#who wants to go get bahn mi with me?

[anoceanofblackglass]

I have the weirdest craving for a bahn mi sandwich right now. It just sounds so good and there's nowhere close by that has them 😭

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 27

Not much to report! Yippee thanksgiving is coming! I'm so excited to hang out with my niece and do my gas up call and relax with a nice day off. I thought I'd feel melancholic about the holidays because it'll be the first holidays in many years that my ex-partners aren't part of it, but I feel very content and excited that I have plans lined up with loved ones for thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. All the work I've done in the last 6 months has really paid off for me lol, two filled journals, many therapy appointments, dozens of conversations and buckets of tears later, and I am alright and ready to enjoy the holidays with people who make me feel wanted and cared for. I'm gonna give y'all a double excerpt day because I have two that are basically right next to each other scene wise AND I've been slackin' on my journal entries. I def won't be here tomorrow, gonna be busy eating my weight in Bahn mi, cheese cake, turkey, potatoes of many varieties, and sleeping intermittently lmao. My excerpts for you this morning are from Blood Sun Territory, in which Dolcezza and Malachi are on the road and have encountered the scariest monster on the territory, the Seneca beast. AH SENECA BEAST! Enjoy lol

Taglist: @tragedycoded @theskeletonprior @badscientist @thelittlestspider If you'd like to be on my taglist, please interact with this post!

“Run!” Dolcezza shouts at Malachi, and before the singular word is even finished escaping Dolcezza’s lips Malachi has turned back towards the truck in a mad dash. He can’t believe something like that exists, that it’s alive, let alone that it was once a person. Dolcezza fires his flare gun while coming up right behind Malachi and when Dolcezza takes his hand and forces the pace that much faster, Malachi doesn’t resist, heaving for breath as his heart pounds in an impossible, siren like rhythm in his ears. The monster behind them doesn’t pursue in a hurry, but it doesn’t have to, it’s huge, it’s long, loping steps closing the space between them, it’s drooling, fang lined maw dripping blood onto the earth that some how Malachi can hear beyond the beat of his heart, his senses hyper-focused on how it is coming, it is closer, it is on them. Dolcezza throws the door open and shoves Malachi inside, climbing in on top of him because there’s no time for him to go around and get in on the driver’s side. He yanks the door shut, body pressed up on top of Malachi’s, his torso arched over Malachi’s in a protective posture even though they’re in the car. Surely it can’t do anything to the car, right? The answer comes in the way the car jostles as the beast leans it’s body against the vehicle, growling low in its throat as it begins to circle. This makes sense of some of the cars Malachi had seen along the way and he is terrified. Bites curling the tops of cars open like cans, gaping stretches of jagged metal carved open by claws. Dolcezza had explained to him some, that some of the beasts were hostile if confronted, but this is different, this one sought them out it seems like, came from nowhere like a ghost. It goes around the back of the truck and Dolcezza scrambles over Malachi to get into the driver’s seat, rocking his hips upward to get his car keys out of his pocket and putting them in the ignition. He doesn’t turn the engine over though, instead looking in the rearview mirror. 

“What are you—”

“SHH!” Dolcezza says before Malachi can finish his frantic whisper, his eyes trained on the rearview mirror. Malachi tries to catch his breath, and looks into the mirror too, for the first time getting a good look at the thing, as good as he can get in the pitch dark of the night anyway. It is enormous, it’s dark fur like that of a wolf’s up until it reaches the back of its skull, flaring out like the mane of a lion. The hair ends there and dark, pinkish skin stretches out from beneath the fur to keep ahold of the bare skull of some sort of dog. It’s not a wolf, Malachi isn’t sure why he knows that, but he does— a coyote maybe? It looks into the rearview mirror with eyes that glow like beacons, red as the sky when all things change, and both Dolcezza and Malachi reflexively look away as though catching it’s gaze will issue a challenge. The truck creaks as the monster presses up against it again and Malachi looks to Dolcezza through the dark, trying to communication his desperate hope that Dolcezza will turn on the truck and get them the fuck out of here. He’s not looking at Malachi though, he’s got his head tilted, listening to the monster as it moves around the back of the truck. He tenses up and Malachi grips the seat for dear life when there is a hideous, loud crunching sound, when metal and bone are squeezed together as the beast sinks it’s teeth into the truck’s bed-door and rips the damn thing clean off. It keeps it in its mouth and crunches the door, causing the metal to squeal, and then it lopes away down the road with the door in its maw.

~~~~

Malachi is hyper vigilant as they drive, the headlights feeling utterly useless after what happened with what Dolcezza has explained is the Seneca Beast. They can see the road ahead of them and a little past it at its edges, but beyond that is total, encompassing darkness and looming shapes that make him want to sink into his seat and hide. Dolcezza is driving, tense but calm comparatively, his gaze trained on the road ahead. 

“Why did you wait? It fucked up your truck.” Malachi asks, trying his best not to sound accusatory about it because more than anything he’s curious about Dolcezza’s decision than angry that it caused him to endure a few more minutes of fear for his life. 

“The Seneca beast likes to chase shit. It’s different from the rest of ‘em out here. It’ll eat anything and it’ll chase anything. That’s why so many folks end up disappearin’ out here when they’re drivin’ through. We try to save ‘em of course, but the territory’s big and they don’t know no better about the beasts and how they act up. Most of the time folks that are passin’ through get too comfortable after seein’ the ones that just roam about eatin’ grass and shit. Think there’s no danger but that of the mind bein’ opened to new ideas about what livin’ things oughta look like. But then the night comes, and they’re makin’ a lot of noise and drivin’ fast and the Seneca beast gets the scent of motor oil and comes runnin’. I’ve had more run ins with that thing than I care to tell you about and I’ve learned if ya can get in the car and be patient with it, it might rip your mirrors off or bite a hole into your frame, but it loses interest fast in shit that don’t scream and struggle and it’ll go away. I’ve replaced that damn door ‘bout ten times in my years doin’ this and eight of ‘em have been that fucker deciding that’s the tastiest part of my truck.” Malachi almost wants to laugh at that. It’s bordering on mundane, the way Dolcezza explains it, except that he can imagine all the times Dolcezza hasn’t been there to warn people how to behave around the Seneca beast, the sheer amount of blood shed that must result from people listening to their survival instincts in the face of a frankly impossible creature. 

“No one’s tried to kill it?” He asks. 

“We don’t kill the monsters. Most of the time, we can’t even if we wanted to. Somethin’ keeps them goin’ out here… early on when people were scared outta their wits there was a lot of tryin’ to kill ‘em, but you could put a hundred bullets in any one of them beasts and they’d get up and start spittin’ ‘em out like sunflower seeds before carryin’ on like nothin’ happened. Only monsters that die are monsters killed by other ones. Seneca eats them too, other beasts I mean. An’ sometimes people change together and fight it out, one is stronger, eats the other. But as far as what we got out here to protect ourselves? Don’t make one lick of difference to something like Seneca. Plus, you gotta remember that’s someone’s family, changed as they are. I don’t know who Seneca belonged to before they turned over, but that was someone’s baby, someone’s family. We usually know these days, and with how close everyone is, don’t no one got the heart to try and kill their loved ones once they’ve turned. Some of the folks in town will fire off rounds into ‘em to blow off steam… I mean… your wife or husband turns and eats your kids, enough to make anyone murderous,” Dolcezza’s voice is different in some way Malachi can’t quite put his finger on when he poses such a hypothetical, but he carries on before Malachi can really inspect it, “But we don’t kill ‘em, don’t try to. Just try to survive ‘em.”

“Why is the Seneca beast like that?” Malachi asks, looking back in the truck’s hatch window like by talking about that thing it will return, summoned like the supernatural entity it is. Dolcezza laughs. 

“Shit, Malachi, I don’t fuckin’ know. I got theories, but everybody’s got theories, and most of us ain’t educated in the matters of animals let alone whatever order of creation the beasts land in. It just is, it just eats. It’s got a territory out by the mountains that it wanders durin’ the day, and most nights it’ll stay out there too, but it’s fast and quiet and dark enough that you don’t really see it comin’ til you see it’s eyes and then? If ya don’t know nothin’ bout it you’re good and fucked.” Malachi sighs, rubbing his eyes. He feels a little nauseous, and so, so tired. The Seneca beast may be gone, satisfied with its hunk of metal after coming after them, but the scare of interacting with it has drained him as if he’d been chased by it all night long. 

“You look like shit. Scared the hell out of ya huh?” Dolcezza teases with a side glance, huffing a laugh. “I know. If it’s any consolation, ain’t much worse than Seneca out here. Weirder, for sure, but not worse. Sleep a little while, I’ll wake ya up if there’s trouble, but I think we’ll be alright. Should make it into town just at sun up.” Dolcezza reassures, and Malachi nods a little. 

“What about you?” He asks, “Aren’t you tired?” 

“Oh sure, but I’m on the job. Gotta keep it truckin’, no pun intended.” He teases, winking at Malachi. 

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Wish come true - Adrien AUGreste Day 18+19

I imagined this one going slightly different but it ended the same, Adrien's Italian anger coming out in defense of the people he loves. Another thank you to @etherealxgenie for betaing. Masks

Adrien was still reeling from what happened earlier. He’d immediately gone to the Liberty after they left and they had to video chat Ivan and Rose – who surprisingly was home – to tell them the news. If he thought they were excited, Anarka was even more so. She might not like Jagged Stone but she was more than willing to cause trouble for Bob Roth. Adrien just hoped Juleka and Luka recorded when the two finally met.

He was typing out an email to his dad, bursting with excitement when he heard the front door open. He dropped his laptop to the side and climbed down his bed, running to the front door.

“Mama, Mama, you’re never going to believe what just happened! I got to meet – oh. I didn’t know we had a guest coming over.” behind his mother was an older gentleman. Compared to his father’s own style of suits, this man looked like a stereotypical high-profile lawyer, with his pressed suit and squirmy looking face.

“Adrien, I don’t know if you remember Signor St Claire? You went to school with his daughter Elizabeth in New York?”

Elizabeth? Then Adrien remembered. “Betty St Claire. Class president and president of the cultural society.”

“That’s my girl!”

And also, the most spoiled brat in the whole school. She was like Lila in terms of annoyance and Chloe, pre-change, in terms of behavior. She constantly insulted those she thought was beneath her, acting like her behavior was completely acceptable. Most of the students hated her, but because her father was a diplomat who was well known to be connected with politicians and the current president – who happened to also be a superhero – they would bend to her will. Adrien never had to, except when her mother was invited to parties by Betty’s father. Then, he had to pretend he was a follower of her, like he was this spoiled diplomat kid who had power and abused it whenever he wanted.

He hated that persona diplomate kids took, acting like just because their parents moved and they had a high pay check to pay for things it meant they could treat people who didn’t have that like crap. It took Adrien a long time to accept what his parents did as they’d been doing it since he was a child. It was rare they’d let him stay with his nonna in Italy while they moved. He learned to work with what he lived with, even more so when the fighting was getting worse. He had every right to be like those other kids but he wasn’t going to let them turn him into something he wasn’t. So, he didn’t spend much time with Betty, not playing her mind games, unless he had no choice. Betty had her father wrapped around her finger and she knew it. in a school full of people whose parents needed him for something, if they pissed her off or went against her, all she had to do was go crying to daddy and all that support would be ripped away. With her dad standing right there, it didn’t take much for Adrien to guess why he was here.

“I hear you’ve been pretty close to these new heroes and villains. Must have been quite scary getting akumatized.”

“Something like that. Thankfully people like mama are trying to do things that will help.”

“And we’re hoping Signor St Claire will offer his support as well.” his mother said.

“You’re really gonna have to convince me, Rossi. So, what are you going to make me for dinner?”

Oh god, he was one of those guys.

“Take out. You’ll be staying at the Italian Embassy while we host you, I’m sure you’ll get sick of Italian food very quickly. Adrien, caro, why don’t you suggest something?”

“Ever had bahn mi?”

“N-no. can’t say I have. I’ll have to ask for your suggestion.”

“While Adrien does that, how about a glass of wine?”

That brightened him up. “If you’d be so kind.”

Because the kitchen was open into the living area, Adrin slipped into Italian, but still spoke softly. Betty might not have passed her foreign language classes but he wasn’t sure about her father.

“What’s going on?”

“After Hero Day, all those who came to France to offer help and suggestions finally agreed on things that should be implemented. But after going over the budget, we don’t have as much funds. Most money is put towards counseling for those who’ve been akumatized and we don’t feel right taking money from that for these suggestions. So, we’ve asked our countries to donate and even gone to the UN. We’re getting a grant from them but we’re still missing a substantial amount, an amount that most countries wouldn’t think to have set aside for instances like this. Except, of course…”

“For the US, New York specifically.”

With all the heroes and villains that lived and centered themselves in the city, it wouldn’t be surprising if a lot of funding was directed there. And because Signor St Claire was so close with those who controlled the direction of the money…

“Will he say yes?”

“That’s what this visit is about. I wish your father was here, he’s much better at this interacting with people part.” His mama was more of ‘Let’s solve this problem together’ compared to his father’s ‘Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. Let's be friends so if either of us need something, we can come to each other.’ “We’re even having a ball to celebrate connections between Italy and America that he’ll be representing America at. Betty will also be there.”

“Mama.”

“Adrien, please. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

And it was, god damnit, it was. If Paris wasn’t prepared for events where Miraculous Reset didn’t happen after a fight or if the heroes were unaware of the akuma due to its powers, they’d need help.

“You wanted to tell me something when we came in?”

Tell his mother about the best thing while they both had to deal with this? He was getting better at not hiding things from his parents, minus the thing with Lila, but he was sure Luka couldn’t begrudge him this.

“Not important. I’ll play nice.”

                             _______________________________

Luka looked around the reception area of the Italian Embassy. He’d seen pictures of a lot of museums and well-known buildings and castles in Italy and it seemed to fit. He mostly heard Italian being spoken, able to pick up a few words from what Adrien taught him, a bit of English and very accented French. The receptionist finally came around the corner, a man following her.

“Signor? This is Signor St Claire. He’ll be accepting the delivery.”

“I hear you have the name cards? And the ones for table settings?”

“Yes sir.” Luka handed him the box in question. He flinched a little when he pulled out a pocket knife to cut the tape and judging from the receptionist's face, she didn’t like it either. Opening the box and pulling out one of the cards, M. St Claire looked them over before nodding.

“Perfect. Here you go son.” He pulled out a $100 US bill and handed it to Luka, collapsing his knife and taking the box and leaving.

He looked at the sort of useless bill. His mom had a collection of $1 from every country she visited but he wasn’t planning on visiting America anytime soon. He was still trying to see if his school’s request to College Dupont would be accepted to allow him to join their class trip to London. He turned to the receptionist who’s exasperated face matched his.

“You can 100% say no, but do you mind…?”

“Of course. In fact, the Ambassador is heading to America with Signor St Claire when he leaves, I’m sure he’ll have change. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.” Unclipping his helmet, he pulled it off, ruffling his hair, wondering if he should text Adrien. The band’s parents were going to need to speak with Bob Roth and Jagged Stone to work out the details of the contract and their debut. He still couldn’t believe it when Adrien and Marinette told them. Adrien’s piano skills caught the rocker’s attention so much, he was giving them this chance to impress him just as much and Luka was dying to prove him right in giving them this chance.

“It’s so pretty!” Tikki climbed out of his hood, hiding under his hair as she looked around. “Is Adrien here?”

“I don’t know. I guess I could at least say hi to his mom.”

“It’s so small!” A new voice, accented French, worse than M. St Claire’s, echoed loudly in the hall as a girl Juleka’s age, with long curly red hair and a sneer on her lips came down the stairs. Following her, this odd look on his face was Adrien. “The school’s foyer is bigger than this. Daddy expects the party to be here?”

“The ballroom is big enough for the guest list.” Adrien said with a small smile. It didn’t seem real though.

“Please, it’s daddy. If they were at all smart, they’d have the ball at the hotel that idiot Mayor owns. I mean, can he even do that? Own a hotel, a movie company and run Paris? Though I guess the rest of the city knows where the actual power lies, with that brat of a daughter. I met her and she acted like she was so much better, with her little dog following her every word.”

Luka noticed Adrien’s hands clench, though the smile never left his face.

“Betty, this way, all the attention can be on you and your dad. A bigger ballroom would take away from that.”

The sneer morphed into a deformed smirk. “It would be a shame if that weren’t able to happen. My dress is from one of the best designers in New York. I hope you picked up some sense of fashion living here. I swear, you used to just wear whatever during free dress day at school.”

Luka then noticed it, Adrien’s heart song. It was normally a very pleasant piano melody. It’s tune changes depending on his mood. His favourite was the giddy yet soft tone it took when he kissed him. This… this was like you not knowing how to play the piano in terms of its chaos but oddly at the same time, you did know and you were going for a soundtrack that expressed all the anger in the world. But he still had that smile on his face.

“Well, no one can beat your fashion.”

“Obviously.” She scoffed, reaching the bottom of the stairs and heading to the front door when she spotted him. “And who are you? Thieves won’t get very far.”

“I don’t think he’s a thief.” Adrien jumped in. “Helmet and the fact that he’s still standing here probably means delivery guy?”

“Whatever. Still sure he’s stealing. I’m getting security.” The girl walked off before Luka could defend himself.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Are you? I can hear your heart song, it’s in chaos and you’re mad, like really mad. What’s going on?”

Before Adrien could answer, the receptionist returned, change in hand. “Here you are. Signor Rossi, anything I can help you with? Where’s Signoria St Claire?”

St Claire? As in the man who was carrying around a knife?

“Attempting to get security. I’ll go stop her. Sorry.” Adrien apologized, before running off after Betty. As much as he wanted to go after him, something told him it was better to leave. But he needed one more bit of information.

“Sorry, but is Boulangerie Patisserie doing pastries here tomorrow? I work as a delivery person for them and I was curious if I needed to plan to arrive early for this ball.”

“As far as I know, they might? We also have a local Italian bakery doing food as well.”

“Why did you want to know if Marinette’s family were working the event?” Tikki asked as he got to his bike.

“I haven’t heard from Adrien all day, so I want to know if this discord is something only, I've seen or if it’s something everyone knows about.”

Marinette was working at the register, her mother talking to someone on the phone and her father working away if the noise from the kitchen was any indication. She perked up at the sight of him, waving him over.

“Have you talked to Adrien?”

“I just saw him at the Embassy. Do you know what’s going on?”

“I don’t know the whole story, but he was dropped off by an embassy car this morning.” An odd start. Once Adrien knew his way to school, he either took the walk through the park or took the metro. “There was a girl with him. Chloe recognised her and Alya found her online. Elizabeth St Claire. She might have followers who are jealous of her lifestyle but most comments are about her behaviour and even Chloe couldn’t stand her. She met her the day before; her dad is an American diplomat with some pretty rich friends.”

Rich friends? “Wait, did Chloe mention anything about the decision for implementing things to help with akumas?”

“I think she said they agreed on things. She might have also mentioned something about money?”

When the talks started, his mom had mentioned she hoped they could afford it. Having to create a new budget to deal with akumatization was difficult and since Miraculous Reset fixed everything, the budget was kinda small. If Adrien was willingly hanging out with a person who’s manners clearly made him mad but had him biting his tongue, then there was a chance he had to pretend to be ok with this.

“Is your family doing an order for an event at the Italian Embassy?”

“Yeah, that’s why my mom’s on the phone. She’s doing a final check of their order. Did you want to come? The event’s in two days. I could use a hand as a waiter.”

“Please.”

                                    ________________________

“Can you believe that Boudoir girl? She looks like a little girl in that dress.”

“Bourgeois. Like the fashion critic. That’s her mother.” Adrien said, keeping the stupid peace though all he wanted was to shave Betty’s hair off. She was dressed in a backless short dress and had the nerve to say something bad about Chloe’s dress, the asymmetric hem and lace looking dainty on her, especially with her hair down.

“God, she must be so embarrassed that’s her daughter. I think I’d just kill myself.”

And he wanted to take the serving dish Luka and Marinette were carrying around and slam it on her head. Three days, he’d put up with her insults for three days while his mother tried getting the head of the St Claire family to agree to fund the ScarCat Assistance Program, as his mother finally announced it. He’d even heard Alya going insane over being asked to use the name for it. He'd distanced himself from his friends to keep his cool, which made things worse when Betty, who was always in the embassy car when he was dropped off, would loudly insult anyone she saw, giving fake smiles when they turned to her. He wanted to actually be violent with her, but he couldn’t. Not yet, not until his mom was covered. There’d been no approach by Scarlet Bug or Catseye about the note they left and while Scarlet Bug had disappeared the time he and Luka were going to St Vincent for the pictures, there was no telling what would happen if neither of the heroes were there to reset everything. They needed to program.

“Oh my god, look at those wait staff. What is this, such a sad excuse for Molin Rouge adaptation?”

“Moulin Rouge.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than correct me all day?” she asked, turning to him.

“Sorry.”

She scoffed at him, walking away and he let his mask break a little to glare at her. Clearly Lila had spoiled him, he forgot how annoying she was.

“Deep breaths.” A very welcomed voice said, lifting a tray to him full of macaroons. “Yellow is your favourite.”

“Passion fruit.” He plucked one off and looked at his boyfriend. “I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

“Marinette filled me in. Your ‘friend’ knows how to make an impression. If I didn’t know you, I would assume you were fine with her abuse.”

“We’re this close to getting the program, I just need to keep her happy.”

“Adrien!” Betty reappeared, looking annoyed. “You left me talking to myself like an idiot.”

Pasting that smile on again, he looked apologetic, “I didn’t know you wanted me to follow you. Macaroon?”

“Does it have eggs?”

“It’s a meringue cookie, so yes.” Luka answered. When he got a confused look he explained further, “Meringues are made with egg whites.”

“Gross. Get lost. Come on.” she dragged Adrien away, who gave Luka an apologetic look over his shoulder.

This continued and the mask of not being bothered was getting harder and harder to keep when his mother stepped on the steps and taped a fork to her glass. Once the room fell quiet, she smiled brightly.

“As many of you know, myself and other diplomates came to Paris to assist the mayor in efforts to help combat Hawkmoth and his attacks. During Hero Day it became very apparent we could not let this slip by us any longer. Measures and suggestions have been agreed upon and the Mayor is ready to implement the ScarCat Assistance Program, named after the famed blog that documents the heroes’ rescues. Our only issue had been money, even with donations made by each country. Tonight however, at this ball to celebrate the bond Italy and America have, their diplomat Signor St Claire has signed a check of 4 million and has already secured from the President of America, a hero in her own right, another 4 billion to put towards the program. With this, we can help Scarlet Bug and Catseye and for those moments where their magic fails, we have a way of helping the city when they can’t. a round of applause for Signor St Claire.”

“What kind of name is ScarBug? It sounds like a disease.” Betty said.

“The only disease is you and the words you constantly spew. It’s like you love hearing the sound of your own voice, even when it’s only capable of saying hate and insults. Take a look in the mirror you porca Eva and actually think for a second if by the time you leave school if anyone is going to want to be around you. I have put up with you insulting my friends these past few days when all I wanted to do was shove you down the stairs. Grow the fuck up and vaffanculo!” Adrien finally spouted. He was loud enough that they certainly got attention, but his mother had the band start playing again if only to distract a little.

“You can’t talk to me that way!”

“Why? You gonna go crying to daddy and tell him to pull the funding? Please, do that, in front of this whole ballroom, including the mayor of Paris and the cameras he has focused on him. I guarantee you that you’ll have gotten your dad fired faster than you can backstab someone.”

Betty let out a frustrated scream and stomped off and a few people who’d dealt with her applauded. He couldn’t help but truly smile as she tried complaining to her father, who was in the middle of guests.

“Caro, a word?” his mother whispered. “What were you thinking? I know you don’t like her but insulting her that loudly? And what about that language? I’m ashamed of you.”

“Mama, normally I’d care, even when it was Lila, but I don’t. It was bad enough playing nice with her at school when I couldn’t ignore her. I had to do it now while she insulted my friends, my boyfriend, staff at the embassy, I’m pretty sure you at one time.”

“Adrien.”

“Mama, I have wanted to do that for ages. Please, punish me later, but let me revel in this, just a little. Oh wait, don’t punish me.”

“And why not? Mio dio Adrien, your behaviour was worse than when you yelled at the Agreste girl in the middle of class.”

“I wanted to tell you before, Jagged Stone.”

“Did you find out I got you tickets? I have half a mind to ban you now.”

“You got me tickets? Wait, I’ll go back to that later. No, Marinette was commissioned to make a jacket for him and I went with her to ask him to save a ticket for me until I could get dad to send me the money, but turns out Marinette gets free tickets for the class. I was messing around on his piano during his fitting and he thought I was so good, he’s gonna get Bob Roth to honour his promise of a contract and he wants us to open for him at his first concert. Mama, Kitty Section is going to open for Jagged Stone.”

“You are? Oh caro, that’s amazing news! I’m so proud of you. It’s not getting you out of punishment, but I’m so happy for you.”

Ok, well he tried. But the good thing was, it sounded like he could do it and bonus, he was finally able to pull Betty down a few pegs.

[eljeebee]

We Go Way Back

Good thing Elizabeth knew the weather conditions in San Myshuno! It's a lot more chilly than in San Sequoia, and her wardrobe is ready! Before she went inside the karaoke bar, Planet Honey Pop!, she grabbed some bahn mi from the kiosks.

Yeah, it's day, and she should go to karaoke bars at night, but day is the only time she gets out when her neice is not around. And hey, they're open, and would get bar-goers too at this time. Maybe it's a San Myshuno thing? Then again, the atmosphere of the bar is funky dark, so it fits what she wants. Maybe when the time comes, she'd be able to experience bars at nighttime.

Patrons of the karaoke bar applauded Elizabeth's performance with the karaoke machine! The bartender gave her drinks on the house if she would take the patrons' song requests, which she did! Elizabeth has been uptight ever since she went to live in Henford-On-Bagley after her family's...tragedy...but this is the first time she gets to relax and let loose.

Elizabeth get to drink a lot of Ridgeports — the same amount of times she went to the bathroom. On her seventh Ridgeport, and on her way to sing again with another patron (she agreed to duet for a Simsmapolitan), she caught a glimpse of a man dressed in crimson, sitting in the couches by the bar.

She paid him no mind, placing back the empty glass of Ridgeport atop the bar, and stumbled to the stage.

The man on the couch looked around, before leaving his seat and taking a stool by the bar. He ordered a plasma jane, and watched Elizabeth and her partner sing their hearts out.

"This is the first time the bar has gotten this loud, and it's not even night yet," the bartender said, sliding a glass of plasma jane. The man in crimson caught it, nodding. "Seriously, that girl is a star."

The man huffed while smiling slightly, taking a sip. He nodded at the man who sat beside him before turning around his stool where he sat to watch the performance.

He watched for a while, taking his drink slowly. When the performance was near the end, he faced the bar again, just in time to see the bartender preparing the Simsmapolitan for Elizabeth. He took a glance around him — they had their attention to the singing. He watched the bartender finished mixing the drink. He brought his glass to his lips; the bartender poured it on a martini glass. A finger subtly lifted from the bar top; he took a sip. A subtle violet cloud surrounded the drink. No one saw it. But he did. Because he made it. He casted a spell on the drink.

He placed his glass down, getting his wallet from his pants and paid the bartender — tip included. "Thanks. Oh, and tell that blonde lady to come see me after she drinks that Simsmapolitan."

The bartender raised a brow. "Do you know her sir?"

"We go way back," he gave him a toothy smile. He's using his charm. "Our families go way back."

The bartender eased, giving him a smile. "Of course, sir."

The man nodded, leaving the stool and returning to his couch.

Elizabeth giggled when her duet partner patted her on her back on the way to the bar. The people around them clapped as they walked.

"One Simsmapolitan for the lady who sings!" The bartender said.

"Thank you!" Elizabeth slid on a stool. She took a sip of her drink.

She was taken a back when she gulped the liquid down. She has been a little hazy for drinking Ridgeports, and she should get more drunk with Simsmapolitan, but this specific Simsmapolitan made her head clear — sober.

"Something wrong?" The bartender asked when they noticed Elizabeth's twisted face.

"No...no, no. This is good!" She smiled awkwardly, gulping down the whole drink.

"Slow down there, lady," they laughed. "By the way, that man over there?"

"Where?" Elizabeth sat up straight and focused her line of sight where they pointed. The man who she caught a glimpse was still there on the couch by the restrooms. He has his attention elsewhere. "Oh, him?"

"Yeah," they nodded. "Said he wanted to talk to you."

"Why?"

Just then, he looked straight at her. He gave her a smirk, teeth protruding. Wait. Not just any teeth. Fangs. Elizabeth's face slightly paled. But she can't look away, nor can bolt from her stool and run. She forced to look away anyway, smiling tightly at the bartender.

"Thanks for the Ridgeports. And the 'politan," she paid her tab.

She left her seat, and was about to dash to the exit when another person went up to her saying, "Going for another round of karaoke?"

"Oh, haha! No, no! I think that's enough singing and Ridgeports," Elizabeth side-stepped, awkwardly laughing.

The door was just there. There. She briskly walked to the exit.

Stop.

And she stopped, stood there, at the middle of the karaoke bar. People around her didn't seem to notice her blocking their way, just walked around her as if she wasn't there.

Come, we need to talk.

She bit her lip. Her body turned her around, and mindlessly walked to the couch.

There, she stood in front of the man in crimson.

"I know what you are," she said, her voice trembling a little bit, and a little loud. But it doesn't matter, someone else was singing again. "You're one of them, aren't you? One of the vampires."

"So you still remember us," he said, nodding. He motioned her to sit, "Sit down. We have something to talk about."

Her eyebrows knit in concentration. She's trying to disobey.

"Elizabeth, it's amazing you can withstand mind control but you don't need to," he sighed. "We can do mental training on another time, we really need to talk."

"How do you know my name?" She frowned.

"We have a history, remember? Now, sit," he said, firmly.

Elizabeth tried to fight it, then groaned. She allowed herself to sit on the other couch.

"Don't worry," he smiled. "We're just here to talk, nothing more."

[sunmarketing]

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

  Welcome to Dr. Mary Travelbest’s 5 Steps to Solo Travel Guide for women like you who need extra support traveling (slowly) one woman at a time. Please share this podcast with your mom, aunts, and friends. I appreciate your feedback.

  I’ve returned from a 90-day trip around the globe to every time zone on the planet. My mission is world peace through cultural exchange. I was sustainable when I could by using local transportation, buses, and trains. I was solo, carrying a small backpack, called a “personal item,” that fit under the seat in front of me on a plane.

  In this episode, FAQ is: What did you wear in Vietnam?

.

Today’s Destination is Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, formerly known as Saigon (south)

Today’s Mistake- Currency exchange rate was high, and I got taken

Travel Advice: - Shoulder season travel will be less costly and more flexible.

  FAQ: What did you wear in Vietnam?

  Like other Southeast Asian countries, it is tropical and humid. I was always hot. I wore the lightest possible clothes and took three showers daily when possible. I also found swimming pools to cool down. I wore a short dress instead of shorts and a blouse. I wore a skirt instead of jeans. I wore sandals. I carried an umbrella for sun protection and wore sunscreen daily. I went out early in the morning and late in the afternoon or evening and slept during the day when I could.

  Today’s destination: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

  Formerly Saigon, it’s on the coast in the South of Vietnam. The city has 18 districts, and most tourists go to 1, 3, and 5. I took the Hop on Hop Off bus at night, which was pretty amazing because the city is lit up at night like a Christmas tree. This experience covered the main tourist attractions in about 90 minutes. I never could have seen all this during the daytime, with the traffic patterns. Most cars I saw were in traffic jams during the day.

  How did I plan this part of my trip? I used Booking.com to find hotels. I read guidebooks and talked to friends who have been to Vietnam, especially recently.

The taxis are safer, especially the green ones. I shared a ride from the airport to my hotel at midnight with two people I met on the plane. The traffic is light at midnight.

During the day, that’s different.

  Quickly, I learned that driving here is a challenge, especially in the Mekong Delta. Listen to that episode. The current exchange rate here is 22,600 dong to the dollar. Your dollar goes far.

  What did I eat? Fhish sauce and pho, bahn mi.

When I got back to HCMC, I was so hungry. Bong Sen Buffet for a $12 buffet.

That was one of the best meals. Try a buffet if you don’t know what to order.

Here’s what I ate: pho pork, duck egg, ice cream, fried rice, red bean soup, snails with ginger, vegetable soup, eggplant, steamed veggies, prunes, watermelon, dragon fruit, banana cake, papaya, and spring rolls.

  I stayed at a different hotel: Huong Sen. https://huongsenhotel.com.vn/aboutus.php?cmblang=en

    Construction noise from a different floor was so loud at 9 a.m. after a vast buffet breakfast one morning when all I wanted was sleep. I switched to an annex hotel down the block, owned by the same company. Later that day, I Swam in the pools at the hotel, with excellent views of the city.

About two blocks away, I walked to the Sheraton Hotel for the 23rd-floor view. That was outstanding, especially near sunset.

I also got another Massage, Thai, this time.

  If you are planning Sights in HCMC, Try these: Rex Hotel, Opera House, downtown shopping malls, and Ben Than Market.

  What I Bought in Ho Chi Minh City:

A folding umbrella for $3.00

Since mine were broken, leather sandals were a good find at the market. I also bought a lock with a key.

Later, I bought Pharmacy for meds for a sinus infection. I did not need a prescription to get antibiotics here. I had them, but I have yet to use them.

  In summary,  Ho Chi Minh City had Great hotel buffet breakfasts and plenty of tourists, and it took a lot of work to cross the street safely. I had to follow someone else to travel with them, as it took experience I did not have.

  Today’s Mistake-.The currency exchange rate was too high.

  I should have talked to more locals before changing money in Vietnam. I got taken.

I changed US dollars to Cambodian dong, which I did not need. They took US dollars there everywhere. I switched to Indian Rupees, but they gave me a currency that was being removed from the country, so it was not usable. And they gave me change in Vietnamese currency, which I did not want. So I paid a fee for that exchange, too. I had a lot to learn. And still do.

  Today’s Travel Advice- Shoulder season travel will be less costly and more flexible.

  You don’t always need the “perfect” season for your travel. Go before or after the peak, and you may find a better overall experience. With climate changes, those traditional windows of weather are not exact. Plan some things and leave other non-essentials to spur of the moment.

    I want to bring meaning to your travels. Send a question or travel tip to info@drmarytravelbest.com. Sign up for the mailing list here. We can connect on my website, Facebook page, group, or Instagram. Subscribe to YouTube, Twitter, or other social channels. Find the 5 Steps to Solo Travel series on Amazon. The show notes have more details for you to connect. Support this podcast with a review, please.

  Connect with Dr. Travelbest

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Check out this Dr Travelbest episode!

[lavendertowerarchives]

It's summer. Which means I don't get to see my friends every day. Which means I talk to them less. Which means I don't talk to anyone.

I want to be able to talk to my friends, but no one ever hits me up. I want to be able to take initiative, but that means shouldering the responsibility of the conversation/hangout going well. If it goes bad, that's on me. That scares me like nothing else does simply because I have zero confidence in my social skills, and for good reason.

There's one person I've been meaning to talk to for months now. She's away, and she is the worst case of "im worried what she thinks of me" that I have right now. I'm just some dumbass to her, which is made worse by the fact that I am in fact just some dumbass. Anything she could get from me, she could get from someone else who she likes more if at all.

What a I trying to get from her? A conversation, basically. I want to become "more than friends," blah blah blah, but that's a long way off. Right now, I just need a conversation. All her responses are either quick, abbreviations, or criticism of my method of initiating conversation.

If this were anyone else, I would just say "fuck it" and give up at this point. But shes one of the funniest bitches I've had the pleasure to meet in a couple years. She's vulgar without going to excess, constantly smiling, and knows how to take what she wants. She's not just some friend. We've had good long conversations in the past, but now she's just distant. I can't blame her. I'd step away from me too.

Its not just her. My older friends havent said a damn thing this break aside from 2 responses to a group chat message from me. I need to get back in touch with a friend I sorta lost 6 years ago. I need to get bahn mi with 2 particular friends. All sorts of things to do, yet no inspiration on how to do them.

It's my fault, of course. I've finally found free time, so what do I do with it? I play video games. All day, every free moment, I'm playing tears of the kingdom or my latest roguelike obsession. I absolutely love them, I'm borderline addicted. Maybe I am. I do need to stop.

I could be using my time to write my stories, or poetry/songs, or c++, or even assembly code. I could be relearning calculus, working up courage to talk to friends, or even taking care of my hygiene. But I don't. And it needs to stop. But I can't make myself.

Games make me happy. But they are predictable up to a point, and I'm always searching for something new. Friends are hardly predictable. I need more friends. I need more friends who want to talk to me. The sad part is, I have to make them want me. All I want from people is to be wanted. Right now, not only do I see no evidence of people wanting me, I see evidence that people don't want me.

Thanks for finding me.

Thanks for staying.

[bylightofdawn]

So my mother stopped by and kidnapped me to 'return' a few things which turned into a multi-hour, multi-store trawl where yes, she did return a couple of items and then bought MORE shit. I mean, the walmart trip was fine, she needed dog food and then she needed new sheets for the new bed she hasn't even bought yet. And then we found out Tuesday Morning is closing down which is kinda lowkey sad because that was a part of my childhood. My grandma loved that place, so does my mom, so we went there and got more shit and then it was off to Kohls. Theoretically to pay off her Kohls card but more shopping happened. She and her husband got their tax returns. How the fuck do they get like 5K between the two of them on retirement/social security and I as a single person working 40 hours a week get like 500 bucks?

She made the fatal mistake of asking me to start ordering her some vans tennis shoes which they didn't have in her size as Kohl's that she wanted and then stopped halfway through because she has ADD so I ended up purchasing them as a mother's day gift which she doesn't know about. It won't get there in time but she legit stonewalled me when I asked her what she wanted for mother's day.

All this to say I didn't get home till after 8 and I've been trying to edit but I've only managed the first pass through. This chapter is definitely NOT getting posted today. Which, that's fine. I also ducked out and bought a couple of pork bahn mi for dinner and lunch tomorrow while she was at Kohls.

I really want to finish editing this chapter but NGL I am in a lot of pain and am struggling to keep my eyes open at this point. Fuck waking up at 8am. I did it for years but hell it's so hard to go back to waking up early. And 8 is the max, I don't know how people can wake up at 6am. My insane brother wakes up at like 4am or 5am. I don't know how he does it. Of course, he's a nutter who is working full time doing 12 hour days at the hospital, has a wife and kids AND is putting himself through his masters program so that crazy fuck is operating on 4 hours of sleep a night for the past four years. I don't know how he does it. It exhausts me just thinking about his lifestyle.

I really want to finish editing this chapter but NGL I am in a lot of pain and am struggling to keep my eyes open at this point. Fuck waking up at 8am. I did it for years but hell it's so hard to go back to waking up early. And 8am is the max for me, I don't know how people can wake up at 6am.

Yeah I think I'm just going to admit defeat and throw in the towel tonight, I'm getting nothing meaningful done here. Depending on what time I wake up tomorrow I might do a second run through before work or over lunch. Or if not, I'll just do it on Sunday. It's not like I have this firm promise of which day I will post stuff. And I hate to say it, but like other people, the lack of people really interacting with my work is a tiny bit demoralizing. Sure, I'll get some kudos but no one really seems to be commenting so it definitely feels a bit like I'm just putting my stuff out into the void.

Which, a big part of me feels like you should write fanfiction expecting praise or comments. But another part does appreciate, I guess, the acknowledgment or validation I'm not just writing for myself, if that makes sense? I dunno, it's a weird thing to try and put into words.

[starvels]

Eat anything fun in the city of Trawna?

bluebonnet of an anon, you sent this to me right before i left for a trip to calgary so thanks for you patience on my reply. jsyk, i have chuckled warmly so many times about this ask since then. it's simply :chefskiss: very Inhabitant of The 6 of you to say it like this and to ask after what i am eating. who are you, you delightful bee.

(& yes! i too, have learned to drop the last t.)

to answer your sweet question! also yes!! i am thriving in this cuisine heaven of toronto and these are some things i've had recently that i would really rec:

futura granita gelato: ONTARIO SWEET CORN GELATO. AKA, THE BEST FUCKING SEASONAL FLAVOR EVER. listen, if you are hesitant abt corn in ice cream, i am here to reassure you that you have NOTHING to fear. this ice cream is gorgeous in every way. i want to marry her. every bite is sumptuous, a burst of flavor, a scene out of ratatouille where remy describes the synesthesia of food. it will make you SEE. special mention to the nocciola Piemonte and Niagara strawberry granita

rustle and still: i am obsessed with their pandan latte. i go for iced, with soy and it's a great, punchy flavorful experience every single time. plus its visually so satisfying to see the pandan syrup and espresso layers separate before you mix them. all of their food options are home runs, as well. i've had their pastries, their viet meatballs and so many of their bahn mi and they are all...simply phenomenal. very hearty, spicy and great bang for buck.

maha's egyptian brunch: FOUR WORDS: HONEY FIG GRILLED CHEESE. it ! will ! blow ! your ! socks ! off ! sweet and savory. get with their lentil soup and a cardamom latte (they GRIND THE CARDAMOM IN W THE BEANS YEAH BUDDY) and melt into a uber comforted puddle of happiness. this family owned, meticulously warm and comforting brunch is a place that i both do want so many more people to go to but also i want to hoard the knowledge of it so i can always get a spot when i go kdsjnbkfb

and to toot my own horn unabashedly! here are some homemades i have had recently that have been v good indeed:

roasted tomato corn pie and peach butter cheesecake

veggie masala curry and miso furikake egg stirfry

thank you for this sweet ask! i really enjoyed it, as you can probably tell :')) any recs from you of good treats to snack-snag?

[aeirs-moved]

i miss working out i miss when i did choir i miss when i spent time by the lake i miss my jpn class. like getting so burnt out by working a job that i hated and then slipping into full hedonism mode of just getting high and watching anime and then having to come back to the cold reality of school life because guess what asshole you have to do history there now and the reality of knowing that i have to find a job and i have to work OR i have to get my shit under control enough to go to college next year. But im scared because i havent been to therapy in years and if iburn out again so much money will be on the line and even though i want to go to college especially because my experiences with pseo classes was so good but even moreso because If I want to do something i enjoy i have to go to college HAS been drilled into me so fucking hard and i think its true. i think i might want to be an art teacher one day... ANYWAY thats not the point. the point is i miss working out because it felt so good. maybe i just miss who i was when i was in choir and working out and spending time by the lake and studying jpn and going and eating bahn mi with thomas and the bright light of the stoplights by the cathedral at 830 after class and singing in the courtyard with my choirmates and watching dna before class to get pumped up. i miss him. but im scared to even be ANYTHING like him because i fucking KNEW Then that if my mental health went downhill it would all fall apart. and it did. and maybe its senior year and maybe its celexa fucking with my head but i cant connect that version of myself to me like it feels like seeing myself from years ago in a picture moreso than remembering something from less than a year ago. UM yeah sorry for writing so much its 1 am and i started thinking about working out again but then yeah. Sorry

[midnightartemis]

One Night, Last Night

Chapter One

Explicit- See AO3 For Full Warnings

Out of all the months of the year, Rey hated August the most. The lines to the food truck always grew exponentially longer, the truck’s AC was long past the point of heat and humidity that the old beast could handle, and Hux and Rose always got into screaming matches this late in the season.

At least the nights were cool. The Free Movie Series in the park always brought a crowd, so service was constant with only a few short pauses in orders. The movie played in the background while Rose chatted with customers and barked orders and all Rey had to do was prep and handoff. It was second nature to her after years of working at Cantina Pho Sho.

Spanish-Vietnamese Fusion. It’s surprisingly damn delicious and all thanks to a drunken college night with Rose and Poe. Three years later, it’s still going strong.

No thanks to the arseholes in the truck beside them.

Though Rey was pretty sure the rivalry between the Cantina truck and the First Order truck was what kept both of them in business. Over the years there had been a bet for who could get the most Instagram followers (Rose won). Then who could serve the most specials in one night (Hux). Then there was the daily race to the best spots downtown for the lunch and post-lunch rushes. Rey was extremely surprised one of them hadn’t crashed yet, especially after bearing witness to Rose’s driving over the years.

She wouldn’t give it up for anything. Even if she was sweating profusely and had already soaked through three towels. The rush had her slaving over the grill for a solid three hours non-stop, but it was slowing up now that the movie had started. They had already sold out of one of their specials- Spicy Seafood Paella with a side of spring rolls, topped with Rose’s homemade sweet and sour sauce. Fried deliciousness. The other special was more Americanized, just to piss off the First Order boys. It was a burger topped with their pickled Bánh mì veggies, swiss cheese, chilies, and cilantro.

It was inevitable that at some point either Hux or Ben would come stomping over to the truck and make wild accusations that they were stealing their business. Even though their line was just as long. Rey swore that it was just so that Hux would have the excuse to talk to Rose, but Rose swore it was so that Ben could talk to Rey.

Which was a ridiculous idea.

Ben had never shown anything but utter contempt for either of them. And it had become something of a game to her find the best ways to piss him off.

Hence the Bahn mi burger.

“Rey!”

Rey jolted out of her reverie at the sound of Rose’s voice. The short Vietnamese woman was perched on the box that let her see outside the window. She was wearing that expression that she always wore when Rey got distracted on the job.

It’s not her fault- Rey couldn’t help if cooking was like meditation to her.

“Yeah?”

Rose sighed, though there was a little smile on her face as if she knew exactly what, or who, Rey had been thinking about. “How many burgers left?”

Rey made quick stock of their dwindling supplies. “Only five. Push the spring rolls and the empanadas.”

They had a large menu in reality, but since they operated only out of the truck, the menu rotated weekly and Rose and Poe were always coming up with new ideas and trying out new recipes. They hadn’t expected to sell out tonight, which meant that she’d spend most of tomorrow gathering and preparing supplies. She wasn’t complaining one bit as long as Rose and Poe were the ones that handled the finances (She was decent at math, but accounting made her brain hurt).

Not twenty minutes later, they had sold off the last of their specials and Rose had struck them off of their chalkboard menu. Distantly, she could hear the opening credits of Mama Mia! Rey could only wonder how long ABBA would be stuck in her head.

Orders slowed to their horchata chè drink and churros as people moved from dinner to desserts. Rey wrapped up the last order before there was a pause in the line and had only just stripped her gloves and wiped her hands when there was a rapid banging on the back door.

“Hey!”  Bang, bang, bang. “Hey!”

Rey sighed and rolled her eyes at Rose, though they both had smirks on their faces. Rey stripped off her apron and towels. “I’ll handle him.”

“Oh, handle him?” Rose wriggled her brows suggestively and Rey threw her dirty towel at the woman. “Take a break while you’re at it.”

“Okay, mom.” Rey laughed and plucked a freshly fried churro from the pile of them. She jumped as there were three more bangs on the back door. She pushed it open quickly, forcing the man behind them to jump back.

Ben crossed his arms and scowled at the sight of her.

“What do you want?” Rey jumped down from the truck and closed the door behind her.

“What do you mean what do I want? I want you to stop stealing our food.” Ben stood a good foot taller than her. His long dark hair had been braided back in three rows to form a bun on top of his head. Rey had never been a fan of man buns, but…

“We are not stealing anything. Stealing would imply that you have something worth taking.”

Oh, that got him. It satisfied Rey to no end to watch Ben Solo get riled up. She’d never met anyone as intense about food as he was. She took a bite out of her churro and started moving to the back of their truck. It faced away from the crowd towards the park’s pond, which was fairly dark and isolated.

“At least we don’t ruin them with whatever shit you put on them.” Ben hissed as he followed her around the truck’s corner.

“At least we don’t give people heart attacks on purpose.”

“Heart attacks are the American way. You know it and that’s why you’re stealing our burgers.”

“Hmm… Did you sell out tonight?” Rey raised her brows.

“We would have if you weren’t stealing our business!”

“We aren’t stealing your- You know what you are?”

“What?”

“You’re a difficult man, that’s what. You don’t own burgers, you know that right?” Churro forgotten, Rey put her hands on her hips, trying to match the giant man before her. It wasn’t fair that on top of being tall he was also ridiculously fit. She knew just by looking at him that he could pick her up and pin her against- she was getting off-topic.

“I’m a difficult- I’m difficult? You’re difficult. Maybe I wouldn’t be so “difficult” if you weren’t always taking our customers and stealing our food.”

“Oh my god, seriously? Are you mental? Are you really telling me that you think that someone who wanted bacon and eggs and cheese with a side of heart attack on their slab of frozen cow meat you dare call a burger would be so easily swayed from the dark side to have a gourmet burger with pickled veggies?”

“Our meat is fresh and you know it.”

“Fresh from where? McDonald’s?”

Ben’s jaw dropped. He looked almost as if Rey had just slapped him in the face or kicked his puppy. “Are you calling my burgers flat?”

“No, just wondering why you’re trying to murder your regulars.”

Ben looked capable of murder at that moment. The tips of his ears had gone beet red, his lips were pressed into a tight line and there was something dangerous in his eyes. So why the fuck did that completely turn her on?

“At least I don’t give my regulars food poisoning.”

“That was one time with a new cook and you fucking know it.” Rey stepped forward to jab her finger in his chest. “Maybe the reason everyone comes to our truck is because we’re not a bunch of arseholes.”

He huffed a laugh at that as he looked down at her. Gods he was so tall. Her heart raced when she realized how close together they were standing. He was close enough she could reach out and touch those muscular arms or run her fingers through his dark hair to pull out that ridiculous bun.

“You know what I think?”

Her heart stopped at the low rumble in his voice. She could feel herself getting wet and hated it. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips with only made his eyes drop to them and everything worse. He looked back up at her with that stupid smirk on his face and Rey snarled. “What?”

“I think you like this.”

“If you think I like anything to do with you you’re sorely mistaken.” Lies. Big bloody lies.

His eyes dipped down to her lips as he stepped forward, forcing Rey to take a step back. “I think you sit around all day coming up with ways to piss me off. Just so you can see me.”

Another step forward. Another step back. Rey’s heart was beating so hard she could swear it was leaping out of her chest. He was close enough she could smell him- sweat and charcoal and fire and something heady, musty.

“You know I can take whatever I want.” His eyes flicked up to meet hers, dark and dilated. She’d forgotten how to speak.

Her back hit the truck jarring her enough to remember to be angry. “Fuck. You.”

He grinned and slowly leaned into her, bracing his hands on either side of her head. She was frozen beneath him, refusing to look at his bloody kissable lips. Refusing to acknowledge the heat between her thighs and the want in her gut. He held her eyes for a moment, heavy and hooded. He seemed to be trying to make a decision as he searched her face. He leaned in closer and her breath hitched, shaking at his nearing. His lips brushed against her cheek. “If I’m right…. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“And if you’re wrong?” She wasn’t sure how she found the words. Her voice shook as she said them.

Ben pulled back and grinned. His eyes slowly caressed over her lips to her eyes. “I’m not wrong, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that.” Rey pushed away from the truck and slipped out under his arm. He let her go, but she could feel him watching. Legs shaking, Rey broke into a half run towards the park bathrooms after she rounded the corner.

Fuck him.

That arsehole.

That complete pretentious prick.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

Who the fuck-

Rey ran cold water over her wrists and splashed her face. When she looked in the mirror all she saw was frizzy, greasy, sweaty hair peeking out from under her green bandanna, red hot cheeks, and sweaty skin. She sniffed her armpits and gagged. At least she had taken the time to shave yesterday.

At least?!?

No.

She was not going to meet him after work. She was not going to give that arsehole the time of the fucking day, no matter how good he smelled. No matter how wet just his voice made her. No matter that she had fantasized about those hands for months.

Fucker.

Rey dried her face off and left the bathroom. There was no line that she could see in front of her truck, so she took her time walking back, pausing to watch Donna, Rosie, and Tanya reunite. It had been years since she watched Mamma Mia.

Eventually hurried past the First Order trunk and jumped back into the back of Cantina Pho Sho food truck.

Rose looked utterly bored at the counter. “What’d he say?”

Rey froze before remembering that she wasn’t talking about Ben’s proposition. “He was pissed about the burger.” Rey rolled her eyes and tried to wave away any suspicion. “He literally said we were stealing his food.”

Rose snorted. “You can’t steal a burger.”

“That’s what I said! He’s such an arse.”

“He’s got a nice arse.” Rose winked. “They both do.”

“I can’t believe you think Hux is hot.” Rey grabbed her inventory sheets as she tried to steer the conversation away from Ben. If Rose ever found out what had actually happened behind the truck, the woman would never let it go.

“It’s just… something about gingers.” Rose stared wistfully out the window. “I could climb him like a tree.”

With Rose off in La La Land thinking about Hux, Rey settled into taking stock of all the items she’d need to get tomorrow.

The rest of the night went slowly with only a few people coming up during the movie to drinks or dessert. They usually left a little half-way through the movie to beat the crowds leaving. After fifteen minutes of no new customers, Rose shut the ordering windows and helped Rey pack up.

She wasn’t going to meet him.

She wasn’t.

She was going to walk straight to her car.

Rey closed up the back door of the truck and waved Rose off.

She knew Ben drove. She had seen him drive in. The First Order truck had already taken off.

She walked towards the park's parking lot and spied him instantly. It wasn’t hard to spot him leaning against his old Chevy impala, arms crossed, with a scowl on his face. He was looking over at the large movie screen, not at her. She could still make it to her car and take off.

So why did her feet turn towards him? Rey scowled at herself and cursed her vagina brain. Just because it wanted to get dicked down so bad, didn’t mean that she wanted to.

Okay. She wanted to.

Just not with the arsehole who would hold it over her head for as long as he could. No matter how much chemistry they may or may not have. No matter that it was always him in her fantasies.

Rey groaned inwardly as she walked through the parking lot towards him. His eyes were still on the movie. She could still turn around. She smelled. She’d have to somehow get from wherever he lived back to her car. And there’d be a walk of shame. Rose would wonder where she was when she’d got back to their apartment and Rey wasn’t there already. If she thought Ben would never let it go, Rose would never ever let it go.

Rey sighed and Ben finally looked away from the movie to see her standing at his car. His lips parted as confusion swept quickly over his features. He hadn’t expected her to actually show up.

To be fair, Rey hadn’t expected it either.

She kept her scowl on her face and walked to his passenger side door. He scrambled to unlock the car and it took everything in her to not smile at the little heart attack she had given him. So she wasn’t the only one affected. Good to know.

Rey climbed into the passenger seat and Ben into the driver's. He looked over at her like he couldn’t believe she was really there. Rey stared ahead. “Not a word.”

That seemed to snap him back to the arsehole she knew. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

This was the part she hated. The awkward part of going to the apartment. The weird limbo phase where no one knew what to say but knew exactly what was going to happen. Granted, she hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a while. The last time had been a disaster, just like her last relationship had been a disaster.

Luckily his condo wasn’t far from the park, but it was in a nice area. New developments and little boutiques and coffee shops.  It was a far cry from her and Rose’s slightly shitty, slightly sketchy apartment complex near downtown.

Not just an asshole but a wealthy asshole at that. How the hell did he afford this place working at a food truck? She and Rose did well, but they still barely made enough to get through the slow winter months.

Ben hadn’t said a word since they started driving, but he kept glancing over at her like she wouldn’t notice. Part of her wondered if this was a horrible idea. The other part was looking at his grip on the steering wheel.

They turned into underground parking and Ben parked in the assigned parking spot closest to the elevator because of course, he had that. The car engine turned off and neither of them moved.

Ben looked over at her and she at him and the first thing out of her mouth was, “Can I use your shower?”

Ben gave her a strange look.

“I just- I’ve been sweating all day and I smell like a donkey’s arse. Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you’re any better, but at least I don’t smell like a big mac.”

“At least I don’t smell like pickled cabbage.” Ben grinned. “You can use my shower if you tell me I was right.”

Oh, fuck off.

Rey stared him down trying to find the guts to admit it, but not wanting to give the arsehole the satisfaction. She bit her lip as she tried to figure a way out of it, watching as Ben’s eyes dipped to her lips as she did. She scoffed. “You’re one to make ultimatums. I think you like that I piss you off.”

A grin curled at his lips and Rey felt his satisfaction in her core. His eyes traveled slowly down her body then back up again. “I like the challenge. Now say it.”

Fuck.

Rey’s breath caught and the smirk he gave her at that only pissed her off more. She turned away from him, crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant, angry child, and grumbled, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Ben turned away and pulled the keys from the ignition. “You can shower, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“And after you shower I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging for me to fuck you.”

He said it so casually that Rey almost couldn’t process it. He unfolded himself from the driver’s seat. Rey stayed frozen in hers until the door slammed shut and jolted her out of her shock. She stepped out of the car, surprised that her legs were still stable enough to follow him to the elevator.

She was really doing this.

Fuck.

She really was.

Ben pressed the button for the top floor with a shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying this. The fucker. He raised a brow as he looked down at her and saw her glaring.“Is there a problem, princess?”

“No.” She said it a little too quickly, her face reddening.

The elevator doors slid open and Ben led her down the hall to an end unit. The door opened with a small fob on his keychain and Rey tried not to roll her eyes at how incredibly extra it was.

The door swung open and Ben turned on the lights as he stepped in. Rey followed, her mouth dropping as she took in the apartment. It looked like something out of a magazine. Two walls of windows looked out over the shopping and recreation area. There was a massive TV and a leather sectional couch in the giant living area. But the real jewel was the giant kitchen and a stove with one of those water taps over the stove for filling pots. Excessive and unnecessary and miles away from the tiny galley kitchen that she and Rose shared. Everything was dark and natural-toned in blues and blacks and dark browns and charcoal grey.

There was a small whine from the corner and Rey looked over to see a rather large blanket-covered kennel.

“Oh, that’s Kylo. He’s not great with strangers.” Ben had that little lost look on his face again. “I’m just going to take him out to the park for a bit. Ah… the shower is down the hall to the left.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

Ben ran a hand over his braids as they stood awkwardly together. “Rey-”

“I should go shower. I’ll go do that now.” She took a step towards the hall. Something in his voice terrified her. The way he said her name… It wasn’t like when he called her ‘sweetheart’ or ‘princess’. It was all too real.

“Wait.” Ben reached for her and caught her hand, stalling her. Rey stared down at the place where their hands connected. She’d never touched him before. He waited until she was looking back up at him to continue. “We don’t have to do anything. I can take you back to your car or call you a cab or call Rose. If that’s what you want, at any time, just say the word and it will be done.”

He said it so earnestly that words were knocked out of her. In all of her flings and relationships, no one had ever said that to her. Rey nodded and Ben let go of her hand.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Remember what I said.”

The dark, dangerous look in his eye had returned. It took everything in her body not to flee to the bathroom. She shut and locked the door behind her, breathing hard as she took in the bathroom that was, no surprise, just as bougie as the rest of the condo. Marble tile flowed into a walk-in shower. There was a giant tub big enough for two people overlooking a window. The only signs of life she had seen so far in his place were the grooming products on the double vanity and the bottles of product in the shower. Rey stripped quickly and turned on the shower, waiting only a few seconds for the water to reach scalding temperatures and jumping in. Gods, the water pressure was amazing, too.

She soaked under the rain head for a while, letting the water take away the stress of the day and attempt to relax the knots in her shoulders. Surprisingly, the shower was full of products. There wasn’t a 4-in-1 bottle to be seen anywhere. She had never even heard of or seen most of the brands, so it took a while for her to find body wash and shampoo and conditioner. All three smelled like heaven. Like she was soaking in him.

And after you shower I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging for me to fuck you.

Rey gasped and dropped the conditioner bottle with a curse. She picked it up and put it back. Curiously she reached between her thighs and gaped at the slippery wetness she found there. She cleaned the area thoroughly with water and a little bit of unscented soap she had discovered. Each touch sent a jolt through her system as she pictured him between her thighs. The touch of his hands against her skin. Sheer torture.

And he was waiting for her right outside.

Rey shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She found a cabinet full of huge, fluffy, white towels and wrapped one around herself, and used another to towel dry her hair. Her sad pile of clothes sat on the counter, but the last thing she wanted to do was put her grease-stained t-shirt and sweaty jean shorts back on. Could she just walk out there with the towel on? It might help speed things up. Cut to the chase, as Rose liked to say.

Fuck, Rose.

Rey found her phone in her pile of clothes and sent off a quick text with a little white lie about Kaydel and drinks and not to wait up. She was definitely going to hell for this one.

Nerves curled in her stomach to make a nest there and Rey took a deep breath. If he wasn’t back, she could sneak into his room and grab one of his t-shirts or something. And if he was back, the towel would do. It wasn’t like she was going to hide anything from him tonight.  

Rey left her clothes in the bathroom and stepped out into the hall. Her heart raced as a rustle in the kitchen told Rey that Ben was back already. His back was turned to her as she appeared. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand and was looking through a liquor cabinet with the other. “Do you want a drink?”

She didn’t want a drink, she decided. She wanted him to make due on his promise. She wanted to be fucked six ways to Sunday. Rey let her towel fall to the floor.

Ben turned at the sound to see her. “Fuck.”

“That’s the idea.” She quipped. “I seem to remember you making a promise earlier.”  

He downed the glass in one sip and set the glass on the counter. A cheeky smirk tugged at the corner of his full lips. His eyes unabashedly roamed over her skin and Rey fought against the urge to cover herself from his unadulterated gaze. “I did, didn’t I. Come here.”

She rolled her eyes at his command but stepped forward gingerly. The apartment’s AC chilled her skin as she moved and forced her nipples into hard points. “Are you always this demanding?”

Ben chuckled and the deep sound went straight to her cunt. All the wetness she had wiped away in the shower was back in full force. “You don’t know the half of it, sweetheart.”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching as she slowly stepped closer. His intense gaze was taking every inch of her in. She looked away when it became too much for her, snapping, “Are we going to do this, or are you just going to stand there like an arse and-”

Ben’s lips crashed into hers, taking Rey by surprise. She was in his hands in seconds as he pushed her back against the kitchen island. His lips were warm and soft and salty and demanding against her own. When her brain finally kicked into gear, she kissed him back, letting him in when his tongue demanded entrance. His hands pulled her flush against him and wound through her hair to tip her head back.

He pulled away, leaving her gasping. “You drive me so fucking insane.”

Lips and teeth attacked her neck, leaving her breathless and unable to answer with anything except the little moans that escaped her lips. His fingers brushed against her nipple and she whimpered beneath him. She let her hands roam over his back and sides, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. He was still completely dressed and she was completely naked and it wasn’t fair. Rey tugged at his shirt and he broke away from her with a smile.

“For someone who thinks I’m an asshole, you’re sure eager.”

Rey scowled. “Will you just shut up and fuck me.”

“Ask nicely and I might.”

Rey pressed her lips together, but Ben only grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll get it out of you eventually. I’m a patient man.”

He had her trapped between the counter and himself. Every time she took in a breath, her chest rose to touch him. She pressed her thighs together, trying to gain some sort of relief from the growing pressure between her legs. Ben leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear and sending a shiver down her spine. “Have you ever sat on someone’s face?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She was so fucked. Rey shook her head.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

She was trembling beneath his touch. Her whole body was on fire and drawn like a magnet into him. “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yes, please.”

Ben nibbled at her ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Good girl.”

Rey whimpered as his words went straight to her core.

He stepped away from her and Rey felt the loss of his body immediately. He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen and down the hall to the door on the right. She didn’t get to see much of his bedroom before he was pulling her back to him, his mouth devouring her hungrily as he took complete control of the situation and she handed it to him willingly.

This man. This man could do whatever he wanted to her. Gods, it had been so long since someone touched her. She couldn’t remember anyone ever touching her like this.

Two massive hands scooped under her thighs and suddenly she was in the air. Rey clung onto him, exploring his mouth with her tongue as he crossed the room and carried her into bed. He tossed her gently down and his mouth moved over her neck to her breasts to her stomach to-

Rey gasped as he knelt at the edge of the bed and pulled her swiftly towards him. His hot tongue traced lines against her thighs. Ben’s eyes locked with hers as he leaned forward and licked a soft line over her clit. Rey gasped loudly and let her head fall back as Ben buried his face between her legs. He was a quick learner and Rey wasn’t bashful about her wanton moans. A thick finger prodded at her entrance and Rey arched to accept it. A jolt raced through her body as Ben’s finger slowly moved inside her, hooking to gently caress over her G spot. His pace was bordering on torturous, but she was so close.

Rey came with a cry and Ben followed her through it. He pulled off of her with an embarrassingly wet pop. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet for me. You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart. Such a good girl, coming for me.”

Rey whimpered as Ben buried his face into her again, licking and sucking at her clit until she was coming again. He came up to meet her this time, his mouth still wet with her and a soft smile on his face. He kissed her and she tasted herself on her lips and an aftershock exploded across her skin. He pressed his hips between her legs. She could feel him through his jeans, realizing with a moan that he was massive. His hips twitched, pressing his length harder against her. “Do you have something to say, sweetheart?”

Rey whimpered as he slowly ground against her with just enough friction to drive her insane. “Just fuck me.”

Ben chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s not quite what I’m looking for. Let’s try again. On your knees, grab the headboard.”

Rey raised her brow at his command.

“Now, Rey.” With a huff, she flipped over and crawled up the massive king-sized bed to grip the headboard. “Keep your eyes forward.”

Rey stared at the wall in front of her, trying to ignore how much her thighs were shaking from coming twice. She’d never done that before with someone. Her breath caught as she heard a zipper and the sound of clothes coming off. Part of her wanted to turn around to catch a glimpse, but there was another part of her, one she hadn’t really known that she had, that wanted to obey. That wanted him to call her a good girl again.

Rey took a deep steadying breath as the bed sank behind her with Ben’s weight. He moved closer and it took everything in her not to look back in curiosity. Her questions were answered when she felt him slowly shimmy between her thighs. Wordlessly, he gripped her thighs with massive hands and brought her down onto his face. Rey moaned at the new angle and control, She was scared for a moment until Ben pulled her down further to bury himself in her. A hand fell to his hair and her fingers tangled in his braids, pulling them loose as she rode him.

She came with a loud moan, her thighs quivering and struggling to stay up. But when she tried to pull away, Ben’s hands locked around her thighs. He didn’t let go until she was cumming again. He let go and Rey collapsed into the bed. Her thighs were unable to support her any longer. She was half in it, half in a daze as her cunt clenched around nothing. She wanted nothing more than to feel him in her. To take what he wanted from her. “Please.”

Ben appeared at the edges of her vision, blurry and ethereal. His hands gently moved her until he was hovering over top of her. A grin on his face. His bare chest was right there and Rey reached out to drag her fingers over it. He shuddered under her touch before catching her hands and bringing them to his lips. She watched in fascination as he sucked two of her fingers into his mouth. His beautiful, perfect, amazing, fuckable mouth. He released them with a pop. “Please, what, princess?”

Rey whined and arched beneath him, not wanting to say the words aloud. Frustrated that he had not had her yet.

“Use your words. What do you want?”

Gods, he was such an asshole. Rey groaned. His hand snuck between her thighs and swirled around her clit, causing another oversensitive shockwave to pass through her. “What do you want, Princess?”

He took one of her breasts in his mouth and sucked gently, rolling the nipple with her tongue. It was a slow, torturous movement. He wouldn't give in, not until she gave him what he wanted.

“Please… please, fuck me, Ben.” Rey arched beneath him, trying to pull him into her and find some relief. Ben cursed softly.

“You’re so perfect. So wet.” Ben sat back on his haunches and Rey got her first full view of him in the soft golden light of the room. His hair was utterly debauched by her fingertips. Black and wavy and messy and falling gently over his eyes. He ran his hands through it as he looked down at her with hungry eyes. Rey drank in his broad chest and the light flex of his abs down to- fuck. Rey’s eyes widened. Ben caught her surprise and grinned like the cocky asshole he was. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll make it fit, I know you will.”

She hated him. She really did. Of course, she would. Of course, she would do anything to hear his gravelly praise that had her soaking his sheets.

Ben chuckled darkly as Rey rolled her eyes. He leaned over to pull a condom from his bedside table. In seconds he had it over his length and he was on her again nibbling and sucking over her collar bone, two fingers gently spreading her apart. She was so wet and warm and ready for him that she barely felt one finger, then two, stretching her. Rey whimpered under his slow and methodical touch. “Please. Please, d-”

Ben pulled away and Rey cursed her stupid brain. A slow grin spread across his lips. “What was that, sweetheart?”

Rey looked away, embarrassment creeping in. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” An eyebrow raise, a crook of his fingers, a thumb grazing over her sensitive clit. Rey gasped as a wave of pain and pleasure rolled through her.

“Stop playing with me, please. Please fuck me. Please.” She was reduced to this, completely under his control but still fighting against it. She clawed at his skin, trying to pull him into her.

“Say it, princess.”

The finger on her clit sped up, making it nearly impossible to speak as her body tensed and chased a deep, rolling orgasm. It hit her like a freight train and her body tried to pull away from his fingers. He held on to her, finger fucking her through it.

“Please! Please, daddy.” Was she crying? She might be crying.

“Fuck.” Ben gasped and paused, taking a deep breath. His fingers slid from her and Rey gave a choking gasp. Her body had turned to jelly under his hands and tongue. His hands brushed away her hair from her face and Rey whimpered. “If you want me to stop, say red, okay sweetheart?”

Rey shook her head ‘no’. “M-mmm. Don’t stop.”

He was a hazy golden figure over her. His smile was enough to send shivers through her. “I’m going to fuck you now, princess. You’re going to take me so well. So warm and wet and ready for me.”

His head pressed against her entrance and slowly pushed in. His groan matched her own as Rey sank her nails into his back. Utter bliss washed over her as he lowered himself over her, slowly pressing in and stretching.

“So good. Such a good girl. Taking me so well.”

He was ruining her for anyone else. She would never be able to let go after this.

Ben bottomed out in her with a grunt. She squirmed beneath him, so full. So complete. If he didn’t start moving soon she was going to scream. She couldn’t hear herself anymore, only a steady roar in her ears and his words and moans echoing over her. Her lips moved and babbled and cursed until they found purchase against the soft skin of his neck.

He pulled out of her and sank back in and Rey cried out, already halfway to another orgasm. His slow pace steadily increased. His breath whispered sweet affirmations in her ear as she trembled and came beneath him. He pulled her close to him, his face buried in her neck as his hips snapped into her building to a brutal pace. She came again as his hips stuttered and he came with her.

He trailed gentle kisses over her skin as he pulled out of her. He left her, stepping out of the bed and tossing the used condom in the trash. Rey whimpered at the sudden loss of contact. Ben brushed the hair from her face. “I'll be back in a second, sweetheart.”

He left the room and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and sadness crashed over her. By the time he came back she was curled up in his sheets, crying.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Ben set something down on the nightstand and took her in his warm hands. “Is something wrong?”

Rey shook her head.

“Just a lot?”

She nodded frantically.

It was exactly what she needed. A huge release that she was coming down from. Ben wiped the tears gently from her eyes and pressed a kiss to her temple. “It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. Here, let me help you up. Drink some water.”

She let him help her sit up and took the water from him. The cool liquid brought here back closer to reality. Ben’s fingers drew soft circles against her thighs. He reached for a cloth and pressed it against her thighs gently cleaning her with the warm damp cloth. She watched him over the rim of her glass as he took care of her. Her own feelings were a jumbled compliant mess as she tried to merge the asshole she knew and the man before her into one. Sleep was slowly about to take over her. She’d never stayed the night before. She had never wanted to.

She almost felt high from his touch.

Ben set the cloth to the side and came back with a handful of hard pretzels. Rey giggled as he pressed one to her lips before opening her mouth and taking it from him.

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

Ben grinned softly. “Taking care of you.”

“No one's ever done this before.”

Ben pressed another pretzel to her lips and she took it dutifully. “They should.”

Something foreign and terrifying flipped in her chest. Rey swallowed it down and looked away from him. “I should use the restroom.”

Ben nodded and let her get out of bed. She made her way to the bathroom on shaky legs, peed, and looked at her clothes on the counter. Should she stay? She was falling asleep as she peed.

She should go.

Rey grabbed her clothes and waddled back to the bedroom.

Fuck him. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

Ben stood from the bed when she came back. He’d thrown on boxers and was checking through his phone. He looked up with that cheeky grin on his face. “My turn.”

He kissed her as he passed her. A moment later, she heard the shower water start. Rey set her clothes on the bed and popped a pretzel in her mouth. She found one of Ben’s black t-shirts in the closet and pulled it on. She felt like she was floating still. Maybe that’s why she laid down in the bed and curled up in his sheets. She would just close her eyes for a minute. Just a minute.

Just one minute.

Chapters 1-10 Up Now on AO3!

[tamersmile888]

Not So Berry Challenge Candie Edition: Rose Play 9

Now that Cheri's growing up, it's time to start thinking about her future. Which includes moving out on her own. Of course, Pepper isn't ready for her to leave home so soon, but she would never hold her back from becoming the amazing young woman she's meant to be.

Since the flee market is in town, Cheri asks for a few bucks to get her started on furniture shopping. Better to be prepared than waiting until the last minute. Even though Pepper and Uriah wish time would slow down so they can cherish these last few days before their firstborn daughter moves out, they're happy to help in any way she needs them.  

Cheri, Raz, Apple, and Chili arrive in the city for a fun family outing. And mostly so they can help Cheri pick out some cute stuff for her soon-to-be apartment right here in San Myshuno.

As she takes in the bustle of the city and scouts for her potential new home, Chili taps her saying her boyfriend is here. Cheri's heart flips when she sees Filip talking with some friends. So maybe she's developed a little crush on him. Can anyone blame her? He's gorgeous. But he's also a college freshman...And even though she graduates in a couple of days, as of right now, he's completely off limits.

Anyway, she didn't come here seeking love. She came for the good deals. And if she doesn't get a move on it, all the good stuff will be gone.

This chair is screaming to be placed her presidential office. The fact that it's red only confirms that it was brought there just for her. It's a little pricey, but she'll at least have somewhere to sit in her new apartment.

While Raz, Apple, and Chili split off to play basketball, Cheri grabs something to eat. The food smells so good, but its so hard to choose with so many options. Being in the city means being introduced to different cultures and flavors. As a hopeful native, she wants to one day try them all, but today she decides on a Vietnamese dish called Bahn Mi. 

Waiting for her food, she meets Rarahu who says she loves coming to the city to enjoy the tastes it offers. Nothing like street food.

As they're chatting about trying different street food recipes at home, Filip joins them at the stand, acknowledging Cheri with that endearing smile and a hey before ordering his food. Cheri smiles back, ready to bombard him with questions. What is he doing here? How often does he come into the city? Does he have a girlfriend.

She doesn't realize her order is ready until some guy comes up out of nowhere and steals it. She calls out to him, but whatever music he's listening to is too loud for him to hear her. And then he starts eating her food! She takes a long deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She's been successfully working on her anger issues, considering the consequences of her actions. Is it really worth looking crazy for a sandwich? Probably not. But seriously? Who does that?

Filip turns around asking her what's going on. Cheri tells him that this guy stole her food that she paid for. Why would he pick up something he didn't even order? The guy just walks away, oblivious, enjoying the food that was supposed to hers.

Filip tells her not to worry about. He'll buy her a new one. She tells him he doesn't have to do that. He says, he comes here a lot. He knows a few tricks.

He says, excuse me, to get the vendors attention, and explains the whole robbery situation. He tells the vendor he buys from there all the time, knows it's a good business. How about he lower the price to make up for the loss? The vendor apologizes for what happened and gives Filip a twenty-five percent discount on a new, unbitten, Banh Mi. Filip hands it to Cheri like a gentleman and says, there you go. Enjoy.

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[lianneoelke]

The Vancouver Island & Sunshine Coast Loop: A Solo Cycle Tour of BC’s Finest Retirement Communities. Part 2

Day 4: I hit the road at 7am. A quick ride on the Trans Canada woke me up and brought me to my daily bakery stop.

Serious Coffee for Serious Cyclists.

After second breakfast, I only had to follow one road: the 19A. With wide shoulders and no navigation required, I made good time up the coast. It would have been top notch riding if it wasn’t for the EXCESSIVE WIND that blew all day for NO REASON AT ALL. 

The best views were at Union Bay, where I slowed down a little too much until I realized the ferry I wanted to catch was coming up soon. I gunned it the last 25km to Comox, which was, shockingly, FULL OF HILLS. I gave up on my granny gear zen and let my rage carry me to the ferry terminal, where I caught the 3:25 just in time. The wind refused to chill out so I sat inside and charged my phone while I watched the white caps dance on the ocean.

Once I landed in Powell River it was only a few minutes to the campsite. After 113km my legs once again felt perfectly normal, which was weird. Sitting on a bike saddle, however, was deeply uncomfortable. I decided to walk the 3km to Townsite Brewing, stopping to gorge on veggie korma and stuffed potato naan on the way. 

I didn’t have room for another beer but I drank it anyway because I had biked HUNDREDS OF KILOMETERS to get there. 

I met this beautiful cat on the way back to the campsite, where I quickly fell asleep.

Day 5 began with gear sorting. It seemed like a lot.

I was a bit apprehensive about biking on the Sunshine Coast as I heard it was even hillier than Vancouver Island, but if the family camping next to me could bike to Lund from Powell River with a trailer and a young kid, there's no reason Gavin and I couldn't. The hills were very present, but still doable. I only had 27km to go, and I would have enjoyed the long decent into Lund if I knew I wouldn't have to climb back up eventually.

Lund was a tiny, bustling hub. I was surprised at the size of the grocery and liquor store (also surprised there was a liquor store at all). The store didn’t have much fresh produce, but I can live off beans, chips, and hot dogs for DAYS, thank you very much. Next I headed to Nancy's Bakery for a couple sandos and one of their famous blackberry cinnamon buns (which I'd been thinking about since the last time I was there, two years ago). I found a patio spot next to an outlet and gave my phone one last top up, because I couldn’t count on charging anything on Savary Island. With a couple hours before my water taxi reservation, I found myself on my own with nothing to do, which hadn't happened yet on the trip. I decided to call my parents and tell them what I was doing. I promised my mom I’d write a blog post so I could share some photos (hi, mom!). It was bizzy on Savary Island: rubbermaids, bags, boxes of booze, bikes, and a line of trucks lined up the dock. The people quickly dispersed into various homes, cabins, guest houses, resorts, and moss covered trailers. I went up the hill (no matter where I went, it was up a hill) to the campground: a loose scattering of wooden tent pads on some guy’s property. The owner told me “There is no check in. You just find a site that looks good and settle in.” Cool.

Of course the only rain I saw on the trip happened as soon as I arrived at a sub-tropical island. I expected to have a nap ASAP, but instead opted for a cold shower and laundry in the sink. I couldn’t fully clean my smelly bike shorts with Camp Suds; I could only make them slightly less smelly. 

Savary is a long, skinny island filled with lush rainforest and edged with white sandy beaches. After a comfortable and pitch black night, I was up at a decent hour. Day 6 was my rest day, which meant biking without all my gear. My legs felt overqualified for the 8km rip across the island and back. 

It was Gavin’s rest day, too. 

After a big brunch scramble and a hot dog, I headed to the beach, which was just as sunny and glorious as I imagined. I took a dip in the ocean, read, ate a bag of chips and a hot dog. When I ran out of food I went back to my camp and made an underwhelming dinner of overcooked veggies and terrible instant mashed potatoes with a hot dog. 

One of the best books I’ve read in a long time. It’s about a girl growing up in a survivalist, ultra conservative, and unsafe family fighting for education, despite never setting foot in a classroom until the age of 17. I left my copy at a community library on Savary. Feel free to go get it. On day 7 I caught the morning water taxi back to Lund, then made one more stop at Nancy's before tackling the 3km uphill. It was overcast and muggy. Sweaty and grimy. The ride to Powell River was quick though, and I treated myself to a Buddha bowl and cold beer for lunch. 

It was another 27km to Saltery Bay...

... which was an exceptionally beautiful provincial park.

Of course the campground attendant came to collect fees while I was in the middle of washing myself from a pot.

I felt resourceful that day. Like I belonged out there. It was the little things, like seeing the cycle route sign even though I didn’t see any other cyclists, collecting large rocks to hold my tent down because the ground was too hard for stakes, or improvising a bear hang because the campground didn’t have a bear proof locker for cyclists (get it together, Saltery). Part of me still feels like the kid who spends all her time reading, watching LOTR EE marathons, and making pizza at Panago for $6 an hour. I never grew up thinking of myself as athletic or woodsy, and compared to many people I'm not, but it's about time I realize I can do this on my own. And that I love it.

Day 8 began with a serene ferry ride to Earl's Cove. Out of the entire trip, I was the most nervous about the upcoming ride from Earl's to Sechelt. I knew it would be windy, narrow, and steep, and I didn’t want to end up schmucked on the side of the 101 because some yahoo hauling a yacht, four kayaks, and a dozen mountain bikes couldn't be bothered to slow down on a blind corner. But at this point I had 500km of experience, a bag of Sour Cherry Blasters, and my screaming pink cycling jersey to get through the day safely. It was relatively quiet early Wednesday morning, and the beautiful ride turned out to be one of my favourite sections.

I took a detour on Redrooffs Road after Half Moon Bay to get off the highway for a bit. It was scenic enough, but the elevation was stupid. I hadn’t walked Gavin up that many hills since Thetis Lake Regional Park. Things started to go downhill from there. Metaphorically of course, as the hills only went up. 

Traffic volume started to increase at Sechelt, where I stopped for candy. The Cherry Blasters picked me right up, but not even a sugar rush can hold off eight days of fatigue indefinitely. The last few kilometers to Gibsons weren't exactly painful, but they were not pleasant. My faith in Google Maps’ elevation estimates might never recover. My bike chain was dry and squeaking, but I thought if I could just make it to my destination and offload my gear I could zip back into town and find a bike shop and get some lubricant. In reality, once I finally arrived at Mike's place, after 83km and over 1400m of elevation gain, I couldn't bring myself to take the hill down into Gibsons again. "Can olive oil work on bike chains" is not my proudest Google search, but weary, smelly, and perpetually damp cyclists are nothing if not humble. And the answer is no, not really, but olive oil is better than nothing.

Thankfully Persephone Brewing was within walking distance. My healing began with an order of spring rolls and a rye farmhouse ale.

That evening, as I settled in to my tent, I heard the soft whisper of my couch back at home. The call of the bahn mis at Chickpea that Brian said were amazing. The whinny of my stupidly sensitive horse on Red Dead Redemption 2 Online. The sweet yet powerful purr of Alley Cat, my gentle golden nugget. I was a two hour ride away from completing the biggest physical achievement of my life. A year ago running 5k was a stretch, and biking 11km to Richmond was a chore. I wanted to do an ambitious cycle tour to see if I could. And I can. There’s nothing particularly special about me, or most people, but that doesn’t have to stop us from getting shit done. 

Day 9 was a quick ride down to the ferry, then a hilly ride through West Van on Marine Drive. Once I hit the Lions Gate Bridge, I knew I was home free.

Coming home after 9 days and 590km of a door-to-door solo cycle tour was incredibly satisfying.

Almost as satisfying as seeing my number one precious sweet potato again! 

This sweet pup is my number two. 

Maybe one day I’ll do a proper Google Maps route but this is the general idea.

Highlight(s): the views on Salt Spring, Sokka’s beautiful kitten face, the ride up from Nanaimo, the white sandy beaches at Savary, the peaceful ferry ride from Saltery, the surprisingly doable hills after Earl's Cove, the pics of my niece and nephew smiling on their first day back at school, the beers and food at Persephone, the moment I realized that I absolutely crushed every part of my ambitious plan. Lowlight: Thetis Lake Regional Park. Gold star: Gavin. This humble, unassuming, steel frame hybrid has been a true star, solid and dependable. I love this bike. I love what we can do together. Runner up: The weather. Almost perfect. Runner up: My legs. You know what you did.

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 3 TRANSCRIPT

-opening music-

LORRIE

Alright- [soft movement sounds] recording time. Reeecording time. One, two, three. [flip through the book, door opens]

Ah- fuck-

FISH

Oh! Shit- sorry- were you in the middle of something? Uh...sorry. I made lunch. Bahn mi! Y’know, the one I begged my brother for the recipe of? Uh- do you want some? I mean, I can’t guarantee it’s gonna be great ‘cause...it’s me...but it is getting cold! So...

LORRIE

I was just about to start recording, but lunch sounds...awesome, actually! But before we go, do you want to introduce yourself to the mic? I decided I wanted to keep the extra recordings and stuff, just for… me, I guess? Like- kinda like a journal. [brief pause]

My therapist did recommend I start journaling, but writing out my thoughts is hard as fuck. Talking into a microphone is much easier.

FISH

Oh. Okay, so just like...lamer scrapbooking- Yeah! Yeah, I guess. [taps the mic] uh. Check check? ...Right, okay. So, my name is Fish. Just- just Fish. I picked it out myself, actually, ‘cus i really like fish? Y’know? Uh, stonefish specifically but...I think sharks are really cool- are sharks fish? Anyway! [drifting off] I like she/her or they/them pronouns...um...that’s about it. Anyway, I’m here to make sure that Mr. Skeptic over here isn’t going haywire, given all the bullshit I’ve been hearing recently.

LORRIE

[soft laugh] That’s...enough, that’s good. Maybe I should do one of those myself. [pause, deep breath] Okay, uh. Hi, I’m Lorrie. I also picked that name out, sounds like a bird name. There is a bird named Lorrie, but it’s spelled differently. And it’s really colorful, which is the opposite of me! Um, I mainly use he/him or it/its pronouns, they/them is okay sometimes, but it’s best to stay away from it? And I’m not going haywire! Things are just… a little bit weird. It’s probably just hallucinations, it’s nothing.

FISH

A little bit? With all- [sigh, in a sarcastic tone] Okay, fine. Reaaaal convincing. Yeah! Believe that, 100%. ‘Kay, anyway... [laughter]

LORRIE

[sigh] Listen- just. Just shut the fuck up. [more laughter] I’m excited for lunch, though, I don’t remember the last time I ate, actually-

FISH

That’s...not ideal, but kind of the point. So...oh! Well, hopefully you ate before getting that tattoo, did uh- it looks...new. When did you…? [sigh] Okay. What’s with the eyes?

LORRIE

I think they’re cool. I got the tattoo a couple days ago, I’m pretty sure I got something to eat before it? Not a big deal.

FISH

[pause, dumbfounded and concerned] A couple days? Okay, holy shit, Lor. Let’s go get something to eat, okay? Lunch is getting cold, so.

LORRIE

Y-Yeah, that sounds good. Let me ju-just- [muffled movement, recording stops]

LORRIE

Aaaand we’re back. Lunch has been eaten, I feel- a lot better, honestly, and I think it’s a good time to record? [papers rustling] Um...where…? [collects himself] Uh, Fish left for work a little bit ago, which means the only idiot in the house with me is my dog! I’ll be able to work now, I think. Even if reading it makes me feel all- fuckin’ weird. It’s not a- not a great feeling. Not a great feeling at all. Fuck. Okay. Um. Take one of Rumpels-

[cut]

[weary] Take...five? I think? Of Rumpelstiltskin.

[cut]

Take nine of Rumplestiltskin. Read by Lorrie Adams.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN

Once upon a time, there was a miller who was poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he was talking with the king one time, and to make himself seem important he said to the king: "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold."

"That's an art that pleases me;” the king replied, “if your daughter is as talented as you say, bring her to my castle tomorrow and I will put her to the test." 

When the maiden was brought to him he led her into a room that was filled with straw. There he gave her a spinning-wheel and a spindle and said: "Now get to work, if you don’t spin straw into gold by morning, then you must die." Then he locked the room himself, and she remained inside all alone.

 The miller's poor daughter sat there feeling close to her wit’s end, for she knew nothing of spinning straw into gold, and her fear grew greater and greater. When she began to weep, the door suddenly opened and a little man entered, saying: "Good evening, Mistress Miller, why are you weeping so?" 

“Oh,” answered the maiden, "I'm supposed to spin straw into gold, and I don't know how." 

The little man then said: "What will you give me if I spin it for you?" 

"My necklace," the maiden said. The little man took the necklace and sat down at the wheel, and whizz, whizz, whizz, three times round the spool was full. Then he put on another one, and whizz, whizz, whizz, the second one was full; and so it went on until morning, until all the straw was spun and all the spools were filled with gold. The king appeared right at the sunrise and when he saw the gold he was surprised and pleased, but his heart grew even greedier. He locked the miller’s daughter in another room, one that was even larger than the first, and he ordered her to spin all the straw into gold if she valued her life.

The maiden did not know what to do and began to weep; then once again the door opened and the little man appeared and said: "What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?" 

"The ring from my finger," answered the maiden. The little man took the ring, began to work away at the wheel again, and by morning he had spun all the straw into shining gold. The king was extremely pleased by the sight; but his lust for gold was still not satisfied. So he had the miller's daughter brought into an even larger room, and said to her: "You must have all this spun to gold tonight, but if you succeed, you shall become my wife." To himself he thought: Even though she’s just a miller's daughter, I’ll never find a richer woman anywhere in the world. 

When the maiden was alone the little man came again for the third time and asked: "What will you give me if I spin the straw for you once more?" 

"I have nothing left to give," answered the maiden. 

"Then promise me your first child when you become queen." 

"Who knows whether it will ever come to that?" thought the miller's daughter, and since she knew no other way out of her predicament, she promised the little man what he had demanded, and in return the little man spun the straw into gold once again. When the king came in the morning and found everything he had wished, he married her, and the miller's daughter became a queen.

After a year she gave birth to a beautiful child, and the little man had disappeared from her mind. But now he suddenly appeared in her room and said: "Now give me what you promised." The queen was horrified, and offered the little man all the treasures of the kingdom if he would let her keep her child. But the little man replied: "No, something living is more important to me than all the treasures in the world." Then the queen began to grieve and weep so much that the little man felt sorry for her. "I'll give you three days time," he said, "if you guess my name by the third day, you shall keep your child."

The queen spent the entire night trying to recall all the names she had ever heard. She also sent a messenger out into the country to inquire high and low names there were. On the following day when the little man appeared, she began with Kaspar, Melchior, Balzar, and listed all the names she knew, one after the other, but to all of them the little man said: "That's not my name." The second day she had her servants ask around in the neighboring area which names people used, and she came up with the most unusual and strangest names when the little man appeared. "Is your name Ribs of Beef? Or Muttonchops? Or Laced Leg?" But he always replied: “That’s not my name.” On the third day the messenger returned and reported, "I couldn't find a single new name, but as I was climbing a high mountain at the edge of the forest, where the fox and the hare say goodnight to each other, I saw a small cottage, and in front of the cottage was a fire, and around the fire danced a ridiculous little man who was hopping on one leg and screeching:

“Today I'll brew, tomorrow I'll bake,

Soon I'll have the queen's namesake;

Oh, how hard it is to play my game,

For Rumpelstiltskin is my name."

And you can imagine how happy the queen was when she heard the name. As soon as the little man entered and asked: “What’s my name, your highness?” 

She responded first by guessing: "Is your name Cunce?" "No." "Is your name Heinz?" "No." "Can your name be...Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The devil told you! the devil told you!" the little man screamed, and he stamped so ferociously with his right foot that his leg went deep into the ground up to his waist. Then he grabbed the other foot angrily with both hands and ripped himself in two.

LORRIE

[yawn] There’s another number for me to read. [stuttering] Another story. I didn’t- say this in my personal introduction, but I’m [trying to snap himself out of it. literally] working for like, something akin to an audiobook company? These are my- story recordings. Not perfect, by any means, but they’re alright enough, and not really ever my final takes. Um. I like this job. Fully remote, surprisingly good pay for it being paid by commission mostly- I don’t know...why people would want these stories read out, but that’s beside the point. I make enough to get a pretty nice apartment, for me and Fish. They sent me this collection of stories to read from, it’s in this [stuttering and snapping again] big book- this big paperback book, um, and they...they- I get emails with the story numbers that they want me to read? Because they’re all numbered in this book. And the stories are never more than a couple pages at a time, which...is kinda weird because the recordings end up being pretty short that way? I don’t know if they want...more from me for it, but that’s also beside the point.

Anyways. Take 1 of Briar Rose, read by Lorrie Ada-

[very tired] Take 3 of Briar Ro-

Ppppbbbt. [hyping himself up] Okay. Okay, you can do this, Lorrie. It’s not that hard, you’re just talking into a fucking microphone. Okay. Okay. Hm. [drinks something. water..?] Take 13 of Briar Rose, read by Lorrie Adams. 

BRIAR ROSE

In times of old there lived a king and queen, and every day they said, "Oh, if only we had a child!" yet they never had one.

Then one day, as the queen went out bathing, a frog happened to crawl ashore and say to her: “Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before the year is out, you shall give birth to a daughter.”

The frog’s prediction came true, and the queen gave birth to a girl who was so beautiful that the king was overjoyed and decided to hold a great feast. Not only did he invite his relatives, friends, and acquaintances, but also the wise women in the hope that they would be generous and kind to his daughter. There were thirteen wise women in his kingdom, but he only had twelve golden plates from which they could eat. Therefore, one of them had to remain home. The feast was celebrated with tremendous splendor, and when it drew to a close, the wise women bestowed their miraculous gifts upon the child. One gave her virtue, another beauty, the third wealth, and so on until they had given her nearly everything one could possibly wish for in the world. When eleven of them had offered their gifts, the thirteenth suddenly entered the hall. She wanted to get revenge for not having been invited, and without greeting anyone or looking around, she cried out with a loud voice: “In her fifteenth year, the princess shall prick herself with a spindle and fall down dead.” That was all she said. Then she turned around and left the hall.

Everyone was horrified, but the twelfth wise woman stepped forward. She still had her wish to make, and although she could not undo the evil spell, she could nevertheless soften it. “The princess shall not die,” she said, “instead she shall fall into a deep sleep for one hundred years.”

Since the king wanted to guard his dear child against such a catastrophe, he issued an order that all the spindles in his kingdom were to be burned. Meanwhile, the gifts of the wise women fulfilled themselves in every way. The girl was so beautiful, polite, kind, and sensible, that whoever encountered her could not help but adore her. Now, on the day she turned fifteen it happened that the king and queen were not in the palace, so she wandered all over the place and explored as many rooms and chambers as she pleased. She eventually came to an old tower, climbed it’s narrow, winding staircase, and came to a small door. A rusty key was stuck in the lock, and when she turned it, the door sprang open and she saw an old woman in a little room sitting with a spindle and busily spinning flax.

“Good day, old granny!” said the princess, “What are you doing there?”

“I’m spinning,” said the old woman, and she nodded her head.

“What’s the thing that’s bobbing around in such a funny way?” Asked the maiden, and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But just as she touched the spindle, the magic spell began working and she pricked her finger with it. The very moment she felt the prick, she fell down on the bed that was standing there and was overcome by a deep sleep. This sleep soon spread throughout the entire palace. The king and queen had just returned home, and when they entered the hall they fell asleep, as did all the people in their court. They were followed by the horses in the stables, the dogs in the courtyard, the pigeons on the roof, and the flies on the wall. Even the fire flickering in the hearth became tired and fell asleep. The roast stopped sizzling, and the cook, who was just about to pull the kitchen boy’s hair because he had done something wrong, let him go and fell asleep. Finally, the wind died down so that not a single leaf stirred on the trees outside the castle. Soon, a briar hedge began to grow all around the castle, and it grew higher each year. Eventually, it surrounded and covered the entire castle, so that it was no longer visible. Not even the flag on the roof could be seen. Eventually the princess became known as “beautiful, sleeping Briar Rose,” and a tale about her began circulating throughout the country. From time to time, princes tried to break through and get to the castle. However, this was impossible, because the thorns clung together tightly as though they had hands, and the young men got stuck there. Indeed, they could not pry themselves loose and died miserable deaths. 

After many, many years had gone by, a prince came to this country and heard an old man talking about a briar hedge. Supposedly, there was a castle standing behind the hedge and in the castle there was a remarkably beautiful princess named Briar Rose, who had been sleeping for a hundred years along with the king and queen and their entire court. The old man also knew from his grandfather that many princes had come and had tried to break through the briar hedge, but they had got stuck and died wretched deaths. “I am not afraid!” said the prince, “I intend to see the beautiful Briar Rose!”

The good old man tried his best to dissuade him, but the prince would not heed his word. Now the hundred years had just ended, and the day of which Briar Rose was to wake up again had arrived. When the prince approached the briar hedge he found nothing but little flowers that opened of their own accord and let him through, like a hedge. In the courtyard, he saw the horses and the spotted hunting dogs lying asleep. The pigeons were perched on the roof and had tucked their heads beneath their wings. When he entered the palace, the flies were asleep on the wall, the cook was still holding his hand as if he wanted to grab the kitchen boy, and the maid was sitting in front of the black chicken that she was about to pluck. As the prince continued walking, he saw the entire court lying asleep in the hall, with the king and queen beside the throne. Then he moved on, and everything was so quiet he could hear himself breathe. 

Finally, he came to the tower and opened the door to the small room where Briar Rose slept. There she lay in her beauty, so marvelous that he could not take his eyes off of her. And then, he leaned over and gave her a kiss, and when his lips touched hers Briar Rose opened her eyes, woke up, and looked at him fondly. After that, they went downstairs together and the king and queen woke up along with the entire court and they all looked at each other in amazement. Soon, the horses in the courtyard stood up and shook themselves. The hunting dogs jumped around and wagged their tails, the pigeons on the roof lifted their heads from beneath their wings, looked up and flew off into the fields. The flies on the wall continued crawling, the fire in the kitchen flared up, flickered, and cooked the meat, the roast began to sizzle again, and the cook gave the kitchen boy such a box on the ear that he let out a cry while the maid finished plucking the chicken.

The wedding of the prince with Briar Rose was celebrated with great splendor, and lived happily to the end of their day. 

LORRIE

[with a bad taste in his mouth] Reaaaally can’t say I’m a big fan of the whole, like...lack of consent thing? Like, who just kisses some sleeping 115 year old? Like jesus fuck, get some manners! Like, why didn’t the prince just...try shaking her? Why did he just immediately kiss her- what the FUCK- 

Anyways, I couldn’t stop yawning during that recording, if that says anything about my thoughts on it. I hope I didn’t put you to sleep, at least. Whoever ends up listening to this. I think I need to go to bed. Goodnight, end recording.

[yourfaveisyanderematic]

For anon who requested Trish.  Didn’t go as dark as I liked bc frankly I just wanted to write about Trish stepping on me, and you know what?  I’m valid.

Sniffles angrily why the FUCK are my readmores not working tungle.hell what did you DO

“I’m not sure about the color.”  Your boss frowned at the tube of lipstick and waved it under your nose for inspection.  You glanced at the color—a matte magenta—and then noticed the sales rep hovering anxiously a few feet away, clearly itching to give her opinion but too intimidated after getting an earful the first time.  Trish Una might not know what she wanted, but she certainly wasn’t about to tolerate anything she perceived as attempting to rush her into a decision, something that every employee and nearby customer in the store could attest to.

The two of you had been shopping for long enough to make your legs feel weak, but if you let Trish buy anything she was unhappy with, you’d be the one suffering.  You smiled indulgently.  “Do you think it’s too dark?  If you’re hoping to match with your hair—“

“I didn’t ask what you thought,” she cut you off with an irritated snap, “I just said I wasn’t sure.”

You knew better than to reply; just shut your mouth and nodded, trying not to admire the way her eyes flashed when she got petulant.  They weren’t just green, they were deep, with beautiful little hints of blue or dark green depending on the lighting and emotion.  She seemed to like it when you made eye contact, too, which was one of the reasons you’d lasted longer than all her other bodyguards.

“They’re either afraid that I’ll catch them looking, or they stare like I’ll vanish if they stop.  It’s creepy.  I like how you look at me; maybe I’ll keep you around.”

The sensation of something waxy being pressed against your lips startled you out of your thoughts, though you knew better than to move your head.  Trish applied the color to the contours of your mouth with an expression of quiet concentration, which was good because she probably missed the light blush as you realized how close her fingers were to your lips.  She took a step back, either admiring her work or making sure she didn’t miss a spot, then pointed at her feet.

Here?  In front of everyone?  You didn’t hesitate; making her repeat herself was a mistake that was only made once.  You sank to one knee all the same as she extended her hand expectantly.  Her eyes never left yours as you pressed your lips to the back of her hand, a well-practiced symbol of submission that left a magenta mark along her knuckles.  Trish pulled her hand back, staring at it from different angles, and you watched for her reaction with bated breath.  Would she make you do this again, with all the colors she was considering?

Again, her eyes met yours.  “I like the color after all.”

You got to your feet, more than a little relieved, as she wandered off to go look at highlighter.

—

“Chianti?  I think it’ll go great with the penne.”  Trish toyed with the menu, giving an annoyed glance at the waiter busy taking someone else’s order.  No doubt, he’d soon know the magnitude of his insolence.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly, Miss Una.”

Another frown as she leveled her glare at you.  “I keep telling you to call me Trish.  And it’s only a glass.”

“I’m meant to be protecting you, Miss Una.  Even a glass would be too much.”  The words were well-practiced and neutral, but the way her eyes narrowed sent a shiver down your spine.

This wasn’t an unfamiliar argument, but it was still a stressful one; while part of your job was to keep her happy in addition to protecting her, your actual employer was her father—the motherfucking Don of Passione—and that meant some things were out of the question.  Trish opened her mouth to argue but seemed to realized this too, taking a deep breath.

“Then you’ll drink with me in private,” she muttered, “if Daddy can’t keep me safe in my own villa, then I don’t know what you’re supposed to do.  It’ll be fine.”

“If that’s what you want, Miss Una.” The waiter had finished and was now approaching your table; you counted the seconds until his imminent earful as you replied.

“And you’ll call me Trish, too.  When it’s just us.”  It wasn’t phrased like a command, just a statement, like there wasn’t another option.  

“If that’s what you…”

“Welcome to—oh, heeeey, I thought I recognized you!”  The man broke into a broad grin, boldly putting a hand on your shoulder.  It took a moment for you to register who he was, darting your eyes from his face to his name tag and back again, before it clicked.

“Dominic…oh, it’s been a while.”  That wasn’t just a rush of self-consciousness you felt as he stared at your new lipstick, that was panic.  Your old boyfriend was the type who loved to catch up and talk at length, but you were on the job.  Trish hadn’t spoken yet, apparently in a surprisingly merciful mood, but her patience was far from finite.  You spoke over Dominic’s next words, probably an attempt to prolong the conversation.

“The lady will be having a your penne—the chef’s special—and I’ll just have the Bahn Mi.  She’ll also be having a Chianti; you’ll need to open the bottle at the table where I can see.  Same as the mineral water.  Got all that?”  Dominic dutifully took your order down.  He turned to leave, and you were just beginning to breathe easier again when…

“Ah, before I forget…I’m actually getting off in a few hours, after the dinner rush.  If you’re not busy, let’s hang out, okay?  Catch up.”  He scrawled his number on a napkin and tucked it into your breast pocket with a wink, giving it a pat.  You watched him wander away and then looked back at Trish, the apology dying on your lips as you watched her reach over and delicately pluck the napkin from your pocket.  Her eyes didn’t leave yours as she neatly tore it apart with a deliberation that could only come from barely suppressed rage.

—

“Inside.”

That was the first word Trish had said to you in well over an hour.  Lunch had passed in chilly silence, and her interest in new clothes or sweets had mysteriously died out.  When she wanted the car brought round to take her home, she ordered the chauffeur herself instead of telling you to do it.  

You tried not to feel like a disobedient pet as you watched the light play over the gold accents in her jewelry and expensive clothes, but it was hard not to; Trish had a way of making even minor things seem like a deep betrayal, and it might take a few days for her to recover enough to talk to you again.  The last time she was this quiet, you’d been conversing with the doorman for a little too long, and she wouldn’t say a word for the entire day.

You hurried to open the front door for her—it wouldn’t do to make her wait, not with you already in trouble—and she swept past without giving you a second glance.  You trailed behind, deaf to the snickering of the driver as he walked in.

A couple minutes passed where the only sound was that of your footsteps on hardwood floor and plush carpet, before she threw open the door to her quarters and all but stomped inside.  Leaving and dealing with the wrath of her father seemed like the more attractive of your two options, but you followed her anyway…and found yourself slammed against the wall, held in place by her Stand.  Trish’s face was barely an inch from yours, close enough that you could smell her perfume.  Her eyes had an intensity you’d never seen before, one that trapped your gaze.  You couldn’t look away.

“How dare you,” she breathed, reaching to shut the door with a quiet snap, “let that man put his dirty hands on you.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get that close, but he did know me, and you’d asked me not to make a scene in the pas—“ Spice Girl’s elbow shifted, now pressing against your throat as you felt yourself sink slightly into the wall.

“Did you see how he looked at you?  How he talked like he could just see you?  ‘Let’s hang out…��” her face twisted as she parroted Dominic’s invitation.  “Did he think he could just have you again?”  Her glare was back on you.

“I’m the only one who can look at you like that.  I’m the only one who needs to be in your world.”

“And you are…Trish.  You’re the only one I think about,” you croaked, taking the chance.  Placating her was more important than propriety at the moment.  She scrutinized your face, apparently deciding whether you were pertinent enough, before abruptly stepping back, dismissing Spice Girl and letting you fall to your knees.  You felt the point of her heel dig into your shoulder as she pushed you lower, until your head was inches away from her other foot.

“Hm…if you want me to accept your apology, you’re going to have to make more of an effort.  Can you think of anything?”

You leaned forward, sagging slightly under the weight of her heel, and touched your lips to her ankle.  You raised your head slightly, pressing the next kiss to her shin, gradually going higher as you left a trail of magenta kisses behind.  You couldn’t see it, but Trish’s smirk widened with each one.

“That is nice.”  Her delicate fingers rested in your hair and then twisted, forcing your head upwards to meet her gaze.

“But I think you can do better.”

[daisychains4]

Can’t Handle You | Chapter 9: Barcelona

Can’t Handle You | Masterlist

Warnings: One curse word

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

“If everything in your house had to be one color, what would you pick?” Shawn was picking at his guitar while Brian played FIFA on the PS4 they’d hooked up in Shawn’s hotel room. To Brian, the question came out of nowhere.

“Huh?” Brian asked, keeping his attention on the game.

“You know, like if everything in your house had to all be the same color, what color would it be?” Shawn asked again.

“I don’t know, blue I guess,” said Brian noncommittally.

“Blue, really?” asked Shawn incredulously. “I think I would get tired of that.”

“Maybe,” said Brian, “but who the fuck cares?” he turned his attention back to the game.

 “It’s just a question,” said Shawn, pseudo-defensively.

“Where in the world did it come from?”

Shawn momentarily contemplated telling Brian about the stack of notes he had saved, shoved into a journal where he wrote down song lyrics that flitted into his head day and night. About how a stranger - a mystery woman - had captured his attention with the witty notes she’d begun to sign with an X, handwritten in a hybrid of cursive and print with architectural As and cursive Fs that were written lazily, quickly, the effect being that the letter looked backwards. He thought about telling Brian that despite his pride in getting to know everyone on the tour, someone in his entourage had managed to escape his attention. Or maybe, he thought to himself, it’s someone I do know. He thought about the women in his crew, their personalities, whether he’d ever seen their handwriting. But something told him that this woman wasn’t Addison or his stylist Tiffany or the girls in hair and makeup. This woman - who was equal parts witty and thoughtful based on the notes and the way she cared for him - had a humor to her that he hadn’t seen from the women who toured with him. And that’s how he would describe what she’d been doing: caring for him. The tea, the earring solution, the scarf, the most incredible gift she’d given him in Italy, of those moments when he closed his eyes and believed he was in his childhood home. Something about all of this told Shawn that he was missing someone, that he hadn’t been paying as close attention as he’d thought.

“Dude?” Brian asked, finally noticing that Shawn had disappeared inside his head.

“I don’t know,” Shawn said, shaking himself out of his train of thought. “Nowhere I guess.” He wasn’t ready to share this somewhat unconventional friendship with Brian yet. Some part of him wanted to keep her all to himself.

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

The note was sticking out of a pocket of Shawn’s backpack when you found it just hours before the Barcelona show.

Gray, it said decisively. It’s the only color I can think of that I wouldn’t get tired of, and it comes in a million shades. I would never be able to give up my guitars, though, and they’re all different colors, so I won’t be living in a monochromatic house anytime soon.

And before you go calling me boring (again), I’ll remind you that the point of this game is that I ask questions that will help me figure out who you are. It’s a little unfair. You already know who I am.

You chuckled at this. He was right, you had to admit to yourself. The game was more than a little one-sided.

You finished steaming Shawn’s shirts, knowing he would want to go out after the show tonight, and you thought about his latest question: Where are you from? And I want to know more than just the name of the city. Tell me about your home.

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

It was never lost on you how incredible the experience of a Shawn Mendes show was. You watched your twelfth show of the tour from the floor with Addison and a few others from the crew. This was your first time to see the show as a member of the audience rather than backstage, and it was unlike anything you’d seen before. The energy of the crowd was infectious, and you found yourself singing loudly along with them, fangirling with the rest, forgetting momentarily that earlier today, you had been folding Shawn’s underwear into drawers in yet another hotel room. If only the surrounding crowd knew. You chuckled to yourself, then let the show carry you away.

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

When Shawn made his way into the green room after the show, sweat was dripping from every part of him. He grabbed a towel to soak up some of the perspiration - evidence of another adrenaline-pumping performance - and passed through the green room and into his dressing room to shower. As he stood in front of the lighted mirror, toweling off his hair while the shower heated up, he caught sight of a note tucked underneath the corner of his toiletry kit.

The note was the longest yet - almost a page. He leaned against the vanity, unable to resist reading it, when Brian burst through the door. Shawn hastily stuffed the note into his toiletry bag. Luckily, Brian wasn’t the most observant person, so he didn’t notice Shawn’s behavior.

“Hurry up, man!” Brian said excitedly. “We’re going out tonight!”

“Alright!” Shawn laughed with his best friend. “I’m going!”

It wasn’t until hours later, holed up in his Barcelona hotel bed, that Shawn read:

Austin, Texas. It’s not as backwoods-country as people tend to think. We don’t all have thick Southern accents and I’ve never seen anyone ride a horse to work, although once, in high school, someone did bring a pig to first period.

Austin is a huge urban city. We have some of the best food in the world. Maybe I haven’t been as many places as you, but so far, nothing I’ve tasted has beaten what you can find in any of the food trucks on South Congress. Maybe it suggests I’m an indecisive person, but I really can’t think of anything better than fusion food because it’s the best of all the worlds. Give me Kimchi fries from Chi’lantro and a bahn mi from Van’s. Or find me at Whiskey and Fried Chicken Wednesdays at The Peached Tortilla. (That place started as a food truck, too. Maybe I just love food trucks.)

A lot of Texas is flat, but not Austin. Austin is Hill Country. When I was little, my mom would take me to the top of Mount Bonnell (which is less mountain, more hill), and I thought I was standing on the top of the world. We have Lake Travis, bats (look them up), and the most beautiful parks. I learned to ride a bike at Zilker Park, which is this completely incredible piece of land dead in the middle of the city, but when you’re there, you forget that you’re in a city at all (a little like Central Park, in fact, which is near where I live now). I learned to swim in Barton Springs, a massive spring-fed pool that’s the perfect temperature all year long. I went swimming there in the winter once. The water felt ok, but getting out of the water was a totally different story. I’m in no rush to do that again.

Austin is the perfect place to live if - like me - your love of the outdoors is equal to your love of the city. The sunrises are magical, only rivalled by the beauty of sunsets.

But my very favorite thing about Austin is the music. We’re known for it - the Live Music Capital of the World. It’s where Janis Joplin and Stevie Ray Vaughn started. And later, Spoon and Iron & Wine (two of my favorites). It’s everywhere, in every part of our culture. You can hardly go out to dinner most nights of the week without being subjected to some live musician or other.

I grew up surrounded by music. It fills every part of me. Every memory - good and bad - comes with a song attached. And while I don’t have it in me to play or sing or even write, I need to be near it. I guess that’s why I’m here, chasing around a world-famous rockstar while he lives his dream. Folding a rockstar’s underwear is less glamorous than it sounds - but there’s nothing quite like the music. I’d follow it anywhere.

X

P.S. What would you name your boat if you had one?

Taglist | @librarianct, @5secondsofjade4499, @theetherealbloom

[k8-with-an-eight]

There are times when I wake up and it seems so much colder in this world. Sometimes, I will feel better and there will be days, even weeks, where the sunbeams stream down upon me and there is hope for better days, there is warmth that spreads from my scalp to my fingertips and for a moment, I will forget what it feels like to hurt. I will smile and laugh without fear, it seems so easy to breathe and I fall asleep without struggle because I am at peace. but then I will open my eyes and feel that the holes in my heart have reopened, there is an emptiness in my gut and an anvil weighing on my chest. My God, I know that this is the feeling that has been most consistent for all of my life but I had forgotten how painful it was, the way the ache spreads through me like a virus and suddenly nothing seems worth it anymore. The mattress where I lay feels like shackles, like a desert island and if I try to climb off my lungs will fill with sea water until they burst. And today tears fell from my eyes and I shook and I could not form a sentence with the stutter in my voice because it seemed too intimidating, I laid motionless until the AM turned to PM, but while awake, I dreamt of something better. Something different. Maybe if I feel something new, I will forget this familiar affliction.

Maybe if I packed my clothes, a notebook and a few good pens in a backpack, I could climb on a bus and find meaning in the rolling grass that would turn to mountain ranges as the sunrise flushed like petals blooming as the spring began. My best friend could be by my side, also tired of the monotony of being alive but not really living. We would share an earbud each from a single pair of headphones, listen to all of our favorite songs, I would sleep with my head on her shoulder and she would smell like cocoa butter and wood tip wine black and milds. We would awake in a different place where no one knows who we are, climb off the bus with groggy sleep-crusted eyes, but we would look out and see something so familiar but also so foreign. We would maybe make new friends, see things we never had before, sit on the edge of a mountain range and hear the wind whistle past our ears. We would explore places she had never been and maybe some that I had, but we would live a life that we had never before. We would sit in a hot spring, feel the warm water and the rocks against our thighs. We would sleep in cheap motels, write poems about our days or scribble sketches of the people we had met or the thoughts in our heads. And once we had seen all that we could, we would climb back on that familiar bus and head somewhere that neither of us had ever seen. We would see trees so tall that they looked like they reached towards God, fields of flowers, bustling city streets full of people searching for their new beginnings. This would not be our new beginning, but maybe just a reset button on the life we thought we did not want any longer. Maybe we would sit atop the highest place we could find and look at all the city lights or maybe we would stick our toes in the sand, look out at the vastness of the sea and admire the way the blues of the sky and the ocean both were so similar and contrasting at the same time. Maybe we would find quartz in riverbanks, our heels washed with the cool waters, tiny fish darting past us with the current. I wonder if the waters could feel how far we had come. Maybe we’d catch another bus or hitch another ride, go to the Grand Canyon or sit at the base of a mountain, visit my father and eat Bahn Mi at a secluded sandwich shop and feel like we are on the moon with the way the darkness falls so fast in the desert. Maybe I would find a car, rust free in a land where the snow is unfamiliar, it would be at least ten years old but it would be new to me and we would get in and wave goodbye to half of the reason why I am here at all, maybe we would drive it back to the flatlands with endless plains and memories of pain, but that still remains home, or maybe we would get in and wave goodbye and keep seeing new places, tasting cheap street food and seeing skyscrapers as tall as our fears had been before we left, sit under a west coast waterfall, but avoid the south for the most part because of the confederate flags and the humidity. But in the end, we would have seen so many beautiful things and experienced so much we never thought we would, that our starting point might seem beautiful again. We would arrive back and I would hug my mother tightly and I would tell her that I have seen more of the world than we ever thought we would, tasted the salt of the sea, felt mountains beneath my palms and that we were not just staying alive anymore, but living, truly living, and that life was so much more than we ever imagined it could be.