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zarcake-writes · 4 years ago

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Joey

Happy Valentine’s Day! This was posted on my Patreon last year. If you want to read stories before anyone else, go check it out! Only costs $1. Enjoy!

Joey hates how crowded everything gets on Valentine’s Day. The crowds fill up every restaurant, all the parks, movie theaters, and even the ice cream shops. All those lovesick couples leave the air smelling sickeningly sweet, like a strange mixture of chocolate, perfume, and hormones. It makes his nose itch. And if he tries to breathe through his mouth, he can taste it. Makes him gag.

The forced romance is another aspect that makes Joey uncomfortable. Everyone acts extra sweet and mushy gushy during this day as if being romantic the rest of the year is impossible. All those jewelry commercials make him frown and those giant teddy bears are just ridiculous. He does like those fruit baskets though, they’re very delicious.

On the other side of the spectrum are those who vehemently hate the day. They sneer at couples, scoff at plans people make, and try to make everyone else feel terrible. Joey’s discovered that those people are usually alone on the holiday or just had their heartbroken, and seek to make everyone else miserable around them. Joey finds those people to be even more irritating, stinking up places with their bitter words and smell.

Joey is neither of those extremes. He does turn his nose up at the chocolate hearts, the stuffed bears, and those red balloons, but he is a sucker for love. A true romantic at heart, some might even say. Which explains his arrival to The Cupid’s Bow. Braving the crowds, the many couples stinking up the place with their love, and the sweet smell of chocolate, all for his pregnant fiancé who is currently curled up on their couch at home. No doubt playing on her phone while The Witcher is paused on the tv. Or even continuing the show without him.

As Joey steps into the crowded coffee shop, he thinks back to how he met his future wife and soon-to-be mother of his child. It was on Valentine’s Day three years ago. Joey was finally getting over a bad break up. He had stopped missing his ex-girlfriend months before, but that was the first Valentine’s Day he was spending alone in several years. It hurt being alone, especially with everyone around him rubbing their love in his face. He could smell the hormones and desire in the air, it was gross. Made him bitter, but it also hurt Joey.

He remembers there was a storm that day. It had been raining for three days straight, leaving the world dreary and wet. While the storm reflected Joey’s mood, it didn’t seem to bother anyone else in the coffee shop. Instead, it only added to the romantic tension in the shop. He had seen three different couples kiss in the rain like they were in some romantic movie, it was annoying.

As Joey sat in the coffee shop, wallowing in self-pity and hating the day, a woman came in. She was drenched from the storm outside and shivering, but there was a smile on her face. A beanie was on her head, she wore apple red lipstick, and her rain boots were a bright yellow. The boots were a nice contrast to the usual pink and reds in the shop.

Joey didn’t see her walk in. He was too busy looking down at his cup. He didn’t see her when she started to walk in his direction, her drink in hand. He was busy pulling on his jacket and making sure he had his wallet and phone. They might have never met, just completely walked past each other, if it wasn’t for a wet patch on the floor. She slipped, caught herself, but her coffee flew out of her hands and landed on Joey’s chest.

Looking back on that day, Joey is ashamed of how he acted. He snarled and jumped back; a whine of pain bubbled up in the back of his throat. He swallowed the pain down and looked up at the person, ready to tear into them for their clumsiness. He knew he was already starting to shift; he could feel the change under his skin and the dull pain in his jaw. But the growl died in his throat and the snarl fell from his face when he saw her.

She was beautiful. Her beanie was cute, those yellow rain boots, and her eyes. The red on her lips was beautiful, and Joey remembered wondering if they would leave stains on his skin. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Even as she began to frantically wipe his chest with the cheap napkins in her hands and apologizing profusely, Joey was lost under her spell. It took her a moment to realize that her hands were on his firm chest. And that he was wearing a white shirt that was now see-through. Joey thought she was going to pass out.

Aphrose, the shop owner, thought it was hilarious. He ushered the two to a different table and brought out fresh coffee for Joey and the woman. She apologized profusely, even bought Joey a couple of donuts from the shop as an apology. The two ended up talking for hours and even swapped numbers. They spent that first Valentine’s Day together and didn’t even realize. A few months later, Joey and she were dating.

After dating for two and a half years, she ended up pregnant. It wasn’t so much of a surprise, considering they weren’t being very careful. And Joey had popped his knot in her a month before while they were at his family’s cabin. Werewolf sperm is very potent. After finding out she was pregnant, Joey popped the question. And now, eight months later, Joey was happy with his very pregnant fiancé.

“Joey!”

Joey jumps and realizes he’s next in line. Aphrose is smiling behind the counter, a mischievous look in his eyes. While he looks human, Joey knows he’s not. His smell is off, but Joey isn’t sure what Aphrose is.

“Hey, Aphrose.”

“How are you? Where is your darling mate? Oh gosh, has she had the baby yet?”

Joey laughs and shakes his head. “Not yet, only a few more weeks though. She’s at home right now, curled up on the couch, probably watching The Witcher without me.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“She wanted one of those red velvet lattes.”

“Ahh, True Love’s Kiss. What about for you?”

Joey stops and stares at the menu. “Give me the same thing. She thinks it’s cute when our coffee orders match.”

“She will. Anything else?”

“Yeah, throw in four of those vegan berry donuts. She loves those.”

Joey pays and takes a seat while Aphrose is preparing the drinks and bagging the donuts. A buzz from his pocket gets Joey’s attention. He checks his phone and sees it’s from his fiancé.

Mama: Are you still at the shop?

Joey: Yes. Why?

Mama: Can you get me those vegan donuts? The berry ones? Please!

Joey laughs at the message. Before the pregnancy, she had a healthy and normal craving for sweets or anything sugary. But now she wants sweets and sugar so much more. And while caffeine isn’t recommended, she does indulge occasionally. Joey’s sure that Aphrose doesn’t even put coffee in her drinks though. Just sugar and milk.

Joey: Already on it, Mama. Be home soon. Love you.

The reply Joey gets is a string of happy faces and heart emojis. He can’t help the smile on his face.

His name is called, and he sees Aphrose behind the counter, smiling.

“Here you go, Joey.”

“Thanks, Aphrose.”

“So, I take it you and your lovely wife won’t be here this evening to celebrate this love-filled holiday?” Aphrose asked.

Joey laughs and shakes his head. “No, not this year. Unless she says she wants to go out, then we’ll be here. But she’s not a fan of waddling around in public.”

“Ah, I’m sure she has an adorable waddle.”

“She does. She really does.”

“Are you two doing anything fun tonight?”

“We are going to watch Netflix all night, eat dinner, and enjoy each other’s company. Didn’t even get each other gifts, the pup has been taking up all our time and they aren’t even here yet.”

Aphrose laughs and nods. “I understand. When she has the little pup, will you bring them by? Both of them?”

“Of course. Anyways, thanks Aphrose. See you later.”

“Goodbye, Joey! Have a nice night with your lady!”

Oh, Joey plans to. He plans to drink his overly sweet latte with his very pregnant fiancé, watch the show with her, and rub her ankles. He might drive a little faster than necessary, but he won’t admit that. It’s not like he ran a red light or a stop sign. But he definitely did speed through the yellow light though.

When Joey enters his house, it smells delicious and his stomach rumbles. She had thrown a chunk of meat in the slow cooker earlier this morning. Joey found her in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and cutting the potatoes, with a cup of hot chocolate beside her. She was dressed in his shirt and a pair of sleep shorts; her face was bare of any makeup and her hair tied up. She smiled when she saw him. While she looked tired, with the bags under her eyes, she looked genuinely happy.

Beneath the smell of food, Joey can smell her. Her usual soft vanilla and lavender smell has changed over the last few months. It’s grown spicier, like cinnamon and cloves. His smell is mixed in, but hers is so much stronger.

“Baby? I’m home.”

He hears a faint shout of excitement from the living room. When he enters the living room, she is laying on the couch, propped up against the armrest. The tv is still paused, Geralt of Rivia is making the same ugly face as when Joey left. The remote is still on the coffee table, which explains why she probably didn’t continue watching without him.

She smiles and makes grabby hands at Joey. “My big bad wolf.”

Joey snorts as he sets everything on the table. “I am not big or bad, but I am a wolf. So, you are partially correct.”

Joey reaches out and helps her sit up. Only when she’s sitting comfortably does Joey hand her one of the lattes and the bag of donuts. He takes his seat next to her and smiles when she sips the still hot drink.

“I know, but I like to call you that. Besides, your werewolf form is big. And you look like a bad boy.”

“And how do I look like a bad boy?”

“With your jacket and those boots you wear. And that scowl! I love it, but it does add to the whole dark and mysterious look you got going on. Not to mention your eyes. They’re beautiful, but clearly not human. Also, you assess everyone you meet, and it can unnerve people.”

Joey rolls his eyes as he takes a drink of the latter. It’s sweet, but not overly. He wonders if this is what red velvet is supposed to taste like.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.”

“It is not. I don’t assess people. And I don’t scowl.”

She gives him a look. “You do.”

“Ok, well, that’s just my face. Do you not like it?”

She smiles and cups his cheek. Her hands are warm and soft; they remind Joey of home. “I didn’t say that. I like your face, very much actually. It’s very handsome. And I hope our baby has your face.”

“I hope they have your eyes.”

She smiles and pulls her hand away. She settles against the couch and sighs. With the coffee in her hand and the bag of donuts resting on her stomach, she’s adorable.

“Enough of this talk. I want to finish this show with my white wolf before the baby gets here,” she said.

Joey snorts at her joke. He grabs the remote and gets comfortable beside her, careful not to jostle her too much. His arm settles on the back of the couch and she leans in against his side as much as she can. He hits play and the show continues.

Joey doesn’t find the show that interesting, he’s certain the books are better, but he won’t complain. She, however, loves it. She’s absorbed in the show, munching on her donuts and sipping her drink. She’s happy, and so is he.

The way some people celebrate this holiday bothers Joey. All the romance that’s shoved in everyone’s faces, it disgusts him. Or the people who feel the need to shit on everyone else’s romantic plans. They all bother him. But this, nestled against the couch with his pregnant fiancé, watching Henry Cavill scowl at everyone, and sipping coffee, is perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mama wolf,” Joey said.

She looks up at him and smiles. “Happy Valentine’s Day, papa wolf.”

#exophilia #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster x human #sfw #zarcake writes

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mopeytropey · 4 years ago

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a beer buds series: chapter 6

Timeline: takes place during chapter 5 of ‘apu’ just before Lexa and Clarke get a little too drunk while watching movies (oops!) in which they fall asleep on Clarke's couch together (oops again!), subsequently commencing what I like to call The Separation

Beer: Free Rise (MOSAIC) DRY-HOPPED SAISON

This edition of Free Rise highlights locally sourced Danko Rye from Valley Malt and Mosaic in the dry hop. A nuanced fruity hop profile is balanced with subtle, crisp malt character and expressive notes of pepper and clove. Light in body, with a clean, bone-dry finish.

ABV 7.3%

Posted on AO3 here or below the cut :)

Free Rise: Trillium Brewing Co (Fenway/Boston, MA) :::

“This newer location is great, but you really need to experience their beer garden next summer on the green. Clarke is obsessed with it—chances are she’ll probably drag you there at some point.”

Lincoln says it so casually, and the image that Lexa begins to paint comes effortlessly.

She and Clarke on a day trip to Boston in mid June, sharing sips of beer and sampling local food trucks in the afternoon sun. Clarke’s rasping laughter drifting through the park as Lexa is further charmed, relaxing in the warm sun and nearby ocean breezes.

She would allow Clarke to drag her any number of places, Lexa thinks. Given the opportunity.

“I’m excited to see both locations,” she says to Lincoln, as if her mind hadn’t drifted into an idyllic landscape of some potential future.

It’s what she’s begun to sense as of late: possibility.

A recent glimmer of hope has been sparking at the periphery of Lexa’s consciousness. There’s the exhilaration of what might be possible for her and Clarke, even in its uncertainty. Even if she doesn’t have any control over it. She can feel the potential of things to come buzzing through her even now, as she and Lincoln walk under the looming, green shadows of Fenway Park.

“Have you been?” Lincoln asks, nodding towards the infamous baseball park that sits in the heart of the city, surrounded by bars and businesses and gawking tourists.

“Not yet.”

“We should go—I haven’t had anyone to hate watch the Red Sox with in years.”

Lexa smiles up at him. “A cherished pastime.”

They swap baseball stats and playoff predictions while walking down the stretch of Brookline Ave between historic Fenway and Trillium. The city air is crisp and cool, and Lexa almost wishes for a jacket, but the chill invigorates her already vibrant mood. Upcoming plans with Clarke have filled her with an unchecked buoyancy.

Costia had left that morning for her weekend away with a parting kiss to Lexa’s temple, a warm hand cupped around the back of her neck.

Safe, perfunctory. Everything that Lexa has begun to associate with Costia.

“Can we try to talk about this again when I get back?”

For once, Lexa hadn’t flinched at the mention of Costia’s research grant and its implications for their relationship. “Sure.”

The extent of their goodbye at the door of their apartment had been Costia’s soft look and Lexa’s small smile as she briefly squeezed Costia’s fingers.

There had been a time when impending distance felt torturous—longing would spring up after only hours apart, and Lexa would ache to see her again.

Those moments for them, like so many others, are gone now.

And, if they have lost their weight, if they are no more than performative interactions between them, Lexa has begun to wonder: what’s left?

What is it that has kept her clinging to Costia so willfully?

Lexa has always excelled at making sense of her life and maintaining control, even amidst the chaos and unpredictability that has so often plagued her. She considers herself a rational person with a reasonable sense of the world, particularly the mechanics of her interpersonal relationships.

Being with Costia had been no different. From the very start, they just made sense. Lexa has always found comfort in the expected, seeking logic and practicality in her daily life.

At least, historically.

Ever since Clarke (clumsily) breezed into her life, Lexa hasn’t felt entirely reasonable about much of anything. Clarke is still unfamiliar in many ways. Her entire friendship has been fortuitous, unprecedented. It’s the first time in Lexa’s entire life that she has been irrevocably drawn towards such palpable uncertainty.

“This weather is perfect—I love it up here at this time of year,” Lincoln says.

Lexa breathes in deeply, anchoring herself to this moment and quieting the thoughts of her indeterminate future. “It’s great,” she smiles and continues in stride with Lincoln’s comforting shadow cast over her.

:::

The taproom is stunning: polished wood in every direction, exposed light bulbs hanging from an open ceiling, and thirty-foot glass doors stretching along an entire wall. In the warmer months, Lexa imagines the doors opening to a cluttered patio. In the early autumn temperatures, the patio is empty and half of the room inside is bathed in natural light while the other remains dim and cozy.

Lincoln heads straight for the bar counter. While a handful of other patrons have favored the couches near the windows, the bar sits empty.

“Hey guys.” A woman around their age approaches from behind the bar. She slides two menus in front of them as Lexa takes her seat beside Lincoln. “Here’s what we’re currently pouring on tap. Cans are listed at the bottom. You need a minute?”

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Lincoln answers.

The woman walks away with a smile that Lexa catches only as she looks up from her menu.

Lincoln drums his hands against the counter top. “Oh shit, I know what I’m getting.”

“That was quick,” Lexa says, returning her attention to the draft pours.

“Their gose is ridiculously good.”

“I think I’m going to do the farmhouse.”

“Did you two decide?” The bartender is already approaching as Lexa glances up from her menu. “Sorry—I wasn’t trying to hover, but it’s pretty dead in here today.”

“No worries.” Lexa offers a brief smile and watches the woman’s face transform, brightening as she stops directly in front of her and braces her arms against the edge of the counter.

“I’m gonna do the gose,” Lincoln says.

“And, I’ll do the Free Rise,” Lexa adds.

“That one is my favorite,” the bartender responds, grinning at Lexa as she retrieves their menus. “Be right back with those for you.”

“Thank you,” Lexa says while reaching for her phone that has buzzed twice from the front pocket of her jeans.

She’s fighting a grin at the messages she finds, simultaneously typing her response as Clarke continues her barrage of nonsense, and doesn’t catch the odd look Lincoln is giving her until she slides her phone onto the bar top.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, still looking too pleased for Lexa’s comfort. “So, what else are you up to this weekend? You wanna come check out the new poke bowl spot with me and O tomorrow?”

“I’m supposed to watch movies with Clarke tomorrow night—what time were you thinking of going?”

“No idea. I’ll let you know though. Or, you know, bring her with you. We can make it a foursome.”

His suggestion has her ridiculously flustered for what could be no more than an invitation to hang out with three of her friends. But, it’s Lincoln, and Lexa knows better than to underestimate his scheming.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll, um, I’ll ask her,” Lexa answers, almost immediately distracted again by the vibration of her phone.

She’s still rolling her eyes at Clarke’s entirely ridiculous diatribe about the validity of poorly written screenplays of the early 90s when the woman behind the bar returns with their drinks.

“Here we go. Should I start a tab for you?”

“Um, sure,” Lincoln responds. He fishes out his debit card from his wallet and slides it across the bar counter.

“I really love your sweater, by the way.”

There’s a brief, weighted pause following the sound of the woman’s voice, and Lexa looks up from her phone when she realizes the compliment was meant for her.

“Oh. Thanks.” She flashes another momentary smile before reaching for her beer and sending off her scathing rebuke for Clarke’s lack of cinematic prowess.

The absolute ire that it will produce and the irritated messages that will follow almost make Lexa giggle in public. Pushing Clarke’s buttons has become an accidentally honed skill.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you not the same person who told me—not two weeks ago—that having beautiful women flirting with you typically grabs your attention?”

Lexa closes her phone instantly, replacing it to her jeans pocket where she hopes it will be safe from Lincoln’s insightful observations. Like getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she attempts to clear her face of any guilt as she looks over at Lincoln because Clarke had not been flirting with her in the first place. They have merely been discussing preferences in film through a medium of quick wit and lightly antagonistic banter.

“What are you talking about?”

Lincoln’s voice drops to an even lower volume as he leans towards her. “That bartender has been chatting you up since we walked in, and you seem to be on another planet right now.”

“She was not—”

“Oh-ho-ho,” Lincoln laughs. “Believe me. She definitely was.”

Lexa chances a quick glance down the length of the bar towards the woman polishing glassware. She looks up before Lexa can avert her gaze, and that same smile is back. Lexa’s stomach drops regretfully.

She hadn’t registered the blatant interest from their bartender nor her physical features, which are, objectionably, quite attractive.

Damn it, Lincoln.

“How is it?” the woman calls out, and Lexa raises her glass with a forced smile.

She takes a sip, pretending it isn’t her first, and can actually feel Lincoln fighting a smile to her left. “It’s great. Thanks.”

“Maybe having multiple beautiful woman flirting with you simultaneously is throwing you off,” Lincoln stage whispers, gleefully watching Lexa’s discomfort until she kicks his leg with the toe of her sneaker.

“I’m ignoring you now.”

“Oh good,” Lincoln laughs, “this should be a fun hang then.”

Lexa’s phone continues to alert her of Clarke’s persistence, or so she assumes by the rapidity at which it vibrates. Clarke never sends one, moderate length text when she could send 12 fragmented messages in quick succession. She reaches into her pocket to silence her notifications when Lincoln gently pokes a finger into her tricep.

“I’m just giving you a hard time. You know I don’t give a shit if you text Clarke while we hang out. She’s my buddy.”

“Why are you assuming I was texting with Clarke?” Lexa can hear the edge to her voice and reaches for a drink of her saison to lessen her defenses.

“Wild guess.”

Even Lexa is relatively powerless to Lincoln’s smirking charm and fights a smile of her own when their eyes meet.

“We’re debating movie selections for tomorrow,” she shares. “Her taste in film is generally abhorrent.”

“You two are always fighting about something.”

“Not intentionally. But, Clarke can be very … frustrating,” Lexa admits with a soft scowl into her beer. Lincoln laughs in response and she exhales. “We’re extremely different people.”

“Yeah, but differences are good. At least she keeps things interesting.”

Lexa barely manages not to choke on her beer, swallowing inelegantly. “That is one way to put it.”

“So, Costia is gone until Monday?”

Lexa tries not to let the abrupt change in conversation jar her. “Yeah.”

“Where’s the conference again?”

“D.C.” Lexa clears her throat, tracing a ring of condensation with her index finger against the bar. “Johns Hopkins.”

“How have things been? Any better?”

“Define better.”

Lincoln grimaces sympathetically at Lexa’s unmasked cynicism, and she exhales a cleansing breath. She’s determined not to make this yet another installment of airing her grievances of a stalled relationship, like so many times before. Lincoln is too kind and too selfless—she doesn’t want to take advantage of his friendship by making everything about herself all the time.

“Sorry,” she says softly. “I guess I don’t know how to determine if things are improving or not. But, we’re trying to be more realistic about our relationship at the very least. Talking a bit more. She’s been pursuing this research grant, which would mean almost a full year apart as she works abroad.”

“Damn.”

“I know. I took the news spectacularly well, as you might imagine.”

“Lost your shit a little bit?”

Lexa huffs a laugh and pulls on the sleeve of her sweater. “I think you accused me of being particularly homicidal that morning?”

Lincoln tips back in his stool with a laugh. “Ah, yes—I knew it.”

“Thank you for gloating at my expense,” Lexa responds drolly.

“Sorry.” Lincoln clears the laughter from his voice and attempts composure. “So, what’s the plan? Wait and see if her proposal is accepted?”

Lexa swallows down a mouthful of beer and runs a hand through her hair. “I think we have plenty to talk about even if she doesn’t get the grant, but yeah. We’re supposed to talk when she gets back.”

“That’s really good, Lex.” Lincoln’s gentle timbre is warm and reassuring, all prodding humor gone from his tone. “I mean, it’s tough, but avoidance is also generally unhelpful.”

“Yes, I’ve realized.” Lexa smiles over at him, feeling better already.

Lincoln then asks, “What about Clarke?” and her momentary sense of relief vanishes.

She’s either gone extremely pale or is blushing fiercely because she feels both an icy chill and too hot all at once. She barely manages to respond without her voice shaking awkwardly. “What about Clarke?”

Lincoln is unfazed, lightly flicking his finger against her forehead as if they’re still thirteen and riding a noisy subway car. “She’s supposed to be your best friend, dummy. You should talk to her about this stuff.”

She’s never considered mentioning anything of significance about Costia to Clarke. It’s always seemed to Lexa, unsurprisingly, like a conflict of interest. Clarke will often inquire about Costia’s schooling, graciously concerned for her well-being within a demanding graduate program. In turn, Lexa offers her standard replies, never wanting to delve too far into their dynamic for fear it would reveal too much and ruin everything. Her life for the past several months has relied entirely on a delicate balance. Saying too much too soon could be perilous.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Hey guys, are we ready for another round?”

The unexpected sound of the bartender’s voice startles Lexa out of her thoughts, and she looks up to see that her beer is, in fact, empty.

“I’d like to try what he was drinking, actually,” Lexa tells her.

“You know what? I’m going to do the farmhouse,” Lincoln announces and slides their glasses closer to the woman standing in front of them.

She laughs easily while reaching for their empty glassware. It’s a nice laugh, ringing pleasantly in the quiet taproom. Even still, Lexa can’t help but register how much it pales in comparison to the addicting notes of Clarke’s distinctive laughter.

“Okay so two more of the same but in reverse,” the woman confirms. “Got it.”

As she leaves them, Lexa spins in her stool, determined to shift gears away from her indecisiveness. “Things with you and Octavia are going well?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln smiles. “Really great. She’s probably way too good for me, but I’m going to keep my mouth shut and hope she never figures it out.”

Lexa arches an eyebrow. “Do we need to sort through your abandonment trauma now? Because I thought we promised each other years ago that we would stop belittling our own self-worth.”

“No, no,” Lincoln laughs. “I’m good, I swear.” He shrugs a moment later and scratches his head. “Old habits.”

“There is no one too good for you, but if there were ever a perfect match out there, it’s Octavia.”

The bartender returns with their drinks before Lincoln can respond, but he looks at her as if Lexa has just gifted him the cosmos and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. Their next beer turns to idle chatter, old memories, sports, and shop talk. Lexa checks her messages while Lincoln is in the bathroom and finds that Clarke has not conceded any of her poorly formed arguments by even a fraction. The fiery retorts on her screen breed a smile so wide that she doesn’t manage to temper it by the time Lincoln returns.

If she were at liberty to be more honest, she would tell Clarke that it doesn’t matter what movies they watch. She’s just happy to be spending more time together. Instead, she slides her phone back into her pocket and stands beside her stool, stretching the stiff muscles of her back.

“You ready to go?”

Lexa smiles in response and nods.

They thank their bartender and exit the taproom into a setting sun. The foot traffic down Brookline Avenue is busier at the 5:00 hour as city workers rush towards their staggering commutes home. Lexa is lost in thought, still pondering her evening with Clarke the following day, when Lincoln abruptly pulls her down a side street with his hand wrapped around her elbow.

“Oh wait—this way.”

“Um, where the hell are we going?” Lexa asks when their course has been rerouted away from Lincoln’s car.

“I just decided I’m gonna take you for the best burger of your life. Storrow Drive is a parking lot right now anyway—it could take us hours to get home if we leave now. Let’s eat first and then drive back.”

In no rush to return to her empty apartment, Lexa shrugs easily. “Yeah, sure.” Being in Lincoln’s company is almost always preferable to anything else anyway.

After a moment’s pause, he nudges her with his elbow as they walk and is grinning stupidly when Lexa looks up at him. “If you really want to make Clarke mad, tell her we’re about to walk into Tasty Burger.”

Lexa has spent the better part of the year feeling unmoored by a lack of purpose. She has been draped in uncertainty and self-doubt after abandoning her life in New York. And while she still feels plagued by indecision, she’s also grateful for the choices she’s made that have brought her here, walking in stride with an old friend.

She returns Lincoln’s smile and reaches for her phone.

:::

#a beer bud series #a pleasant undoing #apu #brewkru!#clexa fic

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minghaos-pet · 4 years ago

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unusual seventeen date ideas

zoolA/N: I’m posting these to fill in the space while I finish chapters for my fics. These ideas came from a ritalin-fueled afternoon so they are NOT intended to be serious. I definitely do not see any of the members engaging in these types of activities so, again, none of this is serious

Warnings: criminal activity, theft, “”borrowing””, mentions of drugs (no drug use), pyramid schemes, some softness and fluff, brief mentions of police (acab), mentions of trash, mentions of food, heights

stealing bikes with seungcheol

seungcheol would pick you up precisely at 5am from outside your house, he would drive you through some quiet suburban neighborhoods (so romantique) and you'd pick off any bikes, trikes, and (if you're really lucky) electric scooters you find sitting outside the pristine homes of the neighborhood. Then you both would spend the whole day at the local park having fun and trading the bikes you stole to kids for their drones, ice cream cones, lunch money, whatever you want! the options are limitless when you're stealing bikes with seungcheol.

dumpster diving with jeonghan

your dates with jeonghan usually consisted of going out to fancy restaurants and getting something to eat, most definitely in multiple courses. "let's try something different," jeonghan suggested when you popped the nightly question of what do you want to eat. Much to your surprise and delight, jeonghan drove you in his 2014 white honda civic to applebee's, one of your favorite establishments. "are we getting potato skins?" "haha," he chuckled with a light behind his eyes, "something like that." he parked behind the building and opened the door for you, leading you to the dumpsters. before you could process what was going on. jeonghan had whipped the dumpster lid open and was scaling the side of the structure. you spent the rest of the evening going from place to place, scoring new makeup palettes and other goodies. needless to say, it was amazing how many potato skins your local applebee's threw out everyday.

squatting in abandoned buildings with joshua

joshua was the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could ever ask for. he was constantly waiting on you hand and foot and taking you on lavish vacations. however, you were growing tired of trips to dubai and paris, and wanted to go on a more rugged, adventure vacation. you brought it up to him and he smiled at you, reading your mind. two weeks later, joshua surprised you with an uber ride to the nearest abandoned Kmart in your town, giddy with excitement, you found that he had already bolt-cut the padlock on the expansive automatic doors. You spent the night walking up and down the aisles before going up to the roof. unfortunately, the door to the roof locked automatically, trapping you on top of the kmart. you and joshua spent the rest of your stay pointing out constellations and falling asleep under the stars before crafting a makeshift rope out of your own clothes to get down the building.

climbing things with jun

jun was a man of many hobbies and recreations, and climbing was one of them. every thursday and sunday night junhui would shake you out of bed and drag you to the nearest climbable structure. ladders, fences, even flights of stairs that led to god-knows-where. one sunday night, jun with excitement and anticipation coursing through his veins, he woke you up and ran out of bed so fast he barely had time to put on his shoes, not even noticing that he was wearing his old gucci slides on the wrong feet. "i have a good feeling about this one," he assured you while you ran through the night, finally approaching a cellular tower. without warning, jun began to climb and climb and climb, leaving you scrambling to get your foothold on the tower. once at the top, jun held your hand while you shivered against the wind. "y/n, look!" he shouted and pointed frantically at the ocean before you. "what is it?" "let's find out." wading through the ocean together, you struggled to keep up with his freestyle swimming towards your next target. it was an oil rig. oh junhui, you thought and smiled, what a character. you came back to the rig every thursday and sunday night, that is, before you were arrested by the coast guard, of course. classic junhui.

zoological warfare with soonyoung

it was no secret that soonyoung loved (and you mean loved) tigers. tiger stuffed animals filled your couches, bed, and dining room chairs; tiger paintings custom commissioned and worth thousands adorned your walls, and tiger videos from animal planet and other sources played night and day on your 100 inch television. Soonyoung cultivated his appreciation for the big cat by playing Zoo Tycoon on his laptop, so much that you practically had to rip the mouse out of his hand and threatened to burn the fifteen year old cd-rom. "soonyoungie," you cooed one afternoon, "i have a better idea than playing zoo tycoon..." immediately his eyes darkened, he knew exactly what you were talking about. You'd been to the zoo so many times before, but this time was different. While Soonyoung oohed and awwed at the tigers in their habitat, you reminded him of the real reason why you were at the zoo that late afternoon. Wire cutters in hand you were quick to disable the motion sensors and electric fences surrounding the enclosure. His deliciously built muscles strained while he pulled open the large fence, "you're free now," he whispered to himself. you both ran out of the habitat and back into the more populated areas of the zoo. words can't describe the elation soonyoung felt while he watched his favorite animals prance into the crowd, finally able to be their true selves.

recreating fahrenheit 451 with wonwoo

wonwoo loved his books more than anything else in his life, except, of course, you. he was halfway through his favorite book when the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. i have to recreate this with y/n, he thought to himself. He read for a couple more hours--not wanting to lose the plot of his favorite dystopian novel--before seeking you out. "y/n," he patted the top of your head lightly, "have you ever read fahrenheit 451?" "of course," you replied, smiling at your silly boyfriend, "we all had to read it in high school." not twenty minutes later were you and wonwoo elbows deep in the pile of books you had stacked in the middle of the alley by your apartment.

scalping concert tickets with jihoon

jihoon was a master producer, everyone knew it. The only thing he loved more than producing was making money, and you and your determined boyfriend were constantly jumping from one side-hustle to another. One of jihoon’s favorite side-hustles was printing fake concert tickets and selling them at the same venues he performed at. It was a two-in-one package, he used to tell you when you were hesitant about the legalities of such a practice. He’d sell tickets for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars, a few hours before a performance and then he’d run inside, get ready, and perform himself! After a while, you stopped noticing the angry crowds that would gather outside the venues during shows and you let yourself enjoy the show from backstage surrounded by a heavy stack of cash. The best part was, you didn’t have to pay taxes on it!

Jihoon could do a number of jobs all at once, from starting etsy stores to mowing lawns for a couple extra dollars, but by far this was his favorite technique. With the money he made he could buy you the extravagances you deserved.

joining an MLM with seokmin

Seokmin was all about the newest, greatest thing. When Jihoon came by one day and told him all about his experience selling essential oils at house parties, seokmin was instantly hooked on the prospect. It took you a little bit of convincing, but after watching your boyfriend steal the show with suburban housewives at the parties he hosted, you knew you had to support him in every way you could. It took a second mortgage on your house and two paycheck advancements, but you were able to build up enough stock of essential oils from the headquarters to fill up your spare room. Party after party you and Seokmin gave out samples after samples, freebies galore, but you were never able to fully deplete the millions of bottles of clove oil and the blends seokmin swore would make you both rich. Even though you never broke even, you loved your new life with seokmin. You had to sell your house and live out of a mini-van you found abandoned on the highway, but it gave you and seokmin a great supply of #VanLife instagram posts.

grand theft auto with mingyu

Dating mingyu was always thrilling and there was always something exciting happening whenever you were together. Tonight was no different, as mingyu promised you that he was taking you out to get a new car. You were ecstatic, having only dated mingyu three and a half weeks, it was a little soon for such extravagant gifts like a whole car, but you weren’t one to complain and you certainly did not want to hurt his feelings.

The music blared loudly while you flew down the freeway in the new drop-top audi Mingyu got for you. You were a little worried when the car dealer insisted on coming with you for the test drive, but Mingyu’s charm and quick thinking, the dealer was nothing to worry about. Mingyu turned the radio up even higher when the sirens approached, adding to the thrill of the night.

“The lights make you look so pretty,” Mingyu fawned from the driver’s seat, “we should do this more often.”

You turned around to look behind you, the wind chapping your lips and whipping your hair, smiling.

you’ve always wanted a police escort.

borrowing from designer stores with minghao

minghao's sense of style was unparalleled, and being his significant other, you were privy to plenty of style and fashion advice. not that you minded, of course, because minghao would usually get so fed up with your disastrous outfits that he would let you wear his own clothes to save time and hassle. "y/n," minghao sighed after watching you put layer three jackets on top of each other, "we're going shopping. I'm going to teach you how to buy clothes." the places minghao shopped were unbelievable; while you usually bought your clothes off of Wish and Aliexpress, minghao was a well-known regular at versace, hermes, louis vuitton, and every other designer you could think of. your minimum wage paycheck could in no way sponsor these purchases, so you were completely reliant on minhao for these types of shopping trips. once in gucci, minghao pulled his bucket hat lower, covering his eyes and instructing you to do the same. he swung around the large umbrella he carried with him to the shops (confusing since it was not raining), and you watched him drop item after item into the half opened umbrella. astonished and amazed, you grabbed a wallet off of the shelf and attempted to pocket it discretely, but were caught by security. You watched as minghao left the store while you were being interrogated by the mall security. Lucky for you, you were able to get away safely and caught up with minghao to grab a pretzel before leaving the mall.

hitchhiking to jeju with seungkwan

there wasn't a day that went by when seungkwan didn't miss home: the tangerine groves, the crisp sea air, and Hallasan mountain. on one of his routine pining sessions, you had the brightest idea you'd had in a very long time, it was your chance to finally go on a much needed trip with Seungkwan to the place he loved most. You whipped out yours and his favorite and most reliable tennis shoes, grabbed a bottle of water to share, and set on your way. Despite the heat and exhaustion, seungkwan was overjoyed to be on his way to Jeju, especially to be able to go there with you and show you his old stomping grounds. As you both walked, thumbs out, you found refuge in a few nice strangers' cars. Seungkwan loved the economical nature of your trip and you loved the fact that you got to spend it with him.

cult-hopping with vernon

vernon had some...interesting hobbies and past-times, but being his significant other you loved to share these moments with him, even if they were a little strange at moments. something that vernon had always, and he meant a l w a y s wanted to do was something he called "cult-hopping" where the two of you would spend a few months to a year joining cult after cult just to understand and learn the ins-and-outs of each organization before leaving and moving onto the next one. For the first few weeks, the experience was painfully slow, but after you'd moved on to your fourth (or was it fifth?) cult, you began to develop the understand and appreciation for it that vernon always hoped you would. You drank kool-aid, had communal baths, and even shared in some unusual choices of meals. It warmed your heart t be able to spend this much needed time with vernon, and he was happy to learn more about cults.

drug trafficking with chan

airports were your absolute favorite place, something about them made you feel so comforted and at home. with chan there to hold your hand through security and sew up secret pockets in your luggage, it felt extra special. you weren't new to the drug trafficking scene, and found it as a lovely way to make some extra money when funds were tight; although chan was definitely not in need of money due to his idol career, he still loved to see what you did best. He watched a few youtube tutorials and already he was a pro at getting through security and past the drug dogs. You marveled at how chan even bent down to pet a few of the canine officers, amazed at his composure throughout the whole process. If things went well this trip, you knew that your boss would ask him to join the ranks, meaning you and chan could fly, take trains, and travel whenever and wherever you wanted.

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years ago

Text

A Mage’s Blood-Part Two

Summary: Geralt deals with a comatose companion, comforts the displaced Geeta, and wades through his growing affection for another mage despite his reservations.

Pairing: Geralt/OFC (Anathema of Velena) and a bit of Geralt/OFC (Geeta) (totally platonically!) but it’s half/mostly Geralt dealing with the aftermath of the monster fight in the last installment of the story.

Word count: 4.5k

Rating/Warnings: M for language and violence. Some angst. Some fluff. Almost smut, but don’t get too excited, folks. I’m a bit cruel in this chapter. Shameless manipulation of the properties and qualities of character props for my own amusement and story advancement even though there is no evidence that such properties or qualities are a thing. (If you can’t suspend reality or rather fantasy, enough to accept what I did with this, I don’t know what to tell you, I thought it was clever, please don’t @ me. And maybe fan fiction isn’t your milieu.)

Inspiration: No changes from previous inspo note. Just this beautiful show, this stunning man, and like…my feelings, I guess.

Author’s Note: I’m really excited to write this chapter for Geralt. I’ve been wanting to talk about what’s been going on under that luscious white mane for ages. We go back to Ana in the next part, but this was crazy fun to write, especially the dream. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THESE POSTS NEED ANYTHING! PHOTOS OR GIFS...WHATEVER. Also, again, not beta’d, because as I said in the last installment’s author notes, my friends don’t play nice with the Cavillry. Lol! But I did read it at least twice.

Masterlist with links to previous chapters.

Tags: @fcgrizi @sunflowersstan @mylittlepartofthegalaxy@mstgsmy@lareinedususpense @geekycanuck @lunedelorient and @littlefreya Please let me know if you want to be tagged or if you want me not to tag you in things! I will not be offended!

Fucking Bruxae. That's all he was gonna say about this completely twisted and unpleasant situation they were in. Just. Fucking. Bruxae.

He reached for his potions pouch for the correct one to staunch bleeding…again. Damn, good thing his mage knew what to do for detox, because he hadn't had time to whip up a potion for that, himself. And he didn't think he had all of the ingredients, anyway.

Now this bitch was trying to call him a monster. Not that he could argue. He didn't. But he thought it was damned heavy handed of her. When she and her sisters were the ones who'd slaughtered thousands of people for no good reason.

Oh…he thought, after she explained herself…he'd heard worse reasons to lay waste to cities, if he was honest. Not that he was sympathizing. But the monologuing was giving him time to heal before he ended this once and for all.

Until…fuck.

"Ana! NO!" She had NOT just given herself away! That was the opposite of staying safe! As per their agreement! If they made it out of this alive, which he felt like he was constantly thinking these days, they were going to have a conversation about who was in charge in situations like this.

The Bruxa asked Ana who she was…Geralt thought that was quite the loaded question. He wasn't sure he could answer, himself. She had come to mean so much to him over such a short time. They'd found something of themselves in each other, he thought. He'd never quite found it with anyone else. Even Yen. Her explanation knocked him out of his stupor.

"I'm Anathema of Velena. I'm a mage. And much better equipped to sustain a bite than the poor little girl you've been hunting." She looked like a true warrior, standing in the column of light being cast out of the door to the fire-lit hovel, her steel in her right hand, dagger in the other, his silver wolf swinging from her neck. Thank the gods she'd put that on. His plan, the secret part of his plan, had worked. And they might just win the night, reclaim the day, and end the reign of terror these monsters had visited on this region for so many weeks.

"I don't see why it would hurt to try." Meena keened in a cackle that curdled Geralt's blood and charged at Ana. His neck wound essentially healed and forgotten, he jumped up and rushed to the two entangled in a vile and bloody embrace. Meena released her hold on Anathema's neck gasping as though she was drowning. As her sister before her, she was choking on blood as if it were pitch, although not quite as severely.

"What…have you…done to me…witcher?" she gasped as her body weakened from the poison she had just unwittingly consumed.

"You've done it to yourself, leech." He explained. "Ana was willing to let you drink from her, but you got greedy. You took what you wanted before an arrangement had been made. Don't touch her again." he interjected when Meena scowled at Ana as if she meant to finish her off. "She knew nothing of my plan. You see, that medallion is more than just a handy device to show me where the monsters and magic are hiding. It's a part of me. And the wearer takes on some of my…attributes. For instance, any potions I take affect the person wearing the medallion. Even if taking them personally would kill them instantly. That includes the Black Blood potion. Granted, the potions aren't as strong for the person wearing the medallion as they are for me, but it's enough, in most cases to do the trick." he pulled the Bruxa up to her knees as she continued to sputter and gasp for precious breath. And then he put her out of her asphyxiated misery by beheading her with a swift and sure swing of silver.

He rushed to Ana's side, the blood had been free flowing from her neck…reminding him too much of his past…of Blaviken…of…he made himself think her name, Renfri. He couldn't let Ana die like that. He wouldn't. He took out his canteen of water to rinse the blood and cleaned the wound, which was now barely trickling blood. The Kiss potion must have worked to an extent on her, as the Black Blood had. But she was barely conscious. He shook her as the bleeding ceased altogether.

"Anathema! Ana!!! Wake up, mage!"

"Mmm, 's there bacon?" she asked, groggy and still very out of it.

"Darling, it's nearly midnight. We've just defeated the Bruxae."

"Then why won' you lemme sleep?" she moaned. The venom of the Bruxa must still be working in her system. He couldn't take more potion right now and risk the toxicity to himself. He'd just have to try to get her somewhere safe until he could detox and take more. Then they'd have to take Geeta to Aretuza, he thought.

He had summoned Roach and Clove as soon as the Bruxa had been dispatched. He saw them trotting lazily toward him up the muddy, bloody street. He chanced leaving Ana there while he went into the house to gather their things and Geeta.

"Geeta, it's Geralt. Come on out, child. The monsters have gone."

The cupboard door creaked slowly open, permitting the right eye and nose of Geeta to peek out, warily.

"You sure it's safe?" she whispered. Unsure of the man who was still a stranger to her, and rightfully so.

"I am. Quite sure. Out with you now." and she exited with skepticism.

"Geeta, Miss Ana and I are going to leave now. And it's not safe for you to stay here. We want to take you to a place where you'll be safe and taken care of. Do you have any extra clothes or anything you need to bring with you from your home here?" She looked around the grim room and shrugged. He took his satchel from around his shoulder and tied a knot in the strap. He took a few important things out of it, and a bit of food, and the alcohol he needed for drinking and potions, and put it in his potions bag.

"Here," he slung the bag across her small body. "Find a little pillow and a blanket first, and put them into this bag. Then look around and see if there's anything else here you'd like to take with you." He hated seeing a child have to do this. But he knew it was ultimately going to be for her own good. The mages at Aretuza would know what she needed and with any luck, she could put this trauma behind her.

He started to gather the few things they'd left in the room. There hadn't been much. And it may not have been worth taking, but if Ana had wanted it, he didn't want it to be left behind.

He gathered Geeta, and hurried her to the door. As he walked past the cupboard, the glint of silver caught his eye…he couldn't justify leaving the tray there for marauders. Even if Geeta didn't want it and had no use for it…it had value. They may need to sell it. He grabbed it and shoved it into his saddlebag.

"Geeta, have you ever ridden a horse before?" she nodded, eyes sparkling with a nostalgia for which she was far too young.

"Oh yes, Mister Geralt! I used to get to ride Arrow all the time…that was my papa's horse." she looked sad. And Geralt understood, but he pushed her through her grief this time.

"Well, tonight, you're going to ride Clove. She's a very good horse. She's Miss Ana's horse. And I'm going to put some other bags and things on her, too. It shouldn't be too crowded for you though." he smiled at the girl as he loaded Clove with some of Roach's burden.

"Why isn't Miss Ana riding on her horse? It's her horse!" she seemed very concerned and confused.

"Well, Geeta, Miss Ana is very tired and can't ride by herself. She's going to ride on my horse, Roach, with me." he knelt beside Ana's comatose form to check and make sure she was still breathing. She was, slowly. Pulse fairly steady, not that he was a good judge, his own heart rate being so much slower than the normal for a human.

"Come here, little one." he lifted Geeta up onto Clove and handed her the reins. "Alright, now hold on while I get Miss Ana and myself onto Roach, then we can go." He hoisted Ana heroically onto Roach's neck, and then mounted up himself, eliciting an oppressed whinny from the steed.

"Hey, if I had another option, I'd take it, alright? We'll go slow, stop at the next inn that will room a witcher, and I'll buy you a big bag of apples. Fair?"

Roach whinnied again, complicit, if not happy.

~~~~~~~~~

It felt like hours they were riding. Geeta asked a few questions here and there, but wasn't the chatty nuisance he thought she would be. It was mostly the fact that he was concerned for Ana that made the time seem not to pass. He needed to get to the inn, meditate, detox, and take another healing potion so that she could recover from the Bruxa venom.

Thankfully, he saw the lights of an inn just ahead, and picked up their pace, signaling for Geeta and Clove to follow.

The Drowsy Bear was a bit quaint and simpering for his liking. Everyone was a bit too friendly and clean. There were no brawlers in the corner. No lascivious couplings being arranged and sampled by the fireside tables in the dining hall. Just a couple of men, who were probably father and son playing dice, apparently for fun, rather than money. He couldn’t comprehend what that must be like.

He arranged the room, keeping an eye out the large front window at the girls and the horses until the affluent matron got his key ready and took his coin.

He didn’t usually trust his horse to stable boys, but under these circumstances, he felt he had no choice. He let the boy take Clove and Roach to the stables as he burdened Geeta with what she could carry of Ana’s things, and took the rest himself, along with the mage, still almost as limp as a corpse.

“Stay close to me, Geeta. These people seem kind, but something tells me not to fully trust them.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to people being nice to you.” She said, with wisdom beyond her short years as she smiled and waved at a portly old man at the bar. Well…she didn’t have to call him out quite like that. He just grunted back at her in noncommittal reply. They were finally at their room. Once inside, Geralt flung Ana onto the bed, unceremoniously, and went quickly to the hearth to build a fire.

“Why aren’t people nice to you, Mister Geralt?” Geeta asked, such true concern and confusion in her voice that, although his instinct would have been to brush her off or to snap back, he actually tried to answer.

“Witchers like me can be dangerous, Geeta. We aren’t like most humans. We’ve changed so much that we aren’t actually humans anymore. And for some people, for most people, just being different is enough to make someone scary. I’m both different AND dangerous.”

“People were scared of my gran. She could do magic. She’d make little straw dollies dance for me. The day she died I got so upset. I didn’t want to look at any straw anymore. Then the haystack behind our house caught fire while I was staring at it.”

“That must have been scary for you." Geralt sympathized.

"Not the fire. But my mum was. She started yelling and looking for where the fire came from. But I was the only one there. She took me inside. It hurt my arm how she pulled me. And she yelled at me so loud. She told me I mustn't do anything like that ever again or I might get taken away from her. So I tried to be good…to not be…like gran…but it didn't matter. Because mum got taken from me instead." she started to cry. Geralt let the fire kindle a moment while he pulled the child into his lap.

"It's alright to cry, Geeta. It's alright to be scared. But you won't be forever. Did you know, I was about your age, and even a bit younger when I lost my family?" he saved her the heartbreaking details of his abandonment. She looked into his eyes with curiosity putting a stopper in the tear ducts. "It's true. I learned about the ways of being a witcher when I was just a boy. And I wasn't very old when I became one, either. I won't tell you I was never scared and I never cried, because I don't want to lie to you. But I cried less and became less scared the longer I worked and lived this life. And you'll be taken in by lovely people just like you who know how to help you control that power in you, the same power your gran had, and maybe even use it to help people."

"I'd like to help people. Is that what people like me do?" she asked, hopeful.

"Yes, if they're good and kind. Miss Ana is like you. She's a mage. And a rather good one. And very kind. She was trained at the place we're taking you."

"Really?" excitement vibrated through her tiny frame.

"Yes, really!" he chuckled. "But right now, I've got to try to make Miss Ana feel better. And I need to rest to do that. Why don't you get out your pillow and blanket and rest, too?" she climbed off his lap and emptied his satchel of her belongings as he gathered ingredients for a few potions he wanted to replenish. About an hour of meditation would be enough to detox and set the new potions. Once everything was prepared, he knelt on a small cushion he'd pulled from the bench by the door. He placed his palms on his thighs, checked one last time that Geeta was alright, which she was, and already deeply asleep, exhausted from the eventful evening, and closed his eyes.

At first he saw the typical imagery of his meditations. Trees over-burdened with lush green leaves allowing sparse but cheerful bursts of golden sunlight to peek through. The warmth of early summer was just beginning to weigh down the late morning air. A spring at the head of a brook bubbled a lively water song, cold, refreshing, over its pebbles. His toes played in the cool, soft grass at the water's edge where he sat, clothed in linen breeks and a tunic. Both still dark in color, but the stiffness of his leather armor and boots was all but forgotten here in this place of revitalization and tranquility. Here he could cast aside the witcher and be that small nugget of Geralt that killing monsters hadn't yet managed to fracture or destroy.

It was at this point in the meditation that he often chose whether to swim in the spring or to just breathe in it's clean, crisp vapors. Today felt like a breathing day, he was thinking, when he heard a splash in the dark pool before him. His eyes remained shut, trying to stay his path. He heard a laughter that was part carefree and musical, and part mischievous and deep. It was familiar. He'd heard this chuckle flip it's switches in conversation…recently. He heard the sultry, rich, but still sweet feminine voice call to him.

"Geralt! Come swim with me!" he shook his head, knowing that she wasn't really there.

"Come on, witcher! It's cold, and I need warming up!" he felt himself stir at the thought of being close to her wet body, but resisted again.

"Don't make me use magic, Geralt of Rivia!" and he felt an inexplicable weightlessness fill him, hovering him above the ground about four hands breadth. His eyes opened at this and he sat up on the bed of air Ana had conjured for him…the Ana of his dreams, it seemed. He looked at her, wet hair, black against her warm olive skin, tanned from her travels and years of coastal living. Her eyes flashed him that mysterious misty green of precious stones, her pupils not quite threatening to overtake the color as they had the night he'd taken her virginity…just last night, he thought, although it seemed a lifetime past. He could see her bare shoulders above the rippling surface of the crystal clear water, and could tell, also, that she was nude. This was his dream, after all. He stood, removed his tunic, and unlaced his breeks to step out of them. She grinned at him. It was somehow both sly and shy, and he didn't understand how she pulled that off.

"You already are, and I don't mean the levitation." he replied to her before hopping in. He sunk like a stone, into the unknown depths of the spring, but came back up right in front of her. He held her body, chilled and riddled with gooseflesh, to his warm and solid one. She sighed, content. He did likewise. He ran his hands along her soft, smooth curves under the cold water, sending shivers through her that were entirely unrelated to the temperature, he flattered himself to believe. She held him tighter, her arms slung around his neck, their height difference neutralized in the deep water. She seemed to assess him in an almost tactical manner before beginning a series of gentle kisses all over his face. His cheeks and forehead, his nose and chin, even his eyelids, shut from the bliss of her soft, full lips against him. His mouth was relaxed in a grin that was just open enough for her to kiss gently, intruding teasingly with her tender tongue. He responded slowly at first, returning into her mouth with his own tongue, but as their grips on one another tightened, his kiss became more searching and desperate, craving her taste.

He felt himself twitch and swell as his yearning for her grew stronger. She wrapped a leg around his hip, digging a heel into his ass. As he moved to line himself up with the only part of her that felt truly warm in the chilled spring, she moaned his name.

"Mmm, Geralt."

~~~~~~~

"Mmm, Geralt." he heard her moan, in reality, back in the now overwarm room of the inn, one hour down from his meditation…all he had needed, but fuck, if all his meditations went like that, he'd go for hours. The stiffness from his fantasy coming back with him in his wakefulness. Great. He made sure Geeta was still asleep, which she was, thankfully, and he stood, erect now in multiple ways, and went to the farthest corner of the room to try to release some of the pressure he felt. He had never brough someone into his meditations. Not like that. It unnerved him. He calmed his thoughts, remembering the blood of the battle and the sour stench of the near abandon hovel Geeta was cowering in, and it was helping, until Ana called for him again, so wantonly that all progress he'd made had been lost, and he gave up.

He walked over to grab a healing potion from his kit, and downed it quickly. He needed her to be better. He had never been more sure of anything, especially now, after that dream. The terror he'd felt when she'd stepped out of the hovel offering herself to the Bruxa had been unlike anything he'd felt since he began fighting monsters. He sat next to her on the bed, waiting for the potion to work through his blood and transfer to her through the magic of the medallion. He felt that maybe, making his presence and proximity known and felt in some way might help her. He stroked her hair. Thumbing tendrils away from her face, her lovely, heart-shaped face that even now, dewey from fever and slightly twisted in a soft frown was the most beautiful he'd ever seen. He got up to get a cloth dampened with water from the nearby pitcher and dab it over her head and neck. She was still a bit grimy and bloody from the attack of the Bruxa, but she had healed fully. They were just waiting now on the potion to eradicate the venom inside her. It worked almost instantly on him…but it didn't have to go through a magical filter, then, either.

Just when he wondered if he aught to try another dose or another potion, Ana's eyes fluttered and she groaned, writhing against what he presumed was the ache of poisoned muscles and veins being freed and cleansed. He had felt it a time or two in his day.

"Anathema! Darling are you alright?" he caressed the side of her face into his body, now relaxed with releif.

"Geralt?" she asked, looking around the room, confused and a bit frightened. "Where are we? Where's Geeta? What happened?"

"Everything is fine. Geeta is here with us, and we are at an inn on our way to Aretuza."

"Aretuza?"

"What do you remember about the fight, specifically the end, Ana?" Geralt whispered, hoping not to wake Geeta.

"I remember being down to just the two Bruxa, and one of them bit you, but succumbed to the Black Blood. Then I remember something about them needing a mage's blood…Geeta's!" suddenly she seemed to remember and sit up like a bolt, wincing at the muscles that protested the sudden and unwelcome movement they were forced to perform in their delicate state. "They wanted Geeta's blood and that's why they attacked the city. And I went out to see if my blood would appease the last Bruxa--"

"Which you should NOT have done because I had things well in hand." he interrupted.

"I wanted to help if I could. But then, after my offer…and her charge at me…I can only recall snippets. It's hazy and very disjointed. And…Did you just sling me over Roach's neck like a sack of meal?" she asked, most annoyed.

"I…at first. But just to get you mounted. You try getting a lifeless body onto a horse with no one but a tiny child around. Geeta was no help at all." they giggled.

"So how did I survive a Bruxa bite, Geralt? What happened after I blacked out?"

"You killed the last Bruxa…sort of. You see this medallion of mine you kindly donned before the battle? I left it for you for a reason. You understand that it's more than just jewelry, but even more than you already know, there's a little piece of me in it and any potion I take affects the wearer of that medallion without harming them, as it would if they just took one on their own. It filters the bad effects, but it also decreases the effectiveness a bit. So, Meena, the last Bruxa, wasn't immediately killed by biting you, only incapacitated, so I explained her error, and relieved her of her head." Geralt smirked at Ana, proud of his kill, even if he hadn't taken a trophy.

"Why didn't you tell me what the medallion would do to me if I wore it?" Ana was a bit frustrated now.

"I couldn't risk you not wearing it out of some silly pride or other noble notion you may have conjured. I did it for your own good, and for the safety of us all, Anathema." Geralt growled.

"No, I understand, the greater good, the lack of trust, perhaps? It's unfortunately a familiar tale with a familiar set of characters, Geralt." she hinted at his past deceptions as they'd spoken of before the Bruxae fight. They hadn't really finished that conversation, according to her, it seemed.

"Don't." he halted her.

"Is it not? Don't you see the similarities? I don't want us to tread that same path, Geralt. I'm not saying this is worth giving up what you and I have over. But it isn't so small that I think we should brush it under the rug, either."

"What is it you think we have, mage?" his anger at the comparison was clouding his judgement. Making him irrational.

"Don't you do that to me. Not after what we've been through over the last two nights." she grasped the medallion as if to hold him herself and the images of his dream came rushing back into his head. The beauty of nature and of her swirling all around him in the refreshing pool. The perfection of that moment. He knew he couldn't lie to her, but he didn't know how to tell her the truth, either.

"Geralt, you asked me before the battle what happy place I would go to in defense of the Bruxae song. I didn't tell you. I didn't want to make things too serious before the danger had passed. That was a mistake. I should have told you. If you had died without knowing that my happiest memories were made with you last night when we made love, I would have regretted it the rest of my days. You, Geralt. You were, and are my happy place, even now when you're being a deceptive, withholding, insolent bastard." she laughed. "It's sub-optimal, I know, our situation, but it is OUR situation, and we are…in it. And honestly, I'm very thankful that you're the one in it with me."

Geralt hadn't cried…really cried…since he was very young. But this woman, Anathema of Velena, made him well up as he couldn't remember ever doing. His traitorous manhood, having slackened during their argument was now waking again as his affection grew with the forgiveness that washed over him after the mention of the Yen situation.

He laid down, aligning his body next to hers so that he could look into the jade pools of her eyes.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Ana. It was wrong of me to handle that as I did. I see the similarities and I will endeavor to do better in the future." she smiled at his apology and promise. He continued with a confession to match hers. "Now speaking of happy places, I don't have a lot. Those that I used to cherish seem to be tainted now, some for reasons we've discussed, and some for reasons I don't want to get into yet because it's still too painful for me. But Ana, you gave me one of the most beautiful and perfect nights of my long life, and yes, that was my happy place, as well."

She nestled herself against his firm body, her head resting on his arm, and her arm wrapped around his waist.

"I had a feeling." she said, a smug giggle escaping her throat as her eyes fluttered shut to return to sleep, now that she knew her people were safe and they were out of danger.

He smiled back and thought to himself, I have a feeling too, little mage.

Part Three-Coming Soon!

#netflix the witcher #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

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solarisjoon · 5 years ago

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A/N: Whoo! This is finally done, and I’m quite happy to say that smut is easy and fun to write! I will be posting a weekly/bi-weekly schedule tomorrow that I can truly follow now due to getting my mental health in check. The third drabble will be posted tomorrow as well. Feedback would be appreciated!!

Based on this ask from my Drabble NSFW Asks: anonymous said: For the nsfw drabble: d, 3, 63, and dom!hoseok, possibly an abo au? Id kill for a good dom/Alpha au rn love you btw

D: 3: “You’re such a useless whore.” 63: “Keep going, bitch. I want to see tears rolling down your cheeks.”

Pairing: Dom!Jung Hoseok X Reader ABO!AU Genre: Drabble Word Count: 2164 (Not really a drabble anymore huh?) Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

Cause every single touch don't mean a thing And every time you're calling out my name We know that it's just not to be alone We’re loving like we're animals (Animals by Alex & Sierra)

Receiving the text had caused a rush of heat to flow through me, and I clenched my thighs as I licked my lips:

Hosuck: My apartment, NOW

I hadn't graced him with a response as I hurriedly shoved my books into my bag and bid my study group adieu for the day.

"Where are you going, Y/N?" My best friend, Kim Taehyung, asked, concern etched onto his features.

"Heading home for the night Tae, don't worry about me." He stood quickly and grabbed my arm, his nostrils flaring as he scented what I tried hard to conceal.

"You're going to see him, right? Don't lie to me, I can smell you Y/N." He shook his head at the small noise I made in protest. "I thought you were done with him, all he's going to do is hurt you, he doesn't care about you."

Pulling my arm away, I narrowed my eyes, "I know Tae, all we do is fuck, and it's none of your business who and what I do."

The growl that reverberated through the room caused a shiver to run through me and I whined, tilting my head to show submission to the angry alpha in front of me. Taehyung's eyes widened and he backed away from me, "Shit Y/N, I-"

My eyes watered as I glared at him, "Forget it Tae." I left him there, rushing out of the library with shame coursing through me at the display I had just given every Alpha in the room. Taehyung had never handled me in that way before, albeit how unusual and pressing it was for an Alpha and Omega to be best friends, we could control our instincts around each other. It was upsetting, and I worried my lower lip between my teeth as I debated blowing Hoseok off for the night so I could go home and have a good cry.

As I passed his dorm complex, I could smell Hoseok, surprise rang through me at that, and I hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Entering the entryway, I glanced around and found Seokjin hurrying to the entrance, shoes barely on and a strange look on his face.

"Jin?"

He realized it was me standing there and breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh Y/N, thank gods."

I cocked my head as he pulled me into a quick hug, the comforting scent of a Beta wrapping around me. "What is it?"

"It's Hobi, he went into heat early, I barely got out of there."

My eyes widened as I realized the issue, and I pushed Jin away, "No, no. Hobi and I agreed not during heats. You know as well as I do what could happen."

Jin's eyes twinkled as he grinned, "Well, that wouldn't be a bad thing, now would it?"

"He doesn't feel the same as I do, Jin." I mumbled, turning away and hanging my head. "I'm gonna go, just call Hanyu for him, he needs another Alpha to help him." I started to turn, pushing the door open as I went, cutting Jin off mid-sentence and hurrying home.

After arriving back at my apartment, I stripped and showered, trying to keep my mind from thoughts of Hanyu and Hoseok together. Finishing up quickly, I threw on some comfy, yet old, pajamas and settled in front of the TV for a good binging session of Say Yes to the Dress. Sighing, I shoved a spoonful of rocky road ice cream into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully as I thought of myself in the brides’ places with Hoseok as the-

Okay, ending that train of thought right now.

Sitting up fully, I set the ice cream down on the coffee table in front of me, stretching my arms above me when I heard a loud bang come from the front door of my apartment. Before I could react, a sweaty, shirtless, Hoseok came into my living room and the overwhelming scent of cinnamon was washing over me. I let out a low whine and showed my neck to the Alpha before me, slick gathering between my legs at an alarming rate.

“I texted you,” Hoseok growled, fangs on display and anger making his eyes grow gold with his Alpha fully presenting.

“Jin told me it was your heat and-” I gasped as I was suddenly pressed up against the wall, Hoseok’s knee between my legs and his teeth at my throat, his nose rubbing against my cheek.

“I called you,” I froze, my mouth going dry and I glanced towards my phone sitting on the coffee table. If Hoseok had called me in the midst of his heat did that mean...? No, I wasn’t going to go there, he wasn’t thinking straight and neither was I due to his scent wrapping me in cinnamon cloves. The Omega part of me wanted to just submit to the Alpha scenting me, it wanted me to spread my legs and take him like a bitch in heat.

I had to stay focused, if I let myself go then Hoseok could accidentally mark me, and I didn't want the Alpha to be angry when he came back to his senses, marking an Omega like me. I felt the nip before I saw him move, the growl resurfacing, "Why do you smell like another Alpha?"

"It's just Taehyung, I was at a study group with him and-" Hoseok shut me up with a bruising kiss, his tongue licking into my mouth as if to gather every bit of my essence for his own. I keened, my back arching into his body as his knee pressed against my center, rubbing against my clenching entrance. A blush coated my body at the feeling of slick running in rivulets down my parted thighs, I was sure by now I had soaked through his jeans.

"He touched you, he touched what's mine." He had pulled away from my mouth, licking at my lips now. His words had me gasping as I ground against him, euphoria washing through me at the blooming feeling of hope in my chest.

"H-Hoseok..." This was dangerous, I was letting myself slip into his rut, into him, and yet I loved it, I was excited by it. I clenched against him, trying to hold myself back, as well as trying to stop more slick from escaping; the wet sounds of my grinding against his thigh were a bit embarrassing. "Please..." I broke, giving in to his lust and my love.

The salacious grin I was grace with let me know I was in trouble for running away. "Good girl." The rumbling of Hoseok's Alpha voice set me on fire, and I gripped his hair before pulling his lips to mine, fighting for dominance with my tongue and tracing his canines gently. Hoseok groaned, rutting his hips into my belly, and I realized just how affected he was by me.

Steel pressed into my stomach, rubbing a burning trail along my navel and making me beg for more. Hoseok happily obliged, flinging me over his shoulder and spanking my ass as he did, the keening cry I let out urging him on quicker to my bedroom. The air split around me as I was thrown onto my mattress, a soft oof leaving me at the force of his throw. A ripping sound echoed around us as I realized he had ripped my pajama shorts and panties in half, tossing the tattered threads behind him as he set his gaze upon what he wanted.

"Hey! Those were expensive!" I was more upset at the loss of my favorite pair of lacy panties than my sleep shorts, and even though he was the Alpha he needed to know what he had done.

"I'll buy you as many pairs as you want, just let me touch you now." Hoseok growled, his hands already sliding up my thighs as he crawled towards my center. His devilish tongue lashed out and licked a burning stripe up my slit, causing me to cry out at the pleasure. "Just like that baby girl, let everyone know what's going on." The puff of his hot breath against my core made me tremble, his lips brushing against my clit with every word he spoke.

Glancing down, I saw his golden eyes watching me as he lapped at me, a slow grin curving at his lips before he truly set out to devour me whole. Almost immediately, two fingers were shoved deep into my pussy, stretching me and hitting my g-spot in rapid, quick strokes. I keened and clawed at his hair, pressing him deeper into me, craving the pleasure he so willingly gave. His tongue lashed me, swirling about my clit and then tapping it quickly, keeping me so close to the edge but not letting me get there.

"You're such a useless whore, letting me have my way with this pretty pussy while you just whine and cry." Again, his words caused me such great pleasure, lips teasing my clit in such a perfect way that I cried out and came, stars shining in my head.

When I came back down from my high, Hoseok had undressed himself the rest of the way, his golden eyes watching my chest heave from under my vest top, and lips still shiny from my release. "Get rid of that before I do it for you." I scrambled to pull it over my head, so I wouldn't have to deal with yet another ripped item of clothing, and watched as his gaze zeroed in on my chest, more specifically, the way my nipples hardened under his watch. My own gaze focused on his leaking length, the purple head absolutely dripping with precum and his balls heavy with his release. I tracked the veins that wrapped his steely shaft, and watched how his knot flared gently at his base, ready to lock me to him.

I went to move onto my knees to give him some relief before Hoseok held me back, "Later, now I want you to ride me." I nodded and sat up, watching as his cock bobbed while he settled against my pillows, a grin lighting up his face as I crawled over him, slick dripping onto him. I took him in hand and held his head against my entrance, breath hitching as I pressed down, my body taking him with slight difficulty as he seemed to be much larger than normal. I moaned as I sank onto him, my clit rubbing against his navel with every breath.

At the slow growl that left him, I started to move, my hips pounding down onto him with such force the bed creaked in protest. The slick sounds of our coupling entranced him, as he watched where we were joined with rapt attention, licking his lips and letting out groans of pleasure. Every slap of my body against his had my energy sapping and a whine flying from my throat, a sudden, sharp smack to my ass had me jolting and opening my eyes to see the Alpha, my Alpha watching me.

“Keep going, bitch. I want to see tears rolling down your cheeks.” I obliged, slamming myself harder with each smack against my rapidly-bruising ass cheeks, my slick pooling onto his stomach by this point and making everything that much wetter. Tears started to gather in my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling, Hoseok's cock swelling with each stroke. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my head and slammed his mouth into mine, licking into me and making me taste my own pleasure on his tongue. I kissed him back with as much vigor, pushing myself to finish with my Alpha, as his knot was catching on me with every pull out.

Hoseok pulled away from my mouth and trailed kissed down my neck, nibbling little galaxies into my skin and making me cry out his name. "Shit," He growled out, hands grabbing my thighs and nails digging in deep enough to make me feel the bruises I would have. He thrust up with a force I didn't know he had and shoved his knot into my waiting pussy, his cum flooding me and filling me to the brim. His teeth were in my scent gland in a flash, and I keened and came around him, walls pulsating and milking more of his seed from him, my own, slightly smaller canines digging into his scent gland, marking Hoseok as mine.

Hoseok smiled at his mate, her sleeping figure covered in love bites and bruises from his hands, sufficiently marking her as his. Of course, the mark that covered her scent gland attested to that fact, and the many other rounds that had followed the initial marking. Their combined scents of cinnamon cloves and jasmine surrounded him and made his Alpha happy; they had their Omega, finally, and no one could take her from them. She truly was his wolfsbane.

#jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #dom!hoseok #alpha!hoseok #omega!reader #sub!reader #beta!seokjin #alpha!taehyung #smut #abo!au #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bangtanhq

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night-filled-mountain · 4 years ago

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so forgive me if this is kinda a stupid question but i have an oc from Boston and I've never actually been there (I'm from the south so my experience with anything in the north is limited lol) but I was wondering if there are like... certain phrases/interests/general info that I could use to build up her character a little more?

Not a stupid question! An exciting question!

So, disclaimer: I’m not a native Bostonian. I was born and raised in New Jersey. If I have any followers who can swoop in and correct or add to any of this, please do! But I’ve lived here on and off for 12 years and married a local, so I’ll give it my best shot.

First of all: Where in Boston is your OC from? This is pretty vital to pin down. It’d be a hugely different experience growing up in, say, Beacon Hill vs. Mattapan. There are plenty of basic breakdowns of the different neighborhoods online, but my one strength in answering this question is that I’ve moved all over this city like an erratic Ping-Pong ball. So if you need inside information about any specific area, I’ve lived or worked in: the Theater District, Back Bay, Allston, Brookline (not actually part of Boston, but closely associated with it), Kenmore/Fenway/Longwood (that’s kind of all one neighborhood, but I’ve got all three parts covered), the North End, Lower Mills (part of Dorchester, which is huge), and Mattapan. I’ve also hung out a lot in Downtown Crossing, Chinatown, Beacon Hill, and Cambridge (which is also not part of Boston).

If you don’t know what part of the city your OC’s from yet, think about her economic background, ethnicity/nationality, what she or her parents did/do for work, the kinds of places you imagine her spending her time, etc., and see if you can find a good match.

Other Boston things:

The accent: The Boston accent (as in “We pahk the cah on Hahvahd Yahd”) is real, but not universal. It’s mostly a thing in working-class families who’ve lived around here (and remained working-class) for at least a couple generations. My mother-in-law, who’s from a blue-collar Irish family in Dorchester, has it. Her husband is straight from Ireland with a full-blown brogue. And their four kids--all raised in the suburbs, all educated at private Catholic schools, after which they all went to college--have no trace of either accent.

Phrases: I feel like you want to be really careful with regional words/phrases in general, lest a character come off like a walking parody, but here are a few tips:

Possibly the most stereotypical Boston (and general New England) word is “wicked,” which is used to modify adjectives, as in “It’s wicked cold out” or “I’m wicked hungry.” (A girl from Maine was playing with my hair once and told me it was “wicked pretty,” and it was, like, the highlight of my life.) This is NOT something I hear on the regular, but I wouldn’t balk if your OC used it once or twice over the course of a story.

A liquor store is called a “packie” (short for “package store”). Don’t ask me why. My husband calls them this every time without fail, and was previously unaware that it was not a universal term.

A milkshake is called a frappe (which is pronounced “frap,” and does not involve coffee). Or at least, the drink in which you mix milk and ice cream, which would be called a milkshake in any other part of the country, is called a “frappe.” Supposedly, if you ask for a milkshake, you’ll get a drink made of milk and syrup with no ice cream, but I’ve never attempted this.

You don’t make a U-turn here--you “bang a U-ey.” Again, I can verify this one based on the fact that My Husband Says It. (And he once yelled it while playing a multiplayer video game involving cars, and was horrified when none of his fellow players had any idea what he was talking about.)

Interests: You’re probably already aware of the sports teams (Red Sox for baseball, Patriots for football, Celtics for basketball, Bruins for hockey). This is New England, Land of the Endless Winters, so hockey is pretty big (including casual kids’ hockey teams). Ice-skating is popular in general; the Frog Pond on the Boston Common (which doesn’t actually have any frogs) is a favorite spot.

As someone who is Not A Sports Person, I can also assure you that whether you want them to or not, the Red Sox will affect your life as a Bostonian. You will find yourself almost smothered to death on the T by dense crowds of drunk people in Sox gear on their way to or from a big game. You will be casually shopping downtown when a deafening wave of noise approaches, confetti rains down from the heavens, and you are nearly trampled to death by a post-World Series parade. You will be unable to sleep a wink the night after a game if you live anywhere near Fenway. And do not set foot in a bar at such times. DO NOT.

Other things that Bostonians care about more than the average person, in my experience: SEAFOOD; St. Patrick’s Day (I’ve never been to the parade because of reasons, and honestly, I’d also recommend avoiding the bars, the T, and even the very streets if possible); the Boston Pops concert and fireworks display at the Esplanade every Fourth of July (ok, that’s actually pretty fun); and all things American Revolution (well, you may not be interested, but you probably studied it intensively in school and visited a lot of local historical sites).

Public transit: Boston’s train/bus system is called the MBTA (Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority), but literally everyone calls it “the T.” If you travel on the T regularly, you probably have a CharlieCard:

These are named after an old campaign song by a politician who promised to lower the fares. It’s absurdly catchy.

Knowing what neighborhood your character is from tells you which T stations she would’ve lived near, which is also super important to my Bostonian mind. Is she a Red Line kid? Green? Orange? Blue? Or maybe she mostly took Silver Line buses, or rode the Commuter Rail (a.k.a. Purple Line) to work. (I‘ve only ever lived on the Green and Red Lines and certain bus lines, so I have Biases.)

College town: Boston is a college town. It is lousy with colleges. That’s what first brought me here, and even though I’m a townie now, I remember the culture well. College students make up around 20% of the city’s population when school is in session, and the downtown neighborhoods in particular are crawling with them. They swarm the bookstores and museums and bars (with real or fake IDs) and trendy restaurants. They work in every cafe and perform in every theater. They smoke clove cigarettes and take Duck Tours and ride the Swan Boats. If your character is a local, she’s had annoying encounters with college kids at some point or another. I promise not to take offense.

The Emerald Necklace: This is the nickname for a giant string of parks and waterways that surrounds the city of Boston. No matter where you live, including the most inner-city neighborhoods (which is where I currently live and work), chances are good that there is a substantial amount of green space and water in your general vicinity. Complete with hiking/bike paths that, if you follow them long enough, will take you through literal woods where you can see nothing but trees and hear nothing but birdsong. This is possibly my favorite thing about the whole New England region. It’s so heavily forested that you can still find your way to a little bit of nature in the most unexpected places.

Miscellaneous:

Dunkin’ Donuts is not found only in Boston, but it is more beloved in Boston than anywhere else on earth. I swear there is one on every block in the city. It is the place to get coffee as well as doughnuts. Starbucks is around here too, but is scorned in comparison.

J.P. Licks is a local chain of ice-cream stores with locations all over the city. Everyone goes there. It is very tasty.

The annual Christmas tree on the Boston Common is donated by Canadians from Nova Scotia. There’s a story behind it. It’s pretty cool. (The tree lighting is a huge event with speeches, music, fake snow, and sometimes fireworks. They actually light up the whole Common, which is gorgeous at night. I could see it from my dorm windows in college.)

This is obviously just a tiny fraction of Boston lore, but it’s still probably more than you wanted, and I should wrap this up while the day’s still young, so...hope some part of this was helpful! Let me know if you have any follow-up questions. I’m happy to ramble about Boston all day (...which is probably obvious by now).

#asks from the askbox #boston

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sweetdeathwrites · 5 years ago

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puppy love

Pairing: Reader / Tsuna / Gokudera / Yamamoto

Summary: There's nothing quite like spending time with friends— especially if you happen to have a little crush on... well, all of them!

Warning: (is this poly??) it’s poly, death by fluff, lots of flirting, warning for a super old fic–– my first on Luna, so oof...! If you think of 2010′s-indulgent-anime-fanfic, nothing here would surprise you, use of the [Name] bracket system....wowza..

Word Count: 1,781

~Dedicated to GuardianAngel07 on Luna!~

(posted from my AO3 and Luna. Original A/N below)

(aaaa~ Luna is up and running! I'm so happy! I've been a fan of this site for many years but I never had the chance to submit anything until now (not to mention how terrible my writing used to be...yikes)... Well, anyway, this is my first post on Luna! Sorry it's short, I'm trying to push myself to write longer pieces soon!! Hope you enjoy! It's been YEARS since I've used [name] blanks for the reader... Usually I just stick to avoiding using names and just stick with gender neutral pronouns (they, them). Since I'm on Luna now, I decided to indulge myself and use all those fun [name] blanks I used to read in fics from middle school~ This is also my first time writing for KHR! It's my favorite anime and I always felt like I would ruin it's legacy if I ever contributed to the fandom... but someone very special helped me change my mind about that... Naturally, I would like to dedicate that person who is very special to me... in fact, she dedicated a fic to me first! I'm just returning her generosity! So here we go— GuardianAngel07 ! I've been such a big fan of you for so long! I'm sure I've told you this through comments MANY times, but you truly inspire me! Not only in writing, but in art and in trying to better myself! I see how you have such big dreams on your Luna profile and I know that you can ABSOLUTELY make them come true! I look forward to the day I see you post an update with your name in the credits of a Disney film! You really mean the world to me and I'm so happy that my comments were able to make you feel happy too! I really hope we can interact again in the future... I have some more KHR fics in the works, one nearly done, that I hope you will read as well! I also have one VERY special one that I used to dream about when I was younger... It was heavily inspired by your It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World fic! But don't worry, I've changed a lot since it was originally planned and I assure you, I've made sure that it goes in a very different direction compared to your fic!! I'm not going to give a lot away at the moment, but I used to daydream (and I still do!) about the events happening in your fic and through the years those daydreams turned into creations of OCs and plot developments based off of the manga and.... I've said too much!! Anyway, I am SO GLAD and GRATEFUL for all you've done for me, not just for the fics, but for all the happiness, inspiration, and hope that I've gotten from them and from your profile! I really hope you enjoy this fic! Haha, I'm so excited~)

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“Hey!” A loud, annoying voice called out to you. You ignored it. “So, Tsu-kun, what’re you doing after school? Wanna go on a date with me? I’ll pay,” you mused, leaning on his desk and playing with the poor boy’s hair in your free hand, “I’ll pay for whatever you want to eat...How’s a salisbury steak sound?” “I-I-” Tsuna started, but was quickly interrupted by his righthand man yanking you away from him. Some of your classmates were paying attention- mostly the girls- but everyone was already used to the shenanigans that seemed to always occur whenever Sawada Tsunayoshi was around. “Get away from Juudaime, you evil succubus!” Gokudera growled in your face. You tutted and cupped his face with a gentle hand. He felt warm and you couldn’t help but admire the way the sun glittered off of his emerald green eyes. You hoped your small classroom’s open window would help to cool his temper. “Aw, fret not, Haya-chan, there’s more than enough of me to go around~” you winked at him and Gokudera dropped you quickly and covered his red face. You landed on the ground more roughly than you would’ve preferred, but you didn’t lose your composure. If you wanted to get anywhere with these boys you would have to try much harder! Smoothing out your now ruffled shirt, you took longer than you needed to in order to make absolutely sure that Tsuna and Gokudera were looking at you. Geez, it’s like these boys have never been flirted with… you thought, then realised Tsuna’s probably never been on the receiving end of a playful compliment. You decided to change that. “Hey, Tsu-kun.” You caught his attention, voice flat with none of the giddiness that you felt leaked through. “Y-Yes?” Tsuna sat stiffly on his chair and his hands were clenched so tightly on his desk that his knuckles were ghostly white. You darted over to him and laced one hand with Tsuna’s and cradled the back of his neck with your other. “Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? You’ve got doe eyes, Tsu-kun, sweet as chocolate.” Your gaze kept his eyes locked on yours and Tsuna let out a strangled whine. “Hey!” Gokudera yelled again, this time noticeably shakier. “I told you not to harass Juudaime!” Turning to glance at Gokudera, you pouted. The silver haired boy still had a hand clasped over his face and, despite his threats, didn’t make a single move to remove you from Tsuna. “I’m not harassing Tsuna!” Your eyes burned holes in Gokudera. “I’m not harassing you, am I, Tsu-kun?” you asked sweetly. Tsuna sputtered a variety words but none of them made cohesive sense or had any relation to each other. “Tsuna’s right, Gokudera,” a small yet commanding voice came from somewhere in the classroom. You looked around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just as you were going to turn your attention back to Tsuna, a panel slid open on the classroom wall and a small baby stepped out of it. He wore a suit and tie and a small lizard perched on his hat. “Hey, Reborn,” you greeted him, smiling brightly and not relinquishing your hold on poor Tsuna. Reborn nodded slightly in your direction. “Gokudera, it’s very rude to harass Tsuna’s future spouse. Act as a proper right hand man and devote yourself to their happiness.” “EEH?” Tsuna shrieked and toppled off his chair, landing in a heap on the ground. “Sp-Spouse?” No matter how ruby red a tomato or deep a fiery sunset, nothing could have come even close to comparing to the scarlet blush that burned Tsuna’s cheeks. Even his neck and shaking hands were flushed! “W-What?! But-” “What’s wrong, Gokudera? Would you rather take Tsuna’s future spouse for your own? Then Tsuna could get married to Haru-chan or Kyoko-chan. Or maybe-” “Yo!” Yamamoto burst in the class in full baseball gear. Some girls squealed in delight upon seeing him and you couldn’t blame them. Baseball pants made his butt look fine. Then his mocha eyes settled on you standing over Tsuna and Takeshi’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “-you would rather Yamamoto to be their husband?” Takeshi walked over to you and swung a muscular arm around your neck and pulled you close; he smelled earthy, sweet, and spicy, just like freshly ground cloves. His white shirt was crumpled and he was hot from baseball practice. Being pulled so close under his arm, you could feel the hard muscles of his stomach and lining his ribcage underneath the thin barrier of cloth. Nice. “Who’s going to get married?” he looked around for any visual cues that could help him piece together this mystery… Tsuna collapsed on the ground, Gokudera rooted to his spot with his face buried in his hands, Reborn dominating the conversation… Everything looked normal to him. “Are we playing a marriage game?” “Yamamoto, would you marry [Name]-chan?” Reborn asked, his coal black eyes as unnerving and omniscient as ever. Yamamoto turned to you examined you thoroughly. His eyes traveled over your soft features and, you noticed, tried to discreetly examine the rest of you. His rough hands held you firmly by the waist. Not that you wanted to get away from him, but now it was nearly impossible to move; if you did, you would end up being dipped, with Yamamoto’s hand at the small of your back and he’d hold your face gently and lean in and- “Of course I’d marry [Name]-chan! Who wouldn’t?” Yamamoto laughed and he sounded like wind chimes on a pleasant summer day. Your heart fluttered like a caged bird at that and you tried to laugh off the light flush that creeped up your neck. Gokudera noticed. “H-Hey, bastard, quit it! Don’t say stupid things like that, baseball freak!” Gokudera lowered his hands to shout at Yamamoto, furious for reasons unknown to him. “Haha, why not? It’s true, isn’t it!” Yamamoto hugged you close and rested his chin atop your head. He hummed happily and you felt it resound deep within your chest. Sunlight dappled the floors and lockers in the back of the room and you felt totally at peace. You could barely hear yourself think over the usual bickering between Gokudera and Yamamoto, but that was just fine. Basking in the moment, you made sure to never forget what was happening right now. You were alive. You were breathing the sweet, crisp air that flowed from your classroom’s open window, surrounded by your classmate’s, in the midst of embarrassing and adoring your beloved friends (and crushes). Joy bubbled in your stomach at the simple pleasure you gained from the moment. Then the moment was over. You spun yourself out of Yamamoto’s embrace and was swiftly blinded by the sun’s glare, being just the right height for the window’s wrath. Yamamoto yelped and caught you- look at that, he was dipping you! Looks like dreams do come true. But you had places to be. “Sorry, Take-kun, but I gotta go!” You winked at him and his mouth twitched in shy grin. Some girls murmured in jealousy, wishing they were in your place, wishing they could make Yamamoto blush the way you could. Your shoes padded across the floor to Tsuna’s still reclined form. Kneeling, you tapped Tsuna on the shoulder. His honey eyes looked up at you and you nearly screamed. What a cutie! Tsuna was nothing but a shy, lovesick puppy and that special side of him made you weak in the knees. “I’ll see you later, baby!” You leaned in and planted an adoring kiss on Tsuna’s cheek. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and he was talking again, unable to stop himself. “[Name]-chan! Oh my god, why did you do that, why would you want to do that to me! I’m No-Good Tsuna! Aah, I can’t believe you did that, I mean, it’s not like that was a bad thing! I’m not complaining! What I mean is why, why, oh my god, that was so- I don’t? I mean-” you giggled at his struggle and kissed his other cheek for good measure. “Don’t worry about it, Tsu-kun! I’ve got so much more in store for you later!” and Tsuna just about died in your arms. You could practically see his ghost coming out of his body. He just melted in your embrace. What a pure guy. “J-Juudaime! You wretch! How dare you wound Juudaime like this! I’ll make you pay!” Gokudera charged at you but you didn’t flinch. In fact, when he came close enough, you reached out and trailed your hand along his neck. Gokudera stopped dead in his tracks at your touch and his breath caught in his chest. “Silly little Haya-chan…” you teased, running your fingers across his jaw, “Think you can beat me? Nothing can beat the power of love, sweetie.” Somehow, Gokudera simultaneously paled and flushed. He nearly swooned at the playful mirth in your eyes when you blew him a kiss. Then he did swoon, falling backwards and scrambling away from you hurriedly. “Y-You devil!” Gokudera clutched his chest, heart undoubtedly beating wildly. “What magic have you cursed me with?!” You laughed and carded your hands through your hair, slightly unsure if you should really announce why you were torturing the three boys so much. ‘Screw it,’ you thought, and opened your mouth to speak. “You know,” you began, “I’m beginning to wonder what magic you three have cursed me with. Don’t you know what you do to me?” And with that, you waltzed out of the classroom, giving a knowing nod to Reborn along the way. The baby smirked and ignored Tsuna’s desperate questioning, Yamamoto’s confused laughs, and Gokudera’s outraged and shaky demands for you to come back and explain yourself. As you passed the threshold of the classroom into your school’s open air hallway, you couldn’t help but glance up at the clear sky and see how clouds floated airily across that wide, blue stretch, how the birds flew and cawed in pursuit of each other. With a bounce in your step and your heart fluttering, you jumped and spun and laughed, happy to have told them. Your mind buzzed with all the borderline-naughty things you could say to them tomorrow.

#sawada tsuna #sawada tsunayoshi #reborn tsuna #khr #reborn #gokudera hayato #gokudera #yamamoto takeshi #reborn yamamoto #reborn fanfic #khr fanfic #katekyo hitman reborn

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keepcalmimthecupcake · 6 years ago

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She’s From Boston part 6

Steve McGarrett x ofc

Word count: 2697

Warnings: Car crash

A/N: It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted on this story. If you want to catch up, you can find the other parts here: 1 2 3 4 5 Feedback is lovely and fuels my muse’s fire. If you enjoy my work and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here. If you want to read my other works, you can find those here. Special thanks to my lovely beta @fandomoniumflurry who kept me on track as best she could and helped me work through my block. <3

After a quick trip to the grocery store to buy some steaks and a few other items, Steve and Sophie made their way back home. She was totally relaxed now, even laughing heartily at Steve’s silly jokes. She had only known the commander for less than a week, yet it felt like she’d known him for years. She felt completely comfortable in his presence, which was something she never thought possible with anyone but Lydia and Michael. As the pair crossed through her mind, she made a mental note to call them and let them know everything was alright once she and Steve arrived home.

The grocery items were brought inside and Steve went up to shower while Sophie put things away and fired up the grill. As she waited for it to heat up, she picked up her phone and called her cousin. “Lyd, it was awful! I was so scared! Steve and Tani went inside! But everything turned out ok. Steve took them down.” Lydia could hear the pride in her younger cousin’s voice as she spoke about this hero named Steve McGarrett. The way Sophie spoke about him, the man seemed like he could walk on water.

They talked a little longer, then Sophie ended the call to begin cooking. Steve finished his shower then came downstairs to attempt to help with the grill, but his hand was promptly swatted away. “You’ve worked enough today, mister!” Sophie said. “Sit back and let me pamper you a little.” While the steaks were searing to perfection, she cubed up some potatoes, added a few garlic cloves and other spices, then wrapped the lot in some tin foil to throw on next to the meat.

Steve sat outside on a lawn chair sipping a beer and watching her work. He smiled as she moved about, curious about this potato recipe. When she brought the foil wrapped package out and placed it on the grill, he questioned her. “Where did you learn the potato thing?” She turned to him and smiled. “My dad taught me a thing or two about grilling. Actually he taught me a lot of things about cooking in general. My mom was a good cook, but my dad was a great one.”

The two talked about Sophie’s life growing up in New England as dinner cooked. She checked the food once in a while, then sat back down to answer his many questions. Why he was interested in her younger years, she didn’t know, but it felt nice to have someone interested in what her hopes and dreams and fears were. Some of the questions hit a nerve she wasn’t yet ready to pluck just yet, but Steve understood and did not pry.

When the meal was finished, she plated the food and set the dishes down on the small table between them. They ate in silence for a few moments, then she looked over at him. “What about you? Have you always lived in Hawaii?” Steve chuckled and went silent for a moment. “I was born here but I moved to the mainland when I was fifteen, after my mother passed. That’s a story for another time, though.” Sophie smiled and nodded, understanding that each probably needed to get to know the other better before such intimate details were spoken of.

Steve complimented her cooking skills several times as they ate, stating that she’d have to teach him her potato recipe. A comfortable silence set in for another few moments, then Steve looked over at her. “I’d like to hear some more about your childhood. What was one of your favorite things to do?” Sophie thought for a moment then smiled. “Well, autumn was a kind of big thing in my neighborhood. There were several people that had grand Halloween parties. Those were always fun, even if pretty spooky sometimes. The best haunted houses were there. But my favorite thing during that time was apple picking. I don’t know why I enjoyed it so much, but the apples always tasted better fresh off the trees.”

She paused and took another bite of her food, then laughed softly. “Of course, there was the time that I broke my arm at an orchard. I should have listened to my dad when he told me not to climb too high, but there was an apple that looked absolutely perfect and I was determined to make it mine. So I climbed higher and higher. ‘Sophie, I said don’t go too high! I’m not taking you to the hospital if you fall!’ he told me. But when I did inevitably fall, he was the first one at my side, followed closely by my mother. When we got home after the trip to the emergency room, he sat down with me. ‘I hope now you understand why I told you not to climb too high.’ he said and I just nodded. He often told me things and I didn’t always listen. I still wanted to try things. But if his warning came to pass, he would always make sure I understood why he had given his advice.” The silence once again sat in, Steve allowing her to get lost in her memories as they dined.

Once the food was finished, both fully satisfied, they cleaned up the table and moved to the living room. “It’s still your day, Princess Sophie. You pick a movie.” Steve said, a bright smile on his face. She blushed slightly and began to look through his movie collection. Most of them were action films. Though several were among some she enjoyed a lot, none were quite what she was in the mood for. “Ok you’re gonna think I’m silly, but I have a movie up in my room that I’d really like to watch right now.” Steve nodded his approval and she made her way to her room to search through her backpack, where she kept a few of her favorite movies that she’d brought with her.

After finding the film, she returned to the living room and turned on the dvd player. “Ok promise you won’t make fun of me for this? I used to watch this with my parents all the time. It’s one of my favorites ever and….” With the talk of her parents and her childhood, memories were flooding back to her and tears prickled her eyes. “I just kinda wanna watch this right now.”

Steve chuckled and sat down on the couch. “I promise I won’t make fun of you for it. ” Sophie pushed play then joined him on the couch. “It is considered a kids kind of movie but I think it’s for adults as well. It always makes me feel...I don’t know. I guess comfortable would be a good word? It brings back a lot of good memories for me. Dad would always pop us some popcorn and pour some apple juice for me. I probably drank an orchard’s worth of apple juice as a kid.” she said, laughing softly.

Both went silent then, watching the screen as the opening of the Wizard of Oz began to play on the screen. “Now this brings me back. I watched this with my parents a few times, too.” Steve stated simply, placing an arm on the back of the couch behind her. They settled in to watch the film, but when Steve looked over at her not more than a half hour after it began, he saw that she was asleep.

He chuckled and moved to pick her up. Carefully, he climbed the stairs and placed her gently on her bed. A blanket was draped over her, as the night was beginning to cool down and her window was open. When he went back downstairs, Junior was walking in the door. The younger man saw the film still playing on the screen and he raised a brow in question. “Sophie picked a movie to watch. She’s clearly had a long day, though. Passed out not long after it started.” Steve explained as Junior got himself some food, then sat on the couch.

She was back in her childhood home, fourteen years old once again. The gray autumn afternoon loomed over them, but the temperature was still rather warm. Rain had been threatening for days, but none had yet fallen. She was reading the newest book in her collection out under her favorite tree as her parents were packing up for a weekend trip to their cabin. She had decided she’d rather stay home and read, and her parents had agreed that she was old enough to stay on her own for a couple days. It probably had helped her case that her grandparents lived next door.

Once the car was packed, her parents walked over and gave her some last minute instructions and her father handed her some money so she could treat herself and order take out for dinner that night. They kissed her, hugged her and told her they loved her, and she returned their affection. She was anxious to be staying by herself, but she knew if she got too spooked, Nana and Papa would welcome her to stay with them. She smiled and waved as she watched her parents walk away. Her smile faltered a bit, though, when the first few drops of rain caressed her face. This meant she’d have to go inside now.

After settling herself in the rocking chair, she decided that she wanted to work on the crochet project she’d begun a few days before. Nana had taught her the craft and Sophie was excited to make her first blanket. Of course, it would be a Christmas gift for her parents. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but it was beginning to get dark and her stomach was rumbling.

She moved to the kitchen and looked in the drawer for the takeout menus, trying to decide what she wanted. Pizza was decided on and she called in an order for a large Hawaiian pizza. She settled back in now, the steady rain calming as she resumed her project. After some time, she heard a knock on the door. ‘Pizza got here quick’ she thought, but when she went to the door, it was not the pizza guy.

Lights from two police cars flashed in the darkness and two somber looking officers stood at the door. “Is this the home of Leonardo and Marilyn Russo?” the younger looking officer asked. Sophie’s heart thudded in her chest as she nodded. Her mouth was too dry to speak. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nana and Papa walking over. “Miss, is anyone here with you?” the second officer asked. Sophie shook her head, her voice raspy as she spoke. “No, but my grandparents are here.” she said, pointing to the elderly couple that had reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Leonardo and Marilyn were in a car crash about an hour ago. A drunk driver hit them head on.” the young officer said, his voice cracking slightly. “Neither of them survived. I’m sorry.” Sophie’s head began to spin. The lights made her even dizzier and she heard a scream in the distance. She didn’t realize it was her own scream until Papa’s arms were around her, catching her just before she hit the ground.

When the two men heard the scream from Sophie’s room, they both leapt to their feet and bounded up the stairs. She was sitting upright on her bed screaming and crying. She was confused for a moment, then realized where she was now, and whose arms were now around her. They weren’t Papa’s arms. He had died almost a year ago. They were Steve’s. “Hey. Hey I got you. We got you. What’s wrong?” he spoke softly, gently caressing her hair.

It took a moment before she was fully aware that she’d had a nightmare. It had been a long time since she’d dreamt of the worst night of her life. “Come on. Why don’t you come downstairs and we can talk about it if you want.” Steve practically carried her back down the stairs and sat her on the couch. “I…..I dreamt of the night my parents died. I hadn’t for a long time. I don’t know why I did tonight. I’m sorry for startling you guys.” Steve and Junior both frowned. “You don’t have to be sorry for that.” Junior stated. “We were just concerned is all.” He went to the kitchen and brought her back a bottle of water.

“It was probably my fault. I’m sorry for asking those questions earlier.” Steve stated. “No, it’s fine. I’ve talked about them before and didn’t have any nightmares. They haven’t happened for a long time.” she restated. “I like talking about them. Sometimes it makes me sad, but I want to like I don’t know….keep their memories alive. That was a really bad time for me. I was fourteen. I went to live with my Nana and Papa after that, but about a month after, we moved. It hurt us all too much to live next door to where my parents used to be.”

The next few hours were spent with Sophie telling the men tales of her youth. She told them about the time she and Lydia had nearly gotten arrested because her cousin had “borrowed” her parents’ car. What the older girl hadn’t said was that she hadn’t informed her parents that she was taking the car and they’d reported it stolen. The cop pulled them over and Lydia was in tears as she tried to explain that it was her parents’ car. This story earned a loud peal of laughter from both men.

Her eyes went slightly misty and a smile graced her face when she spoke about being the maid of honor at Lydia and Michael’s wedding. “Everything was perfect! It was supposed to rain that day, but the sun shone bright the whole ceremony. They wanted to get married in the place they met, which was on a beach in Maine. The rocky coast, ocean splashing behind us, birds chirping, the scent of the ocean and the many MANY flowers just…..” She trailed off for a moment then blushed slightly and chuckled. “Sorry. I got lost for a minute. Anyway, I owe them so much. They are the ones that got me here. Honestly, if it wasn’t for them, I probably wouldn’t even be alive right now.” Several other tales of her adventures with Lydia were told, some sad, some happy, all helping to make the nightmare disappear as her thoughts focused on two of the most important people in her life.

After a while, Junior excused himself to go up to his room. Steve and Sophie stayed downstairs and finished the Wizard of Oz. When it was over, Sophie turned to him, her cheeks flushed slightly. “I have a request. It’s weird, I know. But I feel….safe with you. Would it be ok if I slept in your room tonight? Or at least for a little while. I’m still kinda shaken by that dream.” Steve smiled and nodded. “Of course you can. I’ll be your personal dream catcher. If anymore bad dreams want to get to you, they have to go through me first.”

The pair made their way upstairs and Sophie collapsed onto the bed, still in her clothes. She didn’t bother to get under the covers. The room felt rather warm tonight. She felt kind of odd being in Steve’s bed, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it. They were friends, after all, and he wanted to assure that she was able to sleep peacefully. He was glad that she felt safe with him. As she lay there, she wondered how many other people felt safe because Steve and his team were always on duty to serve and protect. Her eyes were starting to drift closed before Steve even got under the covers. “Good night, Princess Sophie.” he said. “G’night, Steve.” she mumbled in return before she fell into a deep sleep.

#she's from boston #Hawaii Five-0 #H50 #Steve McGarrett #junior reigns #boo writes

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andersoncharm · 6 years ago

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Carve Your Name Into My Bed Post.//Seblaine Para.

Pairing: Seblaine.

When: Saturday, June 30. Evening.

Location: Snowed-In Cafe/Sebastian’s Cambridge Apartment.

Notes/Warnings: Smut.

Rating: NC-17

Blaine:

Blaine was just about to say goodbye to Quinn for the evening when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He smiled and nodded his farewell so as not to be rude as he checked his phone. 5:46 pm flashed across the screen along with a text from Sebastian saying he’d be there in ten. Blaine’s nerves jumped at the words on his screen, a nervous giddiness rolling though the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he sent a text back asking what Sebastian wanted to drink. Within seconds he had his answer: medium black iced tea with simple syrup. He turned back around to Quinn to make his new order.. He smiled once again and thanked her, making sure to leave her a tip, telling her he’d see her around before he stepped out into the heat again.

He made his way over to one of the little bistro tables in front of the coffee shop and sat down as he waited. His eyes scanning the road in vain looking for Sebastian’s car. It took him a whole minute to realize that he had zero clue what the other man drove. In his excitement this morning he had completely forgotten to ask. With a sigh he took a sip of his hot tea more for something to do with his hands than out of thirst. His other hand gripped the coldness of Sebastian's iced tea the contrast between the drinks causing him a slight shiver. He pulled his hands away and sat them lightly in his lap, trying his hardest not to look like a lost puppy as he waited. Every car that slowed near him sent a little thrill through him and caused him to second guess everything. His clothing; dark jeans, a tightly fitted red collared shirt, black and white Sperry top-sider boat shoes and his clear quartz tucked safely inside his shirt. He second guessed the crystal, wondering if Sebastian would see it and automatically know he was a little bit different. Plenty of people practiced with crystals is what he told himself and now he wasn’t so sure. He even second guessed his signature custom oil he’d decided to dab on his skin and hair. He’d mixed it himself, had been doing so since he was old enough to want to smell nice. A soft earthy and spicy mix of sandalwood, clove, sweet grass and a very mild patchouli. Normally he liked it, but now he wondered if it made him smell like what he was. A witch. Sebastian was going to be a lawyer, he probably wanted someone that smelled like some high end expensive cologne. He went to Harvard. According to his facebook he’d lived in Paris. And here Blaine was smelling like he’d just spent the day basking in incense like one of those new age people that people rarely too seriously. Blaine wished he’d just went out and bought something nice, maybe a little bit less of himself was better.

But, it was too late for all of that now. A sleek, dark vehicle was pulling into the parking lot and slowing down in the parking lot in front of him. He couldn’t quite make out who was inside, but his body sang with the knowledge. It was Sebastian. He took in a deep breath, gathered their drinks and stood to make his way towards the car. He shifted the drinks to one arm and opened his door, mentally preparing himself before sliding into the passenger seat.

Seb:

Sebastian woke up Saturday morning with a stomach full of knots, butterflies, pins, needles, and any other cliche phrase you could think of. Tonight was the night he was meeting up with Blaine, the night he had been thinking about every day since he asked. Sebastian had a list of things he needed to do in preparation, ever the procrastinator. He needed to go for a run with Enjolras, clean up, run to the pharmacy, pick out an outfit that said ”I didn’t spend an hour rummaging for this and I’m always naturally effortless”. Seb sat up, stretched, and ruffled Ras’ fur before getting out of bed. He made his pre run shake, put on his favorite blue running shorts, and stepped out into the June heat he loved with his pup in tow.

After a long run with the sun setting Sebastian’s tan skin with a satisfying blaze, he started on his errands. What felt like an hour of preparation, suddenly turned into four and he it was already five o’ clock. He Needed to meet Blaine at The Thinking Cup at 6. He really needed to get the outfit figured out and his cologne picked out (his mom bought him a different bottle of high end cologne every Christmas.) Seb settled on a white tee shirt that fit just right, hugging his biceps and chest in the perfect way to create the illusion of a little more muscle than he had, dark jeans, white slip ons, and black Ray Bans. Pomade swept through the hair, deodorant, and a few spritzes of Fucking Fabulous by Tom Ford, and we has out the door. Well, he gave Enjolras a good ruffle first and THEN was on his way in his sleek black car.

When sebastian turned down the road that the coffeehouse was on, he could see Blaine sitting at a little table. The golden evening sun lit up his curls just so, showing off just how black they were and Seb already knew that those honey eyes would be glowing in tandem. He turned down his music and slowed, approaching the curb. “Hey stranger.” Sebastian reached forward to help Blaine with the drinks. “Thanks for the tea. I’ve never had it from here before.” Small talk,really? He never planned hook-ups like this and he usually felt a lot more confident but, his stomach wouldn’t stop doing that….thing. Knots, butterflies, needles.

Sebastian cleared his throat, “How was your day? Ras is gonna be so excited to see you. Hasn’t stopped talking about you.” God. What? He was cringing on the inside, where did all the lines and sarcastic commentary go? Right outside the car door, in exchange for the intoxicating incense smell that surrounded him once Blaine entered. This was usually so much easier. A velvet smile, some compliments, a touch. Right, “You look great.” He reached over and placed his hand on Blaine’s knee, eyes on the road. Sebastian kept telling himself that this wasn’t new, he had done this over and over. Why did he have goose bumps?

Blaine:

Blaine bit his bottom lip when he saw Sebastian after getting into the car. Pictures were one thing, but seeing him again in person reaffirmed just how attracted he was to the other man. He looked incredible. The white shirt and white shoes setting his tan off just right. He also smelled incredible, a mix of sweat from the heat and a leathery soft floral scent that made Blaine want to press his nose into Sebastian’s clavicle just to breath him in better. Of course he couldn’t and didn’t but the anticipation of possibly being able to do just that later was thrilling.

“Hello to you, too.” He chucked at the use of the word stranger because they were, in fact, pretty much strangers. But it didn’t really feel that way. “We have pretty decent tea and coffee, I hope you like it.” He took a small sip of his as if that would prove it was good. “I had a decent day.” He glanced over at Sebastian still imagining what might happen later and worried his bottom lip again. “It’s much better now though.” In truth he’d spent his whole day nervous in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, but he didn’t think Sebastian needed to know that. He grinned when Sebastian mentioned the dog. “He’s been talking to you about me, huh?” He laughed. “I’m looking forward to seeing him, too though. I mean he is the reason we even met in the first place, I have to give him extra pets as a thank you.”

He wasn’t expecting it so when Sebastian laid his hand on Blaine’s knee he found it a little hard to breathe, had he even really touched Sebastian besides checking his hands? Either way the feel of his hand on his knee sent wave of want through his lower body which was almost embarrassing. It was such a simple act but at the same time it made it seem like they’ve done this before, like they hadn’t just met a few days ago. Blaine swallowed his lips curving in an almost smile at the green eyed man. “Thank you.” his voice came out slightly warbled and he cringed on the inside. “So do you.” without thinking too hard about it he slid his hand forward on his leg so that the tips of his fingers ghosted the inside of Sebastian's wrist, the simple touch leaving his fingers tingling and itching to do more. It was ridiculous, he knew it, but it didn’t matter. He watched the other man through his lashes, his eyes roaming over his face and settling on Sebastian's lips. He found himself wondering what they’d taste like later and had to look away before he embarrassed himself further.

“So, are we going to your place then? He asked when he found his voice again as Sebastian drove his car towards a Cambridge neighborhood that he’d never really been to. His anticipation probably showing right on his face, but at this point there wasn’t any point in hiding it.

Seb:

Sebastian’s wrist sparked where Baine’s fingertips dusted his skin, sending wildfire through his veins, making a few more goosebumps pop up in their wake. He wasn’t sure he ever felt such a chemical connection with somebody else. He had been attracted to many and went home with them and had fun, for the most part. But, this seemed different in a way that scared Sebastian. The tension in the air disrupting the cool demeanor he prided himself on by a simple touch he’d usually ignore and the scent of sandalwood and tea. He found himself scrambling internally, and wanting to impress Blaine. Sebastian never worried about that, he just effortlessly….did.

Sebastian turned down a crowded block, making his way towards his apartment. “Yeah, is that okay? I figured we could just...” He squeezed Blaine’s knee, trying to keep his fingers from tracing the inseam of his denim up his inner thigh. Normally he wouldn’t care but, what if it ran him off? Were they even on the same page? They had to be right? “Start the night off with a drink a little stronger than tea.” He was going to need one to calm his nerves, he wasn’t used to his stomach feeling like it was suspended in the air. Sebastian bit his bottom lip,trying to clear his mind. This was a hook up. This wasn’t new. He was used to this.

He could feel Blaine’s ochre eyes pressing into him. Yeah, they were on the same page.

Sebastian turned down a few more streets, driving for about ten minutes before parking before his red brick apartment building. He slid out of the driver seat and made his way around to open the passenger door. “This is it.” Seb threw his arm out before the lavish antique building. He loved it, the bricks covered in tangled ivy, the thick glass windows, and the stairs leading up to a heavy door. “I’m on the second floor.” He walked in front up Blaine, up the stairs and to his apartment. Once they walked up, Enjolras started pawing at the inside of the door and whining. Seb unlocked and swung the door open, an invitation for Blaine to walk inside and greet the hyperactive dog. He walked in after the other man, “I have some vodka, beer….there may some wine. Oh, and bourbon. What would you like? I have some soda-water and cranberry juice,too. To mix.”

Blaine:

Blaine’s knee tingled through his jeans where Sebastian had squeezed, his breath caught just so before he let out slowly. It was all he could do not to squirm. It was such a simple thing, but it sent surge of heat right between his legs. All he could do was nod, eyes finding Sebastian's again as the pulled up to a brick apartment building. Old, but not in the way tha LeFay was old, not creepy but beautiful. Inviting. Thought he wasn’t sure if it was inviting because he knew that’s where Sebastian lived or because of the atmosphere. Probably a bit of both. He instantly missed the feeling of Sebastian’s hand, but he knew there’d be time for more touching later.

As he entered the huge, open apartment he noted absently how simple and sleek it was before being greeted by and overly enthusiast Enjolras. Blaine smiled instantly down at the dog and scratched behind his ears. He was genuinely happy to see the golden retriever. He guided himself and the dog over to Sebastian navy blue sectional sofa and proceeded to pet the dog as if they had known each other forever.

“Bourbon, please. Just straight Bourbon. If it’s not too much trouble could you make it a double?” he cringed at his unintentional rhyme and shook his head to himself. Sebastian probably thought he was a huge dork who’d nver been to a boys house before with the way he was acting. He knew he shouldn’t drink too much but he really felt like he needed it, his nerves were still getting the better of him. He had dont this a few times before, but he’d never felt this much all at once. The dog settled in the vacant spot to Blaine’s right, head settling on Blaine’s leg which made him smile.

He took his drink when Sebastian brought it over to him instantly taking a sip and savoring the burn. “Thank you. What are you having?” He gestured vaguely to Sebastian’s drink. “Your home is lovely by the way.” the words felt strange on his tongue, almost forced. Not the easy conversations they’d been having while texting or the way they’d talked the day they met. He knew it was because they were both a little nervous, he could feel Sebastian’s rolling off him him subtly. And it made him feel better knowing that he wasn’t alone. Slowly he scooted a little closer to the other man so that his right knee pressed against Sebastian’s thigh just a bit. The contact instantly making him feel dizzy with want. Again, it was almost embarrassing but he didn’t move away.

Seb:

Sebastian slipped into the kitchen while Blaine and Enjolras headed for the couch. He liked that his dog enjoyed the other man so much. Ras liked,well, basically everybody he met but, he seemed to respond more to Blaine, constantly trying to get closer to him and revel in the scratches for as long as he was allowed. “Not a problem at all,” Sebastian poured what he thought looked like a double of bourbon for Blaine and then made himself a drink. He handed the bourbon over before sitting down with the other man. “Vodka cran.” Sebastian took a sip and looked at Blaine over the rim of his glass, eyes dropping when he felt a knee press into his thigh. He took a drink. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Sebastian reached out and pretended to fix the collar of Blaine’s polo, there was nothing wrong with it of course, he was immaculate. He let his hand drift down to press his palm flat against his chest,scooting a little closer. Sebastian took comfort in the rapid beat of the other’s heart under his hand before sliding to press his hand against the back of Blaine’s neck. The hair at the nape of his neck tickled Sebastian’s hand.

Blaine:

Blaine swallowed hard when Sebastian scooted closer to him. He knew his heart was pounding hard against his hand, but he couldn’t find it in him to care too much. This was the closest they had been so far and Blaine noticed something he hadn't noticed before. Sebastian’s top teeth had slight imperfections. He’d originally thought that the other teeth were perfect, but now he could see a crooked tooth that was so endearing it made Blaine sigh softly. Made him want to know Sebastian’s body even more. Blaine put his glass to his lips and managed to finish the whisky off with one long pull. He gently sat it down the table in front of them before turning his body so that he could face Sebastian, his knee sliding up onto the cushion. The dog forgotten.

“I’m glad, too.” His voice was hardly there when he spoke. He leaned into Sebastian’s touch, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling where long fingers rested against curls. Before he could talk himself out of it he slid his right hand up and rested it against the other man's jaw, his fingertips just ghosting over the sharp angle before trailing it to the back of his neck, gently pulling Sebastian to him. His stomach was knotted and anxious as he closed the short distance to Sebastian’s inviting lips and his own and kissed him. He gasped into the kiss, the sensation almost electrifying. His fingers curling against Sebastian’s neck and his eyes slipping closed. Before he could think more about what he was doing he found himself opening his mouth slightly, his tongue sliding along Sebastian’s bottom lip before licking inside. He whimpered into the kiss as his lips kissed harder. Slowly. Wanting nothing more than to show Sebastian how much he wanted to kiss him.How much he wanted him. His body pressed impossibly closer. His skin felt like it was on fire and his body felt tightly coiled, like each slip of the tongue would bring him one step closer to snapping apart.

Seb:

This was the moment when everything stopped. Shaking hands, desperation, and lust all culminating in a kiss. Sebastian’s anxieties left somewhere with his drink on the coffee table, his fingers knotting into Blaine’s hair as he opened his mouth into the kiss.

He had never been kissed like this before. A mix of tenderness and want that was more intoxicating than any shot he had ever taken. Sebastian felt like he was running straight down a hill, his legs moving faster than the rest of his body, bound to crash but too high on the adrenaline to care that much.

Seb gave Blaine’s curls a little tug and moaned into the kiss, nipping a little at the other man’s swollen bottom lip. He slid his hands down over his back, feeling firm muscles underneath course fabric. Sebastian pulled away for a moment, standing with his hands out in front of him,reaching for Blaine. “C’mon.” He started to walk backwards,towards the bedroom. Sebastian pulled Blaine in again for another kiss, his hands finally underneath that inconvenient polo, fingers ghosting over the other man’s stomach. He moaned a little when he felt the trail of hair that led into his jeans.

Blaine:

Blaine moaned small and breathy into Sebastian’s mouth when his curls were tugged, the sensation traveling straight down to his cock. He wanted nothing more than yank Sebastian back down onto the sofa and press him into the cushions so that he could keep kissing him. He almost actually pouted before realizing that Sebastian wanted him to follow him into the bedroom. He complied without hesitation fingers curling into Sebastian’s shirt when he was kissed again. He didn’t want to stop. Wouldn’t have except Sebatian was touching his stomach and suddenly Blaine needed that direct skin on skin contact all over. He reluctantly pulled back and without taking his eyes off of Seb pulled his polo and undershirt off letting red and white fabric hit the ground carelessly. Instantly he went back to Sebastian, pulling his taller body back to him so that he could kiss him again, a little messily, before moving to pull Sebastian’s shirt up and over his head, more white fabric joining the rest.

Sebastian was muscled lightly, his skin tan and smooth, with a dusting of freckles all over. It so different than Blaine’s own body. He used to be self conscious about his body hair, but shaving took too long. He was glad he didn’t bother because the little moan that left Sebastian’s mouth when he touched the hair just above his jeans delighted Blaine entirely. He ran his fingers down Sebastian’s now bare chest and stopped just above the button of his jeans. He looked up at Sebastian through thick eye lashes as he started to unbutton his jeans.

“Can I?” he wasn’t even sure what all he was asking permission for, to touch him? To see him? To breathe him? Everything, he wanted it all. He wanted to explore Sebastian in a way he’d never wanted to know anything before.

Seb:

Watching Blaine lift his shirt over his head was way hotter than Sebastian imagined it would be. How could such a simple act go right through him? He lifted his arms and let the other get rid of his shirt, not caring where it fell. “Yes, please.” Every little thing Blaine was doing was electrifying his entire body, making him ache in the best way.

Sebastian’s hands drifted up Blaine’s torso and then back down again. He slipped his fingers in the edge of his jeans to pull him closer before fumbling with his button and zipper. “God,” he gave a breathless laugh. Sebastian was struggling with the button and zipper because his hands were shaking with so much anticipation. He finally got the button undone, along with the zipper, and pushed the other man’s jeans down his slim hips.

Blaine stood before him in nothing but tight, black briefs. Sebastian bit his lip, hands finding their way back to those hips. He could see the outline of Blaine’s cock through the dark fabric and couldn’t stop himself from greedily pulling the briefs down his legs. “Jesus…” He breathed, taking in the sight of the man before him. Blaine was...blessed, to say the least. Sebastian put it eloquently by saying, “Christ you’re huge.” before laughing to himself and shaking his head. He pulled Blaine in by his hips for another kiss.

Blaine:

His breath hitched as the cool air hit his now naked body and he struggled with the urge to cover himself up. He didn’t though because Sebastian's eyes were drinking him in and it was enough to drive Blaine wild. He was achingly hard already. He smiled shyly up at the other when he mentioned his size, knowing that he was above average, but also worried slightly that Sebastian might not like that. He’d been told he was too much before and it didn’t feel great. But when Sebastian laughed gripped his hips and pulled him in for another kiss all of Blaine’s insecurities went out the window.

His eyes slipped closed as he kissed Sebastian. He’d never get enough of kissing him, he felt. His hands slid down his sides and rested back on Sebastian's jeans. They shook a little as he fumbled with the expensive material but he managed to push them off of slender hips along with the dark grey boxer briefs Sebastian wore, hugging tightly to his body. And then Sebastian was standing in front of him just as naked as him. He wasn’t huge but he was hard and heavy as Blaine reached out with shaking hands and ran his fingertips across the shaft. He was incredible. He had mile long legs that he knew would be strong from all the running he did and he couldn’t wait to feel them wrapped around him. “You’re perfect.” His voice was soft, almost not there as he looked up at the taller man, his free hand wrapping around Sebastian’s waist and pulling him closer so he could kiss him again. As he kissed him, he stroked just slightly before reluctantly pulling away and glancing at the bed. Sebastian had one of those trendy low to the ground attic beds which gave Blaine and idea.

He licked his lips as he maneuvered the two of them so that Sebastian had his back the side of the bed and he pushed his shoulders down just enough so that he would get the hint to sit down. Once Sebastian was sitting, Blaine got to lean down and kiss him for once. And then before he could second guess himself he was on his knees between Sebastian’s long legs. He looked up through his lashes and wetted his lips before leaning down and taking Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. He didn’t stop until his nose was nestled against musky hair. He paused there and inhaled through his nose, the scent so utterly manly that his own cocked twitctched with want. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian's lower body and tugged the other man closer, spreading his legs a bit more and slowly but firmly started to suck. His tongue swirling and lapping as he went. Little moaning noises muffled, but vibrating through Sebastian. His fingertips pressed into Sebastian’s hips, desperate to keep touching him.

Seb:

Nobody had ever called him perfect before. It was such a sweet remark for the two of them standing naked and panting, it was so ludacris and special that Sebastian smiled. Not just a small, casual smirk but, a big toothy grin. He didn’t know that he could be simultaneously turned on and laughing and giddy and hard. It was a ,perfect frenzy of emotions and sensations.

He let Blaine take control and guide them to the bed, sitting as was wanted. Sebastian liked it when his lovers took over but, it was rare. He was the one always expected to be smooth and educated and dominant. The firm press of the other’s callused hands on his shoulders gave him a shiver through his entire body.

The sight of Blaine between his thighs, big eyes looking up at him would have been enough but then, he was inside of his mouth and could feel his nose press into the hair at the base of his cock. Sebastian’s mouth fell open and his right hand went immediately into the other man’s black curls. “Fuck..” Blaine’s fingertips pressing into his hip bones hurt just right and he silently hoped he would have bruises in the morning, proof that this was actually happening. Seb’s hips bucked into Blaine as he tugged on his hair. “Blaine…” He brought his free hand to grip the other’s shoulder. Sebastian felt embarrassingly close, far too quickly but, everything Blaine was doing was unholy. “I don’t wanna...not yet.” Sebastian put both hands in the other’s hair. “Kiss me again. Come here.” His voice was too breathy, too high and his hands were betraying his want, tremoring. Sebastian lifted his legs up on the bed and pushed himself back, eyes locked on amber.

Blaine:

Blaine closed his eyes when Sebastian tangled his fingers in his curls, his rhythm faltering a bit. He reluctantly pull his mouth away instantly missing the heaviness against his tongue. He licked his lips, nodded and stood up on shaky legs as he watch Sebastian move himself back on the bed. For a second Blaine couldn’t move, he just watched Sebastian lay himself back against the pillows, the words ‘kiss me again and come here’ making something in his stomach flip. He felt a tightness in his body as he crawled onto the bed and in between Sebastian’s legs. He let himself rest against Sebastian’s warm body, his cock resting against the Sebastian’s stomach as he let himself touch Sebastian's face gently, his eyes meeting a wall of green blue before closing the distance between his swollen lips and Sebastian’s. He let his eyes close again, his hips rocking against the other just a bit as he kissed the man under him, slowly and deeply. Like they’d been lovers for years. He placed on hand next to Sebastian’s head and the other still traced faint lines over his jaw.

After a few minutes of kissing him he pulled back just enough and whispered in a raspier voice. “Where do you keep your stuff?” He wasn’t trying to rush this, but he wanted to press himself as close to Sebastian as he could. He wanted to stamp this night in his mind forever because he doubted he’d ever feel this good with another man again. From the first kiss he’d felt it, the knowledge that this could be so much more than a not strings hookup. The thought alone terrified him, it was dangerous and he almost feared he'd be ripped away before even getting to move with Sebastian at all. “I have one, but it’s on the floor and I-I don’t want to let you go…” He trailed off, embarrassed.

Seb:

Sebastian let his legs fall open to accommodate Blaine. “That’s cute,” he said,a small smile lilting on his lips. But, of course this guy brought a condom, tucked into his jeans pocket. “It’s in the bed stand drawer. Here…” He reached over,stretching as much as he could with Blaine laying on top of him, and pulled the drawer open. Sebastian’s hand fumbled inside for a moment, it was an awkward angle, before bringing out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He set them on the bed and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “I don’t want you going anywhere,” Sebastian tilted his head and gave Blaine a kiss on the jaw, stubble scraping against his lips. He brought a hand to clasp against the back of Blaine’s neck, thumb threading through the fine hairs there, his lips falling from jaw to neck to chest.

“Is this okay?” Sebastian paused his kissing to look at Blaine, meaning their position. “I just really, really want to feel you inside of me.” Sebastian lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, the press him closer. He loved how heavy Blaine’s cock felt against his stomach, the scrape of his stubble on his skin, the smell of incense and sweat hanging in the air, and the rough skin of his hands. He nipped at a spot under the other’s clavicle, “Please?” A devilish smile played across his mouth.

Blaine:

Blaine's cheeks heated up when Sebatian called what he’d said cute and he bit his bottom lip, trapping a smile behind his teeth. He watched Sebastian as he fumbled in the drawer to get what they needed. He closed his eyes as the other man kissed his neck and chest and sighed contently, allowing a moment to enjoy just being near him. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” he mumbled as he pressed another kiss to Sebastian's lips. He rolled his hips slightly as if to indicate that this was how he wanted it. “Yes, it’s perfect. As long as you don’t think it’s too much…” He looked down at his cock trapped in between them to indicate what he meant.

He swallowed hard as he reached for the lubrication, his hands shaking as he maneuvered himself slightly so that he was putting weight on his knees mostly. The weight of Sebastian’s long leg wrapped around him making it a little more difficult and not just because he didn’t have much range of motion, but because Blaine couldn’t wait to feel digging into his back… He licked his lips and didn’t break eye contact as he coated his index and middle finger on his right hand. His shifted his hips a bit to allow access for his hand. Gently he traced the tight ring of Sebastian’s entrance with middle finger, coating him so that Sebastian could be as comfortable as possible. He kept his eyes locked on Sebastian’s, asking for permission as he slowly slid two fingers inside of him until they were pressed flush against him, the pressure on Blaine’s fingers alone sending more heat straight to his own cock. He pressed in over and over, making sure to twist them just so, his eyes still never leaving Sebastian's. He couldn’t look away, wanted to see all of his facial expressions. Wanted to see that smirk change into something more. “Does that feel good?” His voice was hardly there yet deep with arousal.

Seb:

“No! No.” Sebastian knew he sounded way too eager but, was so turned on by Blaine’s size, body, voice,hands touch that he wasn’t going to turn him away now. He took a deep breath and adjusted his body, nodding to the other man before his fingers entered him. Sebastian winced for a moment, breathing out of his nose, the pit of his stomach pooling with excitement. He could feel himself stretching, stinging leading into pleasure. His lips parted, small pants escaping between them. Sebastian arched his back and let his leg fall from Blaine, choosing to spread his legs further apart in invitation for more. “Fuck...yes!” Sebastian’s voice was all heavy breath. “Yes, it feels so good.” He huffed a small laugh, pleasure betraying him with a moan.

Blaine:

“Yeah?” Blaine’s lips curved into a slow smile as he listened to the other man. He could feel Sebastian’s muscles clenching around his fingers and could hardly hold back his own moan. The way Sebastian was spreading himself open for Blaine was so hot he almost came right there. He was open and waiting and it was all for Blaine. Blaine was doing this. He leaned forward and kissed the laughing moan from Sebastian's lips as he added his ring finger, his thumb gently caressing at the underside of Sebastian’s balls as his thrusts and curled his fingers upwards a few times more before pressing them in deep one last time and then withdrawing them slowly. He lifted up and sat back on his heels, his knees spread apart just enough to keep Sebastian open. His hands shakily opening the box of condoms and taking one out. He opened it with shaking hands and managed to slide it on himself, the simple touch sending shivers down his spine. He reached for the lubrication once more and coated his cock thoroughly not wanting to hurt Sebastian. He leaned forward, his hand resting above Sebastian’s head, his other one gently guiding his cock towards Sebastian. He whispered the words into Sebastian’s ear his teeth nipping just so at his ear lobe. “Tell me when you’re ready…” His voice was still raspy and shaky.

Seb:

Sebastian couldn’t do much besides gasp and moan while Blaine worked him open. He whimpered when Blaine removed his fingers, only to moan again when he sat up to prepare himself. Seb greedily watched Blaine, could feel his knees pressing into his legs to keep them open. He sighed heavily and nodded when Blaine leaned forward, the other’s crystal quartz scraping delicately against his chest. He was going to like that. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything.” The pillow dipped by his head where Blaine pressed his palm to support himself. Seb turned and kissed his wrist before gripping it,placing his other hand on the nape of his neck.

Blaine:

Blaine licked his lips at Sebastian's words, a thrill running through him when his wrist was kissed and then grabbed. He liked thinking that Sebastian was using him as support. Slowly he used his free hand to press the top of his cock into Sebastian’s entrance, the tight ring of muscles rejecting him at first until he pushed a little harder. Sebastian’s tight pressure greedily taking him in. It wasn’t until he had buried himself all the way inside Sebastian that he realized he wasn’t breathing. He let his breath out whining breath, “Fuck Seb-” his breath caught again unable to finish his train of thought as he looked down at the others lust blown eyes. He pressed his forehead against Sebastian’s while he waited for his lover to accept accept him and relax. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him, even though he knew it probably did a little. He was just hoping it was the good kind of ache and burn. “You okay?” He asked softly, his hand coming up to rest on Sebastian’s jaw, his thumb caressing softly as he slowly began to thrust inside of him. Gently. Asking.

Seb:

Sebastian sucked in a breath that turned into a moan as Blaine entered him. His forehead creased and he bit down on his bottom lip. It hurt, his body throbbing. Sebastian took another breath and nodded, the throbbing turning into a satisfactory burn. “I’m great.” Sebastian murmured,turning his head into the hand on his jaw, feeling the other’s body gently rock into him. Not before long, his body was reacting without his control. Sebastian’s hips moved in tandem, his back arched, little moans and pants falling between them. He gave Blaine’s wrist one last squeeze before gripping his ass with Both hands, legs coming up even more to push him deeper inside. “God…”

Blaine:

Fueled by Sebastian's hands gripping his ass he tucked his knees up under Sebastian’s thighs, spreading both of their legs more in the process so that he could slide in deeper. He’d feel it in his thighs tomorrow, the ache. But right now he didn’t care, in fact, he wouldn’t care tomorrow either. He wanted to keep all of the memories from tonight. His fingers gripped the pillow next to Sebastian’s head, and he used it for leverage as he pulled and thrusted deeper and harder each time. The sound of skin on skin filling the air. It was a filthy lewd sound and it was all Blaine could do to not come just like that. Blaine mumbled almost to himself, grunting softly with each hard thrust, his hips pressing as deep a he could before pulling out, and all but slamming back in again. “Fuck...C-can you come like this? Do I need to…” he meant to ask if Seb needed touched in order to come but lost the words. Blaine meant to move his free hand from his jaw to wrap around Sebastian’s cock, but he didn’t make it past his neck, he’d gotten distracted but the cords and muscles straining. His fingers curled around the back of his back, his thumb pressing gently into his long, freckled throat without thinking. “You feel so good… So open.” He moved his mouth down and licked the long expanse of his neck, his thumb stroking his Adam’s Apple just so. Blaine sucked gently on Sebastian’s chin before licking almost dirtily back into his mouth again, kissing him deep and slow in time with each thrust. He pulled back and looked down into Sebastian’s face, desire written all over his own. “Want to watch you.”

Seb:

Sebastian was feeling too much, but trying so hard to last just a little longer. There was the scent of their sweat and the memory of cologne, the slap of their bodies moving together, the sheets getting pulled off of the mattress, Blaine’s harsh breath, his thighs burning with exertion, Blaine fucking him so completely into the mattress he wasn’t sure where his body ended and fabric began.

“You,” Seb panted, “feel fucking..h-huge…” the words broke off into a moan. He wasn’t sure he could say anything else. The combination of Blane’s filthy words and his mouth and hands on his throat were only iliciting moans.

Seb nodded when Blaine pulled away to watch, his eyes falling closed. He could feel the knot in his stomach that he’d been holding start to unravel. His whole body felt taut, about to spill into a million pieces everywhere. Sebastian slid his hands up Blaine’s back, taking in the feeling of his muscles before tugging on his hair as he came in between them with an embarrassingly loud moan .

Blaine:

Sebastian’s words sent little tingles all over Blaine’s body. It was all he could do to keep himself from coming, but he held off because he wanted to watch his lover come first. Wanted to rock into him and hold him close as he came down. His eyes found Sebastian’s once more right before he got to witness Sebastian crash down, his muscles clenching around Blaine’s cock almost painfully. He was so fucking beautiful, Blaine didn’t want this to end. “That’s it, I got you.” His words were hardly there and were gasping as he fucked Sebastian slowly through his orgasm.

His whole body was shaking with exertion and his fingers gripped the pillow by Sebastian’s head so hard his fingers ached. The feel of Sebastian’s fingers in his hair pulling with just the right amount of pain made him moan low, almost a growl. He could feel the tight pull behind his navel, and he knew he was about to fall apart. He moved both of his hands down and wrapped them around Sebastian’s waist, angling him up just a bit and pulling him impossibly closer. Pressing Blaine’s cock in even deeper than before. He thrust once more, his lips finding Sebastian’s and he kissed him hard and slow like he was the most important person in the world and Blaine’s orgasm hit him so fast and hard he froze, his body rigid and shaking against Sebastian’s, moaning to loudly into his mouth. “I can’t- I…Oh, Seb-.” He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say but Sebastian’s name came out like a prayer. His brain malfunctioned and vision went blurry as he came down. When he could finally move, he rested his head against Sebastian’s sweaty neck, his nose nuzzling into his throat needily as he attempted and failed to steady himself. He felt as if he’d never get close enough.

Seb:

Sebastian gritted his teeth and moaned low, enjoying that Blaine was still using his body even though he was spent and covered in come. He kissed Blaine back, wondering absently if he would spend the night and kiss him just like this again in the morning but he could never say that out loud. Seb lay there breathing heavily with the weight of Blaine on top of him, their skin sticking together, reminding him that all of that really just happened. “You good?” Sebastian craned his neck a little bit. He could feel Blaine’s rapid breathing and jackhammer heart. Normally, this part of hooking up made him uncomfortable, and he made a show of getting out from under his partner and cleaning up. Seb found that he didn’t quite mind this. “Because I’m great.” He danced his long fingers across Blaine’s shoulders.

Blaine:

Once Blaine got himself under some form of control he looked up at Sebastian, his cheeks blazing red with shyness as he gently pulled out. He reached between them and pulled the condom off, gently leaning over and throwing it in the trash next to Sebastian’s bed. He tried not to think about why it might be there. But he knew he wasn’t the first to come home with him. And it drove him crazy thinking that he wouldn’t be the last. He moved slowly back over Sebastian scooting his body off of his, but not moving away. He laid himself facing Sebastian, is fingers dancing over Sebastian's hips before pulling him to him, his hands brushing up and down Sebastian’s thigh comforting. He knew they should clean up, but he was drowsy and spent and a little embarrassed with himself. “Are you… I mean, did I hurt you?” He asked quietly and bit his bottom lip. He knew he had lost some control with the other man underneath him. He couldn’t really help himself, his primal side coming out the moment he slid inside. “I feel good, so good. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good…” He stated, nuzzling his sweaty head into Sebastian’s pillow and then into his shoulder. His eyes fluttery and heavy. If Sebastian allowed it, he could sleep like this. Wrapped around the other man in complete comfort. But, Blaine didn’t know what Sebastian usually did now. Would he ask him to go? Was already crossing a line but cuddling him? He didn’t even think about the time, all he knew was that he didn’t want to leave. He was sated and comfortable and it felt good to be near the green eyed man. “Please, don’t make me go.” he was sure he hadn't said that last part out loud, but tensed when he knew he did. “I didn’t mean that. Well, I did, but I’ll go if you want me to.” He bit his lip suddenly embarrassed. “I’m not sure how this part works. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much…” He trailed off, not even thinking about what might happen if he stayed.

Seb:

Sebastian, to his surprise, didn’t mind Blaine getting close to him again and wrapping around him. “I’m not hurt.” Blaine’s fingers on his inner thigh tickled and felt extremely intimate. It was funny, they had just fucked but this was the part that felt the most private. “ I...yeah, this is like, the best night I’ve had in a minute. You’re….something,” Seb smiled.

“I’m not gonna make you leave.” The vulnerability in the other man’s voice catching him. Did his partners always feel like this or was something bigger happening? Sebastian shook his head and wrapped an arm around Blaine. “You don’t mind if I don’t shower, do you? I don’t think I could walk to the shower. “ He poked Blaine in the rib, trying to make him smile. “You may have made it to where I can’t run for a few days. I like it.” Sebastian laughed softly before a nice quiet fell over him. He felt sated and achy and hot, like he could sleep for days. Before he could say another word he started to drift off, his arm still wrapped around the other, his leg in between Blaine’s.

The last thing he saw were Blaine’s long eyelashes fluttering against his red cheeks.

Blaine:

Embarrassed Blaine ducked his head,trying to hide his face from Sebastian. It was dark now, but the June moon was washing over them through the window.”I just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.” Blaine felt a strange relief wash over him when Sebastian told him he didn’t have to leave.He realized he probably sounded pathetic, but in that moment he didn’t care.”No,I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind.” He blushed again, thankful that it was mostly dark in the room. He found himself smiling against the pillow anyway. ”I like that you’ll still feel me tomorrow. I know I’ll still feel you with each step.” He closed his eyes meaning to lean in and kiss his lover once more, but somewhere between the thought and the pillow he drifted off, his body more relaxed than it had been in years.His skin tingling where Sebastian’s bare skin touched him. The last thing he remembered was watching Sebastian smile and thinking how he could look at him all day and the feel of Sebastian's legs tangled with his own.

/fin.

#seblaine para #smut.#seblainepara #glee rp #carve your name into my bed post #seb.#sebpara #smsmythe

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peacefulheartfarm · 4 years ago

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Flavored Cheese

Have you considered flavored cheese in your home cheesemaking operation? Likely most of you are not making your own cheese. You’ll want to seek out some flavored cheeses from your local markets for a real treat. There are so many possibilities here that I couldn’t possibly cover them all in this short podcast. Today, I’ll give you just a brief overview of what you might consider in tasting and in creating with your cheeses.

Welcome new listeners and welcome back to the veteran homestead-loving regulars who stop by the FarmCast for every episode. I appreciate you all so much. I’m going to start off with what’s going on at the homestead and then I’ll get right into talking about some tasty flavored cheese.

Our Virginia Homestead Life Updates

I want to start off with talking about our herd share program. We are opening up our raw milk cheese herd shares to more people. One full share will provide you and your family with about two pounds of our hand-made, aged, raw milk cheese per month. A half share will provide about one pound of cheese per month. We have four varieties from which to choose.

Our Peaceful Heart Gold is a danish Havarti-style cheese. It is a washed curd cheese that is soft, buttery and the sweetest cheese we make. Moving from the mildest to the sharpest, the next in line is our Ararat Legend. This is also a washed rind cheese made in the Dutch gouda tradition. It is a firmer cheese than the Gold with nearly as much butter flavor. This cheese ages well and the flavor deepens with each passing month. The next two kind of tie for sharpest, depending on how long they have aged. We have a wonderful aged cheddar and an alpine-style cheese we call Pinnacle. The flavor complexities of these two cheeses are amazing as neither is even ready to taste until 9 months or more of aging. Well, we do offer the milder cheddar at three and six months, but you will definitely want to wait for the good stuff.

Details and costs can be found on our website at Peaceful Heart Farm dot com. Product pickup is available at the Wytheville Farmer’s market, the Independence Farmer’s market and from our homestead. Support us or some other local farm. Keep good food alive. Give us a call and we can get you set up.

Cows

We are on calf watch with Rosie. This event is happening far ahead of our expectations. Her udder is developing and filling with milk. It may be only a matter of days. You never really know, any more than you know for humans, when the exact date will be for the event. She is looking good and Scott and I are feeling pretty good about Rosie and her calf. We are still cautious and watching her very closely, but again, she looks really good right now. Buttercup is doing a good job of keeping Rosie company. She is our only cow that is not going to have a calf this year.

After Rosie, next up for giving birth is Cloud followed closely by Claire. Butter and Violet are much further down the line, due in May and June respectively. And as I said, Buttercup is not having a calf this year. If all goes well, we will end up with five calves this year. Praying for some heifers.

Goats and Sheep

The sheep are doing well. Their expected delivery date is the 27th of March, so about a month more for them. We are likely to have six to eight lambs this year.

The goats have been reduced to five. Yes, finally I got moving on reducing our goat population. We are moving more rapidly toward changing over to meat goats. If you are new, we currently have cashmere goats. I had this grandiose idea that I was going to have time to gather their cashmere, have it made into yarn, and knit up some wonderful cashmere items. It took a few years for me to realize that I was not going to have time to include yet another enterprise into our business model. By that time, we had well over twenty goats.

Now these wonderful animals are great at keeping the pastures cleared of brush, briars and small pine trees. So, we definitely want to keep a few of them around. However, it makes much more sense for our homestead to have meat goats. That way they can keep the pastures pristine and also provide more nourishment for our family. Later this fall we will process the final five goats. At that point we will be in the market for a small herd of meat goats. Right now, I am focused on Kiko goats but would probably consider Spanish goats.

Quail

A few days ago, Scott and I went over the costs of raising these great birds. It’s pretty expensive according to my year-end profit and loss statement. My first, knee-jerk reaction was to just stop raising quail. However, after waiting a couple of days, I decided to break down the actual cost and how much we are benefiting from the eggs and meat.

Back in 2006, Scott raised just short of 150 chickens in the Joel Salatin-type chicken tractors. He calculated that it cost a little over $1 per pound to raise those chickens. Our cost to raise quail is somewhere between $5.50 and $6.50 per pound of bird. However, there are also the eggs to consider. Scott and I sat down and tried to come up with a better comparison. If we had to buy eggs, what would be our cost? Subtract that from the total costs, based on four quail eggs per one chicken egg, and the rest of the cost divided by the approximate weight of the birds raised for meat. The bottom line is that we decided to give the quail one more season to prove their worth. I also decided to feed them a little bit less. They did seem to be putting on quite a bit of unnecessary fat so this seemed the first place to cut a little cost. We shall see what happens this year. I’m going to keep better records.

I’m still anticipating when we will be able to build our chicken facilities. It won’t be this year. The quail get a well-deserved reprieve.

Garden

I just received a couple of rolls of woven fabric ground cloth. Yes, we are about to get started on the garden. The biggest change this year will be the strawberry bed. I’ve order 500 bare-root strawberry plants. Yes, you heard that right. I ordered 500 plants. We are pretty much starting from scratch with our strawberries. I’m excited about this new opportunity.

I’m also going to start some plants for sale at the farmer’s market. If you are in my neighborhood, I should have some herbs, tomatoes and perhaps some green pepper starts ready for your garden. I’m not going to grow very many tomatoes or peppers this year but I really love growing plants. Growing for you guys seemed to be the best way to fulfil that desire to grow stuff. And I chose to grow some culinary herbs, because they are sometimes harder to find. I’ll keep you posted on which herbs I was successful in sprouting.

Flavored Cheese

Today want to talk a little bit about flavored cheese. If you’re making your own cheese at home, this could be a great adventure for you. On the other hand, if you’re just a real cheese head and love to try new cheeses, you might take a look at some of the cheeses available that have had either spices and seeds added or maybe they have herbs added, and some have been created using ale wine and/or spirits. You may even be able to find a cheese wrapped in leaves. These are just a few of the methods used to add various flavors to cheese. In this short podcast, I’ll be briefly touching on those flavorings that I just mentioned. There are others, but I’ll stick with these for today.

Seeds and Spices

The first flavoring I want to mention is seeds and spices. Your first thought when considering what seeds and spices to add should be the quality. You don’t want to use three-year-old dried herbs from your cabinet. Next, think of what you like. Now temper that with the thought that sometimes there’s a good reason that you haven’t seen that kind of cheese made. However, don’t let that thought stop you from experimenting. Sometimes it could be as simple as it not being economical to produce such a cheese on a commercial basis. If you’re making it in your own kitchen, the costs are much less of a factor. If you’re concerned at all, simply start with a combination that you’ve seen or tasted.

There are two things that you want to consider when preparing your experiment. Getting the right distribution and the size of the seed. I’ve seen lots of cheeses use whole peppercorns. Those are pretty big seeds so you would use less. On the other hand, if you have a small seed such as Caraway, you don’t want to put so many in there that you ruin the texture of the cheese. For a cheese maybe 2 gallons of milk, you are likely going to choose one to 3 teaspoons of your chosen seed or spice.

When you’re preparing your seeds and spices for addition to the cheese curd, you might consider boiling them for 5 to 10 minutes. There are couple reasons you might want to try that. If you suspect any kind of contamination or you want to soften a seed so that the flavors are more readily incorporated into the cheese.

Adding your seeds or spices can happen in a couple of different ways. Almost universally, the whey needs to have been drained. You don’t want to lose your spice with the whey. One of the easiest methods is to simply stir your seeds and/or spices into the drained cards. Another fun way would be to layer it in the mold. Put little curd in, add your spices, put more curd, add spices again and so on. You want to be careful with that method. There is always a chance that you will bunch your spices up too closely together and over spice one area while another would be under served. You may even have trouble getting the cheese to get together properly. The trade-off is the visual effect of layers.

Here are some of the most popular seeds and spices used in this method flavoring your cheese. I’ve already mentioned caraway seed and peppercorns. Other seeds might be mustard, fennel, fenugreek, or cumin. Some useful spices include cloves and red pepper flakes. Generally, you want to stay away from using herbs for aged varieties of flavored cheese. They will be prone to breakdown and change the color of your cheese. That’s not a good look. Herbs are most often used either mixed into a soft cheese or spread. Or lots of times you’ll see them used as a coating on the outside of a fresh, soft cheese.

Ale, Wine, and Spirits

This is a great way to create a flavored cheese. And ale or beer can be incorporated directly into the cheese curd in the same way that the seeds and spices were added. Wine and spirits on the other hand, work better on the outside. This is most commonly done in washed rind cheeses. I briefly mentioned wrapping a cheese in leaves. Using alcohol to macerate the leaves, that is to soak them for a period of time, prior to wrapping the cheese is a favored practice.

Adding beer or ale, similar to adding seeds, happens after the whey has been drained. When making cheddar, it can be added after the cheddaring process has been completed and the curds have been milled. Otherwise, simply stir into the curds after they have been drained. You don’t need much. I also think it would be hard to use too much. Whether you pour the whole bottle into the curds made from your 2 gallons of milk, or you use only a half cup for your cheese and save the rest for yourself, that’s up to you. I’ll use a whole bottle for 15 or 20 gallons of milk. But again, I don’t think you can use too much.

There are several things to consider when deciding to use wine or spirits on your washed rind cheese. Because you’re adding wetness to the outside of your cheese, you can be prepared for softening. Sometimes, for a softer cheese, you might let your cheese dry for 2 to 3 days. Then begin the wash. Or, for a harder, drier cheese such as an alpine style, you can begin the wash right away. Something else to consider would be experimenting with the frequency of washing and the humidity in your aging room. The hardness of the rind and the texture of the cheese will also influence what your final results are going to be with the washing. Obviously, the softer rind is going to absorb more of the flavors.

Wrapping Your Cheese with Leaves

Many flavored cheeses utilize some type of leaf wrapping. Sometimes the leaves are dry, but more often they have been macerated in a strong alcohol, such as brandy or bourbon. This is a wide-open field. Choose your favorite spirit, and parent with your favorite leaf. Some leaves to consider are chestnut, maple, or grape.

Not all leaf-wrapped cheeses use spirits. Nettle, sycamore, or walnut are good choices here. Like with the herbs, you don’t want them to break down and become mush.

I hope you enjoy your experiments whether in making the cheese or trying out a new cheese from your local market.

Final Thoughts

I hope you’ll give some thought to becoming part of our herd share program. We’d love to be of service to you. Come on out to the homestead and see where it all happens. Say hello to Claire and the rest of the girls. Pet the donkeys. Be sure to wear rugged shoes and/or boots. Animals are messy creatures and if it has rained, omg, the mud.

I hope I’ve titillated your senses a little and you’re on your way to trying some new flavored cheese. Whether you’re making it from scratch or buying from your local market, your enjoyment is sure to be mooua, superb.

If you enjoyed this podcast, please hop over to Apple Podcasts or whatever podcasting service you use, SUBSCRIBE and give me a 5-star rating and review. If you like this content and want to help out the show, the absolute best way you can do that is to share it with any friends or family who might be interested in this type of content. Let them know about the Peaceful Heart Farmcast.

Thank you so much for stopping by the homestead and until next time, may God fill your life with grace and peace.

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vondehnvisuals · 4 years ago

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Hello every One, welcome to the Terrific Two’s Day Edition of the Good News Journal, thank King You for being here. It is a Terrific Two’s day despite the fact that I did not get a Blog Post Writ yesterday for the first time in over three months. I was busy with other things and kept insisting I would Write My Post after so that I could Show some of the Magical Crafts I am war King on. My more serious work is out of the Way for now, this is Fun Magic.

Pictured below is a Sacred geometric paper Pyramid, exact scale to that of the Giza Pyramid in Egypt. I still have this Idea for creating pyramid shaped plant pots, just because I am not tall King about it does not mean the Idea has disappeared, it is still war King its Magic in the background of My conscience. In My last efforts (which a raccoon has partially destroyed), I discovered that the Egyptian’s understanding of Sacred geometry actually makes creating a blueprint for a perfect geometric pyramid relatively easy. The Secret of the Sacred Circle; 360 Degrees; 360=3+6+0=9. 9 is the Trick, remember, it’s just 6 upside down. 6 is the Secret of the Sacred geometry of the Giza Pyramid. Let Me Show You what I mean, as this was one Creative Project yesterday.

I had been Visualizing all of these Ideas in My Mind, now was the time to put them to the test and I Will explain the Motive A Sean behind this project later in the Post. All four sides of the pyramid are perfect triangles, all three sides equal (isosceles, maybe? or equilateral?). Haha, turns out both are correct, though isosceles is more accurate, the other only means two sides are equal. Crazy I can remember any of that from high school, that would have been the last time I remember using it. Anyway, what I am about to Show You I Visualized entirely in My Mind, first. Turns out it was a pretty Good Idea.

The little extra bit left over at the bottom of each triangle is folded underneath to stabilize the base. I used all purpose paper/wood glue to seal the edges together. This time, I’m going to try re-purposing a plastic bag to line the inside filled with earth before I configure a bottom for it. Then, I’ll cut a hole in the very top just big enough to water, (and for the seed I Wish to plant), and I’ll only need to punch holes in the bottom for drainage. I’ve got other Ideas, too, but that’s how I Plan to put this blueprint to use for My Self and My plant collection.

But that’s not the only Magic I was up to yesterday. I have never made guacamole from scratch but I love the stuff, though its one of those things One never really thinks of until it’s in front of them. Well, I saw a container of guacamole in the store and thought it would be amazing on cheese bread but it was a tiny container for a ridiculous price. I decided to make My own, I only needed to pick up cilantro for the recipe.

King’s without Queen’s guacamole recipe

A bunch of cilantro, fresh

Four chili peppers (I used heat factor 6.5, jalapenos by comparison are 5, use to heat preferrence)

Organic, grape tomatoes (3/4 of a pint container)

One lemon (juice only)

One large, white or spanish onion to taste preferrence

3 Avocados, RIPE (should feel soft inside if squeezed gently)

A few large cloves of garlic (also to taste preferrence)

Make sure the cilantro, peppers, onion and garlic are super finely chopped. One could probably even blend them if they Wish. Same goes for the tomatoes, though some People like to leave the tomato just a little less finely chopped to add texture. All seeds are also removed from the chili peppers. Leaving them in Will affect both the heat of the guacamole’s spice level and the texture (who Wishes to eat seeds in their guacamole?).

Okay, so one major ingredient I forgot was black pepper. There should be a Good tablespoon at least, as much as two depending on taste. This was amazing! However, there is room for improvement. I had a lemon already, so I tried a lemon instead of traditional lime and it is suggested in some recipes. This recipe would be better with lime instead of lemon and I could personally stand more peppers or hotter peppers, otherwise the texture and taste was outstanding.

These cheese buns were warmed in the oven first, then My Sandwich (Witch) Fantasy was made Manifest. Mmm… So Good.

But, the day didn’t stop there. I save seeds from virtually everything, so the avocado seeds were no exception. I can have up to three new plants happening in six weeks or so, and avocado plants are quite Visually impressive house specimens even if they never bare fruit. So I decided to make the project more Fun by painting the seeds.

So, what’s really going on here? Well, Truth be told I’m just a big little kid who Loves little creative projects and have a fascination with plants, especially growing things from seed. I am also thing King about how Fun it would be to do these projects with children and how much Fun it might be for My niece and nephews. I discovered Canada Post sells boxes that don’t go by weight – whatever You can fit inside the box ships! I am trying to think of some Fun things I can send to My nieces and nephews next month. So far, they Will receive three pyramid blueprints with instructions on how to put them together and three avocado seeds painted specifically for each of them with holes already punched and spears ready to go. I’m also going to include a little fantasy legend about the seeds being from a Magical tree known as the Dragon Tree, the seeds are Called Dragon eggs and they hatch if suspended over water for a few weeks but must be tended to carefully. I think they Will like it a lot and I am thing King My brother Will approve. This is in addition to three colouring pages they Will receive, one side coloured by Me, another side free to colour for them.

And despite all of this busy activity yesterday which made Me very excited to sit down and Write a Post to share all of My Good News with You last night, Gigi came home after having a run in with the neighbourhood skunk. She’s seen him before, I told her “NO! Leave it alone”, she listened. Until I was not around to tell her not to, apparently.

On the upside, I tried to bathe her once before and she was not having it. This time, it was like she knew she stank and didn’t know what to do about it. She seemed as sad and defeated as she looks in the photo above. She did splay her claws and clutch each side of My chest with them fiercely as I held the scruff of her neck in the kitchen sink and used My other hand to gently wash her with dish soap and baking soda. Unfortunately, the worst part is the top of her head and she was only putting up with Me because I hadn’t got her face wet yet. I looked at her dead pan in the eyes, “Don’t hate Me, We need to do this, Your head is going under the tap for a moment, be tough!”

I ripped her away from My chest before she had a chance to comprehend what I might be telling her but that was the final straw, though she was Good enough for long enough to get her head wet, soaped up, and rinsed before she finally escaped the sink. Then it was truly a moment to Savour as I held up the towel and looked at her, scoffing at Me, “So, You want this nice big fluffy towel, or You Wish to scowl and be angry with Me for the rest of the evening?”

She looks at Me like she hates Me and Loves all at once. She knows I know she can’t resist the towel, and she knows I know how angry she is with Me. But the towel wins and soon she is between My legs, purring and getting toweled off.

So that’s My excuse for not Writing yesterday. Told You it was a Good one!!!

Love and Blessings,

Volume CXX: The Terrific Two’s Day Edition; A Wizard’s Craft Hello every One, welcome to the Terrific Two's Day Edition of the Good News Journal, thank King You for being here.

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clove-teasdale · 7 years ago

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change of scenery

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: super late practice challenge two! just posting because it’s kinda relevant to character backstory. i hate my new schedule :) hopefully, this isn’t too big of a mess, sorry if it is <3 Thanks, @claraeclair @phaniecastello and @ladyallegrahannon for the plane rp.There’s also a tease for an rp with @brooks-schreave at the end, but the full rp will be in a separate fic later.

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

When I tried going downstairs for water I heard my parents’ voices in the dining room. It might seem stupid to assume an argument was happening without even understanding the words being said, but by this point, I just know. Otherwise, I would have heard the rustle of utensils against plates or mugs. The occasional laughter. My dad’s amused voice. My mom's soft chuckle.

Lately, they’ve been arguing more and it kind of makes sense considering I will be leaving soon, no longer to be a part of the family trio we are. Whether it be to become a film student or a possible future lady, only time will tell. I considered eavesdropping, slowly making my way down the staircase, but after the palace was mentioned alongside my name I realized I was somehow weaved into the whole discussion and headed back upstairs as fast as silent steps enabled me.

Now I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling, music flooding my ears, but it's not enough to drown my thoughts away. That means it’s time to let out some steam. I sit up and cautiously glance at the door like someone will barge in any second. As usual, the door remains unopened and I walk to my closet to grab a jacket. My cell phone is carefully placed in a zipper inside it as I lock the door, ensuring no one will be able to come in while I'm gone. The last thing to do is turn off the lights and whoever passes by will assume I'm asleep and keep walking

Then I go to my balcony, taking in some fresh air as I watch autumn leafs fall gracefully. Seems like a perfect night...would be a pity to spend it in my room sulking.

Better sulking with the stars.

I let my hand trace the railway around the balcony, feeling the cool of the metal under my grip before pushing myself up and swinging my legs past it to jump into the night.

The wind is cold against my skin when I’ve been running for a while, but I welcome it with a smile. The heat of going around the province jumping over dumpsters and climbing fences makes the air refreshing. Eventually, I reach the abandoned building I usually go to and make my way up the fire escape ladder. On the roof, the adrenaline slips away and sit in my spot, legs dangling over the darkness of the streets below as I stare at the darkness of the sky above.

It is well known the less populated areas of the city are the best for stargazing, especially past curfew when everyone’s supposed to be in their houses. I’ve had an encounter with policemen only once for being out after hours and running away from them into alleyways was both thrilling and horrifying. If word of that had gotten out, however, every magazine would’ve talked about it. Thankfully I’d kept enough distance not to be recognized with a hoodie as I ran.

After I finally catch my breath and my thoughts settle, the overwhelming feeling comes. A few years ago I thought I’d never want to leave Columbia. That I’d miss the comfort of home, of what I knew, what I was used to...even my family as fragmented as it was sometimes. The past few months that has changed. Not because there aren’t still good moments, but because I’m done with it all. I need a break.

Today I wish I could just leave.

I steal some popcorn from Wilson as he sits on the floor. He's trying to pick the movie we’ll watch when "The Report" is over. Meanwhile, Mrs. Grayson, aka Wilson’s grandmother, is chatting it up with my parents in the living room. It's always nice to be invited to dinner at her house. It has that comfy feel to it and it's where I get to call Wilson by his first name. According to him, his dad was an even bigger nerd than himself, hence the Star Trek reference on it. Sometimes he seems embarrassed by the fact, but I know he's fond of the memory he has of his dad.

On screen, Nate is starting to pick out envelopes with names, but even though his smile is on point, it’s pretty obvious he’s not really focused on what he’s saying. It's good to see even he gets hit by nerves on camera.

“He’s on C’s now,” Wilson points out as he spares me a glance.

I flip over a CD box in my hand to read the synopsis and pretend not to care that Colombia’s Selected will be announced soon. “I know the alphabet, Geordi.”

He rolls his eyes with a sigh but focuses on reading a synopsis of his own. I stare back at the TV then. I can’t believe how much I want this now. I want to be Selected.

Soon enough they’re in our province and Nate takes out a card from the chosen envelope. I’m not sure if I see recognition on his face, but the name that comes out of his mouth is unmistakable.

“Clove Teasdale.”

Wilson yells a “WHAT?” as he looks back at the screen and my photograph appears. A grin spreads across my face as my head wraps itself around the news.

“I’m in.”

Humanity is stupid and cruel, that’s a fact. A fact only some manage to avoid and yet it's not avoidable for long. You slip up. You mess up. You suck sometimes. I suck sometimes. Thing is if you notice it. If you change it. My dad? He’s probably never going to be able to change and become prince charming for my mom. Do I think that’s good? No. Will I shut him down for that? No. Will I accept the “I’m being nice today because I was an idiot with your mom earlier and started a discussion” tea? Also no.

I take a sip of it though. “Why are you offering me yours?”

“You said you’re not going for yours until later...and the water might get cold again if you wait. I can go for more right now,” he states with a shrug.

Usually, my dad is the kind of person that would ask me to get him his tea. Especially if I’m ‘not busy’.

“So you’re actually saying you’re gonna give me yours, go back to the kitchen, and then serve yourself another cup?” I ask. He doesn’t notice my hidden skepticism.

“Yeah, your mom heated water for herself. I heated what remained in the teapot after washing the dishes.”

And there it is. “You washed the dishes, huh?”

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s not a big deal. Either he doesn’t know I notice his biggest guilt-tell or he doesn’t realize it’s a major tell. Or maybe he denies it to himself. “There’s more water so you can keep my cup.”

Okay, fact about myself: I’m a lazy teen sometimes. But then again, aren’t we all? I don’t really want to get up for a tea I never planned to have, however, tea is nice. Now I want it and here’s my dad standing in front of me, offering me one that’s already prepared. I’m sort of in the middle of watching a movie. A major bad guy just turned out to be one step ahead of everyone so this might not be a bland one after all. Forgive me if I don’t want to go all the way to the kitchen for a drink right now.

That line of logic makes me want to accept his tea, but it’s prepared like he likes it and it’s an ‘I’m-compensating-out-of-guilt’ tea. After a silent debate that takes a matter of seconds I offer him the cup back. “I’ll just go in a few minutes to get my own, but thanks.”

He takes it and reminds me the water will get cold. I point out I don’t really mind if my drink isn’t burning with the intensity of a thousand suns like he and mom like theirs to be and he leaves.

My farewell was fun with how flashy Columbia decided to be with its parade and I managed to pull off the “inspirational, I’ll be amazing at this and make you proud” speech, but saying goodbye was probably the hardest part. Going on trips with my parents wasn’t the same as going alone. Still, even with the nostalgic feeling of leaving, there was excitement. The kind of excitement that makes you nervous at the same time.

Dad seemed a bit sad to watch me leave but smiled all around. Mom gave me a long pep talk, but I know I’ll miss those long conversations. Even Wilson surprised me with a hug out of nowhere yet for once I didn’t mind. I’d miss him too. Now it was time to actually interact with people I don’t know.

A blonde girl is standing alone at the airport with a plate I realize is filled with cookies when I arrive. Usual greetings happen except they involve skeptically staring at cookies. It turns out she actually made them for us and I can’t help but hesitate to take one. Even if she looks like the living personification of a cupcake, taking food from strangers seems inadvisable. The cookies look okay, don’t get me wrong, but Dad’s attempts at cooking look pretty good too until you taste them. I stare at the cream frosting for a while before taking a small bite, feeling the sugar pretty quickly. “Oh, they're not bad.”

I keep eating as she talks. Turns out her name is Clara Èclair so either her parents were really into tongue twisters or they were obsessed with alliteration. She almost gets my name right, but I decide to laugh at the mistake.

“It's Clove actually, but close enough.”

“Oh no! Guess my flashcards didn't work as well as I thought.” She giggles at her own words but I wouldn’t put it past her to be serious about flashcards hid somewhere in her clothes. I’m almost sure the third girl that arrives is Stephanie Loretta, the daughter of an old, infamous Selected.

She’s more eager than I was to accept the offered cookie and the fact that Clara gets her name right on the first try further strengthens my suspicion that she made actual flashcards. The exchange of greetings, cookies, praise, and gratitude go too fast for me to follow so I just wave at Stephanie and contribute to the conversation when I’m able to. When we’re finally done waiting for the last girl--that turns out to be named Allegra--we board the plane.

As interesting as the clouds outside the plane window are it’s hard to ignore the sick look on Clara’s face once we take off, so I remove my headphones again and mumble, “You okay?” That gets the attention of the other girls, who quickly get concerned for some reason.

“I've just never been on a plane before,” Clara admits. “I’m a little nervous.”

Allegra goes with the “it’ll be okay” attempt at comfort while Stephanie goes to the extreme of... maybe getting medicine for some reason? I wave the suggestion aside and lean closer to the edge of my seat. “She just needs to calm down.”

Clara seems to agree with me on that, but when Allegra suggests water she declines, saying maybe a cookie will be better since sugar might calm her down. I don’t think Clara was the best at chemistry class.

“This is a nicer tin can than you think, don't worry too much about it,” I say, reaching for another cookie and leaning back on my seat. “Think of it as a means of transport. Like a car per say. You're not scared of cars, are you? Sure, things can go wrong in both, but the probabilities of it are slim so you don't worry about it when you get in a car. Why should you worry about it on a plane?”

My words seem to work and she goes into a ramble that boils down to “There's nothing to actually worry about.”

I take a bite of my cookie with a “Mhmm” as Stephanie tells her the first time is the hardest one. Somehow that leads to Clara realizing she’s a Three now and yet again her scattered thoughts lead to her complimenting each of us.

Apparently, I could be an excellent queen because I’m level-headed. Also, Allegra is regal and Stephanie sweet enough for all the people to love. I can’t help but blink a couple of times at her sudden praise for each of us and swallow the piece of cookie I was chewing on. “Glad you think so..”

They chat for a while after that about how their nerves got a better hand over their sleep. That makes Allegra mention we have a couple of hours as she looks down at her wrist, but there is nothing to look at. “Darn I forgot my watch.”

“That's probably going to be the most annoying thing of being here,” Clara mutters, though it’s unclear if that was only meant for herself to hear. “Slowly noticing we forgot little things like watches.” She has some pretty weird concerns.

As if we haven’t had enough 180 degree changes in our conversation, Allegra suddenly mentions, “It’s scary to think we might not be the same people at the end of this.”

“Now I’m not feeling as better,“ Clara mumbles.

Well, this is getting deep. “At least you didn't forget your watch like Allegra. True tragedy there.”

Make overs were done as soon as we got to the palace but with my hair already short and well kept, there wasn’t much of a drastic change for me.

The next day I decide to wake up early to scout the palace with no one around, only a few maids or butlers to be seen and none of my own maids in my new room making suggestions of what I should wear.

When I arrived yesterday I realized I barely remember this place. Though it has been a while since I’ve visited. Being too busy with school work was the excuse I came up with to avoid trips to the palace as I got older--when arguing in front of me became less of a problem for my parents.

The years haven’t made this building any less admirable fortunatly, so I walk in silence across the halls until I find the library. Even if you’re not an avid reader it’s one of the nicest areas here. It’s peaceful and there are books about basically everything you can think of.

My fingers glide over the old hardcovers, but I stop when I see a leather one with golden letters on it’s spine. I know you’re not supposed to judge books by their exterior, but every now and then I find it fun to judge covers as something completely seperate of their story. The empty spot the book leaves on the bookshelf, however, reveals something I was not expecting to see yet. Someone.

I can’t help but gasp at the sight of Brooks standing on the other side, flipping through a book casually. I duck before he gets a chance to see me, then roll my eyes at the luck I’m having. Why is he even up so early?

I don’t move for a while, hoping he will find it odd, but won’t question it. A few seconds go by and I start walking away, careful with my footsteps. I don’t need an encounter with Mr. snobby-pants right now.

Why couldn’t I bump into Nate or Quinn? Heck, even Max would’ve been better than him. Just when I think I’ve been saved from having a meet up with the second prince, my back hits a stack of books on a desk and they fall to the ground.

Shoot.

#((SORRY I POSTED SO LATE RIP))#((only read if you have time <3 ))#practice challenge two #//fics #teasdale's tag #wilson tag #clara tag #allegra tag #steph tag #brooks tag #selectionoc

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arplis · 5 years ago

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Arplis - News: Week 23: Farewell to My Fabulous Fifties- The Wabi Sabi Edition

Happy Monday! We are well into Fall and I am happy to be getting into the more “homier” aspects of my bucket list. I’m wrapped in a warm blanket, I’m wearing fuzzy slippers and I’ve got a fall scented candle burning. So let’s dive right into the messy but beautiful leaf pile that makes up life and take a look at this week’s progress. Kicking it off with a big check-mark on completing that wonderfully complicated puzzle! I have to give a shout out to Mike and Sammi here because they were intrigued enough to join me and together we knocked it out in a couple of days. It was fun, challenging and unique and I would definitely try another puzzle made by this company. Loved working on this with Mike and Sammi. Fun seeing how the unusually shaped pieces ended up fitting together. My Duolingo streak continues, currently at level 982 and I have a 794 day streak going. Classes at Alliance De Francais of Detroit continue. I am thoroughly enjoying it and I know I’ve made definite progress. We are ready to advance to the next book soon and the course will have more emphasis on conversation than it has in the past. This is exactly why I took a class in conjunction with my other efforts as, despite being passably familiar with vocabulary, being able to read and understand the simple spoken word, when it comes to conversation, I get stage fright! So send positive vibes my way because I’ll need ’em! Let’s talk about bucket-list item # 22: Bake a loaf of bread from scratch. I purchased all of the items I’ll need to make bread, according to the book “Flour Water Salt Yeast: Fundamentals of Artisan Bread and Pizza (Deana’s bread bible). Deana so kindly gifted me this book and a proofing basket. I only needed a more detailed set of measuring spoons that included 1/16th tsp, a kitchen scale, a kitchen thermometer, a dutch oven and dough tubs. I was able to obtain all items from Amazon. Looking forward to giving this a try! I know I won’t be getting to this until next week, so I’ll report back in two weeks and let you all know how my first attempt goes. I chose Lodge for my dutch oven because the handles can stand up to the heat from the oven. I was surprised to see that this book advocates using this to bake bread as opposed to a loaf pan. Excited to see how it all turns out! We have started another modernization project. As Mike and I are empty nesters now, our back entryway doesn’t serve the same purposes it once did. The fact that the wallpaper was ripping expedited the decision to redo this area. I started by ordering wallpaper samples and selected the one I thought would work best in the space. We are getting rid of the black Pottery Barn locker and replacing it with a storage bench from Grandin Road and more hooks on the wall above. One of my pet peeves is the fact that my husband Mike tends to pile six or seven coats on a single hook. We will be adding more hooks and hopefully limiting our number of items per hook. I need to purge the back closet and get rid of old coats and winter gear long outgrown by my adult daughters. The bench has been ordered and the wallpaper is stripped. Next up is repainting the trim. And no, I haven’t repainted the laundry room yet, but that will be tackled in due time. Before: The hallway leading to the mudroom.Before: Ready for something different. You can see where we took the door off the hinges leading into the laundry room. We had moved the door to the top of the basement stairs to close it off a few years ago. We still need to repair the woodwork!Wallpaper stripped and ready to go! I made two great dishes with Noom recipes this week, so I have a couple to pick from. The rosemary marinated pork chops were great, but the recipe I’m going to share was our favorite, Apricot Grilled Shrimp which I served with brown rice. Apricot Grilled Shrimp 1 cup apricot preserves 1 lemon 4 tsp soy sauce (I used low sodium) 2 cloves garlic, minced 1 tsp black pepper 2 tsp grated fresh ginger 2 pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined Place the preserves in a large microwaveable bowl. Microwave on high power for 30 seconds, or until melted. Grate 2 tsp rind from the lemon into the bowl. Cut the lemon in half and squeeze 2 TBSP juice into the bowl. Stir in the soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and pepper. Add the shrimp and toss to coat. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Coat a grill rack or broiler-pan rack with cooking spray. Preheat the grill or broiler. (I broiled.) Remove the shrimp from the marinade; reserve the marinade. Thread the shrimp onto 8 metal skewers, leaving 1/4″ between the pieces. Cook 4″ from the heat, basting often with the marinade, for 2 minutes per side, or until the shrimp are opaque. Place the remaining marinade in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook for 2 minutes. Serve with the shrimp. 208 cal/serving Apricot Grilled Shrimp, sooo good! In other ongoing items, Noom continues. I completed week 5 on Friday and am down 6 pounds with 7 1/2 inches lost. I am happy with my progress and plan to continue. I have exceed my 50 book goal. Unlike my other items this one concludes at the end of the year as opposed to my birthday. I have read 61 books so far. I am currently reading “After the Flood” by Kassandra Montag and am really enjoying it. It has been described as a riveting and epic saga set in a post apocalyptic world. It was selected as a Libraries Transform Book Pick. I was not familiar with this initiative, but they make a select book available for download in unlimited quantities. After the Flood is available in unlimited quantities only through today (October 21). Here is a link for more information about this digital bookclub and unique reading opportunity. Enjoying this great read by an extraordinary new author. I’ve completed 47 of my 50 workout goal on Nordictrack. This week’s destinations were Bora Bora, Hawaii (again) and my favorite, a walk through New York City which included Central Park, the theatre district and Times Square. It was nice to re-visit NYC, if only virtually! Meditation, affirmation, and yoga all continue, though I’ve not found a convenient studio yoga class yet. I am happy to report we will soon be closing on our Florida home and will be heading down to tend to a few things shortly thereafter. I am grateful for the ability to close remotely. Furniture delivery (at least what’s available) will happen shortly after closing. When we head down, I will be shopping for bed linens, towels and kitchen essentials as well as selecting curtains and bedspreads. We are also doing a little customization after we close, adding a pool, a little custom woodworking, cabinets in the laundry room, new shower doors, and a tile backsplash in the kitchen, among other things. We will be meeting with the trades to get these things underway soon! Lastly, I am ending with a FAIL. Item #42: Actually take out the jet ski instead of letting it sit in the hoist unused, will remain undone. We pulled out the jet ski on this past Saturday which was a gorgeous day in the mid-sixties here in Michigan. It may be one of the last beautiful weekends here before the chillier temperatures of Fall settle in for good. As my birthday is May 13th, it is unlikely we will have the jet ski back in before that. So I have made peace with the idea that this particular bucket-list item will remain undone. In fact, I am going to embrace the Japanese aesthetic of Wabi Sabi, the aesthetic concept of admiring that which is imperfect. This idea is not unique to Japan. The Navajo also have a concept of leaving an open line in the border of their rugs called a “spirit line.” It makes the border imperfect but it allows the spirit of the weaver to exit the work. As I tend to be a perfectionist, I will take this as a lesson in the beauty to be found imperfection. I am going to see this as my “open line” that allows me to exit my 50’s and enter my 60’s with grace and gratitude. My sweetie taking one for the team and getting in the not so warm water to pull out the jet ski. And hey, check out those legs. What a fashionista! Until next week, I hope you are warm, present and taking time to experience everything Fall has to offer. May every blessing be yours. Summer is officially over for us when the boat and jet ski are both out of the water. Even the kayaks have been stored away for the season. Welcome Beautiful Fall!

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/week-23-farewell-to-my-fabulous-fifties-the-wabi-sabi-edition

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elfnerdherder · 7 years ago

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Ill Intentions: Chapter 8

You can read Chapter 8 on Ao3 Here

Check out my Patreon Here and become part of the squad! Early updates, behind the scenes info, and the chance to vote on certain outcomes!

Chapter 8: Blank Document

Writer’s block again.

Will sat at his kitchen table, cigarette dangling unlit from his lips. The word document sat teasing, bare-boned and holding nothing of any remote worth on the page. It wasn’t the first time he’d closed out of a word doc. without saving, and it wouldn’t be the last. The blank page and the blinking, obtrusive faint line mocked him with its lack of depth, its lack of luster.

What made the Chesapeake Ripper become?

Cheesy. Cheap. Predictable. Back stories weren’t always Will’s interest. Back stories always made him feel like he was 2 seconds away from tumbling into their life, knowing their struggles intimately. He much preferred holding people at a distance, studying them without having to become them.

He backspaced the question and scowled at the blank document once more. He idly scratched his head, then gave in and lit the cigarette, taking a desolate drag.

His problem, he figured, was that one couldn’t study the Chesapeake Ripper at an arm’s length. He glanced to the side where Freddie’s articles sat alongside articles from other newspapers, everyone asking questions they’d never get the answers to because no one could get ahold of the Chesapeake Ripper to even ask him.

Will could, though. If he fully embraced the Chesapeake Ripper, really dug into his skin and nestled among his veins and pulse and bones, he could answer those questions with perfect assurance.

Did he want to do that, though? Did he want to step into the spaces that the Chesapeake Ripper walked and answer the things that no one else could? What would happen in the aftermath? What would that say about him, that he was the only one to peer behind the artfully constructed person-suit the Ripper wore and see the dark, sordid truths beneath?

He considered his cork board that’d lain desolately empty for four years, purchased when he’d first gotten hired at Tattler News so that he could pin his accomplishments to it. What space was taken up, was taken up with the Chesapeake Ripper.

Are serial killers your muse?

The clove crackled in the cigarette, hissed as embers chewed through the paper.

Dear Will,

There’s a killer out there that’s burying people alive. They found a gravesite with nine bodies, all fed intravenously with sugar water to keep them in a diabetic coma while fungi grew on their bodies. What kind of sick shit is that? There’s a manhunt for this guy, but no one can find him. What do you make of that?

-Hooders

Dear Will,

Did you see the murder in Baltimore where someone shoved the neck of a cello down a guy’s throat? Crazy, right? What kind of guy does that?

-Umbre24

Dear Will,

I don’t know if I should be writing this to you, and I’m hoping you don’t post it in the column. The doctors will probably take away my computer time if they find out that I’m dwelling on something as morbid as you. I’m still confined to a psychiatric ward after everything that’s happened, but I’ve followed your column since almost the beginning.

Because of you, my father is dead.

I’m sure you’ve heard of me, the girl whose father murdered eight other girls in her stead. It was because of you that they found him, because of you that he panicked and killed my mother. I know that I should feel angry about this, but I don’t. In reality, I don’t feel much at all.

When you write about these people, characterize them and immortalize them in the written word, do you feel anything? Do you look at what you’ve said, look at what you’ve done and feel any form of remorse? Or are you there to simply take up space, entertain with your behaviors that led to the death of both of my parents, as well as the parents of the Mai’s?

I agreed to the terms of having your newspaper keep my e-mail unscrambled so that you can reply to me directly. Maybe I sound aggressive, but I’d honestly like to know. Is the only reason you can write about these people and not feel so horrible because you’re just like them?

Thank you,

-Abigail Hobbs

Will read the e-mail once, then twice; by the third time, he pushed the laptop away and fumbled with the cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray with shaky hands. His breath came short, and he was uncomfortable to realize that his palms were clammy, as though he’d endured a particularly uncomfortable social interaction.

Abigail Hobbs. The daughter of the Minnesota Shrike.

His watch beeped to tell him to take a walk. He ignored the notification in favor of pouring himself a drink instead.

Are serial killers your muse?

When he could control his breathing, he pulled the laptop back to himself and opened the black document once more, staring at the pulsing, faint line. With each blink, it drove her words home, barbs that sunk deep and pulled him closer and closer to the inevitable truth that he didn’t quite want to entertain.

Was the only reason he could write about these people because he was just like them?

Thinking of the knife that now sat in his messenger bag, unobtrusive when tucked away in a sheath he’d found on Amazon for four bucks, he honestly couldn’t say either way.

He was interrupted hours later from his musing by the piercing, sharp ring of his phone, the vibrations on his wrist jerking him out of his reverie. Often times, Will had to use the most obnoxious, loudest ringtone possible in order to ensure that he heard it, and it was with numb, heavy fingers that he answered the call.

“Graham here.”

“Graham, it’s Beverly. You want to get an eye on this guy sooner than a month?”

Her voice jerked him from the lulling thoughts he had of Mary Mai tracking her steps through her watch. He wondered if she strove to break her step record, or if simply maintaining was good enough for her dysmorphia. “Yeah.”

“I did a bit of digging, and it looks like there’s a gala in Baltimore this weekend. Some opera singer or other, a bit of art, and a Dr. Hannibal Lecter whose donation took top and center in the Baltimore Times since he’ll be in attendance.”

“Do you think I’m like him, Beverly?”

He was just buzzed enough that the question didn’t sound as sharp coming out of his mouth as it did in his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think the reason I can write about people like this is because I’m like these people? Or do I just have a really really good imagination?”

Beverly took enough time to think on the answer that he honestly appreciated it. He roved away from the window and scowled at the laptop whose blank document page continued to mock him.

“You’ve always been a weird guy, Will. I’ve known you for years, and I’ve always thought that. You have a way of thinking about things that no one else does, but I think that has less to do with you being some kind of psychopath and more along the lines of you being a really good writer when you have the right incentive.”

“The right incentive being killers.”

“Well, everyone has their muse. Once upon a time, I was going to work in forensics until I realized I had more fun decrypting the written word of the general populace than decrypting hair follicles on the sleeve of a dead guy.”

“Everyone has their muse,” Will agreed.

Are serial killers your muse?

“Yeah, but I think that given enough push, you can empathize with anyone. Despite hating your wedding column, you still did it, right?”

“Wedding announcements,” he swore savagely. His fingers rolled the half-consumed cigarette around, tight enough to crush its cylindrical shape.

“Yeah. I asked you why you bothered, once. You said that when you saw the bride, you didn’t care. When you spoke with her, though, or when you spoke to the groom, their emotions spilled over, so much so that you began to be excited because of them. You don’t care about relationships and weddings and baby’s breath, but for a little while, you could channel their excitement about it –at least enough that you could write what was necessary.”

It was stark honest and realistic. He could work with that, clutch onto the string of hope that he could think like them because he could think like anybody if he cared enough.

The problem being that he hadn’t cared enough about anything for a long, long time.

“I’m not good at socializing,” he said at last, thinking of the gala. “Will you be my plus one?”

“Oh, you’re not taking Freddie along this time?” she asked sarcastically.

“She’d stand out in a snowstorm,” he replied. “I need someone that can hold a crowd while I keep an eye on the crowd. Your social skills are far better than hers or mine.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Please don’t be sour about her being here. If we’re looking into this because the FBI can’t go where we can, then it makes sense that we use someone that will go where we’re not willing to go.”

“You owe me a really high end liquor for this, you know that? You even had her in my house.”

“I’ll pick it up at the store after the gala,” he promised.

When he hung up, he cleared the notifications away on his watch sloppily. Get water. Eat dinner. Take a walk. Get water. Get ready for bed. Prepare for tomorrow. Go to bed. He’d ignored all of them in favor of scowling at his laptop, waiting for inspiration to strike.

Fucking writer’s block.

He closed the laptop lid with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. The word document sat blank. Unsaved.

He responded to Abigail Hobbs. Work dragged, and his desk wobbled with a vicious mockery. He wondered if the Chesapeake Ripper would send another letter, now that he was actively searching for him, or if he would sit back and simply watch what Will decided to do.

“Mail time.”

Someone dropped a stack of mail on his desk, and Will nodded in thanks. A lot of fan mail, a lot of criticism. His watch buzzed with a notification that traffic was heavy due to a wreck on his normal route home.

Then a letter written in a very, very recognizable hand.

Dear Will,

Your words are touching, truly, as you’ve taken the infamy of the Chesapeake Ripper to new heights with your censure. Should you, instead, tell the masses of your own activities, sordid as they are? Would they still love you, do you think?

Busy as I’ve no doubt kept you, I thought to give you something to sink your teeth into, to remind you just what it is to try and best someone like me.

What is all around us

and broken once we speak?

You have three days.

-Chesapeake Ripper

Will didn’t go to Charlie. His watch beeped to get water, and he filled his water bottle from the cooler before he was out of the door, waving dismissively to Beverly who watched with a confused, suspicious expression. He sent her a text as a peace offering.

Be back later, I have a lead.

He was three blocks down and stepping out into the street to hail a taxi when he heard a painfully familiar voice.

“You’re not going alone this time,” Freddie said, and stepped in front of him before he could move in front of oncoming traffic.

“You don’t know what I’m doing,” Will replied with far more snark than he meant.

“You’ve gotten a letter from the Ripper, and you’re not waiting around for someone to tell you not to go after it,” she said, and she folded her arms over her chest. “Every time there’s a letter, though, he escalates the situation. Can’t you see that?”

“If they’re already dead, someone needs to know.”

“And if they’re already dead, you should be calling Jack Crawford of the FBI, not racing after them.” She tilted her head, and in the bright afternoon sunlight, it made her eyes glint. “Don’t bullshit me, Graham. I know why you’re going alone, but I’m saying that if you’re going to bring us all together, you can’t give me the same lies you give Katz.”

“I didn’t lie to her,” he said defensively.

“But you didn’t tell her the whole truth, either. ‘I have a lead,’” she scoffed.

“Are you going to get out of my way, Freddie?”

“Are you going to keep wasting time when people could potentially be dying?” she fired back. “You know his time limits aren’t always honest.”

His watch buzzed to tell him that he’d been sitting for awhile. It sometimes did that, not always catching the few steps he’d taken just after getting up to move around. Will dismissed the small ‘Zzzz’ notification from his watch, then eyed Freddie with extreme prejudice. Where Beverly would allow him his odd tendencies of going off alone and going about his business, Freddie wasn’t much in the way of letting a lead get past her.

He let out a low, irritable growl, then handed her the letter. His free hand flexed, then drummed mindlessly against his leg, irritated.

She read it, reread it, then looked at him, eyebrow quirked.

“Silence,” he said when she made no comment.

“You know where to go?”

“The Silent Brother’s Monastery a mile outside of the city.”

Freddie snorted, then shook her head. “See, and I was thinking about the school for the deaf two miles south of here.”

Just behind her, a taxi slowed and Will waved his hand impatiently at it. It stilled, then swerved out of the way of other drivers to stop for them.

“So you go there, I go to the monastery,” he replied, and he snatched the letter from her. “Whoever is right gets a beer.”

“I don’t drink beer,” she said from the curb as he climbed in.

“Wine, spritzer, whatever,” he said, and he closed the door behind himself. Will would have liked to have claimed that he didn’t relish the look on her face as she watched the taxi driver pull away, but that would have been an outright lie. He’d been doing it so much, it least he could do was admit when he enjoyed being a pain in the ass for someone like her.

She sent him a text message with an emoticon of a middle finger, and he sent a thumb’s-up back.

The drive to the monastery wasn’t too far –traffic was hell going into the city at that time of day, not leaving it. Will held the paper so tightly that it crumpled up a bit, and he read and reread the riddle in an effort to ground himself rather than bounce about the walls in the back of the taxi.

“Going to meet someone?” the man driving asked. Will looked up, confused, and he explained, “When my wife leaves me notes in the morning, I hold onto them like that throughout the day. It makes me excited to be at the end of my shift.”

“…Yeah,” Will said, and he managed to smile after a beat. “Yeah, I’m meeting someone.”

“A friend?”

“A close friend.”

He thought to maybe relax his grip on the letter, but it didn’t last long before he was holding tight to it, studying the riddle again. He was right; he had to be.

He knew the Chesapeake Ripper better than Freddie did, surely.

The taxi slowed and turned them onto a small driveway, gravel and encased by rows upon rows of Magnolia trees, thick and normally waxy leaves browned and scattered across the ground. He thought of the white flowers that bloomed along the branches, the brides that wrapped them into bouquets. They bought the flowers from the monks here, and it was a wedding aesthetic to bind them in twine and let them rest in vases with an inch or so of water. They’d last for days like that, a wedding planner once promised him. The beauty of the magnolia flower would last for days in only an inch or so of water, holding on and spreading their petals wide for all to see.

They turned the corner and drove along the wraparound driveway. Off to the side, large green houses contained herbs, trees, and plants that the brothers sold in order to make a living, and alongside that was a small shop containing books on Christianity and gardening.

“Just right here,” Will said, and he fished out enough cash, passing it through the open slot.

“Is your friend a silent brother?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” Will said, thoughtfully. “He very much is.”

He waited until the driver pulled away before he began his trek towards the church that sat in the distance, composed of grey stones and quiet dignity. Despite not putting any of his stock into religion, he had to admit that there was a quiet peace shrouding the monastery, gentle hills rolling down towards a lake where he spied a few Canadian geese getting their feathers wet. Statues of saints dotted along the grass that still clung to its green coloring, stone benches beside plaques that quoted scripture.

The church looked far more foreboding in the grey of Fall than it did in early spring when Will liked to sometimes visit. Clouds above settled low, bled into the stonework of the church and made the cross on top look somewhat like a weapon rather than a symbol of holiness. Will ascended the steps and took hold of the brass handle on the thick, wooden door. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat as he opened the door, blessing the silence of the hinges as they swung and allowed him into the silence of the chapel that smelled like rosewater and the fluttering pages of an old book.

Churches always filled Will with the sort of disquiet that they were supposedly meant to chase away. Their opulence and grandiose arches and stained windows that depicted saints that once preached humility and not needing riches in order to be close to God. His father had once tried to attend mass with him, when he was small. He’d swung his legs and drummed his fingers so loudly that a man in robes had hushed him from the aisle, stern and displeased.

There was no one to shush him as he entered, no preaching or singing. A quick glance at his watch told him that there was no mass currently, but there was a distinct lack of any noise save the sound of his shoes on the worn stone as he walked past the first set of pews and came to a stop at a small, wooden gate that led towards rows of more pews resting on either side, facing one another as well as a strip of red carpet that led to an altar. Jesus Christ was nailed to the wooden cross above the altar, eyes downcast, pained over the stone slab.

No body rested on the altar. Just a simple cloth.

“Dammit,” he murmured, and the hushing whisper of his voice carried over the silence that pressed too strong, too harsh in the otherwise quiet. Freddie must have been right.

He turned to leave, hands clammy and heart pounding far too harshly for failure. He exhaled, loud and biting, and made his way towards the doors. The brothers must have been somewhere else, doing what those who lived in silence did. Ironically, he paused beside the dish of holy water where one could trace the cross with their fingers –his father hadn’t stuck around religion long enough for Will to figure out why. Maybe if they’d stayed with the church, he wouldn’t have turned out like this.

Maybe.

He dipped his fingers in the bowl, then paused as he looked, really looked at it. Holy water was clear, and he recalled the dish he’d seen once depicting the Virgin Mary at the bottom of the water, rippling and otherwise merciful as the people murdered her son.

There was no such design that he could see in this bowl, seeing how it was filled instead with blood.

He withdrew his fingers, stared at the way that it beaded and slid along his fingers, gliding along his palm. In the gloom of the church, it took on an interesting sort of color, not entirely red but not yet dark enough for burgundy. His heart lurch, strained in his chest, and he looked about, swallowing down a noise of surprise and –dare he say –excitement. There was no one to witness his harried footsteps as he peeked along the pews and checked the closet in the corner. He whirled around, palms tingling, and when he spied the confessional booth off to the side, he didn’t walk so much as he ran to the doors of it, opening them both at once.

On the left, hands pressed to the grate between the confessor and the priest, a man with a wild array of curly brown hair sat in silence, black cloth tied about his mouth, silencing him. His eyes were glazed in death, his skin holding a dusty pallor. The smell hit Will hard, disrupting the rosewater.

On the right, a man that was very much alive sat with glazed, confused eyes. He was bound to his chair with rope that Will recognized as a particularly effective material for making netting to catch fish. Over his mouth, a similar black cloth was tied –the muffled noise gave away the gag that must have been shoved to the back of his mouth.

It took Will far too long to shake off the victory as well as the panic before he could untie him and ungag him.

“Are you hurt?” Will asked, voice ragged. The inside of the booth was snug with the two of them, but his fingers fumbled with the knots as the man let out a pained whine and tried to ease the pain in his jaw and mouth. The air reeked of urine and body odor.

“I…I…” he shuddered, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tried to catch his breath and take control of what was happening around him. “P-please…I…”

Will helped him up and out of the chair, then led him to a pew to sit down. His robes were stiff from dried sweat and other bodily fluids, his hair flat against his head.

“I’m going to call for help,” he said to the man as he took his pulse. Too slow for comfort. “How long were you in there?”

“Please…” the man murmured, and he slumped down into the pew, dazed.

“Wait here,” said Will, as though the man would go anywhere else. He stepped out of the church and gulped in the cold, wet air outside, tingles gliding along his skin with short, electric bursts.

Then he called Freddie.

She picked up on the first ring, and he said, “You owe me a beer.”

There was a long, pregnant pause.

“Actually, you owe me a glass of wine,” she replied, and something in her tone made him tense. “Unless you found a dead body strapped to a sound-cancelling device with a man tied up just inches away from being able to release him.”

The blood in his veins froze.

“…No, but I found a corpse in the confessional booth with the priest on the other side, tied up and near-death,” he said, and his voice sounded tinny even to him, off.

They were both quiet, unable to quite bring to words the way the implications of their successes made them feel.

“Have you called the cops?” she asked, the first to speak. “I’ve got them on the way.”

“Yeah,” Will lied, and as he stood on the steps and tried to forget the smell of dried urine and sweat, he had to resist the urge to go back inside to see what could be seen before anyone else came to muck up what could arguably be called a gift to him. “Yeah, they’re on their way.”

When he hung up the phone, Will would have liked to have claimed that he called the cops immediately after. In truth, it took far too long for him to muster up the ability to dial the number, let alone convey his words to the operator that answered.

A special thanks to my patrons: @hanfangrahamk @matildaparacosm @starlit-catastrophe @sylarana Duhaunt6 and Superlurk! You guys make this possible <3

#LiaS scribbles #ill intentions #hannibal fanfic #hannibal #hannigram #someone help will graham #respond appropriately in emergency situations #freddie lounds #will graham x hannibal #Journalist!Will #Hannibal au

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