#sorry for the thirst trap i just felt cute today :3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dayasbun · 5 years ago

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Fame - Angus Cloud (6)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 {reading now}

“Okay! So all we’re doing today is the makeout scene, sound good?”

You and Angus nodded, both sitting on the poster bed with cameras surrounding you.

“What did I do?” He muttered to you for the tenth time that afternoon, and just like the other nine times, you didn't respond. Just hours before, Z had properly informed you of Angus’s secret girlfriend, someone he clearly had a thing with-but made sure to tell you nothing of.

THAT MORNING...

“Z!” You rushed over to her, your eyes wide as Storm came up beside you two.

“You have to film in an hour don’t you?” Zendaya questioned, quickly pulling out her phone. You nodded giving Storm a quick smile.

“Yeah, and you already know what I have to film-”

“Mmmmm right, you gotta make out with Angus, trust me we know. Everybodys talking about it, they won’t let us on set to watch y’all though, we tried.”

“I can’t stand you two,” You laughed shaking your head “Anyway, you know why I’m here. What you find out about Angus? That you texted me about last night? And make it quick, I gotta go to hair and makeup in a bit.”

“I’m debating if we should tell you before or after you film your scenes…”

“You basically already told her Ms. Blabbermouth, so just tell her the full thing.” Storm said to Z with a shrug.

“I am not a blabbermouth! I think its just right that she knows!”

“Then tell me Daya, come on!”

“Okay, okay. So my social media is set up so that when someone is following me I can see who follows them that I also follow without even clicking on- this doesn’t make sense, anyway! This girl followed me and the only person following her that I also follow was Angus. I didn’t think much of it, shes public so I wanted to check out her pictures cuz I was bored. She doesn’t have that many followers, but this girl is hot. Like I’m not even gay and she’s fine as hell, that’s why I was going through her pictures because she was just so gorg-”

“She’s pretty, I get it, can we move on?”

“Oh- Sorry. So yeah, I’m scrolling and I get to this picture of her on some man’s lap right? You cant see his face or anything, and there’s no tag. This was posted last month by the way. So there’s no tag or caption, but guess who commented?!”

“Wild guess, Angus?”

“Exactly! And guess what he said?”

“I don’t have time or patience for guessing right now-”

“He commented- and I quote, ‘Baby I miss you, sit on my lap again’ with those nasty thirst trap emojis! So I’m like wait a minute! And I’m going through her pictures now for a whole other reason. I find out they been dating since 2017 and she has a million pictures with him on her page all booed up but get a load of this- she literally never tags him. She always tags this other guy named Steve.”

You let out a huff and crossed your arms. “That’s fucked up. Real fucked up.”

“Yeah, I kn-”

“But I am not going to let it affect me today. I have to make out with him either way for our scene, so being petty isn’t necessary. I’m going to go on that damn set, and I won’t say a single word to him unless it’s on the fucking script!”

NOW...

“And...action!”

Angus let out a long sigh before jumping into the scene for the seventh time. You could tell it was bothering him why you were suddenly giving him the cold shoulder due to it affecting his performance as being Fez. You wanted to feel bad, but who just decides it’s cute to lead practical double lives? You tried to move the topic out of your mind so you wouldn't feel completely livid again and focused on the scene in front of you.

“Don’t do that girl, you got me fucked up.”

“Don’t do what? This?” You bit your lip and moved closer to him.

“You just tryna get some today ain't you?”

“I've been trying to get some since when I came back last week, Fez. But I’m glad you finally decided to notice.”

“Lemme gives you some then, come ‘ere.”

You got onto his lap wrapping your legs around his waist, just like you had the night before. You looked into his eyes and you felt your heart melt, and at this point, you didn't know if you were in character or if this was just you.

But then you remembered you were most likely the side chick.

Your facial expression hardened a bit, not enough for the cameras to pick it up, but you knew Angus noticed. Before he could ask you what was wrong or what he did for the eleventh time and ruin the scene, you pressed your lips to his and kissed him deep.

“Fuck baby...” he groaned into your mouth, his hands working their way up and under your shirt to cup your breasts. Once his large hands reached them, he gave them a nice squeeze causing your breath to hitch as you bounced a little.

Yeah, sure you were mad at him right now...but you loved that shit.

You grinned a bit wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing him down onto the bed. “You want me Fez?” You moaned out in a breathy tone, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Fuck yeah I want you girl, take this shit off for me.”

As you slowly unclipped your bra, you specifically remembered that at this point in the script he was to say ‘Jess’, not girl. But of course, the one-time {yesterday} you wanted him to say girl he had to say Jes-

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sudden “Cut!” from the crew. Letting out a breath you got off of Angus’s lap and clipped your bra. “Good stuff guys, we need Daya and Hunter next so if you see ‘em remind them its time for their scenes in about thirty minutes.”

You nodded putting your shirt back on, and trying to rush off of the set before Angus could catch up to you- but you failed.

“Aye,” he said walking by you “What's good?”

You shrugged. “I don’t really know what's good.”

“Why you acting like this, all different and shit. It’s on god starting to weird me out, what's the dealio wit’ you?”

“Just fuck off.”

Angus raised a brow and stopped walking. Thinking you finally had gotten him to leave you alone, you slowly walked to your trailer but ran into Jacob on the way.

“Hey!” You said softly. You hadn't exchanged many words with him over the time you'd been filming, but every time you had, he had been sweet and polite. The run down with Jacob was that he was talented and cute...that's about all you knew.

The conversation between you and Jacob was brief but pure. He asked you some questions about filming and you told him about how much you loved his performance in the show. Soon enough he reached his trailer and you two parted ways, leaving you alone as you walked to yours.

You stayed more focused on your phone that your surroundings, leading to you not realizing that Angus wasn't far behind you. As soon as you stopped walking and leaned against the side of your trailer, you felt someone in front of you. Looking up from your phone your eyes widened, why the fuck was he still here?

“Angus what the fu-”

“So you think you can talk to me like that?”

Suddenly feeling shy, your voice and confidence lowered. “I was playing...”

“And you think you can just flirt with anybody and everybody?”

“What are you-”

“Imma tells you something, so imma need you to listen to me real clear.”

You swallowed and nodded, looking up at him.

“Ion think you know this yet so imma let you know.” He placed his thumb on your cheek. “You mine, got it? Not Jacobs, not anybody fucking elses, mine.”

You almost couldn't believe the words you were hearin-

“Uh, Y/N, you good?” Jacob asked you. Quickly snapping out of it you nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine thanks.” What a hell of an imagination you had. You took a quick glance behind you and saw no one at all. Letting out a sigh you said goodbye to Jacob and walked into your trailer. As soon as you closed the door you heard a ding that was specially set for your male costar.

Angus☁️: come to my trailer. now.

and why should i do that?

Angus☁️: now Y/N im not fuckin around

im busy

Angus☁️: busy my fucking ass im fr

alr but don't expect me to stay.

Angus☁️ read at 1:34 PM

And even though you didn't quite know what was up yet, just from the texts you could tell that Angus was not happy.

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins @patientplum @babygurlbarnes

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eerythingisshaka · 7 years ago

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The Coffee Prince Pt. 3

(T’Challa x Reader)

*Part 1* *Part 2*

Word Count: 4.8k

Plot: Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

*Previously*

Hi, I hope this is the right number. (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend. I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time. We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds. Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place. (laughs then clears his throat) Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message. This is T’Challa by the way. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times. Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again. You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people. No one has claimed nobody yet. But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.

You had today on your mind every minute up until now. When you woke up for work, you felt fully rested and eager to get through the day. Not even the worst attitudes from customers could dampen your high from getting that call from T’Challa. What a name, a melody of possibility in your head whenever you thought about him. You purposely avoided the coffee shop just to make sure to keep anticipation at its peak. You felt so silly thinking about it. Tavia told you not to get too excited because it could still not count as a date yet. The music festival was a 3 day bender, with hundreds of people attending. She thought something so large and public wasn’t something a dude would choose if he is trying to choose you, in her nicest opinion. You took her advice with a grain of salt, but one thing that couldn’t be denied is that he wanted to spend some time with you and that’s that on that!

The day of your date, you put yourself through nothing but self-love and self-care to get yourself in the right mindset. Your playlist of bops hype up your spirit as your Aztec healing clay mask dry whilst you diy’d a mani-pedi for yourself. Rinsing your face of the dried clay, you feel reborn, giving yourself kissy faces and posing to the beat of your jams. For your hair, you had to go back and forth with yourself on what to do. Your hair was currently in two-strand twists, so should you let them down, showing off all you defined curl beauty? But it’s hot, so maybe a top bun or a faux hawk type of style could fit the festival vibe. Or maybe save some time and step up the glam with one of your colorful headwraps. Would he be offended, like you’re trying to be too into his culture or…

You decide to go for a half up, half down do. Taking down your twists you pony your hair right on top of your head, spreading your curls out, leaving the other half to flow freely down the nape of your neck. You put in some hoops, and some shorts to show off your most prized possessions. You thank God and your mother for your gams. A cool patterned tank and your gold gladiator sandals, you feel about ready, taking a glance in the mirror. Your curves looked more ready than you felt as you checked the denim hugging your hips, the glint of your epidermis taking up all the attention. You were a little self-conscious about having your thighs rubbing together or the shorts riding up, but those thighs were getting some attention today, so to hell with that! Your tank was loose with large holes for the arms so your bra showed in places, which you loved cuz it was a cute one and them titties were sitting proper. Your phone notifies you of your Lyft outside. You get your crossbody bag and head out.

Closing your bedroom door Tavia sitting in the living room in a big old t-shirt and bonnet, eating some hot chips, watching the TV.

“Hey girl. You look dope, wow.” Tavia said deadpan, without even looking your way.

You click your tongue, “Why you playin? You didn't even check me out. How I look?” you say with a twirl.

Tavia looks back at you. “Mhm, definitely catching somethin. You shave?”

“Yeah, moisturized, the works.” You say looking your legs over.

Tavia waves her chip at you, “Nah, nah. Did you SHAVE though?” She asks, wide eyed, sucking the hot red dust off of it comically.

“Girl! Ain’t nobody tryna smash tonight! What’re you taking me as?”

“Well damn, why not? Listen, you walk through here with some carnival game prize bigger than the door, imma assume he got some head.” Tavia says.

“Shut your ass up! I’m gone. I’ll text you the danger phrase if this goes awry.”

“That’s mama’s baby! Good Night!” Tavia says throwing up the peace sign as you walk out.

The ride to the festival felt like a cross country journey. You took the time to recheck your make-up, fan yourself from sweating since the driver seemed to not believe in A/C. You went through different scenarios of greetings. Hey! Wassup? Hi, how are you doing? Funny seeing you here! You fan yourself again trying to calm down, feeling idiotic with every minute. Maybe it wasn’t the lack of air that was the issue.

Your phone beeps, probably Tavia hyping you or humbling you one last time.

I’m here, outside the entrance when you get here :9

The symbol at the end of the text message was not something you were familiar with, so hopefully it's not a blatant sign for something. But you hopped in your seat a little. ecstatic at the message. T’Challa was early, AKA on time and waiting for you! God, what better way to have a man: ready and waiting. And the only acceptable occasion for them to come early.

The car pulls up in the parking lot a few yards from the hoopla and you thank them as you get out. Rows of cars lined the lot and the makeshift grass-converted parking area. The cacophony of noise you here from the distance welcomed you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the welcoming banner until you saw him. T’Challa paced slowly to and fro, looking up towards the sky, hands behind his back. He dressed very comfortably, in a dark green buttoned down short sleeve shirt with some embroidery design on the front, accentuating his ample shoulder span. T’Challa’s forearms were reporting for that duty, with biceps on deck. Your pace feels slows as your feet become weights pounding the pavement. Your nerves get to you as your mouth dries out. Mixed with the summer heat, and you were officially the epitome of thirsty. You try to have a proper strut down before he notices you: confident, bouncy, baddie.

T’Challa glances and finally sees you and a smile appears instantaneously on his face as he freezes in place to observe you coming up. You try to hold your smile down as much as possible. You don’t want to give him the upperhand of seeming too eager but damn, he looked fresh. Within talking distance, you exchange greetings.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” T’Challa asks pleasantly.

You nod humbly, “I am great, thanks. How about you?”

“Much better now. You look amazing this evening.” T’Challa says with a quick glance over you. Not even in a sleazy way, just like he truly appreciated your style, the apples of his cheeks practically popping off his face.

You start fanning yourself, giggling almost uncontrollably. “Aww, I know I look a lot different outside my work clothes. I can’t compare to these arms you decided to let out the house today. Where you been hiding them?” You say, turning up the flirt a little so he knows it's real.

T’Challa chuckles at you boldess, “Ahh, stop it. My sister suggested this shirt. I wondered if she was setting me up for something.”

“Mhm, for a thirst trap definitely. But it’s great.” You’re so starstruck. “Uh, your text had an odd symbol at the end of it. What does it mean?” You pull out your phone and show it.

“Ahh, I meant a smiley face. I;m not the best texter unfortunately, so typos will happen.” He puts his hands in his pockets anxiously. “Are you ready to go in?”

“Yup! Let’s hit it!” You say excitedly. T’Challa gives the ‘after you’ motion with a wave of his hand. Once y’all make it inside, you feel overwhelmed with the crowds of people walking through, dancing, talking. You get caught up in the scene, your mind fades out not sure what to tackle next.

“Do you want to walk around?” He asks over you.

You turn to see him waiting on your answer. Your introversion was coming back strong.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, let’s walk.”

Walking down the way you pass through see a couple acts performing. Nothing really bumping in the section you guys are at. You check T’Challa in your peripheral and he is just looking around, not saying anything. There is so much you could say but you don’t know the precedence to say it in. The worst thing about dating for you was the talking and getting to know each other.

“Do you know any of the acts that were performing today?” T’Challa asks you.

Shit, you thought. You didn’t even research anything about this festival. That would’ve been a great ice breaker.

“Uh...no. I didn’t. This could’ve been a country music hoedown and I’d be none the wiser.” you say pitifully.

T’Challa nods, “So, not a fan of the twang vocals of cowboys and saloon girls? What music do you listen to?”

You shake your head smiling, “Not ‘cowboys and saloon girls’ though! But those kinds of questions are too hard to ask! I listen to so many kinds, I can't devote myself to a genre. Even country sometimes, even though I lowkey trashed it just now. It has to be done right, white people always take it and bastardize it.”

“Blues, jazz, rock n roll…” T’Challa lists.

You say with a clap, “Exactly! We get stuck with the short end of the stick, erased from history.”

“I feel similarly. I am spoiled by my country’s sound. I have other artists that I enjoy but I stick to a certain group of them.”

“Any that I heard of?” you ask.

He thinks a moment. “That's the thing too, I'm not good with names! I enjoy the art and almost entirely ignore the person creating it.” You look at him incredulously. He puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s bad, I know. But I enjoy a lot of old school acts, R&B, soul. And of course local bands from Wakanda.”

“You will have to let me listen to some of your music then.” You say, suddenly shy again. Did that come off too strong? Too eager, as per usual.

T’Challa makes a subtle grunt noise, stopping next to you, “Oh, so you definitely want to see me after this, eh?” l

You smile as your stomach does NOLA bounce routine. Trying not to answer right away, you fake a thinking pose, “Slip of the tongue, but we will see how the night goes.” you say teasingly.

You guys walk past concessions and T’Challa offers to buy.

“What do you desire?” he asks.

Looking over the menu, you really hadn't worked up an appetite yet but you sure as hell was hot in the unforgiving humidity.

“Just a slushie, please.”

“Good choice. What flavor?”

“Red.”

T’Challa looks back at you confused, “And by chance, what flavor is red?”

You roll your eyes, “Are you pushing your respectability politics off on me? Red is red, I said what I said.”

T’Challa laughs at your antics, placing the order with the cashier. He gets one too, in blue. You both walk down the way, enjoying your treats.

“Mm, this is so good. Thanks for buying.” you say as you eat the sugary ice. The coolness radiates through your body against the evening heat.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re too polite; I’ll have to fine you for your courtesies.”

“Nooo, I’m poor, please!” you look to him with puppy dog eyes for forgiveness

T’Challa sips from his straw as he mulls it over. “I’ll let you off with good behavior, for now.”

“Too kind, my good man.” you say before sticking your red-dyed out at him in jest.

T’Challa laughs at your action, “Your maturity is unmatched.”

A bell dings nearby and a crowd erupts. One of those strong man meters is set up and is obviously a crowd favorite.

“Hey, you think you could do work on that over there?”

T’Challa checks it out shaking his head slightly unsure, “Ahh, I haven’t been to the gym in a while, I don’t know…”

You look over at the worker passing a teddy to the patron, “Well, I want to at least get a consolation prize. I’ll give it a go. Hold this.” You hand your empty cup to T’Challa, strolling over.

“Madam, would you like to take a crack at it?” The candy striped worker said, handing the mallet your way.

“Damn right!” you say confidently.

“You can do it!” you look behind you see T’Challa, beaming, holding up both cups. You square up and take a swing. No bell rung, and it didn’t make it past wimp, but the thrill was nice as you came out of your shell a little more.

“Nice try, young lady, nice try. But no one goes away empty handed. For you!” the candy striped man gives you a mini plushie duck fitting the palm of your hand.

“Thank you! It’s so cute,” You say, walking away smiling at the cute animal in hand.

“Maybe it’d ring if she sat on it.” a nearby voice said.

A white guy red as a beet sneers as you catch his eye, sipping his beer. You feel your good vibes disintegrate as he smiles pridefully at his joke, you. One thing that you haven’t been able to shake yet is how hurtful comments to your face about your weight can be. Remnants from your childhood made for a shaky foundation in your establishment of your worth. You knew these crowds would be an issue eventually.

“You sir, you’d like a shot?” You didn’t even notice until he had the hammer in his hand, but T’Challa was at the game getting ready to swing down. The ball shot up the column, rang the bell like a thunderclap, and knocked the dome clean off of it.

T’Challa looked over to the man in the crowd pointing the hammer his direction, “If you can only find confidence in talking down to others, I would suggest you lay your head right down here next time, so I can drum some sense into your brain, eh?” The white man was wiping his shirt, looking back at T’Challa all shooketh. He must’ve jumped out of his skin when T’Challa brought the hammer down.

The candy striped guy picked up the dome of the bell, “Uh, sir, did you want your prize or…”

T’Challa lays the hammer against the game, “Yes, my good man.”

The worker handed T’Challa a large, plush black cat. T’Challa took it, striding over to you. Your heart swelled with delight as he handed it to you. Not been to the gym in a while, my ass!, you thought. Those arms, back, shoulders, with some thigh assist didn’t lie though. You hugged your prize close.

T’Challa stood in front of you with concern, “Are you ok? I’m sorry if I acted out of turn.”

You looked at him shaking your head, “Don't apologize, or I’ll have to fine you!” you say with a wag of you finger.

“T’Challa smiled with relief, “He had no right to speak to you like that.”

You sigh, “I’ve heard it before, and I’ve heard even worse.” You start to walk on as T’Challa followed. “It was hard for me to fit in growing up at first because of my size, so I was bullied early on. But I started beating people to the punchline and the bullying soon stopped.”

“Do you ever believe the things people say?” T’Challa asked.

“No, not all the time anyway. It’s gotten better since college. I look at a lot of body positive people online and learn some tricks to cope.”

“(Y/N), I won’t tell you how to feel but anyone that talks about you with ill intent is either insane or not completely right up here.” He says pointing to his head.

You gained comfort from the respite T’Challa gave you. “I know, and sometimes it's not even them. I can be my worst critic. But I know not to fall for the smooth talking Negros that like to prey on the vulnerable too.” you say pointedly.

T’Challa looks to you mouth agape, “I don’t consider myself a smooth person, so I won’t take that as a warning to me.”

“Oh please! You waltzing over to threaten the guy in my honor? Smoove. Buying me a water a while back to soothe my scalded tongue? Smoove. The fact that you even got me to talk to you? Smoover than smoove.”

T’Challa laughs, “All right, enough! It’s not on purpose however. Certain traits become exemplified when I’m around certain kinds of people.” He looks at you smiling before looking on. You hug your cat tighter. Which cat you ask? WELL......

T’Challa goes on, “and I'm no stranger to bullying myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I have a very smart alek, very calculative jester for a little sister who has no end to calling out my uncool ways.”

You laugh, “Little siblings are the worst. I know, cuz I am one, and we have that right!”

“Bast, when will the tyranny end!” T’Challa calls to the skies.

A stage nearby lights up with low glow blues and purples, yellows and greens. The a crowd erupts as the act is about to start up and you hear something familiar.

“Oh my God.” You freeze in your place.

“What is it?” T’Challa asks worrisome.

“Do you know them?? Oh my God!” You say without anything else, running into the crowd as the act steps up to their mics.

T’Challa trails you until you reach a stopping point.

“Oh my God, The Internet! Syd! Oh my GOD!!” You scream waving around your plushie.

Syd tha Kyd steps to the mic, crooning the crowd with her soft falsetto. You sing along right with her, enamored by the surprise. You look to T’Challa in all the excitement and you catch him smirking at you, nodding along to the music. You take his hand and raise it up to sway side to side on the track, the electricity you felt being a mix from your idols and the foine dime to the side of you. You booty bump him playfully to get him loose, he bumps you back. All worries are cast away as the songs envelope you both, each one drawing you nearer to him, hands clenched the entire time.

Their set wasn’t long, but you guys stayed for the entirety of it as the night sky cast over the park, stars decorating the sky. The temperatures became bearable as the sun finally fell. Torches lit the way for you all to see and walk around. Once The Internet finished their set and the crowd dispersed, you and T’Challa start scoping for some grub.

“Do they have any wings around here or cheese fries, or somethin?” you ask out loud.

T’Challa looks over the vendors signs and points, “Ahh, your wish is granted! I’ll go ahead and order.”

“Wait! I can’t eat wings AND cheesy fries, I was just playing!” You weren’t but you wanted to be a lady.

“It’s ok, I’ll get both and we can split. I’ll be back!” Breaking from you, he walks on.

You hold your plushie close to you as you wait. Looking around the park you think this would be a perfect picture moment for the gram. Pulling out your phone you see you have a text from Tavia.

Ummm, what happened to texting me to make sure things were good though, like….

You text her back. I was supposed to let you know if things are BAD. No news is good news right?

Going to the camera, you shoot some scenery shots. Looking over your options, Tavia texts back. Well my bad! Ok, keep doin you boo!

T’Challa comes back with wings in one hand, cheesy fries in the other. God, you didn’t know what looked better: the food or him. And you were hungry regardless.

“I got some waters too.” He said, handing you the fries so he could get the waters from under his arm.

“Ooh, good thinking. Let’s find a spot to sit.” you say as you take down a fry. Walking into the park you find an unoccupied bench and sit. The faded music in the background was very chill, setting the mood. T’Challa takes a wing, eating the meat off. You absentmindedly watch his mouth chew as he ate. The muscles of his jaw masticating, his concentration to get every bit off the bone.

T’Challa wipes his hands and looks to you, “You were amazing back at the stage.”

You snap out of your trance, thinking over what he said, “Listen, I didn't do anything. Syd and them, were going off and they haven’t made a bad track yet. I’m only a fan.”

“It was pretty cool to see you so free spirited. And I heard you a little. You have some singing in your background, eh?”

You make a so-so motion with your hand, “I mean, a little bit. I’ve never done it for an audience but my shower is a long time fan of mine.”

He laughs, “It’s really captivating to watch. I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were here, but the music brought out another side I really enjoyed seeing.”

“Right! I appreciate you noticing that. I wasn't sure either cuz I’m such a homebody and then that guy. I still can’t wrap my head around you standing up for me that way either. I never had that happen for me.”

“Oh, Bast! I haven’t had someone so endearing to do that for. He doesn't know anything about you, otherwise he would’ve dusted the ground for you to walk.”

You laugh with your hands on your hips mockingly, “Well you haven’t even done that!”

“I can't defend the Queen and clean the quarters!”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “By the way, I heard you say that before. What is ‘Bast’?”

“Where I'm from that is a religious figure that some follow. A panther God.”

You cock your head to the side in curiosity, “Ohh do you have rituals, symbolism, and things around it?”

“Of course! Chants, dances, the works. Every religion just about does. Do you follow a Christian God?”

You nod. “Mhm, Team Jesus right here.”

T’Challa smiles, “Well, we have similar teaching just the practices stray off.”

“I always wondered about what religion I would have, had it not been for, you know.”

“Luckily my family does not know of that life, but I understand. God is all around us, comes in many forms in my opinion. I try to give honor wherever I am that things still grow, the earth still spins, things like that.”

You look up at the sky overwhelmed with the sensations of a successful evening, “God, it’s so beautiful out.”

He looks up. “The city sky does not compare to a Wakandan one, for sure.”

You look at him, his neck stretched back wanting to touch it, “Tell me about it. Your home.”

He leans back, resting his arm across the back of the bench. “Words couldn't do it justice. But just think about the most beautiful scenery you can imagine from nature shows, or pictures in a magazine. Then amplify it by one hundred.”

“You still have family there?”

T’Challa smiles to himself, “Yes. Mother, sister, and a bunch of people I consider family. It’s a close knit community”

“Wow. Do you miss it?” you ask.

“I do, all the time. But I haven’t thought about it once tonight.” Looking up to you, his eyes trained on your face. He says tossing a wing to the side, looking away in the distance again; clenching his jaws, resting his hands on his thighs. He looks nervous.

While studying his face you notice a unique detail to his hairline. “You have the most adorable widow’s peak. Just look at that.” You reach over, stopping midway as he looks at you expectantly, “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head. You lightly feel the curls that bunch to form this hereditary marvel.

“I wish I had one. It adds so much character to one's appearance. Like you need any but it’s like a little treasure.” you say smirking as his curls tickled your fingertips.

While touching it, you look at T’Challa who is focused on you, not saying a word. Mouth slightly agape, his eyes look to your mouth then back at your eyes. If there was ever a chance to kiss him, this was probably it.

“Uhh, did you hear me, or…” you say trailing off and chickening out, moving away a little to ease the building arousal between you.

“I want to compliment you now.” He says reaching for your hand, holding it. “Your eyes have an innocence that makes me feel unworthy to hold your glance. But I can’t help but to not look at you. You remind me of every beautiful trademark that makes a woman special. I could go on, but I don’t want to offend you. But I hope I can get to know more of you, so I can verbalize it properly.”

You look down at his long, knuckley hand holding yours. “T’Challa I don’t want you to talk about me anymore.”

T’Challa looks concerned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You stomach trembles inside as you try to find the words, “No, I know what you mean. But this is a lot for me to take in. I’ll say it’s been a while since I’ve been paid attention to like this, so it’s kind of overwhelming but…” you move his hand and inch closer. “I’m not a big conversationalist so I just want to...”

Your lips find each other, softly embraced in a kiss made for fairytales. But you felt so much more than what the kiss portrayed: excitement, joy, aroused at the fact that his face meshed with yours so perfect. His hand found the small of your back as your hand caressed his face gently to ensure the reality of it all. Breaking away slowly you both stare into each other, high off on the clouds of infatuation.

“Man, I dig you.” You say trying to break some of the romantic tension.

He smiles, “And I dig you, umhle.”

You smirk, “What that mean?”

“Something you should be very familiar with: ‘beautiful’”

“I could get used to that definitely.” you say, embracing him once more.

As much as you could stay on that bench forever, it was getting late and the mosquitoes were being disrespectful. T’Challa offered to take you home when the time came, but you needed a break or you might invite him up. You car arrives and you hug him goodbye. His hands wound around your back firmly, you securing yourself around his shoulders you take a mental note of his frame, so comfortable and meant for you.

“I had a great time, T’Challa,” you whisper in his ear.

“The pleasure was mine, (Y/N). Let me know when you’ve arrived home safely?”

You nod, giving him a peck on the cheek for good measure. You get in the car and he closes the door behind you, seeing you off. You hug your panther plushie tight to your face as you recap the evening. You were practically buoyant as you rode home, petting your prize tenderly, wishing it was T’Challa in your lap.

Making your way to your apartment, you open the door to see Tavia knocked out on the couch, and even bigger mess of snacks surrounding her and the table as she snores. You slam the door to wake her up.

She startles awake, looking at you squinty, “Well damn, What time is it?”

“Maybe, midnight by now?”

“Mm, decent hour, must not have given up the draws. Well go on and tell me about it” She wipes her eyes, getting a better look at you, noticing your plushie. “Uh-uh! You got a prize!! What did I tell you!”

“Bitch, I didn’t suck his dick. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” you say feigning tiredness.

“How fucking dare you! I aint get no sleep cuz of you, you aint gettin none cuz of me!”

“Girl, you were just knocked out! Go to bed.”

“But-”

Good night Tavia!”

You close your room door, tossing T’Challa Jr. on your bed. Kicking your shoes off, taking your hair down, you pull out your phone.

Home safe! You send to him. You put your phone down and unclothe to get comfortable. Suddenly a ding sounds and you dive for your device.

Glory to Bast. Sleep well, umhle.

You read it a couple of times before setting your phone back down. Laying down, you clutch your prized possession T’Challa won you to your chest as the day’s event float in your head: euphorically exhausted.

Part 4

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

Commencement Day

Song of Stevens

My Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@hairhattedghooligan@universalbri @therevolution-willbelive@you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines @airis-paris14 @afraiddreamingandloving @kreolemami

No mans land Tags

afraiddreamingandloving groovybbyy and nyeebey, yall here too! I just can’t tag you for some reason <3</p>

#tchalla #t'challa #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #t'challa x reader #tchalla x reader #t'challa x you #black panther au #marvrl au #t'challa fanfic #fanfic

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motherpsyduck · 8 years ago

Text

T is for TEQUILA 🍹

Here’s my contribution to @simons-thirst-squad‘s ABC’s of Simon challenge.

I started writing this straight away and it’s taken me ages to write/redo cos I wasn’t happy with it. Hopefully you guys like it! This is my first ever Simon fic so please be nice :3

Notes: This chapter is 1 of 3. There’s only 3 in total. I feel it ended where it needed to otherwise I’d be dragging it out and it would be shit. It started off as a short oneshot but I just couldn’t stop adding to it so here you go! About 9.5k words in total!!

This is a reader pov story starring the beautiful Simon and a little bit of Negan. Mostly Simon(hope that’s ok!)

Chapter 1 is 3,683 words.

Tags: @simons-thirst-squad, @readinginmymeadow (gif courtesy of google image search and its creator) ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Chapter 1

You’ve been doing this for a while; stealing alcohol from Negan. You felt such a thrill the first time; you couldn’t only do it once. You have to have some way of coping with being trapped here at the Sanctuary.

You’ve been here from when the whole world went crazy. You were a different person then. You were unsure and terrified about the new world much like everyone else, so you made the decision of joining the Saviors. You thought it was the smart choice but it was also one that would haunt you for the rest of your existence.

You’ve been a member of the Saviors for little over three years now. You’re surviving. You know what the Saviors do. You’ve witnessed it a couple times when you’ve been on the runs to take half of everything some poor unlucky community had gathered in fear of Negan. You didn’t feel sorry for them anymore. You didn’t feel anything. You just wanted to get on with it and leave. The previous version of yourself, your pre-apocalyptic self wouldn’t recognise you today. You’ve learnt to handle yourself against most people and walkers. You had to. You reckon that’s why Negan kept you around for this long. He knew you didn’t take any crap from anyone at the Sanctuary, including him.

You rebel often by talking back to Negan, Simon, Dwight and anyone else who thinks they’re superior to you, but ultimately give into Negan after a while because you don’t want to push him too far and end up with a scorching metal iron to your face. Negan has come close to raising a hand to you before now because of the way you mouth off. When he stops himself his excuse is he enjoys your “Couldn’t give a rat’s crusty-fucking-ass attitude.” He also has admitted to admiring your guts and wit, amongst other things. You don’t take yourself too seriously but are willing to stand up for yourself and others to an extent. You think that’s why Negan’s taken quite the liking to you.

In Negan’s twisted way of keeping you second guessing him, he hasn’t killed you yet but instead a couple of months ago he placed you in a scavenging team. You scavenge with your party as often as you can. It gives you the chance to leave the Sanctuary and taste the smallest bit of freedom you crave.

To keep the boss man sweet, whilst scavenging you occasionally find things you think Negan will like; more often than not he approves of the items you return to him. It’s the same every time after scavenging; you’re taken to Negan, then he searches your bag thoroughly as he knows what you’re like by now. You’ve snuck a gun and bullets back to your room after a run before. The boss personally rifles through your rucksack every time you return. He doesn’t trust the words that leave your lips when you say you’ve given him everything you found whilst you were gone.

On one of the days once he’s satisfied that nothing is lurking in your bag, he gives you a grin and hugs you for longer than what’s considered comfortable. You stiffen your body into the embrace and pat him awkwardly on the back then Negan pulls away to hold your shoulders. You can see it in the way he looks at you he knows you can’t stand him, but it just eggs him on more. He then dips his head so his face is close and stares into your eyes.

“Thank you Y/N! Now I know you know, but I need to hear it again… Who are you?” Negan’s arrogance made you grind your teeth. His gravelly voice made a faint echo in his large living room. He’s holding onto you close to the door that you can’t wait to leave out of. A couple of his wives were also present; two were standing by the small bar drinking straight vodka from glasses and two sat on the black leather couches off to your right. In your peripheral vision you saw Simon, Negan’s right hand man, standing tall beside you. You felt Negan squeeze harshly at the tops of your arms as a sign of impatience for an answer. You clenched your jaw and glared back into his face.

“I’m Negan.” You replied in a flat tone. Negan’s black-leather-gloved hands run down your forearms to your hands. Feeling him stroke your arms gave you a chill down your spine. Negan held your hands gently and smiled at the floor. Your heart was racing at the uncertainty but then your focus was on the searing pain as Negan crushed your fingers together in his grip. Your yelps of pain were drowned out from his soft shushing noises. As you quietened down and dug your front teeth in your bottom lip, tears formed in your eyes. You listened to every syllable as you bowed your head to the man in front of you.

“Less of the stink eye next time baby.” Negan ordered with a dark tone. You nodded frantically. When a tear spilled out of your eye and ran down your cheek, his large hands threw yours away from him. You rub your tear away then massage your throbbing fingers trying to soothe the pain. Negan stood up straight then poked his dimpled cheek with his long, gloved finger and pulled a menacing smile up with his mouth. You sighed not wanting to and stepped forward to peck his bristled cheek. Once again, Negan made you do what he wanted. You’re aware this is an intimidation tactic. You just hate that you have to go along with it. A small, deep chuckle escaped from Negan’s throat then he shooed you away. Simon who didn’t leave your side, led you out of Negan’s room and escorted you to your room.

You hated being handled by anyone and being pushed around by Negan’s men. You couldn’t do much about the shoving when you were followed back from speaking with Negan. You aren’t as strong as some of Negan’s men, like Simon for example. That guy is huge. When you were introduced your first thought was: it would probably only take one punch and he’d probably kill me. You expected him to be like Negan’s other henchmen; pushing your shoulder every now and then from behind to keep you in line, but you soon noticed that Simon had never once been forceful with you. His presence alone was intimidating so you’d regularly walk back in silence. You preferred when Simon would walk with you. You wish you could think of something interesting to initiate a conversation that would last more than a few seconds and not have you fumbling your words when you’d hear him speak.

You aren’t very physically strong but you are people smart. You’ve noticed you’ve picked up the knack of manipulating people; sometimes for the right reasons and sometimes for the wrong, it all depends on who’s asking. Before the world went to shit you were interested in Psychology and studied the subject for a couple years. It ended up teaching you a lot about human behaviour.

You got to know Simon a little better whilst on runs together. You thought it was cute when he’d try his hardest to make light of the situation whilst guiding you from your meetings with Negan. He was making an effort for you to warm to him. You began to see his less intimidating side, sort of. Simon is far more intelligent than the majority of the Saviors, but he could also have a laugh and joke around. Some of the Saviors are so serious all the time. You just didn’t fully trust Simon; you would regularly misjudge his reaction to certain situations. That annoyed you. You couldn’t read him easily. It made him fascinating.

Your listening and observation skills were put to good use. After about two years of having no choice about being a Savior, Negan assigned you as the camp counsellor in a sense. You were hesitant to accept his offer at first, as you knew there had to be a catch. Negan simply said whilst raising his palms to you “No catch sweetheart. It’ll keep you out of fucking trouble and I want you to be useful that’s all.” That’s all? Yeah right. You soon came to realise he wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of his heart, but instead for his own benefit so you’d feel like you had a purpose at the Sanctuary and guilty if you ever left your responsibilities and tried to escape. Mind games in other words. That’s what being a Savior was. You stuck with it regardless as it distracted you and kept Negan off your scent. You’re poorly qualified for the role of course but no one knew or had any proof of the matter. As long as you acted as though you knew what you were talking about and used a few long psychological words now and then from the old days, you could fool anyone.

You did your rounds; visiting anyone who wanted to talk. It was a small amount of people as most of the folks at the Sanctuary didn’t trust you’d keep details from their sessions a secret because they knew that eventually you’d have to tell Negan when he ordered you to do so. The small amount who did want to talk just stuck to the basics of what worried them about dealing with the world the way it is, whether it be critical life skills or having to deal with walkers. You were there to give your support and lie to them. You found yourself repeating the words “it’s ok, everyone feels like this. This is how the world works now” etc.

You were made to visit Negan’s wives on occasion. You were there to listen so his wives could tell you what was bothering them or what worries they had. You were under strict oath to not give them any advice Negan wouldn’t. When Simon gave you these instructions on your first visit, you just scoffed softly which made him arch one of his eyebrows; confused you found what he said funny. You enjoyed the effect of interacting with Simon had on you. Speaking to Simon made your heart beat a bit faster.

Guards outside Negan’s room reminded you on countless occasions before entering that you are not to get too involved with his wives’ problems. You are there for them to vent. You will not give advice; you will be there for the sole purpose to listen and for them to get things off their chest, and nothing else. It was drummed into your head so frequently that you could recite it word for word when his minions spoke it.

You had an inkling that the recently amped up security was due to one of the wives confessing to Negan about you and Sherry’s hidden friendship and planning of something. You didn’t know which one spilled the beans but you thought you could trust them. You were hurt.

Whilst Sherry was at the Sanctuary you two were very close. She told you her whole life story about her and Dwight and her deal with Negan. It made you sympathise and have a little more patience with Dwight. You’d leave notes for each other instead of actually speaking in person in risk of getting caught. Burning the notes after reading them was agreed upon too. When Negan or anyone else was present you and Sherry acted as though you two hated the guts of one another. In reality it was quite the opposite. You admired her selflessness and bravery. When she told you she was planning to escape, you wished her all the luck in the world. The last thing you said to her before she escaped was “We’ll see each other again soon.” Some part of you really hoped you would. You stopped yourself leaving with Sherry; you had to use all of your will to do so because god knows you yearn for the freedom, but you didn’t want to jeopardise her chance of a better life outside the walls so you decided against leaving the same time.

After listening to Negan’s wives, you would reward yourself with a glass of alcohol he had on offer. Of course no one was aware of this treat but you couldn’t resist. Good alcohol was a luxury and only the best was saved for Negan. Sometimes when you felt extra courageous you’d try and steal a full bottle of something alcoholic in your messenger bag. You never had enough time to do so and instead opt for the small airplane bottles of liquor that mysteriously made their way into your rucksack after your visits.

You leave one of the wives’ rooms after a brief visit and her bedroom door clicks closed behind you. It leads out to the main room where you have your meetings with Negan. You’re about to leave but as you pass the drinks cabinet, a bottle of tequila with a yellow plastic sombrero on the screw lid caught your eye. The liquid twinkled from the light that poured in from the window at the end of the room. The large room was empty and the air was still; waiting for you to make a decision. You jog over to the small bar at the end of the room and squat down behind the drinks cabinet. You hear blood pumping harshly in your ears as your hands quietly slide the bottle of tequila into your messenger bag draped over your shoulder. It sags as it rests on the floor whilst you’re squatting.

You stand and can feel the weight of the bottle as it hung suspended in the bag. The door knob rattles then the door swings open. You positioned the strap comfortably and turn to make your way toward the door. The pit of your stomach turns when you see Simon leaning on the doorframe. The bicep he chose to hold his weight on is perfectly outlined by the material of his shirt. The tanned skin on his forearms is visible as he’s rolled the long sleeves of his shirt up to the crook of his thick hairy arms. Your eyes become very wide out of fear of being caught and at the attractive sight before you. You feel your pulse in your throat.

“You finished Doc?” Good, he didn’t see you stealing the bottle of tequila.

“Yeah.” You reply uncomfortably. You watch Simon’s beautiful brown eyes try and detect the reason of your awkward vibe. After scanning Negan’s living room and finding nothing out of the ordinary, he turns back to you.

“Good. Let’s go.” Simon smiles a toothy grin and his moustache turns up with his mouth. He waits for you to exit with his thumbs resting in his belt loops. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, something’s off. When he stands aside to give you space as you’re walking out the doorway, you twist your neck to glance at him. He just raises his eyebrows at you and hangs his muscular arm out in front of you. “Lead the way Y/N.” Simon takes his usual position and follows close behind you.

It’s an unsettling walk back to your room with Simon. The glugs and sloshing noises the bottle of tequila is making when you move or adjust the bag on your shoulder gives you heart palpitations. Can Simon hear it too? Your footsteps on the tiled floor seem louder than usual and Simon’s whistle echoes in the hallway.

“What do you carry around in that bag of yours anyway?” Simon’s low voice booms in the corridor as well as his heavy work boots, and belt buckle jingling as he marches behind you.

You keep your head forward. “Not much. Some bottled water maybe a pen and paper so I can write notes or follow up questions for my clients.”

“Ooh Clients. Aren’t we posh?” Simon mimics you. A small air of silence lingers before he speaks again. “… seems a bit heavier than a bottle of water and a pen n’paper…”

“It’s a big bottle of water.” You lie through your teeth keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you before turning the corner.

“Thirsty girl are ya?”

“… Yeah.” You reply uneasily. You focus on the stillness for a couple seconds. Simon’s boots make a light stomping noise as he walks. You adjust the strip of material hanging from your shoulder as a way of doing anything with your hands and distracting yourself from the tenseness of the situation. Simon takes this as a sign you’re struggling to carry the bag. You’re uncertain around Simon at the best of times, why was he being so weird? Why are you more aware of what you do or say around him?

“It’s heavy huh? Jam packed full of notes and stuff?” Simon watches for your reaction.

“No-it’s-fine. I’m fine.” You rest your palm on the top of the bag as you walk. Simon’s eyes stare at your hand then you can almost feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your skull.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs his heavy shoulders.

The two of you stop when you reach the door to your room. You’ve walked this route about a hundred times. As you turn the doorknob and go to step inside, a large hand grips your shoulder to turn you around. You feel the heat from Simon’s grasp through your shirt. He reaches his other hand onto the shoulder where the strap from your bag hung. You stare up into his face hoping he can’t read your mind. He’s smart but not that smart… hopefully. You notice how much his moustache moves when he speaks.

“Now Y/N. You know you can talk to me about anything. A lot of folks come to you to get things off their chest. You need that too.” Genuine concern was out of character for Simon. You weren’t sure if he was winding you up or not. It made you nervous. Does he know about the alcohol?

“Ok…?” You acted like you didn’t know what he was hinting at.

“Do you wanna talk? About an-y-thing?” Simon’s speech slowed so you could hear his every word. He hung on every syllable, and watched you intensely, bowing his head slightly making his eyes seem darker and more sinister. You couldn’t or didn’t want to pull away from his gaze. You felt so small in his hold around your arms. His tight shirt strained around his wide shoulders.

“Uh… no. I’m fine.” You swallow and give Simon an uneasy smile whilst staring into his coffee coloured eyes. He knows I’m lying. Simon waits for your confession but it’s a long wait and you don’t deliver. His grip on you weakens and his arms swing back to him. He sighs, places his hands on his hips and motions with his head for you to retreat into your room. You nod and disappear into your room shutting your door behind you and quickly locking it.

With your back against your door you inhale deeply to relax your heartbeat then breathe out slowly. After dumping your bag onto the small dining table, the glass from the bottle does a muffled clink when it hits the wood. You make small shushing motions towards the inanimate object and brace yourself for Simon to burst through your door, but there was nothing. You tell yourself you need to calm down and what better way to calm your nerves than with a glass of liquid courage. You grab a short glass cup that was draining by the sink and place it on the dining table next to your bag. Little did you know, Simon was leaning casually on the other side of your door with his ear pressed upon it; listening for the familiar twist sound of a bottle seal breaking and the glug of alcohol being poured.

After tugging your boots off you carefully bring out the bottle of tequila from your bag and prevent it making too much noise. You push your bag to the floor then break the seal of the bottle with a twist of the cap and begin to pour some of the amber liquid into your glass. You sit the bottle down on the table and swirl the glass around. It sloshes against the light coming in through the small window at the top of the wall to your left. Your nose inhales above the rim of the glass making your mouth moisten. You’ve longed for the taste of a good drink. No turning back now. You sigh and throw the liquid down your throat. It’s been so long since you’ve had Tequila this strong so it instantly makes you cough when it burns your throat on the way down. Your hand pours another shot but before you can pick up the glass to drink it, you jump; startled at a loud thump from a fist on your door.

“Y/N? You’re gonna wanna open this door. NOW.” You hear Simon’s brash voice on the other side of the wall. You can hear in his tone that he’s not very happy. You suddenly start to panic.

“Just a second!” You frantically try to hide the bottle back in your bag that’s on the floor.

“NOW! BEFORE I KICK IT THE FUCK DOWN!” Simon bellows through the door.

“Alright! Gimme a minute.” You throw the glass cup in the sink not caring if it smashes on impact and scream as your door is being kicked off one of its hinges from the force and strength of Simon’s leg. He’s now standing in your room blocking the doorway so there’s nowhere to run. Shit.

“I said, now.” His eyebrow is arched and his eyes are scary. Why are you turned on at this moment? You glance down and frown at your door that’s hanging on the doorframe and probably won’t shut properly again.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ [Chapter 2 coming soon!]

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russellthornton · 8 years ago

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Single for Life: Enjoy the Ride and Find the One Along the Way

There are many times that we feel like we’ll be single for life – especially as we get older. But don’t worry, here are some things to consider.

Our society can be cruel to single people. It’s almost like being unattached is a disease or something. But really, why is being single all that bad? It’s not! But if you’re approaching 30 *or God forbid, past 30* then people start asking you when you’re going to get married and have babies. And the subtext is always this… “Are you going to be single for life?”

Don’t worry! If you want to find someone, then I will give you some guidance for how to do that. But if you don’t, that’s cool too. And even if you haven’t found “The One” yet, there are ways to appreciate being single.

How to stop being single for life

Being single in today’s technological age is very fortunate! Believe it or not, back in the day, people had to meet face-to-face. And there was even a time when people placed personal ads in newspapers to find people. This was sort of the precursor to online dating, and now it sounds really cheesy, doesn’t it?

But here are some great ways you can find a romantic partner and stop being single for life. It just takes a bit of effort.

#1 Tinder. Okay, okay. I know… the hookup app. It has a bad reputation for that. But, in recent years, normal people who are looking for relationships have joined. So why not give it a try?

You just never know where you might find your soul mate. It might sound like a desperate move when you feel like you’ll be single for life, but try it out! [Read: Creative Tinder lines to snag you a date on the first try]

#2 POF. Just like Tinder, Plenty of Fish can also have a creepy reputation to certain people as well. But I have known people who have found their significant other on both POF and Tinder. They are both free *with the option to upgrade*, so there may be a lot of undesirable people on there. But you just need to learn to spot the red flags.

#3 Match. Match.com is kind of the granddaddy of online dating. It’s been around for quite some time. It does cost money to join, but that can actually be a good thing. If people have to pay, then they might actually be more serious about finding a real relationship.

#4 Other online dating sites. These days, you can find about a billion different dating sites and apps. Like the paranormal? Yep, there’s paranormaldate.com. Want to date a millionaire? There’s millionairematch.com. The only problem with those kinds of sites or apps is that you don’t get as many people to choose from. But maybe the people are more like-minded. So, it’s a toss-up. [Read: Weird dating websites for those with unusual tastes!]

#5 Meetup.com. This website is not concerned with dating, but rather it’s a place where you can meet like-minded people. If you like to hike, why not join a hiking meetup group? You might find some hot singles who are also going for a walk in the woods. Or if you like spirituality, maybe you will find someone who shares your passions.

#6 Take classes. If you haven’t finished your college degree, why not try going back to get it done? It’s always easy to meet people in class. But even if you have completed it, or even if you just feel too old for the college crowd, you can take all kinds of classes. You could try yoga, cooking, or art classes.

The point is to not only meet new people, but meet people who like doing the same things as you do. [Read: How to meet new people – 16 exciting ways to find a new crowd]

#7 Join a club. There are a ton of clubs you can join. If you’re a professional, then join a club that does business networking. If it is co-ed *some are not*, then you never know who you might meet! How awesome would that be to not only further your career, but find the person of your dreams at the same time?

#8 Ask your friends to set you up. Yes, this is a bit old-fashioned. But it works! Who knows you better than your friends? And your friends have friends. And they have friends. And so on.

And these days, it’s not technically a “blind date.” You always have the option to stalk them on social media to see what they look like and what they’re like before you meet them. Not that I’m advocating stalking or anything. But it works! [Read: 13 blind dating tips for a happy blind date]

#9 Turn to social media. Look at your friends’ friend lists. Is there anyone cute on there? If so, maybe you could check out their profile and see if they’re single… and if you think you might be compatible with them *sorry about the stalking factor again, but you know we all do it!* If you find someone you like, send them a friend request. Then if they accept, strike up a conversation on private message.

#10 Hire a match maker. I know, I know. This one sounds REALLY outdated. But they really do still exist! They’re not cheap, but it might be a great way to get some expert help.

There are plenty of match makers who let women join their databases for free, so check them out. And for the guys out there, well, it will probably cost you. But if money is not an issue for you, then why not give it a try? [Read: How to have an awesome first date with an online match]

Don’t get discouraged if you don’t find someone right away. Finding a compatible romantic partner takes time. And if you rush into it and do it wrong, you certainly will be single for life! Meanwhile, let’s look at why you should enjoy being singe before you meet your soul mate.

4 reasons to enjoy being single

Until you meet that special someone, you should focus on the positives of being single! After all, if you meet Mr. or Ms. Right, then there will be a trade-off. Yes, it’s great to be in love, but you will need to give up some things. So here are some reasons to enjoy being single while you can.

#1 You can be selfish. No need to ask permission to have a Netflix marathon and eat ice cream all night. And you also don’t have to ask anyone if they think it’s a good idea if you spend money. You can do whatever the heck you want! It’s very freeing and liberating. So, enjoy it while you have the opportunity to do so. [Read: 15 reasons why being single can be a lot of fun too]

#2 You get quality sleep. Let’s face it. While it’s nice to snuggle with your partner, it doesn’t always give you quality sleep… especially if your bed isn’t very big. When you’re single, there’s no one’s snoring that wakes you up, and there’s no one else tossing and turning all night. It’s just you. And that means great sleep!

#3 You don’t have to feel stuck in a bad relationship. I don’t know about you, but for me, there’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re trapped in a bad relationship. Okay, I know there are tons of worse things, but you get my point. I think it’s better to be single and happy rather than committed and miserable. Don’t you? [Read: The thirst is real – 15 realities of being single for far too long]

#4 You can focus on your career. When you get married and have kids, other people become your priority. It’s just a fact of life. So, if you’re really ambitious, it’s great to be single. Use this time alone to climb up that corporate ladder or start your own business. There’s no better time to do it!

[Read: 11 things about being single that people fear the most]

All of us have felt like we’ll be single for life at some point in our lives . But not many of us are. So, follow these tips to find the person of your dreams, but enjoy being single in the meantime.

The post Single for Life: Enjoy the Ride and Find the One Along the Way is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

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