled her eyes and fell into step at his side, slipping her fingers into his. 

Jena had only ridden horses a few times during childhood, but she’d adjusted to the practice fairly quickly after coming to Cordonia. When she wasn’t taking day-long treks for foxhunting, she found that she actually enjoyed it very much -- especially when she was fortunate enough to have her husband’s company.

Riding around his family’s property spawned memories of exploring Valtoria with him on horseback, and she felt a pang of longing for their home. There was so much waiting for them when they returned. As much as she had enjoyed the honeymoon, some part of her was giddy at the thought of starting real life together.

Today, however, she was focused on Drake’s wellbeing. Other than the extremely thorough instructions as he’d guided her through the process of saddling the horses, he’d been fairly quiet since coming to find her in the kitchen. Jena's mind overflowed with words that could fill the silence, but nothing felt right. She breathed a grateful sigh when he chose to speak instead.

“I was pretty upset with you this morning, Wittman. I was sitting there drinking coffee and thinking that you were being unreasonable -- that you’d judged my mom too harshly. I’m not so sure anymore.”

The uncertainty in his voice halted her instinctive response. Jena breathed out slowly through her nose, biding her time in case there was more he wanted to say.

“I’ve never felt so angry with her before. She can doubt me all she wants, but doubting you -- I never thought she’d go that far. That’s a line she shouldn’t have crossed. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore...”

“For the record, I didn’t want to be right,” Jena admitted softly, grateful that they kept their horses at a relaxed pace so that she could meet his gaze. Her heart clenched at the distance in his deep brown eyes. “I just know what it’s like to defend someone who doesn’t deserve it. Finding out they’re not who you thought they were...it’s a hard pill to swallow.” She fiddled with the leather reins between her fingers, hoping that she was treading lightly enough to cause no offense.

“Your dad?” he asked simply.

Nodding, she met his eyes. The distant look gave way to a tenderness that mirrored her own worry for him, and she was struck by just how broken both of their families had been. “I wasted a lot of years making excuses for him, Drake. When I finally forgave him, it wasn’t because he’d done anything to deserve it. I just needed closure.” Drake stretched out a hand and she took it gratefully before continuing. “I don’t want you to have to go through all of that with your mom. I hope you’re able to figure things out and find a way to start over, but please don’t beat yourself up about it if you’re not.”

Her husband sighed, taking his time to respond as he turned his gaze to the horizon. “I sort of have to. I mean, dad’s not around any more. She doesn’t exactly have anyone else.”

Jena shook her head in an attempt to clear the conflicting emotions. She’d realized long ago that his protective instinct would have a propensity for getting them in trouble. She just hadn’t expected the trouble to take this form. “You always want to defend the people you care about, Drake. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you -- one of the things I love most about you too. But sometimes you have to think about protecting yourself. Sometimes that may even mean letting others protect you.”

“I don’t like to have people worrying about me.”

“We’ve been over this before…”

“I know. And sometimes having you around to worry about me is a good thing. I wouldn’t have come clean with my mom if it hadn’t been for you.”

“I hope it was the right decision.” She’d spent the past several hours second guessing her encouragement from the night before. “Did things...go okay?”

“Heh.”

She waited several moments, but he elaborated no further. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she ventured finally.

“Just that I think it’s going to take some time for her to adjust to the idea that I’m a noble and that I’m staying in Cordonia for good. But I think some part of her is proud too. Maybe someday she’ll come around to the idea that I’m not just wasting my life over there.”

“Does she really think that?” The words felt strangled as Jena worked them out of her throat. So many of her early interactions with Drake became clearer as she considered Karen’s likely influence.

He clicked his tongue to encourage the horse, but her question remained unanswered. Several paces later, he came to a sudden stop. Jena pulled the reins gently and dismounted to stand beside him in the tall grass.

“We’ll let the horses graze for a bit.”

She stroked the mare’s bony cheek and dropped the reins, putting her hands in her pockets instead. Squinting against the mid-morning sun, she followed Drake to a line of fencing nearby. Green stretched before them on every side, the light wind stirring long blades of grass into mesmerizing waves. She wondered vaguely if this was the sight that had enticed Karen to come back from Cordonia. Out here, in the warmth of late spring, it wasn’t hard to imagine the appeal that this land must have held.

Drake leaned against the nearest post, a wrinkle forming between his brows. With ease, Jena mounted the fence beside him, steadying herself with a certain hand.

Did I cross a line? Why hasn’t he answered my question? Jena hated the thought that her carelessness might have caused such distress. A week ago, she wouldn’t have been so bothered by the thought. Now, as this man’s wife, she felt some measure of responsibility to read his mind. The notion was ridiculous, but present nonetheless. Just as she was clearing her throat, he spoke.

“I’m not sure what my mother thinks anymore. She didn’t take it very well when I moved back to Cordonia. Wanted me to forge my own path instead of running back to the palace.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Going back?” At her nod, he continued. “I had a lot of questions at the time, but in a way, mom’s right. I’d been following Liam around for so long that it was easier to just settle back into that when I came back from the States. It took me a while to find where I belonged in all of it.  But no, I don’t regret it. Cordonia is home.”

“You’ve found your way now. And with or without the courtly graces, you’re still Drake Walker,” she beamed encouragingly. “I just wish your mom had taken the chance to get to who that man is.” A fresh sting of remorse accompanied the words, and she looped her fingers around the hand that rested beside her on the fence.

Drake interlocked his fingers with her own and lifted his face tentatively. “I think I’d like for her to get the chance to.”

Her pulse quickened at the meaning that underpinned his words. Biting her tongue, she shifted her weight toward him and took in his pensive expression.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He hiked a hand through his hair. “But I’m not sure I’d ever forgive myself if I cut the relationship off completely. I’d always wonder if things could have been different. I’m not saying that I want to come out here for Christmases or anything, but--” preoccupied, he ceased speaking as she squeezed his hand. 

“I’ll support whatever you choose, Drake. I can’t say I have a very good first impression of her, but I respect how much she means to you. If I had any hope of my dad changing for the better, I’d probably make the same choice.” Her tone grew wistful at the impossible notion. “But I think we’re going to have to find a compromise. I don’t want you bending over backward to make her a part of our lives if she won’t even meet you halfway. You can’t do that to yourself, Drake.”

“Agreed.”

“So she’s going to have to understand that there are boundaries she can’t cross. It’s going to take some time for us to establish trust again.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he considered, stroking her knuckles with his thumb as he looked to her face. “She’s been through a lot, Jena. I don’t want to put her through more than she deserves.”

“I know,” she responded quickly to the flash of pain in his eyes. “But if she puts you through more than you deserve, she’ll have me to contend with.” Although her tone was light, they both knew that the threat was genuine.

He hoisted himself onto the fence beside her, dropping his hands to his sides. “I never thought I’d be so happy to get back to Valtoria, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

She offered a wry smile. “I am too. I know we’re going to try to work things out here, but I can’t wait to get back to Dallas and then home.”

“It’s the last night of our trip, Wittman. How do you want to spend it?”

“Seeing as it’s the last night of our honeymoon,” she emphasized, “I was thinking room service, hot tub, and…some drinks.”

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“I’m not going overboard though. We’ve got a day full of traveling tomorrow.”

“We’ll sleep it off on the plane.”

“Maybe you will," she joked, hopping down from the fence. “I’ll be awake for it all.”

“Even if I keep you up all night?”

Jena threw him a look over her shoulder. "That didn’t exactly work for the trip out here." He extended a hand toward her and she settled into the space between his legs, running her palms against toned thighs that were stretched taut from his heels pressing into the lower rail.

"I’ll take that as a challenge.” The glint in his eyes sent tendrils of heat through her core.

“Just keeping you on your toes, Walker.” 

Drake shook his head at her accompanying wink. 

“Ready when you are,” she announced, rising to the tips of her toes. Drake cradled her cheek in his hand and leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft and warm, heated by the morning sun. She snaked her arms around his waist and melted into him with pleasure. When she finally pulled away, it took several moments for her head to clear.

The kiss told her all she needed to know. They would make it through this.  Together.