#really liked the difference of opinion here

[playfullypastelpupper]

CW/TW- Kink Mentioned ---------------------------------- --------------------------

I agree on not villainizing and trying their events if you feel safe. There is a lot of sfw members in those communities. I for one was in those communities as sfw before I knew regression. But like others said- PTSD and minors are in our community. They can't go to these events. We also got to keep in mind regression can be involuntary and can be outside of an adult headspace. Are they excluded for not being able to give consent in the moment? Are most of these events accommodating? We also got to keep in mind littles apart of DID systems. What if they go to a panel that seems safe but includes kink terminology and roleplaying and then the systems have to explain. In regard there are many people there who are in an adult mindset and may talk about adult topics even if you don't consent to it nearby. It can knock the agere out of their safe mindset or trigger PTSD in that moment. For PTSD it can be scary to approach or even consider attending. They deserve a space as much as anyone. A place their own. I understand going out and trying things. The conventions are really nice for nostalgia and having fun. But I can't say it's completely sfw for a regressor as someone who also watched the cons and interacted with the community. It can have subtle small flags that may send an age regressor into turmoil who feels unsafe. For example a food panel could end up with suggestive roleplaying. Or someone may bring up kink exploration during a meetup. Even a playroom could have NSFW conversations hinted at. Its fair they'd want their own space as much as its fine if you want to explore these events yourself. Everyone cares for their safety and wants differently. Saying they should go and try this while treating others feelings as something to be mad about is unfair. I get agere can be hard to duals and kink. I've seen some strong words said. I know people hurt by it. People who felt excluded and guilty for who they are. I agree. Yes we can tone down our own emotions to be kinder. We can, especially through understanding. There is nothing wrong with feeling that way or different expressions of age regression that don't fit in neatly. I'm glad people can relate. I'm glad they have the opportunity to do this if they are comfortable. It's a great way to regain some childhood back or self grow. But separation as a community exists for a reason. Some of these policings happened because of the past harm peoples been through and the fear of it happening to others or even to themselves. If you're hurt at someone not wanting minors seeing kink content or ending up in kink spaces due to crosstagging. (Which mind you duals tend not to crosstag because they understand.) Age regressors not wanting to be kicked out of their own spaces, which has happened, and turned into a dating/NSFW space. Or kicked into a bad space because of seeing something that may remind them of trauma. All because you don't care for separation. And Without separation looking for a Caregiver can turn dangerous. Then maybe you need just as much understanding for other age regressors experiences as much as sfw kink. Because even if they are SFW they are still in a Kink Space. History is important here. We have a whole history on why we stay apart as communities online. What I'm trying to get at.. Don't undermine experiences or concerns. You can't rise a group up and then beat another down. You can dislike something but you should be careful with the impact you speak of. You don't have to understand for them to have an opinion on their boundaries. And I'm sorry to any age regressors that read this post and saw them calling those above an embarrassment for simply being uncomfortable with kink in their space. I understand being hurt by mean words like calling someone 'icky' for existing. That hurts people too. Just bare in mind there is also no excuse for calling someone names. You are just as wrong. Either one can be mean and guilt causing toward that person. Just stay safe and love who you are. Take care kiddos

Stealing these photos from a K!nk convention because these looks like so much fun and I wish I could have this environment for non-sexual agere littles.

[viking-illustrator]

In light of certain recent topics, I’ve been reminded of the 2017 book ‘Norse Mythology’ by Neil Gaiman. It was a nice telling of the more well-known Norse Myths, but there are LOTS of other options out there for people wanting to learn more about Norse Mythology—you don’t have to support that predator to learn about the gods.

Below is a list of some of the other resources that I’ve used. It’s not exhaustive by any measure—just what I’m familiar with and what comes to mind as I sit here at my desk at work. If anyone else has any additional recommendations, please add them to the list!

Norse Mythology for Smart People - norse-mythology.org

This was where I first started when I wanted to learn about Norse Mythology years ago—I literally just typed “Norse Mythology” into google and clicked the first result like a noob. But this site does a really good job of giving information on a wide range of topics within norse mythology as well as vikings in a general sense—everything from different gods, goddesses, creatures, places, and major stories. It’s a solid encyclopedic source that I would recommend to anyone wanting to get general information on the mythology.

“Norse Mythology: The Unofficial Guide” - https://open.spotify.com/show/7F0tD7bStFIDSVEbsnrxuI?si=8ce8f5ccf3a3417d

If podcasts are your jam, the best by far in my opinion is ‘Norse Mythology: The Unofficial Guide’. At the time of me writing this, there haven’t been any new episodes for 6 months, but there are 37 episodes that are about an hour each & range on a variety of topics from cosmology to specific deities to stories like Ragnarok or specific topics like runes. It does a fantastic job of explaining each topic in a way that is both thorough and accessible & honestly I can’t recommend it enough.

The ‘Northern Myths’ Podcast - https://open.spotify.com/show/7KtSJb5DTLSwmfj1BPYY5v?si=fcd6c297cdc1463d

If you want to go deeper into Old Norse texts like the Eddas or the Havamál, the ‘Northern Myths’ podcast is the place to go for a very deep dive/discussion on these texts. The episodes are long and sometimes get a little dry, but they do read these texts directly and then discuss each passage, so it’s a decent place to go for some deep discussion on some of the pillars of Old Norse texts.

Dr. Jackson Crawford - https://jacksonwcrawford.com/

Most people who get into Norse Mythology/History become familiar with Jackson Crawford pretty quick. He’s an expert specifically in linguistics and the Old Norse language—which includes runes—but he also has extensive knowledge on Old Norse & “Viking” history & culture. He’s previously taught at UCLA, UC Berkeley, and University of Colorado, and now has an extensive Youtube channel. He’s also been a consultant for projects like AC:Valhalla. If you have a question about Old Norse & would like to have a soft-spoken, no-nonsense cowboy in the wilds of Colorado explain it to you, this is your new home.

Again, this is by no means an exhaustive list, but it’s a good start. Please please feel free to reblog with any additional sources you’ve used so we can help new friends learn more!

[rouge-fauna]

Normally, I wouldn't really say anything about the drama and stuff, because that's not what I'm here for and honestly I feel like a lot of it is just none of my business. But, it just feels so close to home for me that I can't help but say something. Because here's the thing people aren't going to talk about and probably don't even realize, but I think so much of this drama actually has to do with Dream being autistic.

Just notice the themes of what Tubbo said about Dream being weird, inappropriate, not considering the social boundaries, not communicating, coming across wrong… etc these are all things that can be attributed to Dream literally not knowing better because of neurodivergence. That’s not an excuse but an explanation to know the difference between Dream texting Tommy’s mom out of being manipulative versus not understanding how that breaks a social boundary. That’s not to say Dream should get a free pass to do whatever but I think in the same way we take into consideration other people’s ages and their naivety and obliviousness and inexperience into consideration, Dream’s neurodivergence should be considered too. It is valid. It makes a difference between manipulative and malicious intent versus simply not seeing it the same way.

And really the sad thing is, that I think people will always dislike Dream. At the end of the day, I think that will never change, because even if he was the most perfect person people would still dislike him because of an underlying subconscious response to him not being like the rest. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he is made the villain in real life and in the dsmp, because it is simply a psychological fact that people inherently dislike autistic people. It’s not because they are ableist it’s just we don’t act like they do so that makes us weird and therefore unlikeable. And it’s hard to understand us because our brains our literally different and as has been said throughout history what we don’t understand we hate, we fear, we see as evil, we attack. Why does Dream get canceled and attacked over and over again? Not because they are true and it proves a pattern that he’s shitty, but because society is so desperate to find a more tangible reason to hate him other than the fact that they just do. Because his behavior breaks social rules he didn’t realize existed. Because he’s easy pickings. Because in my opinion it all comes down to autism and honestly until that piece is actually taken into consideration nothing will probably resolve.

[mylovesstuffs]

Vernon is THAT type of boyfriend !

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Vernon is so chill as a boyfriend, but it’s the kind of chill that makes you feel completely at ease. He’s like a human comfort zone—low-key, calm, and always giving you space to just be. But don’t mistake that for indifference; he cares deeply, he’s just not one for grand, dramatic gestures.

He’s a naturally observant boyfriend, noticing the little things about you without even trying. You change your hairstyle slightly? He clocks it immediately but doesn’t make a big fuss, just smiles like, yeah, I see you. He’s also surprisingly good at remembering random details about you—like your favorite niche snack or that song you casually mentioned once... SEVENTEEN will never believe or agree with this tho—

He doesn’t always know how to express his feelings with words, but he shows his love in the most Vernon-esque ways: sharing his playlist, tagging you in the weirdest memes, or randomly sending you blurry photos of something that made him think of you. His love language is so subtle, but once you get it, it’s everything.

Vernon isn’t one for PDA as much as others—subtle, but in private, he’s a whole different story. Oh god, that side of him. He’s the type to quietly pull you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder or tucking you against his chest while you’re watching something together. It’s so casual yet so intimate, you can’t help but melt.

He has this offbeat sense of humor that constantly catches you off guard. One moment he’s saying something incredibly profound, and the next he’s referencing the most random thing in pop culture. You’re either laughing uncontrollably or just staring at him like, how does his brain even work?

He’s super laid-back when it comes to arguments or disagreements. Vernon doesn’t raise his voice or get overly emotional; instead, he calmly listens, nods, and takes his time to process. It’s almost infuriating how logical and level-headed he is, but it’s also why fights with him don’t spiral out of control.

There’s a quiet intensity to him that makes him so intriguing. He doesn’t say a lot, but when he does, it’s meaningful. And when he looks at you—like, really looks at you—you can feel your heart skip a beat because holy hell, it’s like he’s seeing into your soul TT.

Vernon isn’t overly romantic in the traditional sense, but he’s full of unexpected gestures that hit you right in the feels. He’d casually buy you something you mentioned wanting weeks ago or show up at your door with your favorite drink because he thought you’d need it after a long day.

He’s the ultimate vibe-setter in your relationship. Late-night drives with his playlist? Yes. Chilling in comfortable silence while doing your own thing? Also yes. But when the mood shifts, oh boy. There’s something about the way he lingers in close proximity, his hand brushing against yours, that makes your heart race. Like, please HELP.

If you ever surprise him with affection, he gets this slightly flustered, awkward smile that makes you want to kiss him on the spot. He’s so effortlessly adorable, yet so unaware of it, and you’re just sitting there like, he’s so cute. (omg I can’t.)

He’s not the overly protective type, but he does have this quiet way of looking out for you. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re comfortable or checks in with you after a tough day. He might not say much, but his actions always speak volumes.

Vernon is surprisingly suggestive in his own low-key way. A fleeting touch here, a smirk there—it’s all so subtle but incredibly effective. And don’t get me started on how casually confident he can be when he’s teasing you, like, sir, where did this come from??

Being with Vernon feels like being with your best friend and your biggest crush rolled into one. He’s so down-to-earth and genuine, yet there’s this quiet magnetism about him that keeps you hooked. It’s the perfect mix of comfort and excitement, and honestly, you’re just obsessed.

[elliesglock]

what is your pazzi timeline?

oh boy, i'll give like a brief summary

2016: paige meets azzi first. i think paige had a whole secret admirer thing going on because she mentions meeting azzi 3 years ago in the 2019 slam video with them even though azzi has said she knew paige for 2 years at that point. seems like paige knew and was kinda crushing on azzi before a knew about her.

2017: they meet officially at u-16. they become friends i think paige still has a crush on azzi. azzi doesn't really reciprocate because i personally believe she didn't know she liked girls atp. a lot happens mostly just p being a simp ofc. azzi this year doesn't really seem to view paige as anything other than a friend.

2018: azzi starts to like paige back, beginning of in my humble opinion a very long homoerotic friendship.

2019: casually dating. paige would've been a junior and azzi would've been a sophomore. lots happens...paige flying to see azzi after her acl tear, wore p's jersey at her championship game, lots of plane rides to see each other. gives to me long distance sorta casual fling thing. weirdos idk

2020: def starts to get weird here. in my personal opinion, i think they're pretty exclusive here. there's different opinions out there but seeing how paige goes to live with a's fam it's very clear they start to really get close here. i think this time together really made them realize how much they loved each other.

aug 2020-2021: p goes to college, azzi stays home to finish hs. kinda seems like an amicable break-up/casual fling situationship they have here. streets say p was seen with other girls so i think they took time off from their relationship because of my guess the distance and in turn them having different focuses. however, in my opinion, i think they were in a kinda "she's still my girl" situation. like seeing other people but they know where home at type shit. again i know weirdos idk i never said my girls made sense yall 😭

aug 2021 is when azzi goes to uconn which leads me to my next part.

2021-2023: dating again. however weird tiff in 2021 where i think they're still being weird and not together. streets say azzis with a football player, p stops being seen with girls however. azzi is at college with p. the ice live oh lord. i think they're just getting comfortable with being around each other all the time again. LOCKED IN by the end of 2023.

2024: wives. wedding bells. locked in forever they have kids together. only goes up from here

thank you for coming to my pazzi ted talk anons

@azpb535 has an amazing tl that goes into great detail better than mine btw

[pangaeaseas]

The Problem of Religion in Harry Potter (or, what is Wizard God?)

tl; dr: I wish more hp fics did something with religion and the wizarding world

so to state my credentials up front: I've read a lot of hp fanfiction, a little on the Reformation and religious history--like, I have probably more background knowledge than the average person but I am very emphatically not an expert and have never actually taken a class specifically on any kind of religious history, and I'm an ex-Catholic who did ten ish years of religion classes. There are probably a LOT more people more qualified to talk about this than me but whatever I've never actually seen very much meta written out on this specific issue so I'm giving it a try. (if you have written or read such meta, please send me recs)

ahh the Problem of Religion one of the great unsolved mysteries of the hp world building (similar issues include What the Fuck is Going on with Ireland, How Does the Ministry Actually Work, What is the Population, etc) and I call it 'unsolved' because the fandom has no massively popular solution (like Lordships for the Problem of the Wizengamot) and in general tends to just not think about it, much like JKR originally did. Now IMO she probably intended most wizards to be, like, generically Church of England or whatever without much investment--basically copying the Muggle equivalent whenever it isn't spelled out how the two worlds differ, which is I think a lot of her un-filled-out world building is meant to be. Which. OK. You can do that, but, you know, religion is a very very important aspect of worldbuilding and in my opinion ignoring it and expecting it to be just the same as 1990s Muggle Britain is uninteresting and lazy.

This (wizards are meant to be some kind of Christian and probably Church of England just for simplicity's sake) is evidenced by things like Hogwarts having Christmas and Easter breaks, James and Lily having a Bible quote picked out by Dumbledore on their tombstone, and Draco Malfoy, most emblematically wizard of wizard characters who can be taken as a potential baseline, automatically saying things like 'Good God'. Which, you know, implies that the idea of a single God, and probably the Judaeo-Christian God because that's the same cultural background as the rest of Britain, is taken for granted by wizarding society. It doesn't necessarily imply anything about Draco's or even the Malfoys' personal beliefs, and of course you have other characters saying things like 'Oh my Merlin' and "Morgana" and things like that. Which in my opinion wasn't meant to be indications of some kind of Merlin or Morgana worship but more quirky and fun flavor things of the kind jkr loves to include without thinking out the implications. But you absolutely can take those statements that way--this post is absolutely not meant to dictate how people want to headcanon and I am absolutely here for giving wizards a well thought out pagan or Non-Christian religion, I just don't think that was the author's intent. There's also plenty of other things that imply Wizarding cultural Christianity that I'm not remembering off the top of my head.

And, of course, much better writers than me have extensively discussed all the Christian themes in HP. Of course, themes don't need to affect how people worldbuild in fanfic.

So: with HP canon, we are looking at a society that is probably culturally Christian and probably (key word) intended to be Church of England. But, because JKR wasn't putting much thought into it and basically just took a Chrisitian bedrock of society for granted, the implications of this are not really explored at all. So what I'm interested in is how fandom deals with it.

Mostly, that is...not at all, either taking cultural Christianity in the Wizarding World for granted the way JKR does or by ind of handwaving that wizards have evolved beyond the need for religion and that's just how it is. And that's perfectly fine! Not everyone wants to come up with a full, working, wizard society, and even if they are trying to worldbuild some aspects of wizarding society religion is often ignored, because people don't want to deal with it for often valid reasons (religious trauma, just disinterest, grew up agnostic, not Christian but thinks wizards probably are etc, etc, etc, ) Personally I wish more fics delved into what wizarding religious belief actually is, but to put it bluntly, that's just me. And I have never dealt with religion in my own fics. So don't takethis as judgement at all.

But there are interesting headcanons when people do choose to try and worldbuild religion in HP.

Fom what I've seen, one of the major ways to deal with religion in HP (aside from not dealing with it at all) is to give wizards, often pureblood wizards, some kind of pagan, often Celtic-inspired, religion. And this is quite defensible! Sometimes this is badly executed and/or turned into Death Eater apologia, but the idea of wizards having a different religion is really interesting and a good deal more interesting (IMO of course) than just not mentioning religion at all. Most fics that I've seen don't delve too deeply into, like the actual history and theology of these religions, but there are definitely some that do. (Also if you know any PLEASE send me recs). So if handled well, this is a great way to add some religion worldbuilding in the world of Harry Potter.

However, my personal favorite set of possibilities--obviously I have some personal bias as a history nerd with a long standing if never as deeply researched as I would like to interest in the history of Christianity and as an ex-Catholic--is that, well, we know the statute of secrecy started..when, exactly? 1690. So this much is obviously a result of JKR's Hollywood understanding of witch hunts (a subject for another time and someone far more qualified). For interested wrodlbuilders, we can take this as a guideline at best, as personally I think it would have taken a good deal longer than one year to agree on and implement something like the Statute and I tend to take 1690 as an end date, not a start. I also tend to take the Statue as a largely European phenomenon, at least at first. But, uh, what was happening in Britain at the time..oh, right...the Glorious Revolution....what was happening that created the conditions for the Glorious Revolution...oh, the English Civil War...which was because of...oh yeah, and what was also happening on the continent, maybe it involved, wait, thirty years..oooh, the Thirty Years War...wait weren't there a whole bunch of massive social shifts happening in Europe at this point in time isn't that funny but surely the stature of secrecy could be considered a part of these massive social shifts...all of which was heavily influenced by...you guessed it, the Protestant Reformation.

Wait. So. Maybe, the separation of Wizards from Muggles, at least in Britain, wasn't actually about Muggles hating wizards or wizards hating Muggles. Maybe it was about religion. Now personally I find this ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING. The possibilities, the possibilities...

Wizards had a massive religious civil war that created the blood status system in its modern form? Particular families have wildly different denominations? Excellent. Religion both in terms of level of religiosity and in terms of denomination is a blood status marker? Excellent. Purebloods are all Catholic (what does this do to both Catholic and not Muggleborns?) Excellent. Purebloods are all Puritans? Weird, but if you can pull it off excellent. Purebloods are all one of the wacky new denominations that sprung up after the Reformation and then either died out or conquered the world? Excellent. Pure bloods are all Lutherans who really hated Henry VIII? Excellent. One of my favoirite ways to create a wizarding religion was someone who had most pure bloods follow a denomination that split off from Catholicism in the Great Schism and then a small minority being Catholic, with the worlds splitting around the Reformation. Even the paganism headcanons can be incorporated: the Reformation could conceivably have made it much more difficult to keep practicing wizard paganism causing separation of the worlds.

Personally I would love to see a world that used the history of the Protestant Reformation super well, but it's not the only way to relate a Wizarding religion or a Wizarding religious history. I just wish more people tried to do that at all. Let wizards be religious! Or let them be irreligious but have thought about it, instead of just ignoring religion at all as something that might conceivably have influenced human societies. Maybe Wizarding Britain has state sponsored atheism. Just say that outright!

Another thing I'd like to see more fic doing is theology: how does having magic impact people's religious doctrine? Does every major religion essentially have a wizarding branch with its own theology because magic impacts their view of the world so much, or do most wizards simply follow the majority Muggle religion in their country with no modifications? if so, why? Do some wizards disagree, potentially violently, over how to incorporate magic into their religion? Do some people refuse to use magic because they think it goes against their religion? Etc etc etc you could go on forever. I've seen fic, which randomly enough was about Regulus Black, do this pretty well (or I thought so as a non-Jew) for Judaism, and I'd love it if done with other religions.

Anyway. Now I have to figure out how the hell religion works in the Wizarding Britain of my own headcanon.

[arliedraws]

I've seen your posts about AI. I also know it's a pretty polarizing topic and what the majority opinion is, especially in regards to art and writing. And being an artist myself, I totally agree that it sucks, like you have to pay attention and all, but.... I hardly dare to say this because I know how emotional the discourse around AI is, especially on a platform like tumblr, which sometimes seems so strong that I don't participate in a discussion about this topic at all because I feel like people here would hound me for it, but I still use different AI software, but not in the way that I use it to create something that I can publish and pretend that I spent hours creating it myself. I think it can be really helpful.

If I need information about something quickly, it's more efficient than spending a lot of time searching different websites for a particular piece of information.

I also like to think of it as a group member when I'm working on projects. That doesn't mean that I get the ideas from it and then just copy them. In the same way that group work is beneficial, you pass the ball to each other with the AI and exchange ideas that you can then develop further. Or it can help you if you're looking for another word to describe something better, like a dictionary. And I still know how to use real dictionaries or do proper research, because I know that AI can make mistakes and you shouldn't believe everything. Just like it is with information from the internet in general. Anyway, now I come to the actual “confession”, which is that I also use it, not to let the AI create the art, but as a tool to help myself creating it. I usually use reference images for drawings to help me get the scene itself or the anatomy correct etc. Andy capture it properly. But sometimes I have a very specific scene in mind and can't find a suitable reference, and it can take me hours to find something that fits. So I like to use AI to create that reference for me, because unfortunately I don't have people modeling for me and personally it helps me extremely to have examples to work from.

Idk where exactly I'm going with this. But since the general opinion on generative ai seems very clear here, I wanted to finally get this off my chest because I always kept my moth shut being afraid of how others might react, even though I think that my methods are still quite legitimate, as I still do the real work myself. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your opinion.

Ahhhh okay, well, thanks for the vulnerability here.

You know my opinion on AI. I’m not going to tell you you’re a terrible person or anything for using it, but I’m also not going to justify your personal decisions. Instead, I invite you to change your perspective.

My opinion is this—and it’s more of a question: why are you creating the art? I’m going to hit a few of your main points and just pose questions because I think this gets to be more philosophical than a cut-and-dry “if you use AI, you are a bad guy.” Because I don’t think that—I also don’t think you should use it.

The reason I don’t blame people for being attracted to using AI is because as human beings, we’re designed to find the most efficient way to do things. Thinking and using creativity is a huge caloric expenditure. Right? Naturally, we’re attracted to ways that things can be done FOR us and reduce our cognitive load. Your brain is working as it was designed! But this is also a really cool way to take away your voice and mold you into someone who cannot think for themself.

(This is also what you’re doing by “confessing” to me. You’re unloading your cognitive/emotional burden so you can keep on doing the thing you know is probably a bit shady.)

First of all, I don’t know you, so I don’t know what your art training is. However, you need to train your brain to start coming up with stuff on your own. I am really sorry, but I don’t buy the “I don’t have enough references.” When there are free resources like Unsplash.com and even just looking at buildings around you, the furniture in your house, etc, you DO have the references. But you need to learn how to use them. This is a tool.

Second thing, if the reference isn’t exactly what you need, then you need to start learning volume and shapes. You need to study anatomy. Eventually, you will be able to look at a reference and understand how perspective works and be able to transform a reference in your head to what you need. OR - start combining references. If I’m doing a full scene, I probably have about 5-6 reference photos I’m working from. This is a tool.

Third, start taking photos of yourself for reference images. If you can’t find what you need, do that. I periodically have to go into my camera roll to delete the god-awful reference poses for myself. This is a tool.

Fourth, start a collection of things that “strike you.” Start a reference blog. Have a folder filled with images that intrigue you. Personally, I take an insane number of photos when I’m traveling. For example, I went to a mansion for a tour and took photos of all the early 20th century objects and rooms so I would have these in my arsenal. This is a tool.

My fundamental question is this—why are you having an algorithm create what’s in your head for you? Why not learn how to do these things instead? Your imagination is so cool. The process of creating is making happy mistakes. What do you think Bob Ross would say to you? When you use AI, you’re just copying. The imaginative part has been done for you. You’re just a tool of the robot.

We do so much to avoid frustration, but frustration is the part of creating. When we can see the skills we need to learn, that’s how we know we’re improving. It means you’re trying, and when you press through that discomfort, that’s when you grow. Stop seeing this as a block to your end goal but as an opportunity to continue your infinite journey as an artist. Celebrate that there are so many beautiful things to learn.

Additionally, please don’t see AI as a group project. A group project indicates that all parties involved consent to participate, and I know most artists do not want their art to be used in this way. Imagine if you learned to do all the things I’ve described above and taken time/years/frustration/love to develop these skills, and someone years later then took your work and said “It’s okay - we ALL contributed to this.” It’s just not true.

The artists you see online don’t simply sit down and draw a bunch of cool stuff without practice. I watch Youtube videos of professionals. I draw a gazillion sketches of just MOUTHS or hands so I can create my own references in my mind. Why would you deprive yourself of this?

Look, I think it comes down to this: if you’re looking for efficiency and ‘getting it done’ quickly, then why are you doing it? Are you enjoying the process? If you aren’t, why are you even doing it?

If you need a robot to imagine something for you, then you don’t actually want to do it.

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 5

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: working at the studio was a hard affair for you, but for Avis who had no idea how to run it it was even harder. Coming to find out she has been staying late almost every day you decide to whisk her away so she can take a break.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), slight praise kink, pet names, tit play, lingerie, outdoors sex.

Authors note: First of all, I'm very sorry about what's going on in Los Angeles right now. It's truly devastating to see so many families lost over the rubble of what used to be their lives; my heart goes out to all of them. This chapter is for them, so we will never forget its beauty even if the flames consume it all. Hope will sprout from in between the ashes. On another note, I'm sorry that this chapter has taken so long, but I've had to slow down a bit, I couldn't keep up with the way I've been dropping fanfics. I'm not sure if the last part is any good, it's like two o'clock in the morning and I need to sleep but I hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader for part of the story.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4

Word count: 20K (I have nothing to say. I have tried and failed.)

Kiss me in a field of lavender

The tension had been palpable in the air all day, people whispering and gossiping about the newest production that Avis had green-lighted, quiet conversations happening in the canteen away from Miss Kincaid’s or Mr Samuel’s ears. Meg was in everyone’s mouths, and by what they were saying it could be a total disaster for the studio if things carried on like this, but you knew that Avis would not have taken such a leap if she wasn’t perfectly sure, but you had not had the chance to talk about it with her yet. Since that night at the hotel, you two had decided to spend more time together, one way or another. She needed you, not only because you were a magician and always knew how to relax her and make her forget with your skilled fingers and mouth, but because you would sit with her and simply listen. She vented to you all her frustrations, from how she felt about Ace and their life together to how the studio was running her ragged, the productions that they were doing feeling like they were utter shit. They didn’t make her feel anything but disgust and boredom, like they were wastes of time and money, missing out on all those wonderful opportunities to make the people see how the world truly was, to give the spotlight to all those minorities that deserved to be heard. Meg was a breath of fresh air for everyone, you knew she knew, and she was willing to take this risk for the betterment of the country, if it helped somehow.

Sitting in your tiny little office, eyes reading some documents Miss Kincaid had handed you perhaps half an hour ago, you could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up. Your sight was becoming blurry, the words dancing on the paper as you tried to follow the paragraph, your shoulders tense and your back beginning to hurt, muscles stiff and throbbing under your skin. It was a rewarding job, most of the time, but the extra hours you put in almost every day weren’t really necessary, in your opinion, though the mountain of reports and files that never seemed to get any smaller begged to differ. The clock on the wall chimed eight, and after one more try you just couldn’t focus on the document anymore, so you decided to call it a day, putting the pages inside a brown folder and leaving it for tomorrow, on top of the rest of files, the chair scraping slightly over the tiles as you stood. You hadn’t realised just how dark it was getting until you walked past your window, the sky blending the last strokes of purples and pink into a deep navy blue sprinkled with millions of tiny bright specks that glinted high above your head. On one side light still lingered, bathing palm trees and houses with the last few yellowy beams of the day, on the other side a blanket of night enfolding the world.

In the few years you had lived here it still amazed you how different it all was and how it felt the same each time you looked up at the sky. In the distance the streetlamps were beginning to turn on, the stars above dulled by the world down on the ground. Hollywood at night was always so full of life but you had never been too interested in partaking, even if there were times when you did go out and simply had a drink or two enjoying the atmosphere. Tonight, though wasn’t one of those nights; there had been too many meetings, too many conversations and phone calls banging in your head loud as bombs. All you wanted was silence, even if it was for a moment, an instant maybe. Tearing your eyes from the window to grab your coat you stopped mid-step, turning your head to see that Avis’s car was still in the parking lot. Yesterday you had seen it still in its designated spot as you were leaving at seven, and the day before when you had left at half past eight, but you hadn’t been sure if she was staying late every day or if this was a Meg-related thing. Now you were sure it was a normal occurrence, wondering how late she stayed each day before going home; if she went home. It was quite obvious to you that she was giving this studio more than it deserved, in your most humble opinion, but you also knew just how rewarding all this must be for her. A woman who’s never had any power at all, who’s been a housewife for more than twenty years, though that didn’t mean she had to run herself ragged just to fulfil this dream. Once again you tore your eyes from the window, picked up your coat from its hanger, and walked out of your office, locking it once you had stepped into the corridor. You didn’t even notice as the wheels of your mind began to move, your feet carrying you down to the elevator as if you were on autopilot, used to doing this little trek every day several times, but instead of pushing the ground button, you found yourself pushing the one for the first floor.

It surprised you for an instant, but then you realised you had been picturing you and Avis laying over green grass with a few sandwiches and sweet treats along with a bottle of champagne or maybe wine. It was such a lovely idea, and you knew you could wait until the weekend to do it at her place, make it absolutely perfect down to the smallest detail, but something told you that it should not wait. The door chimed as they opened to reveal the floor where the canteen and bar were, hoping that Avis would just go with the flow and trust you as you stepped into the corridor and down to the still open doors. A few boys were having the first drinks of the evening, others a bit tipsy already in a corner discussing heatedly something about a trip to Colorado in what they thought were hushed tones, but you didn’t care much. Approaching the bar, you waited until the man in the white uniform was done drying and putting away a bunch of glasses, signalling with your head that you were ready to order.

-Hi, James. Busy day?

-Not more than usual. I gotta tell you though that if you want something warm better be quick, Nick’s about to turn off the stoves for the day.

-Oh, then could you maybe get me, like, a few chicken sandwiches with lettuce and mayo and two cut up steaks? I would appreciate it. Tell Nick that potatoes are not necessary if he doesn’t want to add them, a Caesar salad on the side would work just as well.

-All that for you?

-No. I’m planning something, but I’m not telling you about it.

-You can trust me not to say a word Y/N. Who’s the lucky guy?

-Sorry, but it’s top secret. Can you give me a bottle of red wine, and some cut up fruit as well?

-Sure, just let me tell Nicky here. It’ll be a little bit, so if you want a drink while you wait…?

-No, I need to do something first, I’ll just come down when I’m done and pick it all up. Watch him with the salt though, I’m not eating another sandwich dipped in the stuff.

-It was April Fool’s, that’s all I can say, hun.

-Still, keep an eye on him.

He was a good guy, you had known him since the first day you had started working here, absolutely terrified of everyone but needing the money. It seemed as if it had been only yesterday when you first set foot in Miss Kincaid’s office shaking like a leaf, a young little thing that only wanted to impress her boss and to not get fired within the week. When you had gone down to the canteen to get yourself lunch you had seen him serving Mr. Samuels and in shock you nearly spilled your glass of juice all over the bar, but James had grabbed it just as your elbow was hitting it, saving the day, and the man’s suit. After that he had been kind and had gently guided you all through the building and the main events in your schedule so you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting through the day. He told you that you shouldn’t be that nervous, that Miss Kincaid was a real nice lady and you wouldn’t have any issues with her, which had turned out to be more than true. You owed him for that, and maybe one day you would be able to return the favour but for the time being he was more than happy to simply be your friend and a server at the studio. It paid well he said. Tapping him on his upper arm you turned away and headed back to the corridor, hearing his loud voice telling Nick about a special order as if it were one of those fancy restaurants you had seen down Sunset Boulevard.

The building was quiet, not as much as it had been that night you had shared with Avis, but the ambiance was far more relaxed than it had been in the morning, hearing your footsteps as you entered the lift, hitting the button for the top floor. In the back of your mind there had been a headache brewing, but it seemed as if the silence was soothing it, slowly vanishing into a gentle ache that maybe would fade completely as the night went by. One could only hope, of course. The doors chimed, opening with a quiet scratching noise to reveal a completely empty floor; not even Miss Stinton was at her desk anymore, having probably left an hour or so ago. Walking over the carpet your shoes made no noise, muffled as you made your way to those big oak doors, noticing how they were slightly ajar, the gentle light from the chandelier escaping and bathing the corridor in warm orange hues. Peeking through the gap you could not help the smile that graced your lips, watching Avis as she rested against the back of her chair, a pair of glasses perched perfectly on her nose, eyes moving from left to right as she took in the words written on the pages, rolling them and huffing every few seconds as if what she had in her hands was utterly disappointing. Her slender fingers with perfect manicured red nails tapped over the wooden desk in a monotone rhythm, the sleeve of her asymmetrical pink and black blouse bunched around her elbow, the fabric clinging to her ample bosom, although in her current posture, you could not see the way they rose and fell under the gown.

It would be marvellous to slip into this room, close the door, and have your way with her, making her pant and moan as you dipped to your knees, spreading her beautifully while sitting in that exact same chair, ruining the leather with each orgasm you could pull from her depths. In your dreams her screams and sweet hushed whines and whimpers would make your body shiver and burn, almost as if you could still feel her tender kisses on your skin, lingering, tasting every inch of you, her fingertips ghosting over your hips, under your jaw, it did not matter. Her presence was ever-lasting, overwhelming when you would wake up in the dark of your room, sometimes alone, sometimes with her beside you, her expensive perfume mixing with her salty essence in a perfect mix that filled your lungs and warmed your chest. You knew that once her husband recovered, if he ever did, all those late-night conversations, all those times you had driven her to your place, undressed her and simply let her sleep in your arms, all of that would go back to the shadows, hidden in every corner only able to steal glances whenever she went to the studio, only sharing her time and bed whenever her husband went away, whenever he neglected her and drove her to tears and her broken down body showed up on your doorstep. It was all a matter of time, you knew, but until that moment arrived you would savour every second life would let you have with her.

Slipping quietly through the crack you tiptoed in her direction, your heels falling onto the carpet softly so as to not draw any attention, your eyes watching her body language that although tense was also calm, focused on whatever garbage she was reading. Her presence soothed the ache you had not realised had settled in your heart since parting with her a couple of days prior, the last kiss still lingering on your cherry lips. Coming to stand behind her chair your hands traced the outline on the top, feeling the stiches under your fingers as you gently moved them to the front, coming to rest on top of her dress. The fabric was soft, the heat of her body seeping through the pink material as you gently began to move them up and down her shoulders. Avis had been so lost in her own world, the words written on the page swimming before her eyes in boredom as she let her mind wander through senseless ideas and wonderful memories, that she had not noticed you coming in, the feeling of someone’s hands on her shoulders startling her in her chair, jumping slightly until she caught a whiff of a perfume well known to her, that sweet berry aroma enfolding her completely as the sudden fear and anger at the intrusion melted away in an instant, relaxing her body into your touch. Her hat laid over the desk next to her purse, forgotten there since this morning, allowing her gorgeous ginger curls to be free and on full display, neatly pinned on top of her head and perfectly placed and soft under your lips as you landed a kiss to the crown of it.

-Hello, darling.

-Hi. – it was melodious to hear her relaxed gentle tone, every muscle in your body reacting to her voice as if she was enchanting snakes, your head coming to rest over her right shoulder, lips pecking the soft skin of her neck as the hand that had been holding onto the script let it fall on her lap, nails scratching gently your scalp, the other one removing her glasses and letting the fall over the desk. She hummed at your tender ministrations.

-I thought you would have gone home already.

-I wish. – without noticing her head lulled to the side, granting you better access as your lips moved on to that sweet spot under her ear before tracing the shape of her jawline, your hands never ceasing their rubbing on her shoulders, the hard knots palpable through her dress. - Ellen gave me these scripts to read at lunch time and I was just trying to get through the second one before going home.

-Any good?

-No. They really are shit, Y/N. No feeling, no art, there’s nothing here. I’ve read instructions on how to build shelves that made me feel more than this!

-I know, I watched “All Hands on Deck”.

-I told Ace not to green-light it, but he was adamant. – she was beginning to heat up in frustration, but your skilled fingers rubbing those sore spots relaxed her almost instantly, her head falling back against the leather as you pecked her cheek, her eyes closing with a contented sigh. -He said it was good, that it would do well, and it’s one of the worst we’ve made. Where are the meaningful stories? – the way her hands moved of their own accord, emphasising her words even as her body melted against your lips, was a delightful sight. She felt everything so strongly. - Where are the tears, the suffering, the love, the betrayals, the passion… This doesn’t show life, it shows fairytales that are not even that. It’s just crap.

-They are not Meg.

-They are not Meg.  

-People are talking about it you know. A lot. Good things, bad things, in-betweens.

-I know it’s a risk but honestly Y/N, you should read it, you should see it. It’s a breath of fresh air and Camille is marvellous, probably one of the best we’ve ever had. – every fibre of her being was practically beaming with pride, her body turning the chair around so she could face you, forcing your hands to slip from her shoulders, but it didn’t matter if the prize was seeing those sparkles of pride in her eyes, the way they glowed as her smile grew bigger with each word. -  If Ace saw it, he would be red with rage, but I stand by this.

-I know you do. People here think that you are a scary tyrant, they expect you to be like him, but you are nothing like that. You know this is the right thing, that this film will matter, that some little girl in a tiny village will see someone like her on screen and think “I can do that. I can be anything”. You are changing lives as we speak, darling.

-Many people don’t agree with you. More than a hundred theatres in the South have already written saying that they won’t show it and have pulled some of the other films as a boycott to try and get us to cancel Meg.

-But you won’t. – you knew that Helena Rubinstein made Avis’s skincare perfectly suited to her, but it still amazed you how soft her cheeks were whenever you placed your palms over them, your thumbs rubbing circles on her jaw before your fingers travelled to the nape of her neck feeling a few flyways that had escaped her perfectly coifed hair.

-Of course. I’ve put too much work and faith in this to pull it now. I might tank the studio but at least we’ll go with a film that will mean something.

-You won’t tank it; Ellen has already mentioned that you’ve sued Lawson, Daniels and McHadden for breach of contract and that there’s theatres in the North that have already assured they will have security so they can show it. People might hate it, but there will be millions who won’t. I have a feeling that this will only be the beginning of a promising string of movies made not by Ace Studios, but by you, Avis Amberg.

-You believe in me more than I do.

-It’s easy. – the red of her lips had faded somewhat since lunch time, her plump mouth calling your name, her eyes looking at you with such expectancy that it almost made you weak in the knees. You were tempted to bend over and claim them but for some reason you could not stray away your eyes from hers, so deep and wide, looking up at you without any barriers, no walls to keep herself hidden away from you. Your thumb traced her bottom lip softly not even smudging her carmine as you did so, but the action didn’t carry a sexual innuendo, as enticing and beautiful as Avis was, it was a simple caring gesture. - I know you and I know that everything you do, you do contemplating risks and prizes, rewards that will be at the end of the line. Meg is the start; it will be the hardest of them all just because of that, but once this one’s through, and I’m sure it will be, the rest will just fall perfectly into place.

-Assuming Ace lets me carry on with it all when he wakes up.

-If he didn’t, he would be a fool. There’s talent inside you Avis, there always has been but men are too blind to see it simply because one does not fall into their category of pretty or obedient. Ace will know just how good you are when Meg becomes the biggest hit this studio has ever produced. He won’t be able to deny that this success was all due to you.

Your words dug deep into Avis’s heart, burrowing and settling deep, almost feeling as if you were marking her very soul. She had been in the shadows her whole life; yes, everyone knew who she was and any time she set foot in a room she filled it up with her power and personality but whenever she returned home the halls were cold, silent, no comfort kisses, no sweet words murmured in her ear. She was a forgotten woman in her own marriage, and she hated it more than anything. She hated how insignificant Ace had made her feel all this time and how bitter it had turned her, self-conscious of her abilities as if she didn’t have the right to think she was made for something else than just staying at home. Every day of her life had been a miserable dance of biting words and fake smiles surrounded by an atmosphere of empty luxury until you waltzed in, and everything since that night had turned from a bleak void into something worth fighting for. She was unsure how you did it, but you did it anyway; you made her feel special, unique, as if she actually mattered, that she was worth a million dollars every day she woke up, every second.

Locking eyes with you she could see the truth that glazed them, the adoration and love seeping from every pore of your body and mingling with her skin, and like a teenager, she felt herself blush, a gentle smile painting her lips. You believed in her with every fibre of your being like no one had believed before and that meant more than all the jewellery and priceless pieces of art she had been gifted in more than twenty years of marriage. She would throw them all away if it meant simply hearing you say those words for the rest of her life. The script had fallen at her feet some time ago, but she hadn’t noticed, too lost in you to actually care. Her hands held onto your wrists, keeping them in place on her cheeks as she turned her head to place a kiss on your left palm, the red lipstick leaving an imprint that you didn’t want to ever part with. With the way you always responded to her every touch it didn’t surprise her with how much ease she could pull you to her, your body falling on her lap as each leg rested on her sides, coming to straddle her, your face barely a few inches from hers. Your brain barely registered the way your fingers were now playing with the hair on the back of her head, pulling pins here and there to let one single curl fall to her shoulder, twirling it gently, almost playfully.

-It’s not only me you know, there’s Camille, Ellen, Dick, Jack… There’s an entire studio behind this one.

-But you gave it the go-ahead. You trusted this story with the right cast, you took a risk that no one else would have done. This script is something, and you knew from the very beginning even if you didn’t think they would let Camille do it. This beautiful Jew I’m looking at will make history.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest so full of love that she feared she might explode, her eyes blurry with tears for an instant, but she didn’t give you the chance to watch them fall. Her kiss was hard, borderline bruising even, and yet you could not pull away, her lips soft as her hands cradled your face. Your mouth opened of its own accord to grant her the access her tongue was begging you for, tracing the shape of your teeth and giving you the opportunity to scrape her lower lip, a rumbling moan sliding from Avis’s throat at the feeling. If magic truly existed you would have cast a spell so your body would be able to mingle with hers down to the last atom, feeling her completely under your skin, in your bones, in your blood, your minds dancing around in each other as a thin red thread built and wrapped around you both. To live as one even for an instant, not knowing where Avis ended and you began, so utterly connected that neither of you would ever feel alone, abandoned on the curb of some dark road without direction, would be as grand as letting yourself sink to the depths of the ocean with her hand holding yours, forever united. As your lungs began to scream for air she had to pull away, chests rising and falling fast, the sound of your breaths the only noise in that big office. Avis’s eyes were slightly dilated, and you would have loved to simply take her, she probably had the same idea, you thought, but she needed to get out of that studio, to smell fresh air and leave work behind, at least for one night.

-What would I do without you?

-Break records and that ceiling glass that keeps us from reaching the top. I’m not some miracle that has turned you into a new woman Avis; all that power and skill has always been inside you. The only thing I’m doing is loving you, showing you what I see so that you can realise it and see it for yourself.

-But you are a miracle, Y/N. Mine. – rubbing right under your lower lip she wiped your smudged lipstick with her thumb, her eyes moving from your mouth back to your eyes. There was a single streak on her right cheek where her tear had blurred her rouge slightly, but it didn’t seem to bother her, not with the way her eyes were glinting under the light of the chandelier as she looked at you.

-You are going to make me blush, Avis.

-Not a bad sight in my opinion. Your face all red and pink just for me. I wonder if I could make you red everywhere else. – her voice was all husky and quiet, whispered against your lips almost, sending a shiver down your spine as her hands settled on your hips to pull you closer. Perhaps getting out of this office was going to be harder than anticipated.

-None of that now, you and I have plans for tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I would love for you to leave all me red and bruised, but I think that what I have in mind in going to be a welcome change.

-Oh? Any hints?

-You are far too smart; you’d find out within a minute. Just trust me to take care of you and make this wonderful, okay?

-I would go anywhere with you, you know it, but right now, anything to get me away from these horrid scripts is more than welcome.

-And what are you going to do about them?

-Tell Harold and the other guy tomorrow to fix it or they’ll be out on the street by Monday next week. Ace might have liked these movies simply because they were money makers, which they are not now, but I’m running this studio, and I won’t accept this crap, not anymore. If they want to write shit like this, they can do it in the streets.

-Always so sure of your choices. They’ll learn soon enough that you have taste, but no more of that talk now. If we hurry, we might get to see the last few seconds of the sunset.

Removing yourself from her lap was a herculean task, her hands holding you in place with a harder grip than you had foreseen but of course, there was that lust in her eyes, that possessive tinge around her chocolate irises that was practically screaming at you to forget all plans and just ravish her right there. She would do anything to keep you close and yet your fingers let go of her hair, pinning that loose soft curl back before letting your hands slid over her shoulders. Her fingers wouldn’t let go as you stood, the tips still lingering over the fabric of your white flowy dress but as you took one step back, she was forced to let them slip slowly off your hips, though you didn’t leave her any chance of dropping her hand to her sides or over the armrests. Tenderly your fingers intertwined and with a surprisingly gentle strength, you pulled her to you, her heels landing quietly over the carpet. There was a childish curiosity in her eyes that thrilled you to no end; the fact that you had the ability to always keep her guessing without making her feel as if she was in the dark about what was going on in your relationship was a refreshing change from all those late minute invitations to parties or boring dinners that she had to attend with Ace without the chance of saying no. Rounding the corner of the desk Avis had to let go of one of your hands to grab her hat and purse, but she made no effort to place the first on her head, over her perfect curls. The people left in the building wouldn’t pay much attention to her and if they did take notice, they wouldn’t comment on of the fact that she wasn’t wearing it.

Grabbing your coat from the back of the couch you guided Avis towards the door, flicking the lights off and letting her push the heavy wooden doors close behind you. In the darkness of the office, next to the desk, the script remained forgotten over the carpet. Walking beside you, Avis chatted about how her day had been, the doors to the lift opened and you quickly pushed the button for the first floor once again. Avis raised an eyebrow at that, but you remained quiet, simply smiling politely at her, though a sneaky grin did make its way to your lips when you turned your face back to the doors just as the lift stopped. Stepping out Avis had to let go of your hand. She was getting better with the public displays of affection; a quick peck on your cheek, fingers touching but never holding, a hand on your lower back or yours resting on her upper arm, still she could not bring herself to hold your hand fully. She worried what people might say, how they might react, not towards her, they didn’t have the balls to even look at her when she walked past them let alone tell her off, but you were far more approachable and people could be cruel, not to mention that one slip up and your picture could end up on the front page of a magazine before she could stop it. There was an emptiness in your chest that you didn’t appreciate at all as her hand dropped to her side but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Avis saw that sadness in your posture, a veil of disappointment shading your eyes, but it wasn’t directed at her. In an attempt to lift your spirits somewhat she looked at the door of the canteen and up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was looking or heading this way before she grabbed your face and kissed you gently.

Your entire frame relaxed into her lips, her palms warm against your cheeks and her fingers falling in between soft locks of hair that had escaped your braid and were now framing your face. When she broke the kiss, leaving you slightly dumbfounded, she was quick to wipe your once again smudged carmine, your neurons short-circuiting for a moment before you were able to function again. It was okay if the pecks were given while Ellen or Dick were in the room, or when Gertie and Mr. Breaton, the old man that worked at the gates of Avis’s house, could enter the room at any given moment, but a kiss so public was not a usual thing she engaged in. Thinking about it you realised that the only time you had kissed in a semi-public space had been on New Year’s Eve while you were still in the car in front of the restaurant, but back then many of the people in the streets were drunk, so they wouldn’t remember anyway. Kissing you at the studio in such a public area was a risk you had not expected her to take but the happiness it filled you with overshadowed the sadness of not holding her hand. With hushed words, you asked her to wait there as you turned and entered the canteen watching joyfully as James placed containers of food on top of the bar as Nicky handed them to him through the tiny window connecting the room to the kitchen.

-Just in time, Y/N!

-I couldn’t have done it better if I had timed it, eh? Did you leave Nick alone with the salt?

-Not for one second. – he had a bright smile, one of the things his wife loved the most he had told you one day when you first started having lunch there, apart from his plumbing skills, and he flashed you one full with teeth as he pulled out a mesh bag from under the bar  and placed the bottle of red wine you had requested along with a bottle of champagne, winking at you. It was obvious you were going on a date but there really was no need for champagne, but you were not going to say no to the guilty pleasure you knew Avis had. From underneath the coffee machine, he pulled a wicker basket, placing it on top of the bar so he could start placing all the containers inside along with some cutlery and a couple of paper cups. – Nicky has added some roasted potatoes he had left from some dish or something, hope you don’t mind.

-No, not at all.

-Then that’s all, I think. The sandwiches, the steaks with some salad and potatoes, the drinks and the fruit.

-Yeah, that’s everything. Thanks a bunch, James. How much do I owe you? – you pulled your wallet from your coat pocket, but he shook his head and pushed your hand away from him.

-This one’s on us. We would have thrown the food away anyway. You and your secret love enjoy it; but don’t get too drunk.

-You know I never do. Are you sure you don’t even want a twenty?

-I’m sure. It was actually Nicky’s orders, and you know him, no taking back. Go and have fun.

-Thanks, James. See you tomorrow. Bye, Nick!

From the tiny window the face of a big man with beady blue eyes popped out, his deep rumbling voice wishing you a goodnight as you picked the basket and the drinks, waving back to them both. When you stepped into the hallway Avis wasn’t anywhere to be found, a sudden fear that she might have stood you up, leaving you looking like an idiot with all that food, or that someone could have come and given her some news that had required her to leave, assaulting your mind as you headed one way of the corridor looking for her, but when you reached the ending of the foyer she wasn’t there, so you turned the other way. The despair that had bloomed just a few seconds ago growing exponentially. Rounding the corner your eyes caught a glimpse of a pink dress, registering after half a second her frame leaning against the wall, next to a window smoking a cigarette. A relieved breath escaped you, drawing her attention. She wasn’t the sort of woman that would leave like that, you knew so, but you had had partners that had behaved like that or even worse, making you wait for hours in a restaurant until closing time, drink after drink filling the table as you had cried in silence, and maybe, you thought bitterly, some of those issues were still lingering inside you. It made you feel quite bad the way you had reacted, as if you didn’t trust her enough, as if you believed her capable of doing such a thing when you knew perfectly well that she would never hurt you like that. Releasing the smoke she had inhaled, Avis noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you clung to the basket and the mesh bag, her body suddenly completely alert and rushing to you.

-Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?

-It’s nothing. I’m fine now, let’s go.

-Y/N, talk to me. – she flipped the butt of the cigarette out the ajar window before placing both hands on your forearms, thumbs rubbing circles through the fabric of your coat and dress. - You know you can trust me.

-You are going to think it’s stupid, which you wouldn’t be wrong about, to be honest.

-I promise I won’t. Did someone say something? I will fire them immediately.

-No, no. I just didn’t see you when I came out of the canteen and… I thought you had left.

-Oh, doll, I wouldn’t leave you without telling you and if I had to, I would take you with me if I could.

-I know. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.

-It’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?

-A few times. I know that you would never do something like that but for some reason, I thought you had. Which makes me feel really bad now.

-Don’t feel like that. – the carpet all of a sudden seemed the most interesting part of this entire hallway, but Avis didn’t let you keep your glance downcast, she placed her fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at her. It struck her hard how vulnerable you looked, how much like a scared child you seemed to be with those sad eyes, and she internally cursed about how little she actually knew about you and your past, only a few snippets here and there. Your love life was not something you divulged or talked about while Avis’s conquests were well known to you, and she couldn’t help but feel as if there were pieces of you she still had to find. But she knew that the only thing she had to do was ask you for them and wait until you were ready to hand them out. - You are the best thing in my life, Y/N; I won’t ever leave you. I would never simply walk out on you when you go to such lengths to make me happy, going out of your way to grant me wishes I didn’t even know I had. Don’t ever doubt my love for you or how much you mean to me.

-I don’t, it was just a moment when my demons took the best of me. Relationships like this are still something relatively new to me, but we’ve been through too much for me to lose my trust in you. Still, I appreciate your words Avis, truly. I’m fine now, let’s not let this ruin our plans.

She needed to make sure you were a hundred percent okay, to know that this wasn’t deeper than you were letting on. With a gentle grip around your biceps she stopped you before you could turn away from her, bending to kiss you tenderly, pressing her forehead against yours for a few instants. Just as she didn’t know how you did it, how you made her feel this way, you weren’t sure how she managed to always make you feel safe, protected, and cared for, as if her hands could shield you from every single horrible thing in the world and keep you both inside a bubble where nothing bad could ever happen. Where she could love you forever and always. The heat her body expelled wrapped around you in the silent corridor, the sun casting waves of pink behind Avis in gentle halos that bathed her frame as you separated slightly, the pastel colour moving around her as if a painter was applying brushstrokes all around. Without a word she took the mesh bag from your right hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, and pulled you back down the corridor until you stood in front of the lift once again. No one was there to see you, no one would have cared if they had, and a little bubble of happiness enfolded your heart as she never let go of your hand, not even when you both stepped out onto the ground floor and headed for the front doors to set foot out into the world.

It was a small gesture to show you just how much she truly loved you, a promise that she wasn’t leaving you even if the universe fell apart. You couldn’t truly understand why she was so against holding your hand in public, after all she had been seen touching your back or your arm, even with her hand on your shoulder, your bodies never more than a foot apart from each other. You were even sure someone must have seen her kissing you on the cheek at this point, and yet she still drew the line at holding hands. But despite it all she was crossing the hall knowing that the few people left would see, her action a statement to you but mostly to herself that you were far more important than gossip or a few pictures. You were her friend, her partner, her therapist, her doctor, anything and everything, and if she could have had it her way you would have been her wife already. So, if people wanted to talk, let them talk, they were bound to find something to gossip about anyway, and she wasn’t going to push her happiness to the back of her mind and heart anymore, nor yours. Her grip was strong but never painful, the warm breeze that greeted you both as you stepped out of the building carrying a soft aroma of the first flowers that were beginning to bloom, perhaps a bit early, but nevertheless beautiful in between the deep green grass and moss. You walked to the parking lot and towards her car, but you quickly pulled her arm in the direction of yours, meeting a raised eyebrow.

-I know a place that you will love.

-You don’t want to have dinner at home, in the garden maybe?

-I would love to, but you need to see this spot, believe me. Come on, I won’t crash the car or anything.

There it was, that melodious loud laugh of hers that made your every limb tingle. It rang as clear as glass, echoing ever so slightly in the nearly empty parking lot, and you could not help but join her with quiet chuckles as you pulled her to your Packard. You met no resistance whatsoever and made quick work of the basket by placing it in the trunk along with the drinks that Avis kindly handed to you. Whatever you had planned was bound to be good taking in account the bottles she had taken notice of; an expensive bubbly that she adored with its fruity aftertaste and its smooth flavour, and a rich, slightly sweet red wine that she had every once in a while with her meals, never on its own, and that was a perfect companion for meats and desserts. Just before you closed the trunk Avis caught a whiff of the delicious aroma of roasted potatoes and gravy, her stomach rumbling quietly as she realised just how hungry she was, not having had a bite since lunch time, only coffee and a glass or two of whiskey to keep her running.

Being out of the office was already doing her some good, the tension in her shoulders slipping down her arms as she rounded the side of the car to get into the passenger’s seat but not before closing her eyes and simply taking in a deep breath of fresh air, the last few beams the sun cast down onto the ground warming her face. An instant later she was settled beside you. The car already smelled liked you, that precious berry perfume that you sprayed on each morning clinging to the leather in transparent rivulets that filled Avis’s lungs as you turned the engine on and began to back out of the spot before heading to the gates, the comfort of it making her relax in her seat, resting an arm on the back of it and using her hand as a perch for her head. With her cheek on her palm, she was able to take you in, never tiring of simply staring at you. It felt as if every time her eyes landed upon your perfect face, she found a new feature she hadn’t seen before, like tiny little freckles on your high cheekbones or a beauty mark on the tip of your nose that was almost invisible unless the person was extremely close to you.

But the ones she had engraved in her memory were the ones she loved to take in again and again. She adored the way your full lips curled inward just a bit when you smiled, the way your cheeks dimpled ever so slightly, or how you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating on something. Every little aspect of you was like a wave of mint in her veins, overwhelming and overpowering the rotten stench of her life before she met you. She knew that you were young, younger probably than most of the boys she had had at the gas station, but you were far more mature than any of them and there was something so utterly intricate and beautiful in the way you always seemed to find joy in everything and everyone. She had no desire to destroy all that wonderful happiness that you carried with you wherever you went. People like you are what was needed in this world, and she hoped you would never ever lose what made you so special, so unique and interesting to her. You weren’t some passing fancy though, no, she had had plenty of those in twenty years and it had always ended quickly and messy; with you, it was something true and real and she wished to never be parted from your side until her last day on this Earth.

The sun would set soon over the horizon; you had lost too much time at the studio you thought, but you weren’t about to be a driving hazard simply to get to that spot you knew, to risk both your lives for something that you could go up to the rooftop of the building and watch while holding each other close. If you got there in time, it would be wonderful but if you didn’t it was perfectly alright as well, as long as Avis was happy with what you had arranged in the five minutes it had taken you to leave your office and to go down to the canteen, you would be content. Swerving the car onto the freeway you rested comfortably against the back of your seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Avis turned the dials of the radio until she found a song she liked, returning her head to its previous position over her hand, her feet tapping to the rhythm while humming. There was a gentle tug on your coat, and you looked down for a moment to see her free hand playing with the hem of it absentmindedly, moving her eyes between you and the road ahead every couple of minutes. Those deep chocolate irises observing you, drinking your every movement, made you blush like a schoolgirl, cheeks and neck turning a pale pink even though her touches were nothing but harmless twirlings of the fabric in between her fingers, her skin never brushing yours as to not make you lose concentration on the road.

The spot you were driving to wasn’t really that far away, but the secondary roads were a nightmare to get through and Avis was about to find out as you took the exit that pointed out Runyon Canon. She sat a bit straighter when she saw the sign, dropping her hand to her side, and turned her head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t personally been there but the boys at the studio had mentioned that there were a few nice picnic spots with tables and everything, and as much as she liked the idea of having one with you she was also slightly disappointed that you had decided on some place where there would no privacy whatsoever. She liked being alone with you, no families with screaming children or passersby that would go climbing early next morning, she wanted it to be just the two of you, but she wasn’t going to voice her opinion. You had done things for her that no one else had, she could go through this for you. The first pothole got you both off guard as the light began to dim, your foot slipping from the brakes a little as Avis fell slightly on her side, having to use her hands to stabilise herself on your arm and shoulder. A curse echoed in the cabin of the car as she tried to sit back on her side, but the bumps were making her slide off the leather due to the fabric of her dress and without a second thought she pulled the black skirt from under her thighs hoping that her bare flesh against the seat would help her stay in place. Of course, you had not been expecting that and when you turned your head to see what on earth she was doing you were hit with the sight of the fabric bunched up around her hips, those shapely and delightful legs displayed in nude stockings before you, and oh God, those voluptuous breasts of hers were practically spilling out of her skewed blouse. Without thinking twice, you braked in the middle of nowhere, a cloud of dust enfolding the car, Avis’s body jerking forward before falling back against the seat.

-Y/N! A little warning next time. Is this where you wanted to take me? I’m not saying that it’s not pretty honey, but…

The words were drowned by your mouth on hers, the hand brake nearly forgotten in your hurry to get your hands on her body. You had been fighting hard against your better judgment, but it seemed that you had lost, though you could not say you were saddened by it, not when your hands were holding onto her hips under all that bunched up fabric, digging your fingers hard on her hot flesh, lips on lips pushing her back against the seat without realising it. Avis had not even thought of the fact that she would be half undressed in your presence and your reaction was perhaps a bit too forward for her at first, mainly shocked by it, but she wasn’t about to complain when she had been craving you all day and hadn’t had the chance to have a quicky in her office. When she parted her lips to grant you access, she was pleasantly surprised by the force with which you sucked on her tongue and bit down on her lower lip. The moan that resonated from her making her entire body vibrate, her hands digging hard into the leather to keep herself upright. Just as suddenly as you had assaulted her mouth you separated, eyes filled with such lust Avis thought she might drown in such passion, your body hovering over hers.

-If you want to actually get to the spot and have a nice date with me, I suggest you cover those legs or I’m going to bury myself between them and not let you out of this car until tomorrow morning.

-That’s not a bad prospect darling. That mouth of yours is quite talented.

-God Avis, I’m really trying here to not fuck your brains out, help me out, will you?

-Why would I? – her body pressed against yours, that delicious heat seeping though your thin dress as one of her hands lifted from the seat to rest over the one that was on her right hip, making it travel in between her legs until your fingers were barely an inch away from her centre. She was always warm, hot against your skin, but God, she was burning in between her legs, and your fingers could not help moving closer until they brushed the soaking lace. Avis’s head fell back at the contact, a groan filling up the cabin as you moved slowly up and down. She was absolutely drenched; this couldn’t have been just from now.

-You’ve been fantasizing about me have you not?

-Hmmm, yes. – a gasp escaped her when you pressed your thumb to her clit through her underwear, eyes rolling briefly to the back of her head. - Reversing roles, are we?

-You seemed to enjoy it the other day. – scrapping your teeth on her neck, Avis felt as if she might combust right there and then, your tongue licking the soft skin before your lips made their way to her ear. - How about we make a deal? You let me take you to that spot and we have a nice date, and I might be tempted to ravish you later. But only if those legs remain covered.

-Where are you taking me? – your hand stopped its motions over her centre, a quiet whine parting from Avis’s lips as she locked eyes with you, but your hand didn’t move from its spot on her inner thigh, ghosting over the flesh and drawing goosebumps and shivers that made her ache even more for you.

-I ask the questions today darling. Deal or not?

-Deal.

She could not lie, the prospect of you fucking her out in the wild with people barely a few feet away, hidden by trees or one of those big picnic tables, set her on fire and this whole act of her belonging to you, that possessiveness was just fucking amazing. Like the well-behaved lady she was she pushed as much of her dress as she could over her thighs, pressing them together without thinking to gain a bit of friction. Your body didn’t move away from her quiet yet though; the hand that had just been in between her legs when up to her collar, feather-like touches making the air in her lungs hitch, feeling how it moved down her sternum and over her breasts, bending your head until you could lick the swell of her left tit before you pushed yourself back into your seat leaving her absolutely flustered. She had taught you a trick or two on how to toy with people, and you weren’t about to waste this opportunity. Pushing the hand brake down and shifting into first gear the car began to move again, the potholes and bumps not helping Avis’s situation in the slightest, but you weren’t much better either, with the way her bosom jiggled and bounced you were actually finding it extremely hard to keep your end of the deal.

Finally, and you did send a prayer to the heavens for it, you saw the entrance to Runon Park and the designated area for picnics, but just before reaching it you swerved the car to the left and followed a slightly covered path for a mile or so, the trees tall and dense around you but allowing for the very last beams of light to still come through them, illuminating the way. Avis’s breath caught in her throat at the sight when you drove past the last tree, coming into a secluded clearing. All the lust and fire moved temporarily to the back of her mind as she took it all in from the way the canyon dropped into a deep abyss barely six feet from where you were parking to the vast green that seemed to go on into the horizon, endless and absolutely breathtaking. This… this was better than what she could have ever imagined. Without thinking, without command, her body stepped out of the car almost as if she was suddenly living in slow motion, the skirt falling around her legs properly, but she barely registered it with her hand on the warm steel of the hood, each step she took crunching twigs under her heels. How had she lived in Hollywood for over twenty years, and had never been here? The warm breeze caressed her face, its waves carrying the fresh aromas of pines and wood that melted against her skin as the floral accents from the very first violets and snowdrops danced around her in a harmony of fragrances that filled every cell in her body.  

Under her feet deep emerald green grass grew up until the very edge of the cliff and in a need to see she stepped forward until she was barely a foot from it, the abyss deep and terrifying but so stunning that she could not feel fear. Looking to the West a waterfall burst from the rocks, its waters strong and transparent as they poured and fell down to the valley more than two hundred feet beneath her, where a river of powerful currents and acute meanders adorned the scenery, the sounds the wind carried kissing Avis’s ears in sweet gurgles and murmurs of water that filled her heart with such emotion that she could not even comprehend what she was seeing. Every tree, every rock and bush were placed almost strategically as if God had taken his time with this spot only for you both to see. She could not understand how the plateaus where she stood along with the one across the valley were so full of green, trees as tall as buildings gracing the world with a rainbow of greens and browns as they grew, while beneath them rocks as red as fire stood, the careful lines and topography of curves, columns and arches contrasting with the weeping willows and fragile riverbend plants that grew in between the rivulets of bluish crystal waters at the bottom of the valley. Looking down to the East the world was a song of fire, the canyon going on for miles with both gentle curves and acute angles that would have been hidden under seas of green had the river not carved its path deep within them.

Avis couldn’t steer her eyes from it all, observing the way the leaves swayed in the breeze, white butterflies dancing tenderly between the petals of white daffodils and red poppies, the splatters of colour spread throughout the grass in mosaics. There was a ruffle coming from some bushes across the valley, and Avis watched intently as a deer walked out into the evening sun, standing tall and proud with its growing antlers close to the edge as it almost held her gaze, its magnificence making her wonder if she had ever seen one in the flesh. Crossing the streaks of blue that still remained in the skies above, eagles cut through the winds, wings spread wide as their loud calls accompanied the flow of the waterfall. Her eyes had never seen such beauty; the world had always seemed like such a fast paced universe to live in that she had never taken the time to simply stop and step aside from the current of people, but standing here, where nature seemed to carry on without noticing humans even existed, was as if she was seeing her home for the first time, and she could only think about how beautiful it all was. There were eagles nowhere else but on this planet, bees and dragonflies could only buzz and sway over rivers and fields of daisies in this planet the same way that roses and pine trees could only grow and thrive here and she had never realised it until now, when the world was quiet and society laid miles away.

A pair of hands came to lay on her waist, startling her ever so slightly before they wrapped themselves around her as your head rested over her shoulder, and in murmured words you told her to look over to the waterfall. Her head returned to the West slowly, unsure of where her eyes should be, but upon landing them on the spot, both of you watched enthralled as the sun began its last descent. The sky was dressed in thin veils of pink and purple silk before the last golden glow of the day bathed the earth, it’s warmth melting against Avis’s face, only disturbed by the elusive touch of green beams that only a few handful of people had ever managed to catch, its perfect light turning the red sandstones and crystal waters into a world of molten gold and emeralds before it all turned dark and the sky above began to blend its indigo blue into a deep navy one. High up in the sky was now a full moon, lighting the world with white rays as to not leave it in a deep terrifying darkness, all the animals vanishing from the land to return home while others woke up to start their day. The world had turned silver.  

-Was it worth the wait? – your voice whispered in her ear as your hot breath sent a shiver down her spine in a reflex response to your touch.

-Words cannot describe it Y/N. This place… how did you find it?

-When you are lonely and homesick you try to find places that bring you comfort, that make you feel as if you’ve never left. I found this one in one of those moments. I had been driving my old car around, getting familiar with the roads, and I took a wrong turn that turned out to be a right one.

-It’s beautiful.

-It was beautiful, now that you are here, it’s perfect.

Romance had seemed such a soppy affair, with all the compliments and shows of affection and love, but by George, was Avis absolutely adoring it all, red as a beet at your words and so very thankful that it was night, and you could not fully see it. Her hands were resting over yours, rubbing and gently moving her fingers over your soft skin as you both remained standing there observing it all, taking in the scenery for a moment or two. The waterfall seemed to have slowed down its incessant pour, the water falling gently from rock to rock, the once bright green moss now reflecting the moonlight as if they were diamonds framing the silvery currents, the grass vast seas of white as the breeze moved them from side to side. She could stay here forever, build a small wooden cottage and live with you, hidden from the world, not having to worry about whether people would approve of you, the doctors unable to call her and remind her that she had a husband in a comatose state, no Meg to think about, no studio to run, just you, her and nature. A most wonderful dream indeed. With a deep breath, the pine fragrance filling her lungs, she felt you turn her around, an astonished gasp escaping her parted lips when she saw a checkered blanket over the ground along with the basket and the mesh bag, a turned-off lantern resting on the side. You were quick, she thought, or maybe she had been truly lost in her surroundings, either way, she was pleasantly surprised by it all and let you guide her to the makeshift dinning room.

Your heels came off, resting on the side, away from the blanket, and in a similar manner Avis removed hers, letting her body fall as gently as she could onto the ground, tucking her legs under her while your flowy dress covered your crossed ones. It wasn’t supper by candlelight, but at least the lantern gave enough illumination when you turned it on, with the lighter that you had picked up from Avis’s purse, that you wouldn’t have to bring the fork an inch from your face to see what on earth you were biting on, the mesh bag falling onto the grass as Avis pulled the bottles and left the champagne over the blanket to work on opening the wine. You both worked in silence, containers resting in between you before you began to remove the lids, the wonderful smell of roasted potatoes covered in gravy and steak surrounding you both while the coolness of the sandwiches remained on the side, a big bowl of Caesar salad in the middle so you could share. Putting the fruit back in the basket so they wouldn’t be in the way. The cork of the wine came out with a pop, Avis pouring the deep cherry liquid into one of the paper cups and passing it to you before serving herself, raising it in the air.

-Cheers.

-Cheers. – it was utterly delicious. You were not much of a wine person if you were being honest, you were perhaps more modern or glamorous, always ordering cocktails, but the fruity aftertaste it left on your tongue was magnificent, simply delicious and lifting your eyes from the cup you could see Avis was enjoying it just as much.

-So, what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?

-We have Nick’s special, of course, steak with potatoes and salad, and on the side some chicken sandwiches because I was not very sure what you fancied. Maybe I went a little bit overboard, but my grandma used to say that it was best to have leftovers than to leave hungry.

-Your grandma was a very wise lady. Should I go first and try the salad?

-Whatever you desire, etiquette is not compulsory here, darling. – picking up her fork she stabbed a piece of chicken practically drenched in the dressing along with some lettuce and using her left hand as a barrier so the food wouldn’t satin her dress should it fall, she popped it all in her mouth. God, it was delicious, the lettuce crunchy and fresh, a crouton she hadn’t seen shattering in her mouth in a perfect balance of salty as the parmesan melted on her tongue along with the juicy chicken, her starving stomach taking it all as if it was a heavenly meal. She probably hadn’t noticed but she had moaned loud and clear, eyes briefly closing as she let the simple flavours assault her, but you had, and you could not say whether you were happy she liked so much or far too bewitched by her that even the slightest noise was music to your ears, as if you were listening to the London Philharmonic, a chuckle escaping your lips as you took some of the salad yourself.

-God, I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.

-If you are reacting like that to just the salad, I’m worried the potatoes and gravy will kill you.

-I’m not. You know how to resuscitate me with that tongue of yours. – she had said it with such a nonchalant tone before bringing another bite of the salad to her mouth that you chocked on your wine, a splatter or two landing on your cheeks. One point to Avis she thought, watching your flushed face as you wiped the specks of deep red liquid from your skin, a naughty smirk painting her lips that’s she hid quite well behind her own cup of wine. – Are you alright? Did something go down the wrong pipe?

-Don’t act as if you didn’t just almost kill me, but yes, I’m fine.

-Me? I haven’t touched you, honey. I think you know very well when and how I could send you to the heavens… or hell, whatever you prefer.

-Are trying to seduce me?

-Is it working?

That raised eyebrow was such a turn on for some reason, but Avis didn’t move from her spot, simply bent over to stick her fork on some of the steak, doing the same motion with her left hand as before but your eyes were clearly staring at another part of her body that wasn’t her face. You would have to get professional help to understand why you were so goddamn in love with her breasts; what sort of magic did they possess to make you shiver and burn at just the simple sight of them? It was playful banter, a game of cat and mouse that you knew she loved, but this time you didn’t answer, simply sat back and watched her chew on the meat, the sound of her humming in approval at the flavour reaching your ears. You could have prepared a better picnic, you could have brought candles and dried rose petals and made it all far more romantic but there was that spark in Avis’s eyes that told you it was perfect. With her hand left hand now resting over the grass she let her fingers rub and gently move in between the twigs and tiny little flowers, the moonlight reflecting on top of your head as the orange light from the lantern cast shadows over your face. She wondered for a moment who did you look like most; was it that grandmother you had mentioned or perhaps your father? Who did you inherit that nose of yours from or those blond locks that swayed in the warm breeze around the nape of your neck? A question assaulted her suddenly, out of curiosity more than anything else.

-When was the last time you talked with your mother?

-Oh. – it caught you off guard the drastic change of topic, but you couldn’t say that you were mad. It was natural for her to want to know more about you, after all, you had kept most of your private life secured away, afraid that she might find you too much of a foreigner or maybe simply lose interest since you were nothing like her acquaintances. But you wouldn’t have brought her here if you were not ready to share, you thought, knowing how much this whole place meant. – Well, I wrote to her last week, so I think that the response should arrive in maybe a couple of weeks.

-You don’t phone her?

-I can’t afford international calls. I do try though, on Christmas or birthdays, but sometimes I can’t. So, letters are the best method.

-Where are you from? You’ve talked about your home, but you’ve never told me. – grabbing a handkerchief Avis picked half of a chicken sandwich, eyes never leaving your face as your eyes glazed with memories untold, deep secrets you cherished in your heart, a tender smile growing on your lips.

-P/B. We are from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, a couple of hours from the capital actually. I can’t say that we live on a farm but some of my neighbours do. It’s not as exciting as coming from New York, I’m afraid.

-No, but I’m sure is more beautiful. This place reminds you of home you said, and I can’t help but wonder just how much.

-Well, vast fields surround the village, and they seem endless as they go on and on into the horizon. – with your fork you stabbed one of the potatoes, biting down on it as steam curled in front of you, the thin layer of gravy mixing beautifully with the rosemary and the fat that coated the vegetable, swallowing before continuing. - In winter they are all brown and yellow as the farmers prepare the soil for the next sowing, although in some of the areas there are already tiny little sprouts growing before December is over. They might not look pretty at first, but if you go out early in the morning, when the sun is dawning, the olive trees rest among a thin fog that leaves very fragile layers of ice over the branches, and morning dew drops form over the grass that’s beginning to break from the ground. It usually doesn’t snow, but the very few times it has it’s a perfect scenery. White just never ceases to appear in front of your eyes and the air is so cold and crisp but so fresh and the smell of the chimneys just make it all so wholesome, so like home. - You were lost in a world of your own, the memories forming before your eyes as if you were standing right there, on the edge of the village seeing it all, hearing the loud voices of your neighbours and waving to the older married couples that were working on their lands, the cold almost numbing your fingertips. Avis had forgotten about the food and was simply resting her hands on the ground with her head lulled to one side observing the way your eyes were zoned out, your fingers moving gently as if you could show her where you were pointing at.

-In springtime though everything is gorgeous. There’s green everywhere, the trees that had laid naked amongst all that cold now blooming under the warm sun, flowers overtaking the grass as the cereals that had been planted grow tall, sometimes taller than me. There are red and white poppies, and so many four-o’clocks simply sprouting from the sandy grounds. My mother loves them and grows them in the garden in a variety of colours. Then of course there are the pines and olive trees that no matter where you look there’s mosaics of, and we use them for shade when we’ve been working out on the fields or in the garden, to cool down and have a bite. There are so many colours and so many insects. Our house gets filled with butterflies and bees that settle on my mother’s roses to rest and that drink from the tiny little yellow blossoms that will later become tomatoes. And the air… it’s so rich with fruits and vegetables and those wonderful floral fragrances that one could stay out all day and never get tired of it.

-It’s sounds like paradise.

-It’s far from it, but its home. We don’t have waterfalls or big deep valleys carved into the stone, but we have fields of lavender and hawks that fly high above, and slow-moving rivers where ducks and swans sometimes bathe. We can see roe deer jumping from between the trees and rabbits that rush around without a care in the word, building their burrows in those areas where the ground has not been planted so it can rest. Coming here makes me realise that there’s always a piece of home if you look for it, no matter how many miles separate you. It’s in your blood, in everything that you are and that you do. One might not realise it but it’s always there and it’s up to us to reject it and hide it or to embrace it and adapt it as we grow older, to never forget what makes us who we are. I did not grow up in big cities or high up on mountains, but I have lived surrounded by nature and dipping my feet into the warm sea, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, filling my lungs with the salty breeze. I have walked among orange blossoms and lemon trees; I have been in nameless places in the middle of nowhere, but it was in those moments that I felt at peace.

-So why did you come here?

-Because one can’t stay stuck in the same place forever. I had a chance to make something for myself, to build a life that wasn’t the one my mother or my grandmother lived and as painful as it was, I took it. You left Northport to come here.

-True, but what I built was ruins. Nothing ever lasted before it was knocked down.

-I wouldn’t say that. People know you for you, not for Ace or Ellen or Dick. You have made a name for yourself even if the circumstances were not ideal or pleasant, but when they hear your name, they see you, not you with your husband or with a friend, just you. You might be standing over rubble, but you are not letting it keep you on the ground, you are picking up the pieces and making yourself a staircase to the top. You are running a studio and are going to release the best film in history, I think you have done pretty fantastic from that girl that you were back in Northport.

-How do you always see all the good, positive side of things?

-I usually don’t, but I have seen what sadness and hurt have done to you and I want to make it right. You deserve joy and love, not harsh words or bitter situations. You are doing what no one else has had the balls to do and I know that that girl who moved here years ago would be beaming with pride. – that girl that had been lost and miserable, Avis thought, would she truly be proud? She had had dreams that were shattered, a whole future shaped out before her that vanished into nothing when the talkies came, and then Ace and Claire happened and life just turned into a sea of habits and nasty looks, and that innocent girl became a not so innocent woman, but still filled with sadness and disappointment. And yet she felt as if you were right. That young thing from Northport would have never dreamt of running a studio or making a controversial film but foremost she would have never imagined she would find someone like you, the right person at the right time, just a bit later in life than what she had expected.

-I wish I could see the world though your eyes, I bet they are the most magnificent lenses anyone could wish for. Nothing is ever truly bad or horrid to you, there’s always hope and light at the end of the tunnel. With all those compliments you are giving me you are going to end up spoiling me if you are not careful. I might get used to this treatment. But how about you tell me what is it you want to build? What do you expect from life?

-I don’t know and that’s the beauty of it. My future is a blank canvas. I can be anything I desire, at least that’s what my mother says, from a secretary, as I am right now, to a nurse or a painter. I chose the paths I tread and admit my errors when I take wrong turns because that’s how one builds something worth fighting for. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are the only person that I have painted on that canvas, the only thing that I’m sure I want as a constant for the rest of my existence. I don’t know where I might be in five or ten years, hell, I don’t even know If I will still be in contract at the studio in six months, but I do know that wherever I am, I will be beside you. – Had your eyes ever been this deep? Had they ever shone with such beauty and determination? Avis wasn’t sure, but under the warm light of the lantern they were open doors to your heart, to every feeling and desire that grew and wrapped around your chest, and she was suddenly pulled into them, falling and drowning in their abyss. Her hands moved the food gently to the side, the containers covered halfway to avoid spills, allowing her body to crawl on all four in your direction, knees digging hard onto the ground underneath the blanket leaving the imprint of tiny pebbles over the skin until she stopped right in front of you, the soft skin of her palms coming to rest on your cheeks as she drew your body to hers.

-And I want you with me. Forever.

There was no room for words anymore, your heart skipping a beat before it began to race as the feather light touches of her lips on yours, hovering but never actually pressing them, drove your hands to hold onto her hips, digging hard over the fabric of her dress as your bodyweight fell over hers. Gravity granted you a helping hand this time and as she pulled you even closer her mouth landed over yours in a tender kiss. Somewhere in the distance a loud coo was heard, echoing in the air around you both but Avis never parted herself from you, absolutely addicted to the way your carmine mixed with the rich tones of the wine and the saltiness of the gravy, leaving an aftertaste on the tip of her tongue that was simply you, your sweet essence. Breaking the profound navy blanket that covered the skies, a magnificent horned owl flew over the crystal waters at the edge of the cliff, flapping its enormous wings hundreds of feet above the ground, casting deep black shadows over the grass before perching itself high on a tree, observing in the night, protecting. Neither of you was bothered by its presence, you were all animals at the end of the day, creatures that had evolved up to this point in the history of the Earth forgetting that before cities and societies existed love was shown among the trees, on the edge of riverbends under the scorching sun or the coolness of the night. One of your hands moved to Avis’s back, the other one resting on the grass as your bodyweight pushed her gently on top of the blanket, the top of her head pocking from the corner of it and in contact with the now deep green that surrounded her.  

The new position forced your lips to part, Avis’s chest raising and falling in hurried breaths, and as you moved your legs to straddle her, your foot accidentally kicked the lantern. The flame dying as your hands travelled to her sweet face, left you both bathed in only moonlight, the warm breeze caressing your bodies along with the sound of the flowing waters, crickets playing their quiet songs in the distance. Inching your fingers closer to the nape of her neck, feeling her soft ginger curls, they moved nearly of their own accord to massage her scalp, touching the cold metal pins she was wearing as you scratched your nails over her sensitive skin. It was delicious the way she hummed under you, her hands running up your back to your shoulders to keep you as close as possible to her, shivering as the heat of your body seeped through her stifling outfit. Your lips were torture on her neck, kissing the shape of it from her jawline to the hollow between her collarbones, licking and tasting her sweet skin as your fingers worked tenderly on removing as many hairpins as they could find, nibbling and scraping with your teeth. She needed you to mark her, to take her and make her yours. The way your light touches lingered on her flesh, delightful and thrilling as they drew goosebumps and gentle tingles on her limbs, made her brain slowly lose its train of thought and simply give into every sensation. Releasing the last pin, your fingers threaded deliciously in between her locks, pulling on her hair slightly harder than you had planned though she didn’t seem to mind. The motion had forced her head to lull back, a gasp escaping Avis’s ajar lips as the grip on your shoulder became stronger, her nails threatening to rip your dress.

You had never desired anything more in your life than to keep her in your arms for all eternity. That sweet spot under her ear was assaulted by your lips, the tip of your tongue tracing the outline of her earlobe, your hot breath tickling her skin and causing a mix between a giggle and a groan to slide from her mouth. Painstakingly slowly you moved along her jaw, lips delivering feather-like touches before you moved down to her neck again, sucking hard on her pulse point, delighted in the rumbling moan that she made as her throat vibrated beneath your lips. It was utterly gratifying to see how responsive she was to your touch, to the way your hands moved from her hair to her shoulders, fingering the neckline of her blouse, your fingertips barely brushing her skin and yet her pupils were so dilated that it was a miracle if you could actually get a glimpse of that gorgeous brown of hers. Dropping her hands to your hips her gaze was intense, watching your every move as you sat back over her thighs and began to trace the outline of her breasts and stomach through the fabric until they reached the hem, an obstacle that you had to remove, you thought. Avis felt you pushing the item gently off her abdomen, agreeing silently with you that it needed to come off. She desired to feel your skin on her skin, to have you as close as it was humanly possible, and so she pushed her upper body off the ground, resting its weight on her elbows as she guided your hands to push the garment off her midriff and arms until the blouse simply flew over the grass a foot or so away.  

God, she was wearing a nearly see-through corselette. There was a deep groan vibrating in your throat at the sight, the translucent satin cupping her breasts so beautifully, so enticingly that the heat that was coursing through your veins nearly turned into fire, Avis’s rosy nipples stiff and fighting against the material. The boning of the garment hugged the curve of her waist as if it was made perfectly suited to her body shape, and perhaps it was, the olive kissed skin coming through the material that built the bodice, flowers and fallen petals embroidered in deep blues and greens, encasing her form. It was beautiful, you could not help but stare at it for a moment wondering how one came across such things, but your attention returned quickly to Avis, the heat of her body seeping to the palms of your hands from where they rested under her bust. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, bosom rising and falling in rapid breaths in anticipation, unknowing of your next move as your eyes bore into her skin, hot and cold shivers running down her arms and back. Your thumbs rubbed the underside of each breast causing Avis’s breaths to mix with her loud pants as your hands journeyed higher, cupping her tits graciously, the plump flesh overflowing from your palms as you began to knead them, dropping your lips to her now exposed collarbone, teeth scraping the flesh and leaving angry red marks that your tongue quickly soothed.

How could you drive her to such insanity every single time? It made no sense how well you already knew what made her mind go blank, mad with desire and lust, every spot in her body that could draw out moans and gasps, how much pressure to use, how much strength and roughness she required or wanted. Bruises on her body were a marvellous sight for her to wake up to, your lips sucking on the skin of her chest and the top of her ample bosom until the purple began to form, your tongue running over them to calm her flesh, but she would never ask you to stop, finding that gentle pain simply delicious, addicting as your head moved to the valley between her breasts, letting your tongue run over the translucent fabric until it reached her left nipple. The feeling of it rolling in your mouth alongside the friction the material provided was making Avis’s core burn hotter and higher, her left hand holding onto your hair while the other grabbed onto the blanket, her knuckles almost white. The stiff peak twirled around your tongue with ease, your lips sucking hard as your teeth scrapped the sensitive bud, a quiet scream making its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. She was always so vocal, so needy and ready for you. As your head was busy with her left breast your hand had been kneading her right one, but its mission had changed after noticing the way Avis moved under your weight, travelling down her side to the waistband of her skirt in search for the zipper, that was quite conveniently resting on her right hip.

Much to your dismay, and hers, you had to let go of Avis’s nipple, a gentle pop resonating from your mouth as you pushed your body onto the blanket to get rid of the black pencil skirt that prevented her from properly spreading her legs. The garment’s zip slid like butter, both of your hands pulling it down her legs as she lifted her hips off the ground to help you, leaving her matching knickers on display for your eyes to feast on. You were sure you had just had a mini heart attack at the sight of the translucent fabric, her folds practically exposed before you. There was a hunger inside you, a monstrous appetite simply for her, for every single inch of her that you could not satiate, both your hands crawling upwards on each side of her body, over the blanket, your legs moving in between hers to spread her open. Part of Avis was resting over the grass while the other was on top of the checkered fabric, but if the feeling of the cool plants on her skin bothered her she did not mention it, perhaps too lost in what you were doing to her as you hovered over her, lips so close to hers that she could taste the wine on your breath. Her eyes locked with yours, feeling the way her chest pressed against yours with each hurried breath she took, the moonlight reflecting and making her deep brown orbs glow even if deep inside them there was a light of their own, a veil of love and faith that made your heart swell with pride. You and only you had managed to do what no one else had; earn her trust.

Your lips landed softly over hers, your tongue dancing over her now non-existent carmine as you asked her silently for permission to explore her mouth once again, as if you didn’t have it memorised already, but she granted it, nevertheless.  It was a battle for what little control you were willing to give to Avis this time, losing to her as she sucked on your lower lip, her hands holding you in place with her overheated palms on your cheeks. The air was filled with whimpers and whines, answers to your every little touch that only increased in pitch as you broke the kiss, one single drop of blood falling onto Avis’s own lips from where she had bit you down a bit harder, your mouth leaving a thin trail of the red warm liquid as you moved down her throat, vanishing as you pecked her chest. You had barely registered the way your blood was staining her skin, too focused on burying your tongue in the valley of her breasts, but the corselette was in the way and you could hardly reach that delicious skin that was calling out to you in whimpered whispers. Your hands were shaking slightly as you lifted your body from hers to work on the first few hooks of the garment, her ample tits inching closer to freedom as you unclasped each fastening, bouncing and jiggling under your working hands until they finally escape and stared at you in all their glory. You just couldn’t get enough of that creamy flesh and pink hard nipples. The mix between a gasp and moan that Avis produced was utterly sinful as you licked the skin and sucked around her right peak, small red marks painting her flesh before you devoured her, nibbling and pulling on her stiff nipple as your hand raked your nails over her left breast, to the point that only a score of screams could be heard from her.

-Please, Y/N.

To hear her pleading was such a thrilling sound, so unlike the Avis that everyone saw at the studio. And who were you to not listen when she was so sweet under your tongue, so responsive to the way your hands held onto her hips to keep her from thrashing around as you sucked and twirled her nipple until her pleas were finally needy enough, imploring even. You had made a deal after all. Under different circumstance you would have undressed her completely, drank her in until you were absolutely wasted in her essence, but this clearing was still a public area, anyone could come here; you doubted they would, but it could still happen, and you were not willing to let strangers see Avis in such a compromising position. Still, you released her breast after one final nibble that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head momentarily and began to kiss the fabric of her bodice all the way to her pubic bone, the material showing the wet spots you had left behind as you licked and pecked. If you took the lantern and gave it to Avis, she was sure she could light it with her bare hands from the way her skin and blood burnt high, scorching every cell of her being. You were inching closer and closer to where she needed you the most, your lips dancing from her left hip to her right, brushing your kisses so close to her clit that she thought she would go insane if you didn’t touch her, eat her alive. In a quick motion one of her hands held onto your hair, pulling roughly as if she could motion you to obey her, but you were quick to push it away and moved to hover your body over hers. With your hand you grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to face you.

-Do you want me to fuck you, Avis?

-Yes. – she was utterly breathless, lust filling every pore in her body as your domineering energy laced your words, sending shivers down her spine as she felt your other hand lazily moving between her ginger locks. Upon grabbing a handful, you pulled hard, a gasp muttered almost against your lips as the pain rippled through Avis’s frame, turning into such pleasure that she thought she might cum on the spot.

-Then behave. We’ve reversed roles, remember? I could have you writhing in pleasure for hours or I could refuse to touch you until you begged and cried for me to eat you out. – God, she loved you, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as your fingers traced the outline of her folds through her underwear, absolutely drenched and so impossibly hot to the touch. – Is this what you want?

-More.

-More? You mean something… like this? – your skilled fingers moved the lacy garment aside, freeing her completely to the warm air of the night. Dipping them properly in between her wet lips, you slid them up and down as slowly as you could, taking in the way her left hand shot out to grab your upper arm, the other one laid hidden under the bunched-up blanket, groans and moans echoing in your ears as her eyes fluttered close. Her neck was right under your mouth, a slow tender lick coming from the hollow between her collarbones to right under her chin, cleaning up the blood you had left there only a few minutes earlier, drawing out a quiet whimper. It was borderline torture, it had to be, the way you were moving at a snail’s pace, and she knew you knew, a smirk on your lips when she opened her eyes with a pleading look.

-Please, Y/N, don’t tease me.

-It’s not enough? Maybe I can do something about it. – your motions stopped completely, the frustration at the lack of friction making her whine. With your lips brushing her ear you whispered lustfully. - Apologise and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just one word, Avis.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/N! Please, please.

-Well done, darling.

She almost missed the pain on her scalp when you released her hair, but there wasn’t much room for her to think when she felt your lips on her inner thighs, licking the soft skin and kissing your way up to the joint between her hip and her wet folds, her breath hitching in her lungs in anticipation. The instant your tongue slid over them she felt as if she was about to pass out, her eyes rolling to the back on her head, ripping what grass she could grasp with her fist. It didn’t matter how many times you tasted her; she was the most delicious salty meal you could ever have, and there was a perfectly cooked steak maybe two feet from you both, but it could not fill you up the way Avis did. The laps you were doing on her drew out moans and yelps from deep within her, her legs trembling already, hips buckling to try and get as much friction as she could. To keep her still you placed a hand on her lower abdomen, reaching with the tip of your tongue the base of her clit. She was close, you could feel it in the way her thighs were beginning to shake ever so slightly, her moans higher and higher in pitch but they were still not quite there yet. There were wrinkles in the blanket that were digging on your knees, but you cared very little, adding your fingers to the upwards-downwards motion as to coat them in her juices and make sure you didn’t hurt her, though with how your face and upper thighs were practically drowning in her arousal you doubted it could happen.

-God, Y/N, more. Fuck.

Two fingers went deep inside her, pumping gently in and out to let her adjust, your tongue having moved higher until her swollen bundle was twirling lazily in your mouth, her fingers on your head out of habit and to keep you well in place. There was a thin layer of sweat covering Avis’s body that made her glow under the moonlight, her skin flustered and the most erotic shade of red your eyes had ever seen, her head lulling back with each movement from your fingers, pants and yelps echoing against the trees. You should keep her quiet, she could draw the attention of passersby, if there were any, but you couldn’t quite do it, it was just delectable to hear her lost in passion. Without a care in the world. Her walls clenched around you, a sign that you needed to increase the pace of your hand as your lips sucked on her clit, feeling how she was coming undone piece by piece at a faster speed that you had anticipated. She must have really worked herself up throughout the day to be so desperate for release. The hand that was holding her in place pressed a little harder, mixing with the third finger that you had just pushed in, adding to the pleasure that had been steadily building higher and higher, skyrocketing it. Her throat felt raw as she screamed over and over, losing her mind under your ministrations, the tension building as her toes curled and her heels dug onto the earth. With one hard nibble on her clit, along with your fingers curling, pressing almost against the one on her abdomen and she fell completely apart.

-Y/N! YES! AHHH! YES! YES!

There was fire in her veins, white hot flames spreading through every cell, every limb, electric shocks travelling from the top of her head to the tip of her toes and fingers, her head thrashing up and down as she held onto your head, buckling her hips to meet your pace as she rode out her orgasm. Her eyes were open wide for an instant, the sky above peppered with millions of tiny sparkles of light, but she was unsure whether they were real or simply brought on by the pleasure that was rocking her entire body. Either way, she didn’t have enough sense left to think, let alone differentiate between reality and dreams. Your punishing pace never faltered, pants and screams mixing until her juices exploded all over your face, her mouth hanging open in utter silence as her back arched of the ground. So the hand pressing on the abdomen really did work, , a little something you had read in a very inappropriate book, you thought as she squirted all over you, your tongue lapping up and down and around your fingers to make sure you were capturing every single drop until there was nothing left, drinking her in. Your mouth had left her overstimulated clit alone, kissing the soft skin of her thighs and knees as you gently helped her come down from her high, fingers slowing down after a moment or two until her legs stopped trapping your head, dropping onto the floor with gentle trembles, the hand on your head slipping onto the ground. She was completely spent, her head clouded in desire and afterglow passion that kept her laying on the floor panting for air. Pulling out, you used to blanket to wipe your fingers clean, crawling beside her until your head rested over your arm, rubbing Avis’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her racing heart and to let her know you were still there, that you hadn’t left her.

-Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?

-Hmmm – all that she could muster at the moment was to open her eyes lazily, turning her head to look at you as the waves of pleasure left her body, the hand that had been holding onto the blanket finally freeing it form its grip, rubbing your thigh over your dress. – It was fantastic, doll. And you say that Ernie didn’t put you on contract?

-I haven’t lost my touch it seems. And yes, there wasn’t much market for me, I’m afraid.

-Fools, all fools. Trust me, baby, if you ever do lose it, I’ll be the first to inform you.

-Good to know. I was wondering, honey, where did you get this underwear? It’s gorgeous.

-It’s actually tailored. I wanted something special, and I went to my favourite store to see what they could do, and we came up with this. I wanted the flowers in gold and white, but they didn’t stand out enough, so we settled on blue and green. Did you notice what flowers they are?

-I’m afraid not, I was too busy staring at your magnificent breasts. – a loud laugh burst from her throat, floating in the air around you as she tapped your thigh in amusement. It was a gift the way you made her adore herself the same way you worshipped her body, as if she was a work of art. After a moment it died down, leaving a small smile on her swollen lips.

-Thank you for the compliment, dear. As for the flowers, they are orange blossoms.

-Avis.

-I know, I didn’t have to do this, but I wanted to. I wanted to have something that clearly means the world to you as closer to me as possible. I couldn’t risk a necklace with your picture, so I settled for the next best thing that would still keep you near my heart.

Your hands took hold on her waist, pulling her body impossibly close to yours, needing her in your space, in your personal bubble. With your left hand you turned her face towards you until your lips met hers, a sweet tender kiss to show her just how much you appreciated the gesture. You would never met someone like her, there was no one like Avis in this entire universe and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found her. She still needed a minute or two to go back to normal, the lazy patterns your fingers were painting on her overheated skin soothing the sensations that were still clinging to her skin. Breaking the kiss your head hid in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and the soft hint of sweat that laid over her flesh, but Avis’s eyes were staring up at the sky. The deep universe that laid up above was sprinkled with billions of stars, glinting and shinning like diamond in the firmament, coloured clouds of dust swirling between them, around them, all over, in bright pinks, reds and purples, brushstrokes of baby blue blending among them. They formed a perfect line that crossed from North to South, and as the seconds went by perfect white swirls appeared all around as if an explosion of the most beautiful colour palette had just happened before her eyes, the universe in constant change right in front of her. She could spend all eternity laying here with your body pressed against hers, eyes taking in every little detail of the world around her, the deep emerald trees blending with the navy blue in perfect contrast. A gentle cooing reached her ears, eyes moving from left to right until they settled on the owl that had perched itself high up on a pine tree a while ago, its piercing yellow eyes watching her for an instant before they returned to the deep valley beneath you all. She had lost track of time she realised.

-Y/N?

-Hmm? – with a tender peck on the side of her neck you turned your head to look at her, observing how enthralled she was by the sky. It warmed your heart to see that even after so many years of Avis walking on this planet there were still secrets you could show her, images that her eyes had never laid upon and that you had the power to engrave in her mind.

-Have I told you that I love you?

-Once or twice, I think.

-Well, don’t you forget it, because I truly love you.

-As if I ever could when I love you just as much, Avis.

Her hands slid over yours, a small smile on her lips as she closed her eyes, letting your heat seep into her skin and bones. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, a deep shiver shaking Avis’s frame. It was beginning to get cold, and as you glanced down at your wristwatch you saw that it was nearly eleven, too late for you both after the day you had had. You didn’t want to unwrap yourself from Avis’s frame, but you didn’t want her to get sick, your hands pulling her into a sitting position to hook the corselette back in place, being extra careful not to touch her sensitive nipples. As she adjusted her bosom you crawled around picking up her skirt and blouse, hissing as you felt your knees land right over the spot where all of Avis’s hairpins had landed, cursing under your breath. You had half a mind to leave them there but you didn’t want Avis to ask about them when you were already ten miles away from here and have to drive back to not find them in the dark, so you went around feeling the blanket with your palms and putting them in your pocket until you were sure you had most of them. She was waiting patiently on her knees, the pearly beams bathing her skin as if she was dressed in silver. Your eyes stared at her tussled hair and bruised skin for an instant, contemplating your handy work with pride before handing her the clothes. As you dealt with the uneaten food and spilt cups of wine, from the corner of your eye, you watched Avis stepping into her skirt, the perfect curve of her ass so tempting, the black garment hugging her perfectly as she zipped it before pushing her head through the blouse, smoothing the fabric best she could once everything was in place, running a hand through her slightly knotted curls. Standing up you were about to put the basket back in the trunk when Avis stopped you.

-We still have the ride home; all this doesn’t have to go to waste. Just give it to me.

She had a new lightness to her, her feet almost skipping barefoot over the grass as she rounded the hood of the car to leave the basket on the passenger’s seat, heading your way to help you fold the blanket once you had put the champagne bottle in the trunk. Nature suited her, it gave her a new look on things, it made her feel alive, as if there was something much bigger than her that she had the opportunity to contemplate. Maybe one day the both of you could live in a secluded spot without a worry in the universe, only the trees or the waves witnesses to your love. Once Avis had put her shoes on your eyes there was nothing left on the ground, no sign of what had transpired in the last few hours, and as you were about to turn towards the car you felt for an instant that you could not quite go, that everything had been too perfect to lose it, to only keep it as a memory. Avis had noticed your slumped shoulders and was quick to wrap her arm around your waist and pull you close, simply watching it all. She wanted to say something but was unsure as to what, she wasn’t sure if you even needed to hear something, feeling as if she had to let you go through this on your own terms. So, she simply stood by you, her presence comforting as you once more said a mental goodbye to your home. It never got easier even if it wasn’t really your land or your country, but the sky above was always the same, no matter where you stood the same stars shone bright and glinted in the night and you knew that no matter many oceans separated you from your family they were looking up at the same firmament, a point of eternal union. With a quite sigh you promised yourself that you would come by soon, with Avis if you could.

Nodding against her shoulder Avis understood the movement and gently guided you towards the car, letting go of your hand after opening the door for you. With the both of you settled over the leather seats, the warmth of the cabin a welcome feeling on Avis’s slightly chilled skin you turned the engine on and carefully drove down the same path you had used to get there in the first place. “In the Mood” was playing on the radio, a cheery tune that quickly lifted your spirts, a fork with a piece of steak appearing in your line of vision. With a chuckled you took the meat, chewing even though it was cold, not that you minded, the rich flavours still there, just dulled a little. Hearing some ruffling beside you, you turned your attention away from the road for a moment to see Avis battling with a potato that kept sliding off her fork, the gravy dripping in thick drops. Reaching the edge of the woods, the sign for Runon Park shone bright against your car’s headlights, showing the way to those awful secondary roads that you needed to drive trough to get to the freeway, but the ride wasn’t as back. Avis kept feeding you every few minutes, a light banter and chatter settling between you over the music that the radio was playing, a sip from the bottle of wine smoothing everything down beautifully until there was only a little bit less of the red liquid left once you got to the freeway.

At that time of night there wasn’t much traffic, and you could slip your eyes of the road just a tad bit more to look at Avis as she gave you the final bite of the Caesar salad, moving on to the fruit. There were strawberries, bananas and what you suspected were slices of oranges, not entirely sure from your current angle. Avis showed you the fork with some of it, asking simply by raising her eyebrows, but you kindly declined, full already and not desiring a night of tossing and turning with indigestion, she could have it all if she wanted them. The radio began to play a different tune, something a bit slower, the atmosphere in the car adapting perfectly as you took exit 56, your companion resting her back against the seat while munching happily on what you were now sure were oranges. The Amberg residence was only a few streets away already, swerving the car around the corner, the night inching closer to an end that neither of you wanted, reality settling in between you once again, those stupid social norms that kept you from simply walking into her house and never leaving. The streetlamps shone bright as you came up to the gates, noticing strangely that they were slightly open, Mr. Breaton nowhere to be found, but you didn’t think much of it, he was an older man and it was already late, he could have simply gone home.

Parking on the side, in your unofficial spot, you turned the engine off. There was no beating around the bush, she was home, and she didn’t want to part ways with you, she simply wasn’t ready; there was a voice in the back of her mind that told her that she had to stay with you. Avis had turned her head in your direction, but the words she was about to say never made it out, your body already out of the car, rounding the hood to open the door for her. You didn’t want to leave her, of course, but you weren’t going to cry about it either, you preferred to cling to the memories of this evening, stretching your hand to help her out after pushing the door out of the way. She was pleasantly surprised by the gesture and smiled up at you, a charming “thank you” leaving her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard to convince as she had thought. Accompanying her to the front door the breeze that swayed around you both was turning colder by the minute, a very slow fog forming around the streetlamps. The hairs on the nape of your neck suddenly rose, your body filled with goosebumps, the strangest sensation spreading through your body, but you were quick to push it away. The porchlight was on, glowing softly as you walked the few steps that separated the garden from the front doors, coming to stand under its roof. It was rather childish the way you were both simply standing there, like a teenage couple that had just returned from watching a film or having a milkshake, wanting to stay with each other but knowing that the best thing was to part ways. And yet your hands never left hers.

-Here we are.

-Yes, here we are.

-You can stay if you want. There’s more than enough room in my bed for you. – her grip was a bit harder, hope blooming in her chest that perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have to go up to an empty bedroom and lay awake all alone.

-I know, but your daughter’s home and you need to sleep. I’ve kept you out long enough already.

-She doesn’t have to know.

-I don’t want to ruin the relationship you are building with her. I don’t want you to lie to her and break that bond that you’ve been working so hard on.

-I don’t want you to go. – her voice was so small; it sounded so weak and sad that you were tempted to stay and throw caution to the wind, but you knew that if you stayed Claire would go nuts at you both if she found out, and you were more than sure that you would find it very hard to not sleep with Avis again and she really needed to rest. Letting go of one of her hands you placed it on her cheek, rubbing the soft skin tenderly.

-I don’t want to either but think about it this way. If I go, you will have something look forward to the next time we met. True that it won’t be in a week, we will see each other again at the studio tomorrow, but I’m sure that you will look forward to it.

-Will you have lunch with me then?

-Of course. Now, go in and go to bed. I think I’ve left you satiated enough that sleep will find you easily.

-Cheeky. Thank you for tonight Y/N. I’m grateful that you showed me such a special place. I didn’t know there was anything like that here.

-It was my pleasure, believe me. Perhaps when the weather allows it, you and I can go visit a few more of those secret spots.

-I would love to. I’ll see you tomorrow?

-Tomorrow.

-I love you.

-I love you too.

These bittersweet kisses were not your favourites by far, after all partings never were even if they were only temporary, but at least you would go to bed with the flavour of her and the acidity of the oranges she had just had deep in your lips. Separating after a few seconds, she flashed you a bright smile before pulling her keys put of her purse and opening the doors. From underneath the threshold she blew you a kiss, your hand moving to catch it and place it close to your heart. The darkness of the hall swallowed her, and you stood there until the sound of the heavy oak closing in front of you boomed in your head. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you could stay tonight, just once, you thought, but your musings were interrupted by the sudden feeling that someone was watching you. For an instant you thought it might be Claire, but the curtains of her room were drawn and there were no shapes near the windows. Turning around you inspected the garden but there was no one there and yet the feeling only got worse, the fog settling faster than you liked as you made your way to your car as quickly as possible. Avis heard the rumbling of your motor from the bedroom, removing her clothes as she stepped into the bathroom, that feeling that you should have stayed stronger than before but there was nothing she could do about it now. Backing out from the house and back onto the road you didn’t see the figures dressed in black that came from the shadows, slipping into Avis’s house without an issue, hands signalling onto the empty street, or what might have been an empty street if a black Lincoln hadn’t unparked out of the blue, following you into the night. Come the next day you would realise that its headlights never turned on.

[cwritesforfun]

Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: Escape pt 2

Link to Part One ~> READ FIRST!!!

Y/N = Your First Name & L/N = Your Last Name

They will not follow the Roman style of speech - it will be written in modern language.

*I do not own the Gladiator 2 characters or plot* I do change some of the plot!!!

Masterlist

GIF from @freckledjoes - thx! @helsa3942 had some good ideas, too!

Y/N’s POV

You lead Emperor Geta to the bedroom and help him undress as you fill the bathtub with warm water. You have him wait in the bathroom as you request night clothes for him, food for both of you, and his things to be delivered to your room. You also ask for privacy. You have no idea if Geta will divulge any other information or what you two will be up to.

You receive a scroll with the latest news at night if something bad occurs. You open and read the words, "Emperor Calla has died. Macrinus seized power shortly after. Hanno, who is actually Lucius Verus Aurelius, has taken control and now leads Rome." You need to tell Geta, but when? He seems so fragile, and what if he wishes to return to Rome?

You walk back into the bathroom and see Geta in the bathtub. You walk over, bend down next to him, and say, “You look peaceful, Geta.” He looks at you, softly smiles, and says, “You should get in with me.” You reply, "Fine, since you asked nicely." You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you change and step into the tub with him. You lean your back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. You both talk softly before you wash each other. You notice small cuts and bruises across his skin, but you don't ask him about them yet.

You dress in new clothes, and Geta takes your hand as you walk to the bedroom. You see the food and lead him to the couch so you can eat a little. He sits next to you, and you both eat some food.

You lay down on your bed and pat the space next to you for Geta. He climbs in bed and collapses with his head on your chest. He picks it up to kiss you on your hand and says, "Let's never be parted again, love. I don't think I can bear it. You complete me." You reply, "You can stay as long as you wish. You're always welcome here." He softly asks, "And what if I never want to leave?"

You ask, "What really happened in Rome, Geta? You told me that you faked your death and how your brother thought he killed you. But, I also see the cuts and bruises on you that tell another story." He answers, "It started a few months ago when General Acacius came home after taking over Numidia for Calla & I. I could tell it was different this time because I could see we were losing the support of the General. However, I didn't voice these opinions to Calla because he had enough on his plate, or I thought he did... I needed a release, and I was tired of everything, so I invited a girl back to my bedroom. She was a nobody, and I accidentally confided in her. I don't know what I was thinking. The next morning, I woke up to Calla and Dundus standing there. They attacked me, and the guards did nothing. I should have left and come here then ... but I hoped there was still some good in my brother. I was wrong. The fights at the Coliseum were getting louder, and the Romans were rooting for this guy named Hanno." He takes a deep breath and continues, "I heard rumors that General Acacius and others were plotting against my brother and me. We locked him up for treason, and Calla started acting out more. I tried to keep the peace, but it just wasn't working. This man, Macrinus, started showing up and whispering in Calla's ear about me. That's when I set my escape plan in motion. One of the good things about being Emperor is the endless resources that you have at your disposal. At first, I wanted to make my head out of cake, and he's crazy enough that he'd think it was real. But I knew Macrinus would know something was up. So, I did something that I'm not proud of. I found a guy who looked like me who was up to compete in the Coliseum, and I told him to just sleep in my bed to pretend to be me. I told him all he had to do was sleep there, and I'd pay him handsomely. I gave him some of my clothes, and that night, I snuck out. I threw on a brown cloak that some soldiers wear, and I went near the water to the safe house you told me about. The man, Titus, kept me hidden for the rest of that night and the next day in his small home. We set sail the next night, and by then, we'd heard that everyone was claiming I was dead and that my head was brought to the Senate meeting. I feel horrible for the guy in my place, but he was going to die anyway in the arena... You know the rest. The journey was long and cold, but I'm here."

You're shocked. Horrified. Terrified. Stressed. Sad. Angry.

Geta sits up and asks, "Hey uh Y/N, is everything okay?" You answer, "Uh I have something upsetting to tell you." He asks, "What?" You grab the scroll and hand it to him to read. His eyes widen, and he looks in shock. You say, "I um... I understand if you have to return home." He asks, "What's left for me in Rome but my enemies and a land of disease? You are my home and my future. Rome means nothing to me, especially now that you're in my life." You place your hand in his and ask, "When did you get so romantic?" He moves closer to you and answers, "When I realized I let the love of my life return to her home, and we were not together. I had to read poetry and other works to better express my love for you." You reply, "Well I love you too, Geta. I always have." He leans in and you both kiss.

You stay up late talking until you're both yawning.

At some point, in the cold, dark night, you wake up to feel fidgeting next to you, and Geta seems to be fighting a nightmare. He is whispering out loud, "Stay back. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt her." You lightly shake Geta and say, "Geta, love, you're safe." He turns quickly and you say, "Geta, love, everything is okay." He pulls you close to him and says, "I thought someone was going to execute us together for loving each other. Everyone was mad at you for liking me and they were mad at me for Rome." You softly rub the back of his hand in circles and reply, "You're okay, and I'm okay. No one will be mad at us for loving each other. Even if they are, I'm the Queen, and they cannot influence who I choose to love. My guards are loyal to me and always working, so we're safe. I take several precautions for my safety, and the safety of my guests." He replies, "I bet your people love you as the Queen." You reply, "They do, and they will learn to love you with time. We can talk about that after you get to rest, though. You had a long journey and need to sleep more." He replies, "I love you." You say, "I love you too."

Taglist: @ziggeddie & @helsa3942

Should I write a part three after he adjusts to a new land and new position ???

[sunsetsover]

of course! like i said to you already i think it's so interesting that they differ so strongly on these points considering how aligned our opinions on things have been so far!! and it's fun tbh !! and likewise i would never want to change your mind either, but i also i wanted to address the stuff you brought up just to see how vastly our opinions differ

like it's just so weird bc i don't see what you see at all. i've always got the impression bison is kinda just like 'urgh ok let's do this then' when it comes to killing. like it's a chore. like he's being put out every time they have to do it. even in ep 1 i got the immediate impression that he would've rather been literally anywhere else than in that hotel room w that guy, and was out of there literally as soon as he could be, and i just personally wouldn't think that he'd be so eager to get it over and done with and leave if he was getting any kind of joy or satisfaction out of it, yknow? like wouldn't he be radiating satisfaction after a job well done? wouldn't he wanna bask in the afterglow a bit?

and i'm definitely not gonna sit here and pretend that it's bc it bothers him and he's morally opposed to the killing !! i don't think it's that at all, he definitely dgaf abt killing ppl and wants out for purely selfish reasons, we agree there, but i've never thought 'oh he likes this' beyond that one moment in that first scene, and again, i don't think that was a killing thing but a power thing. bc he was relieved when fadel turned up and they could get it over and done with, and again, he was out of there at the first opportunity. to me there was never any satisfaction there, it was just a job to be done.

even in that gif i don't see what you see, though i CAN see how you see what you see, if that makes sense? like i get where you're coming from, there's definitely a contrast, but i personally look at that and think well. fadel's bigger and likely stronger, and the guy he's knocking out is already unconscious and no longer fighting. bison is smaller and the guy he's dealing with is putting up a fight. that face, to me, is literally just him struggling physically. so i think what you're reading as enthusiasm to me is just the contrast between fadel and bison as people: fadel is stoic, and bison is dynamic. fadel shuts up and gets on with the task at hand, bison struggles and complains and huffs. but that, as far as i'm concerned, is just their personalities and nothing more.

although, weirdly enough, i definitely get what you said abt the sadism thing. it's something i've gone back and forth abt myself, and i still haven't made my mind up yet - whether the two are separate in bison's mind or not. either way, i think to me there's a difference between taking pleasure in killing and taking pleasure in hurting people. i think if the two were conflated, we would see that manifested by now. like he'd be fucking with people a lot more during these hits if there was a connection i think. instead all he does is do his job and move on. i think if anything bison gets off on the psychological aspect of it all as opposed to anything physical, but that would go back to control and power, which is what i've always said is bison's thing. i don't think that really has anything to do with the actual killing part of the equation personally.

i also don't think bison views lilly as evil or disbelieves her! but i also don't think he's.... enthusiastic in his part in all of this? he's not like keen. but i think that leeway is necessary when it comes to bison. it's not bc she likes him more or treats him special bc she acc considers him special, i think it's bc lilly is clever and she knows the harder she tries to rein bison is the harder he's going to fight, so she gives him the illusion of power, of referential treatment. she lets him question her to her face with no real repercussions. but that's not bc she likes bison, it's bc she knows how to manipulate him. she knows how to manipulate fadel too. and while i said he's under her thumb, i didn't really mean it in the sense of him being on her side, but rather fadel - at least to me - is far more caught in her trap than bison is. yes fadel lies, but i don't think he's being strategic so much as he's doing everything he can to not rock the boat. probably bc he's already rocked it once and paid the price. if it wasn't for bison - and by extension kant and style - fadel would have been perfectly fine (maybe not fine but ygm) leaving everything exactly the way it was. he literally says that, both to style during his confession and to bison last ep. and ok he's definitely lying abt how happy he was w the way things were, but the point still remains that he had no intentions of changing anything. which is why i wouldn't say he's strategic at all, bc that to me implies he's planning something, and fadel clearly wasn't. he didn't even wanna let bison ask for a break.

and while i don't disagree that bison probably does trust her more than fadel given everything, i don't think the fact that he speaks up has anything to do w that personally. i think that's literally just a personality thing. i don't think being sneaky is bison's thing - it's why he struggled so much pretending to be in love with kant after he found out the truth while fadel seemingly had no problem w it at all. bison's outspoken bc that's literally just who it is. i don't think him going behind her back - or anyone's backs - is really an option for him, esp not for long periods of time. (also im just not sure what you mean abt fadel going behind her back? fadel lies to her abt the dating thing, but as far as i can remember any sneaking fadel is doing bison is also doing, so am i blanking? have i missed smth?)

i think it all boils down to what you view as enjoyment, i view as just fundamental personality differences between bison and fadel and how they express themselves. which is fun! i love the difference! it's what pushes us to expand our own views of these characters ! i just thought i'd expand on this bc obv i was limited in the tags and you know i loveeeee to talk 💞

just woke up in a cold sweat because i think i’ve realized exactly what all the fucking religious symbolism is actually pointing out and like hoooooly shit. holy shit.

the fact that bison wears a jesus shirt in his fantasies of killing kant has been nagging me since the moment i realized it and i think i’ve realized why it is - and the reason for all of the things pointing towards and symbolizing bison as jesus.

it’s because that’s how bison views himself. not as actually jesus and the second coming, no, but he views himself as righteous, as a reckoning for all these people that they kill. he believes their mother when he says they only kill bad people, and that’s why he gets so much enjoyment out of it, why he involves himself far more in it than fadel, who always detaches himself. it’s why he delights in the idea of killing kant now, fantasizes about it, because he thinks that’s what’s right. kant betrayed him, and he’s a good person. he’s righteous. so that means kant deserves to die for it.

and that’s why kant is judas the betrayer AND john the beloved. because when bison knows it’s coming and turns a blind eye, he views himself the same way as jesus turning a blind eye to judas’s betrayal. and he’s the one the makes kant into john the beloved finding the tomb empty first because he hides from him (notably after kant had confessed to not wanting to lie to bison anymore)!

bison views himself as righteous. as jesus.

but he’s not. because jesus would never take joy in killing anyone. jesus would never have fun with it, in the same way bison does. and even if he did, jesus wouldn’t want to stop to date.

but you know who doesn’t take joy in any of it? who detaches himself from it? who seems, in the very least, suspicious of their mother?

you know who’s birthday is on christmas?

fadel. and if fadel is jesus… then bison can’t be. actually, i think that might make bison far closer to judas the betrayer. and that’s just awfully poetic, isn’t it? because didn’t judas think he was doing the right thing, too, when he sold jesus out? when he took money in exchange for telling the soldiers which one jesus was? just like bison thought he was doing the right thing when he told kant to get fadel off his back. just like he exchanged his brother for a lover and took them both down in the process.

[softgcf]

unpopular opinion but i kinda like how wilmon's relationship progressed to worse from s1 to s3 bcs i felt like it was kinda bound to happen(?) simply because of wilhelm's status if yall know what i mean.

like their communication and connection in s1 is great which shows that they can actually be in a healthy relationship. yeah, it was bit rocky at first but it's understandable and they STILL communicate. the shower scene after the sex tape was posted solidified that for me.

s2 and s3 were both all over the place. they had some conversations here and there and talked about their differences but it's obvious that the constant fights mirror their current state of mind, especially wilhelm. it just shows that yeah, they could be in a healthy relationship (s1) but the situation is fucked up (s2) so how about we figure out what do we really want (s3)

also, i didnt think that the break up was unnecessary bcs i felt like it was needed and was kind of expected at the end of s2 when wilhelm came out. one of the main points of the show was that wilhelm's issue isnt about liking a guy, it's about being part of the royalty. august actually got a point (ughh) when he said that he had issues before he (or even simon) got involved bcs wilhelm's issues lie within the royal family and finding himself. wilmon's relationship progressing to worse is bound to happen. it's not the lack of communication. i mean,, yeah there's that, but i feel like even if they did communicate the break up would still happen. simon had to step up for them to take a step back. his decision is not cruel. he did it for them and wilhelm UNDERSTOOD that.

[genderqueerdykes]

sadly i think it's a self fulfilling prophecy

a very loud minority (god i hope it's a minority) of the lesbian community is particularly gatekeepy and keeps pushing people away with their radfem nonsense whether they're aware of its terf origins or not then have the nerve get upset or offended when other queer people don't want to associate with them

it took me forever to feel comfortable identifying as a lesbian bc of that behavior being so prevalent and even now i hesitate to fully commit to it bc i'm disgusted by the idea that people will associate me with any of those beliefs

and wow it's so depressing to have thoughts like that about a community i once associated with endless love and support but man it's turned into such a discourse ridden "cool kids club" with very strict rules that i struggle feel welcomed in

anyway that's my two cents on the matter sorry for ranting in your askbox :)

that's exactly what it is!

it's a very loud minority of assholes. the lesbian community is a broad place full of a ton of different opinions and experiences.

the way rad fems have a stranglehold on the community here is because there are so few lesbian bloggers because of how hostile the environment is. trans lesbians of all genders constantly get harassed and called predators. lesbian transmascs and trans men get harassed. trans women get harassed. intersex lesbians get harassed. butches get harassed. bi lesbians get harassed. aro lesbians get harassed. ace lesbians get harassed. multigender lesbians get harassed. nonbinary lesbians get harassed. genderqueer lesbians get harassed. this is all because so many of the cis lesbian bloggers on here are rad fems & rad fem pilled.

its not a requirement to be an asshole in order to be a lesbian. its just this really loud minority of assholes that want to control everyone else who identifies as a lesbian and it has nothing to do with lesbian community at all whatsoever. thanks for stopping by, i really appreciate it!

[morallysuperiorlips]

12 Traits to Give Your FMC That Are GUARANTEED to Make Her More Interesting!

She has an unlikely set of skills: Stick her with a set of skills or talents that might not pair well with her occupation or personality. Maybe she's a hellish warrior who's a beast at knitting. Maybe she's a wallflower with a four-octave singing voice. The combinations are really endless, and this is a great and easy way to inject some extra charm into her.

She doesn't exactly conform to societal norm views: And I mean this more than just not adhering to traditional gender roles. Maybe, in the scope of your world, she has a set of views that many might consider unorthodox, or maybe she's just a little more "off the wall" with her opinions than the other characters around her.

Identity crisis, identity crisis, identity crisis: Have her balance different roles that seem like they have no business mixing together. Have her face a trial that makes her question everything. Have her wrestle with the skeletons in her closet (literally or figuratively, whatever you think fits her situation better). Not only will this help make her more relatable, but its a great way to give her some internal strife.

She doesn't know who to support: Is she stuck in between two warring families? Or, maybe the will of her superior vs. the will of her beloved? Whatever the struggle is, giving her a sense of uncertainty around who to support can go a long way in terms of her own conflict and keeping reader interest.

A strong sense of justice goes a long way: I LOVE a girl who has a strong moral compass. Give us the girl who's up in arms about serving justice in the way she believe is right. Bonus points if she will do absolutely anything and everything to defend her ideals. Extra bonus points if her sense of justice doesn't exactly seem "kosher" on paper...

...or maybe it's ever changing: But, on the flip side of that, a more flimsy sense of justice--one that almost appears to change with the tide or time of day--can also pique some interest. This is more than just plain grey morality; this is morality that can flip for any reason.

Traits that don't seem to match up: Like the skills suggestion, this encompasses general personality traits rather than skills. Give us the fiercely independent woman that absolutely craves human touch, or the high IQ genius who has no sense of emotional intelligence, or the fearless leader who wants nothing more than to fall to the background. You can really go nuts here, too!

She's obsessed with SOMETHING: Whether its an obsession or an addiction, this is something I feel like I don't see a lot of in female characters. It could be a substance, or a person, or even a concept. Bonus points if she compromises whatever she might be doing to touch on this obsession. Drive it home for us, writer.

Double life, maybe?: Whether its metaphorical or totally literal, this trait is a great way to dig down to her depths and tack on some intrigue with her character. Is she really hiding a secret identity? Or is she trying to reconcile two contrasting parts of herself?

She's confident in her femininity: Look, I love me a woman who defies gender norms and goes against the grain of femininity, but in that regard, I feel like there isn't enough writing about characters who embrace it. That doesn't always have to be falling into gender roles, but maybe she's really in tune with her nurturing side. Maybe she's the picture of grace. Maybe she just really likes dolling herself up and looking pretty. There's nothing wrong having any of these traits, so having her be confident in them could be a breath of fresh air!

She knows her tastes and she knows them well: Is she goth? Is she coquette? Is she all glam? However she rolls, she knows how she wants to look, and she sure as shit embraces it in her overall aesthetic.

She's a leader...and an imperfect one at that: Yes, this is a dig at the classic "Strong Female Lead." The fact of the matter is that even the best leaders are imperfect, so if your FMC finds herself at the front of a rebellion or an organization, really emphasizing her imperfections can give her some nuance that doesn't make her seem totally and completely untouchable.

As always, gooooooooooooo fucking write something today <3

(If you like my guides, prompts, writing, or art, consider supporting the blog today! All donations help me keep this thing up and running and all are appreciated <3)

[mikufigureoftheday]

This is more opinion based than anything, but what do you think makes a good Miku design? Bonus points if you have different opinions on what works for art vs figures :3

I like designs that give her some color here n there (*´ω`*)

Her default designs outfit is really gray, so whenever artists give her a little pop of color its fun to see~ It's always done so creative too I love it

Figures designs are more fun imo when they're really big and elaborate

Like they're so strewn out it makes you question how it's even standing at all, a true test of gravity

[yall-batman-fanfic]

[Maxie] Zeus | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician

Synopsis: Before Maxie Zeus became part of Batman's rogue's gallery, he was a mild history professor in Gotham University, working in the same department as Vivian. Though married, he admits to himself and some of his colleagues his infatuation towards Vivian. But nothing stays innocent in Gotham City.

Maximillian Zeus is a horrible person. How could he have these thoughts about his new and much younger colleague while he has a wife and child?! But how couldn't he either? The new Symbology and Iconography, and Art History professor was as beautiful as Aphrodite. Her red hair reminded him of Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, her pois of the three Graces---the Charities, who are the goddesses of beauty, grace, and charm — or she could be Helen. Homer never really gave an explanation on how Helen looked and the woman remained somewhat of a mystery in all stories. All that was known of her was her treachery towards her husband, and to have been the most beautiful woman of all, hence the saying: the face that launched a thousand ships.

“Everyone, let's all give Professor Vivian Pryor a warm welcome---Justin, you're both around the same age, I'm sure you can show her around?” Said Gregory.

Justin Kirk, a young, handsome, and outgoing man, which was everything that Maxie Zeus wasn't, happily went to greet Vivian first with a shake of a hand and said, “Leave it to me, we young folk gotta stick together.”

Vivian laughed, it was perfect in Maxie's opinion. The right kind of laugh for a woman. Soft, melodic, not the kind that reminds him of harpies and crones. “I guess so. I'm just glad to find someone here who might know my pop culture reference.”

“You watched Star Wars?”

Vivian winced, “Can't say I have.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

“Yes.”

Justin hummed for a moment in thought. “What are your thoughts on the Beatles?”

Vivian smirked. “I grew up in Liverpool.”

“Football team?”

“Manchester,” she gave him a quizzical look. 

Justine grinned. “We'll get along just fine. Welcome to GU.”

“Thanks, it's great to be back here, actually.”

To explain, Gregory informed everyone that Vivian was a student of Gotham University when studying for her Bachelors degree, then she took her Masters as a scholar in Italy, supported by her mentor there, Sebastian Rossi and then back at Gotham again in GU where she was mentored by the current Dean of their college. Many were in awe to know about her background, especially when Vivian turns out to be just in her twenties. 

Vivian was given the desk beside Kirk, which was a desk in front of him. So it was him, then Marge's desk, then Vivian's. It wasn't the most ideal but it gave Maxie the chance to see her every day, even if it was just her red hair.

Stop.

He should stop this.

He's married.

He has a daughter.

He has a happy family.

No sarcasm there. They really were happy!

But then again, what's so bad with an office crush, right? It's not really cheating if he just admires a young and beautiful woman from afar, right?

Right… He'll just keep telling himself that.

And he does keep telling himself that for the future that comes as he would often look across his and Marge’s table to see Vivian Pryor, or come to the office a little early so he could be one of the first few to greet her good morning. Always just a greeting and never a conversation. He has no reason to talk to her anyway, they have different interests aside from their work, and it looks like Justin Kirk also has interest in her and he has a better shot with her too.

Until Vivian came to his table to talk to him.

“Is that your daughter?” Her voice startled him. Turning, he saw Vivian standing there in her iconic tweed jacket, and earth tone clothes – today she opted to wear a blouse and skirt than her usual trousers — and boots. Her hair was pulled to a low bun being held by a pencil. A sharp pencil, he observed.

“Yes,” Maxie found his voice again. “Yes, she is.”

“What's her name?”

“Medea.”

A smile krept to her face. “A bold choice, but I can see in her eyes that she is as strong as her namesake.”

Maxie chuckled. “Yeah, she's — she's headstrong. I just hope she doesn't do whatever Medea did with Jason and their children.”

“Women's wrath,” Vivian shrugged. “You have a beautiful family, Professor Zeus. Your wife is so beautiful too.”

“Thank you, I'll make sure to tell her.”

Great, even she sees that this little crush is wrong.

“Anything I can do for you, Professor Pryor?” Maxie asked.

“Vivian's fine. And yes, I was going to ask for the keys to the storage. I wanted to borrow the Overhead projector to show something to my class, and they said that you are the master of keys to all our department's assets.”

“Right, right, um…” Zeus got up from his desk. “Well, I'm not really the master of keys, but I just—I fixed the system with it. Here.” He brought her to the wall where the key holders were, each key hung with a label on its loop, and at the side was a form that had names, signatures, details, and time. “Um, just write your name here, the time you took the key, the item you borrowed, and the time you returned the key and item. Do you need any help with getting the projector to your class?”

“No, I got it, but thanks,” Vivian smiled at him and went to sign on the form then took the key. “I'll make sure to remember where I took it from. Thanks again, Professor Zeus.”

“No problem, Professor Pryor.”

That was the first conversation he had with Vivian. A simple on but it meant a lot to him too, and it stuck with him until his downfall.

~*~

Vivian's career was skyrocketing with her research getting published. Many academic publishers bid on her work but only one got it with the best offer. A year working in academia as a professor in Gotham University, she is now getting what every scholar dreams of: getting their works published and recognized. They were all invited to her book launch, and were one of the first few to get a copy of her book too. Everything was going so well for her with the money she was getting from her books, the recognition, publicity, and offers for her studies.

Then it happened. 

During her book launch, a murder took place. Her agent was killed and hanged for display in the middle of her talk, and a knife was thrown at her direction. If it hadn’t been for billionaire-playboy, Bruce Wayne, Vivian would have been dead.

The case went on for weeks. Vivian was placed under police protection, which meant she can’t go to work. She was just stuck in whatever place they chucked her in. Then, a miracle happened.

Rather, the Bat happened.

The next day, they saw an article about Batman and Professor Vivian Pryor stopping Blackfire’s cult. The cult ran by Deacon Blackfire believed bathing in the blood of humans would make them immortal, and for some reason, they wanted Vivian to be the sacrifice for their ritual that night, and to get to her, they scared her to hide until they could find her in one place. But it was the other way around, it was Vivian and the Bat who found them in their catacombs.

The second take of her book launch took place in Wayne Tower, and based on rumors, Wayne paid for everything as well. As a way to thank her as Vivian would be giving half of the revenue she’s getting to the Wayne Foundation to help Gotham City.

“They look a little cozy,” Marge whispered to their little group as they watched Vivian and Bruce Wayne talk at the corner. Smiles never disappearing.

Justin scoffed. “Please, Wayne’s just trying to get into her pants. We all know his M.O.”

“I don’t know, that looks like a man who isn’t just after that,” Gregory laughed. “It would be interesting if that happens, right?”

“It’s just a one-night stand and Wayne is going to forget about Via,” said Justin.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Justin,” Katherine told him. “Maybe it’s just Wayne socializing.”

“It better be.”

Maxie agrees.

But that wasn’t the case. The next day, they learned that Vivian was asked out on a date by Bruce Wayne, but an emergency happened that cancelled it, then a couple of days later, Wayne personally went to GU to ask her out again. They went dancing that Friday, and the next school day, Vivian told Marge and Katherine what they did and what surprised him and Justin was that Wayne and her didn’t have sex, and that Wayne wanted to see her again.

Then it happened, Bruce Wayne became a reoccurring face in GU, and whenever he was there, it was always for Vivian. 

It was official. Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor were dating.

It seems, like Dionysus, while the god had Aphrodite as a wife, it was Ares who won the goddess’ heart and love.

~*~

It always starts with death. 

The madness  came when his wife died. It was a robbery gone wrong, said the GCPD. The thieves thought no one was at home, but then they saw his wife and they shot her, took what they could and ran. Medea Zeus was in her room that time, asleep, and when she woke up she saw her mother’s body on the ground in a pool of blood.

It was from that tragedy, that grief that made the mild man, Maximilian Zeus, to start these delusions of him being the very mythological god he teaches to his students. He was Zeus.

~*~

“I can’t believe it,” Vivian said as she looked at the Bat Computer's monitor that had the photo of Zeus with his gang. “How –”

“We both know how,” Batman muttered. “I’m sorry, Viv.”

Vivian sat on the chair beside Bruce’s and massaged her temples to try and grasp what she was seeing. A couple of days ago, Batman was dealing with a case from Commissioner Gordon about a new crime lord that’s rising in Gotham by the name of Zeus. At first Vivian shrugged it off, believing it was just some Greek mythology fanatic, it was best she doesn’t meddle with Batman’s cases and focus on her own work and with Dick, who was still undergoing training before he could wear the mask and cape.

But now…

“Do you remember the last time you saw him?” Bruce asked her.

“Yeah, it was at his wife’s funeral. We all went there to give our condolences and to see how Medea was. She saw her mother’s body that night and was the one who called 911.”

Batman’s jaw clenched in anger at the thought of another child witnessing another tragedy.

“How is she? The girl?”’

“She wasn’t talking then, Max said she hasn’t talked since calling 911,” Vivian sighed. “After that, Max went on a bereavement leave and extended it for a couple of more weeks, then we never heard from him since. Some say he left Gotham with his daughter, too distraught to go through the proper paperwork to resign and leave that he just did.”

“No communication since then?”

“No. I can’t ever imagine him becoming a crime lord — Max was this timid and mild man who adores his wife and daughter, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly! He even tends to the university garden.”

Bruce doesn’t really remember Maximillian Zeus that much, the man was the person who would blend in the background of a photograph, and he would notice him whenever Vivian points at his direction. He remembers her calling him the Master of Keys in their department because the man fixed their chaotic key holder and other assets too.

“Bruce, I don’t meddle in your affairs as Batman, but…” Vivian took his hand, holding it tight. “Not too harsh. He’s a good man who – I think – spiraled after the death of his wife. He needs help.”

“I promise, Vivian,” Bruce said to her. “I’ll make sure to deal with Zeus without inflicting harm.”

“But if push comes to shove… if you need to, then do so. I want you back here, okay, Batman?”

This time he smiled, pulling down his cowl, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

She was walking to the bus station when it happened. The sun was just about to set, there were many bystanders, and traffic seems to be on her side, which was why when they came, Vivian was caught off guard. It was a black sedan that parked right in front of her at the bus stop, and before she could even react after realizing the traffic light wasn’t red, the door opened and a taser shocked her to unconsciousness.

In the middle of the day, she was kidnapped with a simple taser to knock her out. 

Gotham City, everyone. 

Waking up, Vivian was met by silk sheets and a soft bed, but she knew that this wasn’t Wayne Manor. It didn’t have the smell of the place nor the comfort it brings her. She knew Bruce’s bed intimately to know that this wasn’t it too. So where was she?

It was a lavish looking room – she’ll admit it – with a bed decorated with a large clam as its grame, the walls were marble white with Greek pillars to support the structure. Where the fuck was she? And what happened to her clothes? She was no longer wearing her blouse and trousers, nor her jacket and shoes, all she was wearing was a chiton with her hair tangled with ornaments – gold. 

“Ah, Aphrodite!” The door opened.

“Max?” Vivian gasped.

“Goddess of beauty, how are you?” Max approached her but Vivian immediately jumped out of the bed to get away from him. “My love!”

Nothing about this felt right. This wasn’t the Max she knew, Maximillian Zeus wouldn’t talk like that, nor would he walk around wearing a peplos and himation. And he would wear underwear too!

“Max – Professor Zeus — ”

“Yes, it is I, Zeus! God of Thunder! King of Olympus!”

“No…” Vivian whispered. “No,” she said firmly. “You are Professor Maximillian Zeus — you teach history and classics in Gotham University! You had a wife –”

“Yes,” he said sadly. “Hera's passing has weakened Olympus.”

Vivian looked at in in disbelief. He can't possibly –

“That is why for the sake of Olympus and my daughter, the Princess Medea, I am in need of a new wife.”

The way he looked at her brought a chill down Vivian's spine. 

“No,” Vivian said. 

“But you will. And you must, for Olympus and Princess Medea –”

“Where is Medea?!” Vivian exclaimed, worried for the girl. “Where is she, Max?”

He was silent for a time, looking at her, then he called for one of his men. The door opened and appeared a man holding a little girl's hand. Medea looked frightened but still did not speak. She trembled in fear with the man and with her Father who took her from him.

“Medea!” Vivian ran to her. The child pulled her hand from her father's grasp and wrapped her arms around Vivian. “It's okay, it's going to be okay.”

Medea hid her face at Vivian's clothes and held her tight.

“I'll get us out of here,” Vivian whispered.

“My love, do you really think I do not know of you?” Zeus spoke, with a smirk. “You may be Aphrodite but I know that you are a child of the Hecate. The goddess of magic and sorcery. My studies have helped me in building this fortress, it is protect by a seal that prevents magic users to escape from it. You are bound here with me, my love.”

Vivian's hold on Medea tightened and she hid the girl behind her. “Professor, please, stop this. You're scaring your daughter. Is this how you want Medea to remember you?”

“She is a Princess of Olympus, she must learn the ways if she wishes to take the throne some day. If not, then our children will.”

Vivian glared at him. “Like hell that would happen.”

“We shall see, my love,” Zeus walked up to her and grabbed Vivian by her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “One way or another, you will give me sons to create an army.”

Vivian spat at him, and with it Zeus backhanded her, sending her to the ground with Medea holding her. Protecting her from her father. 

No more, was what the child wanted to say. Please, stop this.

Zeus only looked at them for a moment and then left.

Getting up, Vivian flexed her jaw to check if it was broken, then she tried to use her magic. Zeus wasn't bluffing, she can't use magic. If it was his delusion that had him stumble upon this, then he was damn lucky. But for her and Medea, all they can do was wait – either for the right time to strike and escape or for Batman to save them.

~*~

Angry was an understatement. Batman, Bruce Wayne, was livid to know what happened to Vivian. For days, he's been looking for her after learning from Alfred and Dick that Vivian never got to the Manor nor has she called either of them. He searched Gotham for her, questioning every enemy he has faced, showing them that he wasn't fucking around. No one touches Vivian Pryor. Else they get the Bat.

Then one key witness, a bystander, said to Batman that they saw Vivian get tased and tossed in a car with a customized plate: PEGASUS. He didn't need to go to the registry nor the computer to figure out who has Vivian. He went straight to Zeus’ New Olympus.

Climbing the tower, battling every one of Zeus’ henchmen, Batman made it to the very top of the penthouse where Zeus resides and is holding Vivian and Medea hostage. Upon entering the floor, he was met by a Greek-styled suite that resembles Olympus from those picture books, then sitting on his elevated throne was Maximillian Zeus himself, looking tall and strong. Then at his side, sitting at a much smaller throne was Vivian, who was chained to her throne with Medea clinging to her like a babe clings to her mother.

“Batman!” Vivian got up with Medea but she couldn't take a step with the chain around her ankle.

“Viv,” Batman whispered, relieved to see her alright, but that relief disappeared when he saw the bruise on her cheek and the cut on her lip. Turning to Zeus, Batman growled, “You touched her.”

“She is my wife. My property, I do as I please,” said Zeus.

That struck a nerve.

“You better choose your words carefully, Zeus,” Batman sneered. “She is not your wife. She is your hostage. I'll ask you once, and handle this carefully out of respect for Professor Pryor's wishes. Let them go and surrender.”

Zeus laughed, his laughter booming in the suite, then he exclaimed: “You dare tell me, a king – a god – what to do? You are nothing! I am your King!”

“You are no king, nor will you ever be a king of mine. I'll ask one last time: let them go and surrender, Zeus.”

Zeus got up from his throne, bringing with him his thunderbolt – a technology he stole from one of the warehouses he raided – and unclasped the clip of his peplos, leaving him shirtless as he faced the Dark Knight.

“You have always envied my position, Hades,” Zeus sneered at Batman.

Inaccurate and very much untrue for both the mythology and for Bruce Wayne. If she wasn't a hostage with a child, Vivian would have laughed at the irony of what he said, but that wasn’t the case. 

“Do you really think I will simply let you take my wife and child, my kingdom, Hades?”

Batman sighed. “I'm sorry, Viv. But he hurt you.” 

Reaching for his cape, he discarded the thing and threw it across the room, leaving him with his uniform, cowl, and utility belt. 

“I’m not leaving without Vivian,” Bruce declared.

“Then this is a battle for her hand. Beat me and you shall have – oof!” 

Before Zeus could finish, Batman punched him across the face, and kneed him at the stomach. 

Vivian hid Medea from the sight of her father getting beaten up. Getting up from the throne, Vivian circled the thing as far as she could and hid behind it with Medea with her. Placing the child down, Vivian told her to stay put while they looked for a way to get out of there. If only she could erase the seal that Zeus that traps her magic, she’s seen the marks while captive and have tried to erase the thing but Zeus have intervened and used force to keep her from doing so. He hasn’t done anything drastic, as forcing himself to her, but he has hit her a couple of times, hence the bruise on her cheek, the black eye, and the cut on her lip.

“Professor,” Medea spoke the for the first time. 

“Yes, Medea?” Vivian sighed in relief when the child spoke. 

The girl held up her palms, showing the red ink on them. Was that blood?

“Medea! Where did you get that?!” Vivian held the girl’s hands. How did she not notice them?

“Daddy said you have magic. I promise not to tell… please bring back my Daddy,” Medea sobbed.

That wasn’t blood.

Those were the marks Zeus used to seal her magic.

Vivian held the girl’s hands and lets her magic flow through her magic once again. 

“I will. Stay here, okay?”

Medea nodded.

Removing the cloak around her, Vivian wrapped it around the girl and stood from the ground and walked towards the sight of Batman battling Zeus. While Bruce was exceptional, Zeus had his thunderbolt. 

“Kaerb eht niahc.”

The sound of her voice casting a spell distracted Bruce for a moment. Turning to the direction of the throne, he felt the change in the winds, the shift of power. Vivian’s magic was back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her glowing gold eyes, and the magic exhuming from her body.

“Aphrodite, wife! What have you done?!” Zeus exclaimed. “You let the three-faced goddess take you!”

Vivian held her palm towards Zeus. A force lifted the man from the ground and forced him to drop the bolt to the ground. With her magic, Vivian flew from the ground and hovered over Zeus, her glare never faltering and the glow in her eyes intensifying. 

“My love, have mercy! It is I, your husband!” Zeus exclaimed.

“Enough!” Vivian spoke, her voice laced with layers of voices that Bruce haven’t heard. “If you truly love me, Zeus, then surrender. Free me and Medea, and surrender.”

“A king never surrenders!”

Vivian frowned. “Then I am sorry, Professor Zeus,” her voice returned to the same voice that Bruce knew all too well. Placing a finger on Zeus’ forehead, she cast a spell: “Peels, sueZ.”

The man’s eyes fluttered, trying to fight the spell, but he eventually fell asleep and slumped against the force that held him in the air. With Zeus knocked out, Vivian got them down and settled the man down at the ground, kicking the bolt away from him.

“Vivian,” Bruce went to her side, holding her arms to see how she was. Aside from the bruises on her face and her arms where Zeus must have grabbed her, she was alright. Seeing them, Bruce pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I am so sorry for taking this long.”

“It’s okay… I’m sorry for not escaping sooner. He had a circle that kept me from using my magic, my love.” Vivian whispered. “Medea!” She realized.

“The girl,” Bruce agreed.

Pulling away, Vivian and Bruce ran to the throne where she left the girl. Still hiding behind it, they saw the girl hiding under the cloak that Vivian used to wrap around her. Scooping her into her arms, Vivian carried Medea and pulled back the hood. 

“It’s over now, Medea,” Vivian told her.

“Is Daddy…” Medea trailed off, her eyes on her knocked out father.

“He’s just sleeping.”

“Okay… I want to go home now, Professor Pryor,” Medea muttered.

“We’ll get you out of here and get you somewhere safe,” Batman told her and offered to take the girl from Vivian.

“He’s a friend,” Vivian told her when Medea showed hesitation.

Seeing that Vivian trusted Batman, Medea held out her arms to Batman, letting him carry her. 

“Everything alright now, Medea. I promise,” Batman swore.

~*~

Harvey Bullock came to the crime scene to apprehend Zeus after getting a call from Vivian Pryor about it. But when they arrived, Vivian Pryor and the girl, Medea Zeus, were missing, and all that was Zeus and his henchmen tied up with a note stuck on Zeus saying he needs to go to Arkham not a jail.

Unknowing to Bullock, Batman and Vivian were at the roof of a building across where Zeus made his New Olympus, with them was Medea who held onto Batman, not wanting to fall off a great height. 

“Will they take Daddy?” Medea asked.

“They’ll take him somewhere that would help him,” said Vivian. “Let’s go, we can leave her with Commissioner Gordon.”

Batman agreed. “You both will be safe with Gordon. He’ll inform Wayne about this as well.” As they prepared to use Batman’s grappling and Vivian to fly using her magic, he adjusted his hold on Medea so she would be secure in his arms. 

“Do you want to fly?” Batman asked the girl when she hid her face at the crook of his neck.

Medea looked up to him and nodded. 

“Then keep your eyes open, this is just like flying,” Batman smiled at her.

Firing his grappling, Batman jumped down and swung down, building to building with Vivian flying beside him. In his arms the girl, Medea, smiled for the first time since seeing her mother’s body in their home.

~*~

“Viv, how are you?” Justin was the first to greet her as she entered the faculty office with a still bruised cheek. “Shit, I can’t believe Maxie would do this.”

“Me neither,” Vivian sighed. “But it’s okay now. Medea is now will be staying with her grandparents, and Zeus will be sent to Arkham to be rehabilitated.”

Days after the incident, Vivian was given paid-offs to rest after the whole ordeal. Her boss told her to stay at home for at least two weeks, that kidnapping was nothing to take lightly, and while Bruce agrees, Vivian was adamant in going back to work. Hence, her presence at the faculty office.

“You really should stay at home, Via,” said Katherine.

“I told her the same thing, maybe you could convince her,” Bruce appeared at the door of their faculty office.

“Mr. Wayne!” One of the professors gasped.

Vivian sighed. “Bruce, please.”

“You left this in the car,” he held up her packed lunch. “Alfred’s famous soup and sandwiches.”

Smiling, she got on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, my love. And thank you, Alfred. But I am ready to go back to work. I promise!”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll pick you up after work.” He then turned to her colleagues and said, “Please make sure she doesn’t escape to take the bus home.”

Katherine and Marge giggled and said: “We’ll do our best.”

The sound of her huffing had Bruce turn to Vivian and saw her pouting. Taking her hand, he pulled her out of the faculty office, earning teasing cheers from the others, and brought her to a dark hallway where he had her caged against the wall.

“Bruce,” she began.

“I just want you safe,” he said.

“I know,” Vivian cupped his face and got on her toes to kiss him. “Thank you, Batman.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Bruce kissed her deeply and didn’t want to let go if it were not for the sound of students about to pass by them. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Vivian asked.

“We can only hope from here on,” Bruce said to him. “I sent a gift to Medea earlier, she might get it by tomorrow. Hopefully, her experience with her father doesn’t create a hatred towards Greek mythology.”

Vivian smiled and said, “I’m sure that won’t be the case… now, go to work! Wayne Enterprise won’t run by itself!”

“I will, but just one last,” he kissed her again. “Viv.”

“Yes?”

“Are you willing to wait for me?”

“What?” she laughed.

“It might take a while but will you wait for the day I have a ring and get down on one knee?”

Vivian laughed. “Bruce, come on! We just got back a couple of months ago, don’t you think it’s too early to ask?”

“I guess,” Bruce kissed her again. While she laughed it off now, Bruce knew then and there that this was the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with and he wasn’t going to let her go. Not even if it meant battling gods.

[sh-111-t]

it helps me and it might help someone so here is a little snack mix i usually eat to avoid brain fog while studying. i might get something wrong however it really does help me so i think it might be worthy to share since the exam season is coming for many people!

the biggest part of my snack mix are fruits (source of complex carbs, since carbs are essential for brain to function)

there are probably better sources of complex carbs but fruits are one of the easiest snacks to grab and go. i usually pick blueberries (antioxidants), or apples (antioxidants). i also just like those two :] you can pick some other fruit (or starchy vegetable maybe?)

nuts! i know many of us can be afraid of them since they are so high in cals, however they are source of healthy fats (important for brain health!). i usually pick cashews, but im gonna try walnuts! they really do make a difference in my opinion.

i also usually pick dates, dried cranberries or dark chocolate! from google search in case of all of those they say they "might" improve brain health so thats it. i have quite a sweet tooth so thats a reason for those. i know those might not be for everyone but im just sharing what has been working for me (im in humanities not science lol)