#looks to the moon and five pebbles Go To College!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryus3i · 2 years

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Kaeya x gn reader

Fluff, modern au

Word Count: 1.3k

☾ ~ Inspired by Something About You by Eyedress. I recommend you listen to this songwhile you read.~ ☽

Pulling a 12 hour study session was never easy, the universe did everything she could to try and distract you. She would make the birds chirp, the dogs bark and the cars honk. And on top of all of that she sent your ever so endearing boyfriend Kaeya over to your house at 11pm to throw pebbles at your window. Kaeya, Kaeya, Kaeya what do with him? Yes he was loving, warm hearted and kind but was also troublesome, extroverted and distracting.

Not being able to take the noise of the small pebbles hitting your glass window you open it and feel the brisk evening winds run through your hair. Calm and peaceful moments like this don’t last very long especially with Kaeya. Before you knew it a particularly sharp pebble had hit your face. The culprit guilty before the trial.

“Kaeya, what the fuck!” You should have expected this, all of it. You knew telling Kaeya that you were busy today was your first mistake, it only made him want to pester you more. Your second mistake was to open the window, signaling to Kaeya to continue his antics.

“Sorry Babe” he shouts. His notorious smile, present on his moonlit face. His blue- gray eyes mirror the moon in all its glory, looking over the two of you catching each other’s gaze. His playful and mischievous, yours tired and annoyed.

“Baby, where’s the ladder?”

“Kaeya, get the fuck out of here. I have one hour left, just one hour. Please let me finish. I'm so close. Go home please, I’m beyond tired. We can do something tomorrow, just let me finish today”. There was no way you were going to let him get his way again. This experience wasn’t a one time thing and often happens more times then you can admit. He would always come at the wrong time demanding your attention and you being you would give in to his affections in less than five minutes.

“Y/n, baby, love of my life, please”. He was getting desperate, but you won’t give in, you can’t. Looking down at him, you can’t help but feel bad. He probably just missed you, you hadn’t talked to him since the morning, he must have been lonely. It was also cold outside. Looking down at your textbook, you shut it closed. 11 hours should be enough.

“ It’s near the garage door,” you say, letting out a sigh. There's something about him.

Grabbing the ladder, he quickly climbs up and into your room. Standing with your arms crossed you look at him, a goofy smile plastered on his face and glistening orbs looking into your own.

Walking closer to you he pulls you into an embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your waist lovingly, your head on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath you inhale the smell of his cologne, the only one he wears, the one you love.

“I missed you” he lets out before leaning in to kiss you. His soft lips hit your own. Your hands cup his soft skin, his skin cold to the touch of your warm hands.

“I know”, you say pulling apart from his lips. You will admit you missed him as well, very much. Ever so often your mind would drift to think about him. Did he eat? What was he doing? Why do you love him? Questions like those often pop up in your mind.

“You know, you should just drop out of college and do something that isn’t school related. That would be so much better, we could probably have more time for each other.”, He says as sits down on your bed.

“Very funny, not everyone can be a front cover magazine model like you” you say throwing yourself into his arms on the bed. Wrapping his arms around you, he engulfs you in his warmth placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Well you could, you're the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, there’s something about you that’s so dreamy”. He says placing another kiss on your forehead.

“Anyways, I didn’t come here for nothing let’s go, I actually have something in mind”. Deciding to comply rather than refusing you climb off of Kaeya and stand up. You actually wanted to see what he had in mind.

“Let’s go” you say as he grabs your hand and leads you to the door. Taking you outside he leads you to his deep blue Toyota. Being the gentleman he is, he holds the door open for you, and closes it after you. He gets into the driver’s seat and immediately turns up a playlist the two of you made for each other. Opening the windows you stick your hand out relaying in the feeling of the cool breeze running through your fingers. This was definitely better than studying for another hour, this was just what you needed to take your mind away from studying relentlessly. Kaeya always knows what to do and always has the best ideas. You can’t remember a time where you didn't have fun when you went out together. There’s something about him.

Speeding on the empty roads you take in the sight of the tall buildings high above you, only lit by the dim single lights turned on by people working past hours for jobs who couldn’t care less. The city was silent and dim, making you feel alive. The night was when you could escape from all your problems, you could tuck them away to bed as you woke up. The feeling of Kaeya’s hand in yours brings you back to reality, the car had stopped and you had arrived.

“Don’t open your eyes until I let go” Kaeya says as he softly places one of his hands on your eyes, completely blinding you. Taking his free hand in yours once again he starts to lead you through what felt like grass. What was he up to?

“Ok, open your eyes now”, he says, lifting his hands away from your eyes. Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes fall on the sight of a picnic blanket set by the side of the glistening lake only a few footsteps away. On top of the picnic basket were charcuterie boards, sandwiches and champagne. The perfect date.

“I love you, Kaeya”, you say, wrapping your arms around him. He was everything you could have ever asked for, you wouldn’t trade him for the world, no matter what

“I love you too baby, so much” he says letting go of you, as he sits down on the red and white checkered picnic blanket. Sitting down next to him you take in the scenery around you, trees lined up one by one far outside of the city beside the grand glistening lake reflecting the moon.

Carefully pouring the pink sparkling champagne in the glasses Kaeya hands one to you, bringing the glass to your lips, rose champagne has always been your favorite. Peeling back the plastic off of the wrapped club sandwiches you place them on the blue china plates in front of Kaeya.

Silently enjoying your sandwich while looking at the sky, you feel a pair of two blue eyes looking at you.

“Why are you staring at me?” you try to turn your face from him, but he moves even closer to you and cups your cheeks in his hands.

“You're so pretty, you look just like a dream” he says before slowly connecting your lips to his. Wrapping your arms around his neck you deepen the kiss before he slowly pulls away.

“Let’s watch the stars” you say laying down, Kaeya lays right beside you pulling you in even closer. Nuzzling into his chest you stare up into the sky. So many stars in the sky yet to you Kaeya shined the brightest, Kaeya was your star, forever.

Feeling yourself drift off to sleep you let sleep take you in Kaeya’s arms. Kaeya was your world, your star, your everything and you would never let him go. There’s something about him

#kaeya x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #kaeya imagines #kaeya x gender neutral reader #☾mai works

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lydias--stiles · 3 years

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clandestine meetings and longing stares

juke secret dating au | title: illicit affairs // taylor swift | a middle of the night scribble

When twelve year old Julie Molina got a stern talk from her father that she wasn't allowed to date until college, the tween had no qualms with it. The only boy she's ever liked had been Sokka from Avatar and that was it. Real boys didn't interest her.

Until she turned sixteen and caught sight of Luke Patterson.

In the years between, she had small crushes here and there. Lance, Nick, Noah. None, however, competed with storm that erupted in her stomach each time Luke smiled at her - her heart in a constant frenzy.

It was the beginning of junior year when he randomly sat next to her in music class and brought out all the bravado. It shouldn't have been cute. Julie should've rolled her eyes, dismissed his cute smirk, but she simply couldn't. The shimmering green of his eyes and the nice laugh was too alluring, too attractive. Soon enough, Julie was crushing on him hard. Which was fortunate, since he very much liked her as well, something he never hid from her.

("Watch out, Julie," he joked during one of their first conversations. "The charm is gonna make you get a crush on me!")

Luke kissed her two weeks after, chastely and secretly under the bleachers. Her infatuated mind forgot in that moment how she wasn't even allowed to look at a guy and eagerly kissed him back. It had been her first kiss and wow - what a perfect one at that.

A beat later, she realised her mistake and told him about her dad's stupid rule. His face had crashed for all of ten seconds when a mischievous grin crawled on his lips (an expression that would get her into serious trouble one day) and said: "Why tell him?"

Had it been any other boy, she would've shaken her head and regret kissing him. But this was Luke. She really liked Luke. The idea of not being with him, of not seeing where this could go, was a greater fear than her father's disappointment. In response, she snatched him back into a kiss he all too hungrily went along with.

Rule #1: Don't date! Broken, busted, thrown out the window with a smile.

It started off easy. At school, no one had to worry. She sat with him at lunch and let herself be coaxed under the bleachers and snuggled into his embrace at the end of the day. On the parking lot, she could pretend she was simply saying goodbye to her boyfriend and not going home to lie in her dad's face about why she was so overly chipper all of a sudden.

(Luke made her so ridiculously happy it was unfair. Each time he surprised her with a hug, her feet lifted from the ground; each time they kissed, his thumbs grazed her cheeks like she was a precious gem; each time she came up with a clever lyric, he gave her the toothiest grin and called her all the cute nicknames he could think of. Boss, baby, babe, Lyric Queen.)

God, she was complete mush for this boy. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing enough, not quite matching his overt display of affection, but she knew she must be doing something right if he never stopped smiling when she talked. That his eyes held a certain softness, timidness, reserved for her only.

They outgrew school quickly. Both wanted to go on dates without raising suspicion, Luke wanted to come over and just be with her without causing havoc.

"Why does the rule exist anyway?", he asked at the end of a cool December day.

Julie toyed with the lapels of his red shacket. "It's dumb. I mean, I get it, but it's dumb." Sighing, she explained his reasoning. "He wants me to fully focus on school so that I can get into a good college. Once I secured that, then I'm allowed to have fun."

Luke frowned. "I- I guess I kind of get it."

Her eyes rolled teasingly. "You don't even want to go to college."

"Correction: I wanna go to frat parties and have the college experience-"

"Without the classes part," she deadpanned. His face fell flat, a giggle of her own following.

His frown returned, a look she hated seeing. "You don't think he'll… I don't know, let go of that rule when he sees we're good?" His calloused hands slipped from her waist to softly cradle her face. Julie sighed, leaning into the touch. Resisting Luke and everything he did was hard. A smile twitched on his lips. "Would be pretty dope to come through the front door and kiss my girlfriend."

Her heart clenched at his confession. It would be amazing, but it sounded so unbelievable that it could easily be taken as a joke. Dad would go absolutely insane if she pulled something like that. Hey dad! Don't mind me as I jump into the arms of my boyfriend and he kisses me like a heartthrob from the movies!

She should've known Luke would try something. His impulsivity was an admirable trait, she found, though the pebbles hitting her window past midnight have her such a fright that she cursed for a beat how one track minded he could be. Until she caught sight of him. Eyes twinkling in the moonlight, a wide smile, his casual stance. He pointed at her and she nodded, grabbing her phone to text him there was a ladder by the garage.

Quiet like a ghost and quick like a fox, Luke snuck into her room, feet falling onto the floor with a soft thud.

Butterflies raged in her stomach. Her secret boyfriend was here, in her room, right now, with her father sleeping just down the hall.

"What're you doing here?", she whispered, already breathless from having him near.

His nose scrunched up. "Trying to be romantic. Should I have called you first?"

She shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe next time. It's-" Her arms slung around his shoulders, heart hammering a mile a minute. Her pyjamas were nothing special, an oversized pullover and sweatshorts, but it felt oddly intimate to be so cozy together. His own faded t-shirt was from a zoo in Oregon and his sweatpants softer than any of the ones she owned. Julie almost asked to borrow them, if it wasn't for his lips to swallow the words with a warm kiss.

Her fingers slipped into his hair. Yeah. This was better than talking.

It soon became routine. Every other week, Luke would text her a moon emoji and then climb into her room around midnight. They'd kiss and cuddle, Luke often leaving by five am and then making a whole show at school as if he hadn't seen her. Julie thought it was cute. If she could, she'd return the favour and go to his place, but Luke assured her she did not want that and, consequently, her father would just know. Unfortunately, she didn't have Luke's agility like some parkour champ.

"Trust me, Jules, I don't mind," he told her at lunch while stealing a cherry tomato. "I like sneaking in."

Alex shot him a look. "You like feeling like the main character of a movie, that's what."

"You brainwashed me with romcoms, so it's your fault, dude,' Luke retorted, grinning when the blonde flipped him off.

They got cocky though. Julie knew her dad would be gone during the day for a photography gig in Santa Monica, all the way on the other side of Los Angeles. It was the perfect excuse to get Luke over. Excited, Julie opened the front door for him with a flourish and did a silly courtesy.

"Your first time using my door," she teased. "Must feel special."

His cocky nod made her roll her eyes. "Super special," he replied gravely, playing along. "She's been begging for me."

Her expression turned sour. "I haven't been begging for you."

His smirk widened, tugging on a curl as he slipped past her. "Was I talking about you?"

He didn't, but he did start making out with her the second they were in the safety of her bedroom, so she knew there wasn't much competition.

That afternoon, they successfully avoided her dad's wrath and felt arrogantly confident about it. It made them daring. Pushing the limits, how far could they go, how blatant could they be before he knew? It was almost a game, the thrill part of the insane attraction she felt each time he snuck in.

His strong arms were wrapped around her as she straddled his waist, kissing him. Every touch was languid and intentional, a searing passion that rippled her skin and left her mind empty. Kissing Luke always put her in a dreamy, blissful haze. Her fingers clawed at his shirt and he shrugged it off in one fluid motion, pulling her back in. His skin was warm, hers to explore. Julie grinned into the kiss. His fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

"Julie?"

They froze. Her dad. Other side of the door. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. As quietly as possible, the girl hoisted herself from his lap and motioned at her closet.

"Julie?" The door handle began to shake.

Her voice squeaked. "Just a second!" Luke tiptoes into her closet, Julie kicking his shirt under her bed as she ran to the door. Her flushed cheeks would be a dead giveaway had her father ever doubt her trust. Fortunately, Julie Molina was in the eyes of her family a perfect good girl.

(The guy hiding in her closet would whisper something else in her ear.)

"Why is your door locked?" Dad frowned. "You never lock your door."

Julie shrugged, innocence leaking from her tone. "I can't have some privacy?"

"Of course, Julie," he said, though his lips were pressed into a thin smile. This clearly wasn't the last time they'd talk about it. "I'm going to the store. Do you need something?"

"No, thanks," she rushed. "Anything else?"

"Uh, no. Don't lock yourself in, hm?" It was said as a joke, his brows lifted, but both she and her father knew he meant it. No more locking doors. Shit.

When the front door fell shut and the car rumbled into the street, Luke reappeared with a careful smile.

Julie sighed. "That… was close. Maybe we should stop hanging out right after school. I didn't even hear him coming up the stairs."

"Damn, Jules!” Peppering two kisses on her forehead, it did little to relief her stress. “Now that's an ego booster."

"I'm serious!" She huffed. "I hate this. I hate the rule and I hate that I'm making you put up with it."

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "It's shitty, yeah, but you're not making me do anything." Nodding at her lips, he added: "Your smile is already…"

The smile bloomed on its own accord when he trailed off, edging closer. "What?"

That little shake of his head almost made her kiss him, but she wanted to know what he was going to say, why his lips were parted in that wonderstruck expression. When nothing came, a curious hum rumbled in her throat as she placed her chin on his chest.

He relented, tapping a finger against her cheek. “Your smile is already making me do dumb stuff.”

Oh, God. If he was going to continue saying things like that, she might actually fall in love with him. Back when Julie and Flynn were still obsessed with those relationship quizzes in magazines, she always claimed she’d like guys that weren’t so smooth with their words. She thought it meant they were players. But Luke never half-assed anything.

Her head tilted, amused. “Do you always have words ready?”

“Zero words, Jules,” he quipped. “Ever.”

Yeah, she might actually love him.

Public dates became a thing after that conversation. She simply couldn’t let him get away because of some rule, even if he claimed he wouldn’t. Eats & Beats was a cute, little café in the heart of Los Feliz with live music and amazing lattes; it was also their regular spot. They’d settle themselves into a booth, share a baked good (“If we’re trying the carrot cake now, we’re doing the pastel de nata next week.” “Deal.”) and talk for hours. Sometimes, when either was tinkering on a song, they’d work on it together.

One leg overlapped his, his fingers drawing pictures on her knee. The booth with the suede red couches and the scratching of a star in the wood was their safe haven.

“Mh, no,” she swallowed the piece of muffin. “That’s such an ugly word, don’t use that.”

He grinned, shoulders nudging as a tease. “Drencher not doing it for you?”

A laugh bubbled up, kissing his cheek. “Just use ‘rain’, you dork!”

“Dork?”, he mocked, getting in her face.

“Yeah.” Her nose brushed his. “Dork.”

“You are a dork.”

“That’s the best you’ve got, Patterson?”

Luke smirked, eyes flicking across her frame. “Want me to show you my best, Molina?”

She pushed his face away, a blush creeping up her cheekbones. They haven’t done it yet, but whenever he got like this, she felt her entire skin heat up at the mere idea. A part of her wanted to take that step, but she felt bad doing it if her dad or tía didn’t know. Knowing that they wouldn’t support her for as long as the rule existed, made her settle with that heat for a little longer. Her leg slipped from his and turned back to his songbook.

“So-”

“Julie?”

The couple looked up, once more paralysed as her dad’s familiar voice called her name. Why was he literally everywhere?! His tall figure stood in front of their booth, his hat shrouding the grimace on his face as his scrutinising eyes flitted between them. Oh, God. Did he know? Did he see? How much did he see? Did he see Luke checking her out? Mortification didn’t even come close to what she felt.

“Dad!” Her pressed smile hopefully looked relaxed to him. Her dad had moments of obliviousness; she might be able to save this. “What- hi, I didn’t know you had a booking here.”

His suspicion didn’t waver. “Yeah, honey, for the Rodriguez’ - I told you last night. Was just getting, ah, coffee.” He nodded at Luke. “Who’s this?”

My boyfriend. The one I’m falling for. The boy I’ve been hiding for months. “This is Luke, he’s one of my classmates.” The way his arm tensed at the label made her ache, but she had to truck on. “We’re working on a song.”

If he didn’t believe her, she just hurt her boyfriend for no reason. It did the trick though. Her father’s face mellowed, noticing the scribbles in the tattered book. “You’re working on a song?”

“Yeah. It’s really getting along.” Her finger tapped against his thigh. “Right, Luke?”

He perked up, a cough following as he straightened his attitude. This really was not the way she wanted them to meet. “Uh, yeah.” His hand stuck out. “Hi, mister Molina.”

Dad shook it with a smile, fully relaxed now. “Ray. Nice to meet you.” The barista called out his name. “See you at home, Julie. Don’t stay out long, yeah?”

Her smile twitched and crashed the second he turned around, grabbed his coffee and closed the glass door. She groaned, dropping her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“I gotta be honest,” he whispered. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

Luke sighed. “I was okay being a secret before, but…”

She coaxed his jaw, needing him to look at her. “It’ll hurt more if I tell him and forces me to break up with you.”

For a moment, silence sunk onto the table, wedging itself like thick smoke between her and Luke. He seemed pensive, the green of his eyes peering. Suddenly, they lit up. “But wait, aren’t you getting your results? Early admission?”

She sagged in her seat, pouting. “If UCLA wants me.”

“They will,” he smiled. His arms wrapped around her. “Of course, they will. And if you get in, he can’t be mad that you’re dating me, right?”

Hope tinged her chest. She hasn’t considered that. She’s been so focused on Luke and trying to keep it hidden, that everything college-related went over her head. The letters and essays and interviews happened before she and Luke got serious, so with her being on that pink cloud ever since, school stress has been locked away. Why bother mulling over UCLA when she could be having fun with Luke?

If she locked in UCLA… then Luke might be right. And if not UCLA, then she’d hear of USC and NYU next year. (If they were even still together by the time those letters got in the mail.)

“You might’ve found the loophole,” she teased, hoping to lift the tension. And then she uttered out her biggest fear: “But if you haven’t… will you stay?”

His kiss answered her, soft and sweet and with a hint of blueberry muffin. A grin bloomed on her lips, burrowing her face in his shoulder. She felt it. That overflowing, unbridled adoration overwhelming her all at once. Julie loved him. It was April fourteenth and it only took her six months but Julie loved Luke. They stayed in the booth until they had to go home.

Her phone was mocking her. Luke and her were in her car, stagnant, as both stared at the white screen. Every few minutes, she refreshed it, yet no email came. Gah! Couldn’t colleges just send the email when they said they would? What was taking so long? Did that mean she didn’t get in? Was this a bad sign? It helped having Luke there, easing the rising stress that clenched her ribcage, but she wouldn’t be fully okay until that freaking email come through.

As if sensing her thoughts, he drummed against the dashboard. “It’s gonna be cool. You look great in blue and gold, you gotta get in.”

She giggled, nerves lacing her tone. “Imagine if that’s how you got in. You’d get into USC then.”

“Are you saying I look hot in red?”, he teased.

“You know you- oh my God!” She lurched for her phone as a new email pinged in, heartbeat stuttering in her ears. Frozen, her thumb hovered over the fated email. This would change everything - for better or for worse. She knew she should focus on the fact that it would determine where she’d go to college, but all she could think about was Luke, Luke, Luke. Was it selfish to care more about junior prom then UCLA? At this very moment, she thought it was completely justified.

She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t do it. You open it.”

His brows raised. “You sure?”

“Yeah-” She stuffed the phone in his hand and put her trembling ones on her lap. “-do it for me.”

Luke took a deep breath. Julie shut her eyes. Please. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please accept her. Please let her be with Luke.

Ten seconds passed. His voice gave nothing away. “Julie?”

“Just rip the band-aid off,” she choked out.

A familiar, calloused hand softly grabbed hers. Her eyes cracked open. Luke had the biggest smile on his face and it made her heart pop out of her chest. She bit down on her lip, fighting off a grin. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” he sang, reaching across the console to show her phone. You got accepted! blinked in bold, black letters. “You’re UCLA bound, baby!”

Euphoria burst out. Julie squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss. She got in! She fucking got into college! A great one at that! Another Molina was going for gold!

And it might even get her to date Luke without secrecy. God, she hoped this was enough. She wanted to do everything with him. All the time, the entire time. Flynn has called them clingy, but Julie just wanted to get rid of the anxiety of her dad finding out. To finally relax and be fully with him.

Her head tilted, bashful. “Is it crazy to say that I might be in love with you?”

He dropped her phone in the cupholder and peppered another kiss on her mouth. “No. That’s good.” His thumb traced her bottom lip, eyes glittering with adoration. “Cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too.”

She pecked his thumb, giddy. “Fuck it. Let’s tell my dad right now. About UCLA and you.”

He smiled. “You sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Storming inside the house, the couple made a beeline to her dad’s office, his hand in hers.

“Dad!”, she called out, door slamming open. Her startled father perked up in his seat, his wide eyes going from Julie to Luke right behind her. “I got into UCLA!”

Ray sprung up, cheering. “Mija-!”

“And I’m dating Luke!”, she yelled after. “And that’s okay, cause I got in, so you don’t have to worry about the rule anymore! So... ” She put her foot down, awkwardness creeping in her tone. “Yeah!”

Flabbergasted, dad faltered and let the cheers die in his throat. Luke came to stand next to her, squeezing her hand. Slowly, he nodded. “Ah… so that time in Eats & Beats-”

“A date,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry I went behind your back, papa, but I… really care about Luke. And we figured that if I got in, you’d stop enforcing the dating rule.”

His grap became even tighter. “I, uh, really care about her too,” Luke mustered. “Sorry that we kept it a secret.”

Ray sighed, propping his head in his hands and scrubbing the confusion away with his palms. The pair shot each other a look. He wasn’t mad, she deduced, so that was a good sign at least. Finally, dad moved again and gave her a tight hug. Her confidence grew, hugging him back and withholding a cry of victory.

He pulled back, crossing his arms with a hint of amusement. “Well… the rule clearly didn’t work, but you seem happy and you- you did actually get in, right?”

She laughed, nodding, and showed the confirmation email. His smile grew. “Then I guess,” he trailed, “you’re allowed. To date. But no funny business!”

Julie quickly nodded, grabbing back onto Luke’s arm and jostling him in excitement. Luke bounced on his heels, trying to temper it but failing miserably. She thanked her dad, promised him they’d celebrate her acceptance later tonight and rushed back out with Luke. Dad yelled something about establishing new rules, but both gleefully ignored it. Once in her bedroom, he snatched her into a tight embrace, kissing her full on the lips. Julie whooped against his mouth and danced between his arms. This might be the best day of her life! Luke was her real real real boyfriend!

“You heard your dad, Jules,” he teased. “No funny business.”

She pouted, faux-peeved. “You won’t get to climb through my window again.”

“Won’t have to hide in cars anymore.”

“Won’t have to say you’re just my classmate.”

Luke dragged them onto her bed, laying side by side. “I can take you to junior prom.”

She kissed him with a giggle. “You’re taking me to prom?”

“Hell yeah, I am!”, he bellowed, drumming his fingers against her hips. “Let your dad take pictures of us and everything.”

She scrunched her nose. “Let’s maybe not push him just yet.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, humming in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

Luke did that her to junior prom, to homecoming, to senior prom, called her hot in blue and gold and vetoed no when she begged him for a bright, blue velour couch for their first apartment. When someone asked her father what it was like, seeing his daughter find the one at sixteen, he had to admit with embarrassment red on his cheeks that it all flew under his radar.

That it all started with sneaky bleacher kisses and a hopeful heart.

@blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @sophiphi @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily

#can you tell i'm not american? because i can lol sorry for any inaccuracies regarding school #juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

Pavement

Part 2

Part one here

It was too hot. Whatever I was lying on had me sweating. I go to sit up, only to feel strong arms wrap around me, holding me close, a nose nuzzling into my hair.

It was then I remembered the night before, Halley inviting the band to stay the night with us. I lift my head to see two green eyes staring down at me. Harry smiles softly, the dark bags beneath his eyes making his eyes glow even more.

"Hi." He whispers, swallowing hard.

"Hi." I go to sit up again but he pulls me back down.

"Just stay...a minute longer please." I looked over to see everyone else still asleep and lay my head back down his heart beat drumming against my ear. I feel his fingers go to my hair, threading through it gently. "You know, you never told me what your favorite song was last night."

"The first one." I said immediately. "It was beautiful." I felt him chuckle, his chest rumbling.

"I like that one too." We laid like that in silence for a while longer, it felt nice to be held so firmly, our hearts pressed together. "So..." he finally said. "What do you normally do in the mornings?" I sighed.

"I get up and usually go roller blaring. Then I come home."

"Hmm. Never done that before....do you want to go?"

"What about everybody else?" I felt him shrug.

"Let em sleep. I wanna hang out with you." I sat up, climbing off him gently and stepping over Mitch and Sarah. He looked cute in the morning light, hair tousled, groggy.

"Okay," I said. "But I won't roller blade this time." I grabbed my Walkman. "I always have tunes with me.

I gave him one earbud as we left the apartment, walking side by side. This time Oasis 'Wonderwall' was playing. He took my hand, threading our fingers together as we walked.

"So, you never told me about your family." He said.

"Not much to tell," I kicked a pebble with my shoe. "Never knew my dad. My mom was my best friend."

"So you're close to your mum? Where's she?" I bit my lip, keeping my head down.

"She died...she had cancer. Passed away my first year of college."

"Oh," he said softly. "God, I'm sorry." I smiled at him sadly.

"It's okay...I miss her a lot, but music makes me feel connected to her."

"Music means a lot to you yeah?" I nodded.

"Music's the one thing that we shared the most. You can tell a person a lot with just one song you know?"

"Definetly." We continued walking, humming along to the music in the Walkman. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He said.

"You didn't. I'm glad you asked. I could talk about my mom all day."

"Me too. My mum is the greatest person I know." I grinned at him. The way he spoke about his mom was so sweet. Like she hung the moon in the sky.

"Where are you guys headed next? Got any more gigs?"

"Planning on showing up?" He teased. I laughed, shrugging my shoulders.

"Maybe...I'm definitely a fan."

"Glad to hear it....actually we're going to Malibu. Mitch has some friends there. Gonna start recording."

"That's great!"

"Yeah...maybe...maybe you could come out? It's not too far. We could go to the beach or something."

"Or something." He laughed, a light blush on his cheeks. "I think I'd like that."

We turned and headed back towards the apartment, stopping so I could flip the tape and start the other side.

"I was thinking too...maybe I'll make you a tape? Some of the music I like. If you wanted?" He looked so shy, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Totally. I'll make you one too." He surprised me, reaching out to wrap and arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side.

"I'm glad I met you." He said.

"Me too."

"Hey guys!" We looked up. Everyone was standing outside, Halley was smoking, Adam had an arm wrapped around her waist. "Where'd ya go?"

"For a walk." I said as we joined the group. I pulled out my headphone. Harry handed his to me. I wrapped them around my Walkman and shoved it into my pocket.

"Hey man, we gotta get going. I told Ben we'd be there by noon. We can grab breakfast on the way." Harry nodded, turning to me.

"Is it too much to ask for your number?" He asked me.

"I don't have a pen." I watched as he dug in his pocket, he pulled out a sharpie, handing it to me. I giggled.

"Of course." I took his hand, scribbling my number onto his palm.

"I'll call you later? Would that be alright?" I nodded. He opened his arms, letting me walk into his embrace. He held me tightly, rubbing my back. He placed a soft kiss to my hair before pulling away walking backwards towards the van, a large smile on his face. "See you soon?"

"See you soon."

"Now that was a girls night out." Halley gushed as we went back into the apartment. I grinned, shaking my head.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun." She was smirking at me. "What?"

"I saw you and Harry got along pretty well." I rolled my eyes, going to the fridge.

"He's nice.....we talked about a lot of stuff."

"And you gave him your number."

"And I gave him my number. So what?"

"When was the last time you went out?" She asked, coming to stand beside me. I paused, setting the orange juice I had gotten out down. "Before your mom died?" I looked up at her, she wasn't being cruel. Her words were soft, gentle.

"Yeah." I answered quietly. She put her arm around me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I would never tell you to rush into something....but maybe...give him a chance? He seems like a really good guy." I smiled, nudging her with the side of my head before picking up the orange juice again.

"So I saw you and Adam got pretty cozy." She giggled.

"Girl don't get me started."

I had a wedding in Malibu. Nobody I knew personally, but a photography gig. I woke up early the morning after I'd given Harry my number, brushed my teeth, got dressed, grabbed a bagel and headed out the door. The bride had wanted pre wedding photos of her getting ready. I always loved those, they were fun. Before and after pictures to keep as memories forever.

"I'm so nervous."

"Don't be. You look gorgeous."

I listened here and there to the conversations, zoning out slightly as my mind flitted back to Harry.

I hadn't let myself like anyone since my mom died. It was hard to even think about dating when she was sick, my days filled with medications and prayers. Hoping against hope that she would get better. I did have a boyfriend at that time. But he couldn't handle the depression that washed over me after she was gone. He left me a week after the funeral and I'd been alone since. Five years.

But there was something about the singer I'd met. He seemed so kind and patient. It made me wary, as much as I wanted him to call me I didn't. I wasn't sure I was ready to try and find love again. I didn't want to put my faith in another person for them to walk away from me again.

The reception was gorgeous. On the beach, white tables and chairs, sunflowers and Rose's. I took pictures of everything. The bride and room cutting the cake, the garter, all of it. I couldn't help but laugh at the best man's toast and tear up at the maid of honor's tribute to the bride. It was beautiful.

I leaned against a table, looking back through photos I had taken as a slow dance had people dancing.

"Summer? No way." My heart dropped to my stomach at the sound of a familiar British accent. I turned to see Harry. He wore a black and white floral suit, his hair slicked back, a huge grin on his face.

"Hey," I said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Matt and Emma are friends of Mitch. They invited him to the wedding and we thought we'd crash it." He pulled me into a gentle hug. "What are you doing here?" He asked. I held up my camera.

"Photography. It's my calling."

"I thought you were a music gal?"

"I am," I fondled my camera, looking away from him, his eyes were so intense, his attention fully on me. "But I like photography room I freelance and do wedding shoots when I can." He nodded.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure." He took my hand, his rings were cold but his skin warm as he pulled me towards the refreshments. He poured me some punch.

"I'm assuming you don't drink when you're working?" I chuckled.

"Not on the job." I took a sip, looking out towards the bride and groom. "This is a beautiful wedding isn't it?"

"Yeah...you ever think about settling down one day?" I shook my head.

"Nah. I don't think anyone could put up with me forever."

"You never know." I hummed taking another sip of my drink. The song changed, Chord Overstreet's 'Hold On' beginning. "I love this song." Harry said softly.

"Me too."

"Do you want to dance?" He asked. I shook my head.

"I don't dance." He rolled his eyes, grabbing my hand again.

"Come on. I won't let you fall." I let him lead me out towards the others. He set my cup on a table, taking my hand in his once more and pulling me to him. I put one hand on his shoulder and he put his free hand on my waist. Our bodies pressed together as he began to rock slowly back and forth with me.

"If I step on your toes it's on you." He laughed again. I liked it, I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face.

"I'm willing to take one for the team love." He leaned down, pressing his cheek to mine. "I'm glad I ran into you. Was gonna call you tonight before we came out. But I guess this is fate." I scoffed slightly.

"I don't believe in fate." I said.

"Maybe I can change your mind." He let go of my hand, spinning me out and twirling me back to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face into his shoulder. He smelled like apples and cinnamon.

"You smell nice." I said before I could stop myself. His thumbrubbed slow circles on my back.

"Thank you," he pulled back, our noses brushing a he looked down at me. My heart thudding in my chest as he looked down at my lips. "I want to kiss you." He said softly.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I like you." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," I blushed. "O...okay." i was nervous. But the way he was looking at me, his eyes filled with desire and a softness no one had ever looked at me like that before. He brushed his nose against mine, hesitating for a moment.

"Is this alright?" He asked again. I nodded. Fuck it. I really liked him.

"Yes." He pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and pillowy, molding with mine perfectly. He didn't force or probe, keeping his mouth closed as he peppered kisses along the side of my mouth and over my lips. I gripped his shirt, letting myself fall into what I was feeling, the way my stomach tightened and my legs felt like jello. A kiss that good only came once in a lifetime.

He looked at me again when he pulled away, the song had ended, a faster one started, yet we moved slowly, as though we were the only two people there.

"Hey!" I jumped at the harsh voice, turning to see the bride's mother looking at me annoyed. "We aren't paying you to dance sweetie. You're here for pictures." I felt my face heat up as Harry let me go.

"It's my fault ma'am. I asked her to dance." I looked back at him. He leaned down, kissing me again. "I'll let you get back to work....And I'll call you tomorrow." I nodded, picking up my camera and moving to the other side of the party, the feel of his lips still tattooed on my own.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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inceptionbigbang · 5 years

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The complete list of fics available for the Inception Big Bang 2019 is here!

Works are numbered, without the authors names to preserve the mystery. Artists, when you're ready to make your decision send us an email or a tumblr message with your top 3 choices. Fics will be claimed depending on availability, on a first come first served basis.

On this round we will only assign one artist per fic. Artists that wish to claim a second fic, or that wish to work on a fic that has already been claimed should check out the second round, on July 2nd. All fics will be open for all.

Without further delay, here they are:

1. Arthur and Eames meet as trust fund teens in a Manhattan private school. Eames is a new student who's just moved from overseas, and him and Arthur hit it off immediately. Friendship turns to a whirlwind summer romance, until Eames is forced to move back to London. They meet again many years later when Arthur has to kidnap Eames for a job.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up

No content warnings apply

2. A songfic featuring Aubrey by Bread, studying Arthur and Eames and what their relationship might have been like before the Fischer job. The characters aren't going to resemble fanon (Arthur's closed-off persona and Eames's flirtiness). I'm going to try to expand more on what Nolan gave us during the movie (Arthur's straightforwardness and Eames's aloof/cold personality). Basically, Eames is distant and Arthur chases.

Arthur/Eames

Side: Dom/Mal

Teen and Up - Mature

Graphic Depictions of Violence*

* There might be a torture scene, but I'm still debating on whether or not I want that in the story.

3. A fic about arthur and eames and their first meeting in the military to all their other meetings in the criminal underworld of dreamshare. not that long, i'm aiming for 2.5k or maybe 3k if i can. i wanted to focus on their totems and how eames could use forging as a totem (because if he can't forge then he must be awake, right?) but he has a totem just in case. and arthur has a totem (the die from the movie) that he uses a lot more except when he happens to be taken and tortured for some secret or another and the only thing that convinces his brain that he isn't dreaming is the way eames stands when arthur aims a gun at him? if that makes sense....

here's a little bit of what i have written so far:

he’s more surprised at the lack of surprise he feels when eames digs a poker chip out of his desk. its blood red with gold and white accents, worth five thousand dollars at the particular casino it came from, disregarding the fact that it was arthur’s shitty first and last attempt at a real world forge after he participated in a poker game eames held on base many years ago and realized half the chips in the set were fake, pocketing a one thousand dollar chip to use as a reference.

“our totems match,” eames murmurs, flipping the chip over his knuckles with a concentration a bit too intense for something he could do in his sleep (ha).

“match how?” he asks, sipping a glass of orange juice, freshly squeezed because eames wanted to use the electric juicer. he's tempted to pull out his die from his pocket and roll to see it land on five, even though he knows this isn’t a dream.

“i have something that you made, and you have something i made. also, there’s some significance with the number five.”

Arthur/Eames

Side: Dom/Mal

Mature

Graphic Depictions of Violence*

*I put the Graphic Depictions of Violence just to be safe but i think it's less than what's shown in the film? because it's supposed to be like an after-torture scene where arthur is like "ouch i'm super hurt and drugged and don't know if i'm dreaming" but again i don't think it's any more graphic than the film at least. might keep that tag just to be safe though idk

4. When dreamshare is first developed, no one has totems. They've always gone into dreams for short amounts of time and always with another person, so there's no chance of someone forgetting their reality. Mal's friend Pip has consistently been pushing the boundaries of dreaming, and one day she decides to go a later deeper without Mal. When Mal wakes up, she realizes that Pip is still asleep and she has to go down after her where she basically incepts Pip with the idea of totems.

Gen

General audiences

No content warnings apply

5. There was a small lake behind Arthur's house. The following night, he sat at its edge and stared at the moon's reflection in the water.

See something you like?

Arthur turned. A man was sitting next to him.

"Hello," Arthur said. "Thank you for helping me get home last night."

The moon smiled. "How did you know it was me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water, watching the waves ripple the reflection. "How can you be here and there at the same time?"

The moon leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. "Same way I can be in the lake and the sky at the same time."

Arthur frowned. "That's not the same thing. The lake's just reflecting the light from the moon. From you."

The moon turned to smile brightly at him. "Well aren't you a smart one, hm?" He leaned in and whispered, "I'm a reflection, too. We all are, at the end of the day."

Arthur thought about that. It didn't make sense, but that didn't mean it was wrong. He looked up at the moon in the sky, then at the moon sitting next to him.

"My name's Arthur," he offered. "What's your name?"

The moon looked at him strangely. "Eames. You can call me Eames."

"I'm going to be an astronaut, Eames," Arthur said. "Then I can come and visit you in the sky."

Eames smiled again. Arthur wouldn't have thought the moon liked to smile. "I would like that very much," Eames said. "Very much, indeed."

Arthur/Eames

General – Teen and Up

No content Warnings Apply

This fic is a canon AU and will ultimately include the events in Inception.

6. Eames on vacation after inception and stumbling upon Arthur; floppy haired, tanned and just completely the opposite of how Eames has ever seen him before.

Hawaii looked good on him, no better than good...

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up – Mature

No content warnings apply

7. It’s a follow up story to Cat Person.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040948

First story summary:

Arthur misses his cat and would very much like to get another. He gets Eames instead.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up

No content warnings apply

Set in the Star Trek Universe

8. This is an academia AU! Arthur is a struggling young professor trying to find his niche, Eames is the mysterious colleague he keeps (inadvisedly!) hooking up with at conferences.

Arthur/Eames

Mature

No content warnings apply

9. When Eames first moved to America, he was at a loss for things to cook. He wasn’t used to the supermarkets and ingredients he needed were expensive. So he Googled food bloggers and found Arthur’s blog. The weekly updates keep Eames going in his boring office job. It takes him a few months before he gets the courage to comment but it’s all downhill from there. Eames is lost with Arthur’s sardonic commentary and when Arthur’s next recipe is one Eames requested, he knows he’s in bad.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up – Mature

No content warnings apply

10. Arthur is a flight attendant. Eames is a passenger.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up – Mature

No content warnings apply

11. Haunted House AU. Arthur’s working at a popular horror maze escape place to make some extra money over the summer. It’s far from his dream job—making minimum wage crouching behind dark trap doors and chasing random couples and tourists—but at least he gets to vent his frustrations about his coworkers (who are, frankly, driving him insane day by day) by literally screaming at customers. Then there’s Eames, who finds haunted houses boring, overrated, and not the least bit frightening, but is willing to humor a friend (Ariadne?) by accompanying her. But an encounter (and some painfully obvious flirting) with the cute guy under the ghoul mask is enough to make him want to come back again, and again, and again—

FEATURING:

- Cobb as the owner/boss and the only guy who actually takes his job seriously. He probably squints a lot because sunlight genuinely hurts his eyes lmao - Mal as his wife, who used to be an actress but left to start a business with Dom. Super sweet and kind of protective of their employees. Plays the main ghost. She’s terrifying. - Yusuf doing their costumes and makeup!!!!

- Arthur getting the job in the first place because his screams are so full of rage (let! him! rest!)

- Eames blowing all his cash on haunted house admission fees so he can flirt with Arthur (who plays different roles on different days, maybe? but Eames can always recognize him, even under the masks/makeup)

- he’s not trying to be creepy, he just wants to ask if he can see him outside of work/get his number—but something always goes wrong before he can

- Arthur being frustrated because Eames is a) distracting, and b) not easily scared, which doesn’t look good for his job. And it annoys him because he has a track record of being able to freak out anyone. He takes it upon himself to make him scream at least once (I haven’t decided how he does, but he does, eventually. Eames probably jokes about screaming with something other than fear, but i am too babey to write any sexytimes)

- maybe??? mild h/c?? Dumbass Drunk College Students coming in all wanting to prove to their friends that they're the Alpha Male, picking a fight and being super violent/rowdy/destructive, + arthur getting hurt/generally kind of shaken up; that’s the first night he lets eames really talk to him outside of the job, maybe even lets him take him home (i dont know if im including this scene for sure but..perhaps)

- Ariadne getting them banned from the haunted house after reflexively slapping Arthur in the face with a rubber snake (Cobb takes the ‘no touching the actors’ rule seriously—especially after what happened^). Eames thinks he’s lost his chance for good, but Arthur finds him outside and finally makes the first move :)

Arthur/Eames

General – Teen and Up

No content warnings apply

12. Arthur is in love with Eames, and he's pretty sure Eames is at least interested in him back. Only problem? Arthur is ace, and not at all sure how Eames is going to react to that. But Arthur's going to talk to him about it, because the alternative is to lose even his friendship with the forger, and that's just not on.

Only the team is also determined to set the two of them up. Will that end up being a wrecking ball to Arthur's fragile attempts at making things work with Eames?

STORY OUTLINE:

Arthur is ace, and no one knows. When Eames invites Arthur to join him for Christmas, Arthur panics and says no - and spends the whole of Christmas regretting it. The team comes back from Christmas break, and everything is awkward. Arthur knows he has to say something or ruin his relationship with Eames forever, and he's going to do that at the New Year's party where Eames will hopefully be in a good enough

But unbeknownst to him, he's not the only one who's realized something needs to happen. Cobb, Ariadne and Yusuf agree that an intervention is in order. And when better to set their two friends up than at New Years? Get them kissing and surely the tension between them will resolve itself.

What could possibly go wrong?

At the New Year's party, Ariadne suggests playing a game of spin the bottle. Arthur is less than enthused, but Cobb and Yusuf both back up the idea. They play a few rounds before it lands on Eames, whom Ariadne dares to make out with Arthur.

There's an awkward beat before Eames moves to do it. Arthur reacts by freezing and shying away physically. Eames takes this a rejection and leaves the room. Arthur sits there, frozen, and then leaves too.

He goes to the bathroom and breaks down, blaming himself for being so stupid and backwards. Eames hears him, and comes in and comforts him. Once Eames realizes what the problem is - that Arthur is ace - he promises Arthur that it doesn't matter to him, he just wants to be close to him. Cue happy end credits.

Arthur/Eames

General

No content warnings apply

13. Arthur learned a long time ago that he was special, and no else could see the strings.

Or, ‘everything is still the same, but Arthur can see Red Strings of Fate’ AU.

There are moments when Arthur thinks he needs to tell Eames about the strings. Owes him the truth, he thinks, Eames deserves to know. Other times – well.

Eames knows enough, and he has secrets of his own. Arthur is allowed this one.

Maybe someday it will come up on Sunday brunch, or something.

“Oh yeah, by the way, I can see red strings that I’m pretty sure are tied up to being literal soulmates and we have one. Get it? Tied up hehe. Anyway, no pressure or anything. Love the sex.”

Yeah, Arthur, that would go lovely.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up – Mature

No content warnings apply

Ok folks, the next fics are or may eventually get explicit. Minors, we love you guys! Stay safe. Don’t claim them.

14. Arthur has a goldfish which, long story short, he has convinced himself he only needs to keep alive to prove he is not a hot mess. Except now it’s not looking so good and has a weird sore on its side and he doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just let it DIE. So he takes it to the vet and is scoffed at and told it is a feeder goldfish, they cost less than a dollar, just get a new one.

Two vets later and he’s at the end of his rope when he meets Dr Eames, whose dog is introduced as his PA and goes on all his rounds with him. Dr Eames doesn’t even question it, just starts the exam and tells Arthur to pet the dog and start at the beginning while he works.

Arthur/Eames

Teen and Up – Mature - Explicit

No Content warnings apply*

* Discussions of parental death.

15. Eames is working with Arthur the first time in a long while, only now it seems that he has a huge crush on Arthur. He doesn't know how else to get rid of the crush and he really can't concentrate on the job when he's thinking about Arthur all the time, so he asks Arthur to have sex with him, to get the crush out of his system. Arthur agrees surprisingly easily and sex is great, but afterwards Arthur doesn't seem happy and Eames' crush is worse than ever. The more Eames tries to get rid of his crush, the more it sticks, and the less Arthur is talking to him. After the job, Eames has some time to think and he realises that maybe neither of them really wanted for him to get over Arthur. He goes to see Arthur to talk to him about it, but they end up kissing and stuff as well.

Arthur/Eames

Mature – Explicit

No content warnings apply

16. Summary: Eames hasn't seen Arthur in almost four years.

Pseudo- Winter Soldier AU.

There's no response from Arthur, no recognition in his eyes. No banter, no teasing – a coldness that would leave any lesser man with severe frostbite.

"... Arthur?" The words sound so raw, so gutted in Eames’ mouth. "Are you-" are you alive? Are you dead? Am I dreaming?

He reaches for his poker chip.

But before he can trace the ridges for the familiar grooves, a shot rings out loud like a crack of lightning.

And the last thing that Eames sees is Arthur and how he always remembers him: in his whip-black suit and a smoking gun in his hand.

Bang.

A single bullet tears through Eames' temples, and he is ripped open, pain lighting every nerve in his body like a pinball machine – and he prays to god that this is merely a dream so he can finally wake up.

Arthur/Eames

Mature – Explicit

No content warnings apply

17. “Taxiing an injured delivery boy around the neighbourhood to help him complete his remaining orders had not been a contender on Eames’ list of potential scenarios for the night. Instead of the morose teenager bleeding onto the synthetic leather of the passenger seat, and the short stack of pizza boxes sliding to and fro across the backseat, the Brit had rather imagined his rental car would serve far more nefarious purposes tonight." -- Essentially, Pizza Delivery Porn Guy Crack A/E AU. Aim: comedic tone with bowchikkawowow.

*Arthur isn't the teenager. He is a customer who ordered pizza.

Arthur/Eames

Mature – Explicit

No content warnings apply*

*There is mention of a traffic accident - no detail, but it might not be someone's cup of tea. Also, not yet at the sexual scene so don't know whether I'll stop at M or go to E.

18. In the court of the vampire supreme Saito, ambitious human noblemen Eames and Arthur battle for the coveted position of favorite bestower. Winner takes life everlasting.

Arthur/Saito

Side: Arthur/Eames

Arthur/Dom Cobb

Eames/Saito

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Bloodplay, Extreme Sadomasochism. Possible Necrophilia

19. Arthur is an undercover narcotics officer posing as a high school senior. Eames is his teacher, who is taken with Arthur and who feels terrible for lusting after a student. Arthur takes down the bad guys, saves Eames' life, then they smash (after Eames finds out he's a fully grown adult person).

Arthur/Eames

Explicit

No content warnings apply*

*Eames is (shamefully) interested in Arthur, who he thinks is 18 and also his student.

20. Pre-movie: Dom and Mal are a dominant/dominant couple who want to find a sub they can play with together. Arthur is interested in trying to fill that role.

Arthur/Dom Cobb/Mal Cobb

Mature – Explicit

No content warnings apply*

*BDSM, bondage, dominance/submission, spanking/flogging, roleplay.

#inception #arthur x eames #inception big bang #inception big bang 2019 #inceptiversary

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sciencenewsforstudents · 5 years

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Science News for Students is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the moon landing, which passed in July, with a three-part series about Earth’s moon. In part one, Science News reporter Lisa Grossman visits rocks brought back from the moon. Look for part two in October and part three in November. And check out our archives for this story about Neil Armstrong and his pioneering 1969 moonwalk.

HOUSTON, TEXAS — Through glass windows, I can see rocks and trays of dirt that Apollo astronauts brought to Earth decades ago. But my tour guides here at NASA’s Johnson Space Center are firm: Nobody touches the moon rocks!

I’ve spent years looking at cosmic rocks from a distance. My childhood involved lots of stargazing through a telescope. My lab job in college involved processing pictures of Mars. So this trip is a big deal for me. I’ve been itching to scoop up a handful of alien sand and let it run through my fingers. Today, the opportunity feels as close as it is unlikely.

Before entering this clean room, I remove all of my jewelry, including my wedding ring. My guides and I cover our shoes with blue paper booties and step into full-body jumpsuits. Their zippers go from navel to neck. Snaps close openings at the ankles, wrists and throat. Once in these white bunny suits, we put on neoprene gloves and a hair cover. Then we pull up a pair of knee-high boots over the blue booties. Finally, we spend a full minute standing in a phone booth–sized air shower. A steady breeze there blows from ceiling to floor, clearing us of any lingering dust.

Inside the clean room, I face another barrier: The rocks are stored in secure, pressurized cabinets. They look like big terrariums, in this case filled with pure nitrogen. The only way to reach the samples is by sticking already-gloved hands into another set of gloves that wave from the cabinets like zombie arms.

Only five people in the world get to routinely handle these precious pebbles, explains sample processor Charis Krysher. She’s one of them. But even Krysher and the lucky few can’t touch the samples directly. To pick up an Apollo rock, Krysher must either use stainless steel tweezers or slide her fingers into a third set of gloves made of Teflon.

“You do lose quite a bit of dexterity,” she says. “You get used to it, but it takes practice.”

All this effort is to protect 382 kilograms (842 pounds) of rocks, core samples, pebbles, sand and dust. They were lifted from the moon during the six Apollo landings between 1969 through 1972. Those priceless samples are still offering fresh details about how the moon — and the entire solar system — formed and evolved. The rocks have revealed the rough ages of all the rocky planets’ surfaces. They also have informed debate about whether an ancient reshuffling of the outer planets caused a bombardment of meteorites on Earth.

“One of the biggest misconceptions is that the Apollo samples aren’t being studied anymore, and that the Apollo samples only tell us about the moon,” says Ryan Zeigler. “Neither of those is true,” notes this curator of the Apollo samples.

In fact, NASA will be opening a cache of untouched samples for new studies this year, in honor of the 50th anniversary of the July 20, 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing.

youtube

Science News astronomy writer Lisa Grossman went behind the scenes at NASA’s pristine-sample lab in Houston this spring to view moon rocks up close — as close as non-astronauts can get. Science News/ NASA

#science #scied #sciblr #lunar landing #Apollo #moon landing #moon rocks #NASA

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lizzenilssen · 5 years

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Is that KRISTINE FROSETH on campus? Oh no, that’s ELIZABETH NILSSEN-LEVIN. From QUEENS, NYC, the 21 year old has come to study FILM AND MEDIA STUDIES (major) & CLASSIC LITERATURE (minor). Rumor has it she is OPTIMISTIC and PRO-ACTIVE, but GULLIBLE and INCONSISTENT, which is why she is known as THE FLIGHT RISK. She resides in BROADVIEW RESIDENCE HALL and can’t wait to graduate.

hi! i wanna introduce us both lizze and i so i’m ailie (she/her), i’m 20yrs old aaaaaand study circus!! gmt -3 timezone (south america ayyyyy) and this is my sweet dotter lizze.

elizabeth, or lizze, lizzie, liz, eli, what-the-fuck-ever, was born in new york, lived her entire life at the same two-bedroom apartment with only her father and their two cats, pebble and susie - clearly both named by lizze as a child.

her mother bailed on them when lizze was about five, out to pursue a bigshot career on TV, that quickly flunked and ended up with her doing bad late-night commercials that were better off when forgotten. “levin” is her last name, and altho it’s on lizze’s ID, she rarely ever goes by it. yes, also, that’s a jewish last name, even if all lizze knows about that religion is food.

her father, a working class auto mechanic rooted on his habits, took on the role of single parent nearly seamlessly - at least in lizze’s POV. he didn’t always get it right the first try, but what parent does? what he did, however, was nurture lizze with stories, and projects, and fantasies about the future.

all throughout her life, lizze wasn’t either here nor there in social settings. she’s not an introvert per se, but definitely not an extrovert. just... in that limbo where one can participate to an extent and enjoy her own company and recharge, also to an extent.

her grades however were, as a constant, above the average, to the point of graduating high school in the honor board. how? she’s not even sure. plus, being part of the debate team, the chess club, the feminist book-and-debate club (which she co-founded), the swim team (shortlived dream), drama club and dance classes outside, along with charity work.

to be fair, she also had just about three actual friends. after trying -and failing- to be a “popular” girl, lizze found her place among the simple peasants of the kingdom of public school of queens, nyc. with so many activities, she knew so many people, but didn’t really get to be that close to many.

during summers, she was a counselor in kids camps, and during schooltime would work part-time at the fro-yo near school.

when she graduated, she had been accepted into a few colleges, offering her percentages of scholarships, and she chose Monarch U., first going into it with a BIOSCIENCE MAJOR, which she changed after just two months and too much caffeine.

she then decided to... really, like, look at what she liked, truly liked, and decided on a major and a minor that seemed could keep her mind focused and not bail at the first sign of discomfort.

all in all, however, lizze is a sweet, mom-friend type of girl that has more books than will to live in the mornings, goes to morning classes in her tweety PJs and oversized tees of long-lost exes because oversized shirts, and knows all the lines to mamma mia and every disney movie ever. she works two jobs, one out of need (york’s) and another out of, well, need but also pleasure (the darkroom), studies film & media and classic literature, and takes pictures of every cute animal she sees on the street, meaning all her snapchat and insta stories are super WholesomeTM.

definitely one of those “awkward but charming” people that aren’t even aware they’re getting hit on, and when they realize it’s just... fatally embarrassing. serial blusher. bad dad jokes and puns all the way.

aaaaaaaaaaaand member of the theatre club!

smol facts#

hopeless romantic in spite of hating the compulsive cishetmonogamy normatives

played sega games all her childhood and still does, likes other videogames but nothing like oldschoolin’ it

quit smoking but ~vapes. weed user af.

is super afraid of moths, the sound of crickets unsettles her, has so many potted plants.

she has a nikon camera that’s practically always with her

#compulsivejournaling, #moleskin, #pastelhighlighters, #calligraphy

her favorite movie is american beauty, yes she knows that’s a cliché

is #past pretending to be cold and detached, but also how does one Not Run TF Away From Attachments? yes, a commitmentphobe to a new fckn’ degree

sagittarius sun, pisces moon, gemini rising & venus ~

def not straight, so she wants to say bisexual? but also she’s ????????

-------------------------------------- •

so like, that’s lizze! if you would like to plot, pls like this and i’ll dm you!

i definitely would love connections, whether already uni or before-MU connections!!

(best friend/s, bf/exes, #wecouldvehaditalls, friend/s!!!!!, academic competition, person-that-lives-across-the-hall, anythin!!)

#monarchintro #* intro.#suuuuuuppp!!

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amillionsmiles · 6 years

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like we’re made of starlight (Peter/Lara Jean)

Summary: “Lara Jean, you’re a person before anything else. I stopped having a perfect image of you in my head a long time ago.” / Peter and Lara Jean go camping in December to catch the Geminids. Oneshot. A/N: squeaking by and getting this in before the new year, whoo! belated bday fic for @adribug . I’m a little rusty writing for these two but I hope you enjoy some couple fluff >.<

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.

I have this theory about love.

It involves layers—so that a relationship might have its gooey childhood phase, and then its teenage years, and if you're lucky you eventually get to the sweet, solid outer coating of an adult kind of love.

"Like an onion," Peter says, the first time I bring this up.

I frown. "I was thinking more like… candy. Like a tootsie pop. Or…" I look out the window, to where the dense green forest blurs by, a solid backdrop behind the other cars whizzing down the highway. "Or tree rings. So if you sliced a relationship, you'd be able to see its stages of growth. And the deeper the feelings, the wider the ring. Or maybe width should be determined by the length of time…" I'm puzzling through the specifics of my metaphor now, wondering what my relationship with Peter would look like, if it were documented in tree rings.

"Like that lab we did in environmental science," Peter says, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

I feel a bit bad that he's driving, especially since he already drove four hours to pick me up from school. "Y'all are gross," my friend Marcie said when we found him waiting at the Old Well. Marcie's like that. I introduced her to Peter the first time he came to visit, back in early October; she gave him a hard time then, but I could tell it was because she was testing him. By the end of the day, he'd definitely passed.

Today, we spent some time walking around so Peter could stretch his legs and eat a late lunch, and then it was back in the car. There's supposed to be a big meteor shower tonight—the Geminids—and Peter and I thought it'd be fun to actually camp out to see them, in the woods with a tent and everything. We made reservations at Jones Lake State Park, which is about two hours away. I couldn't have planned it more perfectly; our schedules are both wide open because of Reading Day, though I still have two finals coming up later this week, and Peter has one.

I offered to drive, but Peter had to take the van in order to fit our camping gear, and I'm not as good at handling bigger cars. I make up for it by feeding Peter bites of the special sandwiches I prepared: muffaleta with an olive-oregano-onion mix, pepperoni, prosciutto, and provolone. As Peter pulls away, chewing, several crumbs stick to the corner of his mouth.

"So where are we in all of this?" he asks.

"What?"

"You said there was teenage love and then there was 'adult love.' Which one are we?"

I consider. We're both technically adults, in the barest sense of the word, and I can see how a semester at college has already changed us. College Peter has gotten more muscular from all his lacrosse practice. He moves with less swagger—not in a bad way, but as if he doesn't have as much to compensate for. It's a quieter kind of confidence, which I like.

But then, of course, there are all the ways that College Peter is exactly the same. He still calls me at night, right before either of us falls asleep. He still smells like Dove soap, the soft, clean boy-scent I've come to associate with comfort, and he still makes my heart beat fast when he looks over with that crooked smile of his, the light from the dying sun catching in his eyes.

I tap a finger against my lips and smile back, considering.

"I'm still figuring out," I say.

*.*.*.*

We get to the park an hour before closing.

Loose sticks and gravel crunch under our tires as we pull into our campsite. I'm out of the car as soon as Peter parks, marveling at our view.

"Peter, look, isn't it gorgeous?" We're right by the shore of the lake; in front of me stretch the placid waters, like a mirror of the sky. The surface is so still it looks like glass—I feel like if I throw a pebble at it, I'll shatter something.

Peter grunts as he starts to unload our equipment. I hurry to help him. The food takes some time to get organized. Even though it's just the two of us, I wanted the full experience, so I bought all the ingredients for s'mores. Then there are the sandwiches I made for us to eat for dinner, with plenty of extras because I know Peter will get hungry. Finally, the burritos I prepared for breakfast tomorrow, wrapped neatly in foil so that we can just heat them over the fire.

The tent takes a little more work, but we get it finished in time to watch the sunset. The meteors aren't expected to become visible until 7:30 PM, and they probably won't be at their peak until well past that, so Peter and I entertain ourselves with a puzzle and a deck of cards. I've recently started watching magic tricks on YouTube and figure that Peter's a good a person to try them out on, mostly because I know how to distract him.

All in all, things are going well, up until I need to use the restroom and remember that we're in the middle of nowhere.

When I bring this up, Peter looks unconcerned. "Just go in the woods, Lara Jean, haven't you ever been camping before?"

"Of course I have!" Twice. "But it's all dark and cold outside, and the trees are too far apart. I'll feel exposed."

"There's nobody around. And you'll be out in the open for five minutes, tops."

"Easy for you to say, you're a boy. You can just—" I pantomime the motion with my hands, which makes Peter redden slightly. His eyes dart around the tent, looking anywhere but at my face. After a beat, he heaves a sigh and gets to his feet, grabbing his fleecy orange and blue Cavaliers blanket.

"What are you doing?" I stare at him blankly.

Peter stares right back. "Coming with you. I'll hold up the blanket as a screen so you can do your…" he gestures aimlessly, "…business."

"Oh." My voice goes small. "Well, that's okay—"

Too late. Peter has a hand on the small of my back now and uses it to usher me out of the tent. I barely manage to grab the bag of wet wipes before we're both out in the cold, tucking our chins against our necks and hunching over to keep warm. Peter sets the pace; meanwhile, I stumble after him with the flashlight, casting a wobbly yellow beam on the ground in front of us.

Camping out in a cozy tent under the stars in order to catch a meteor shower? Romantic. Having your boyfriend accompany you into the woods so that you don't have to pee alone in the dark? Admittedly less so.

"Is this good?" Peter stops and looks back at me, gesturing toward a copse of trees. If I squint, I can make out the light of our campfire in the distance, but we're far enough away that if I shut off the flashlight we'll be plunged into relative darkness. I do that now, handing over the flashlight to Peter and fumbling blindly with all my layers. Margot taught me that it helps to find a thin tree trunk to hold onto for balance—then you can sit back just like you'd do at home.

Behind me, there's a rustle: Peter holding up his makeshift blanket-screen.

"Don't look!" I hiss.

"I can't see anything to begin with," Peter argues, but I know he probably has his eyes squeezed shut anyways. The air is biting cold against my skin, the woods eerily quiet, and I'm suddenly self-conscious. It's a weird feeling, to be made vulnerable by something so—mundane, as Margot would call it.

"Can you also, like—cover your ears?"

"Lara Jean," Peter says, and it's in his I'm trying very hard to be patient voice. "Look, you're a person before anything else. I stopped having a perfect image of you in my head a long time ago. Just pee."

I pause. "That's… actually really sweet, Peter."

"Always the tone of surprise," Peter grumbles, but I can tell he's pleased.

We know each other well, that way.

*.*.*.*

"Remember the poem you gave me junior year, for Valentine's Day?"

I say this with my ear pressed against Peter's chest, trying to hear his heartbeat through the puffy jacket he's wearing. From this angle, it's easy to pretend we're in a snowglobe—the sky seems to curve over us like a dome, the stars suspended like tiny flakes of glitter. Peter shifts to put his hand behind his head.

"The moon never beams without bringing me dreams / Of beautiful Lara Jean. / And stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes / of beautiful Lara Jean," he recites. "I'm still flattered that you thought I could come up with that, even for a second."

"It's not too late to start trying now," I say, batting my eyelashes at him.

Peter laughs. I like that I can feel the rumble of it right against my cheek, all warm and chocolatey. He's been fiddling with my hair—one of his fingers gets caught in a snag and he untangles it gently, the way Kitty taught him how. I file that gesture away. When I have a daughter, I'll tell her: it's important to be with someone who has careful hands.

"Maybe I'll take a creative writing class next semester," muses Peter. "And then I really will write you an actual poem."

"I'll keep it framed in my room if you do," I tell him seriously.

"Speaking of rooms, you never ended up helping me decorate mine, by the way. It needs some of your…" His hand flails. "Pizzazz."

I giggle. "Say that again."

"Pizzazz?"

"Cute." I pinch his cheek, which makes Peter roll his eyes. "What kind of vibe were you thinking?"

"I don't know." Peter's brow furrows. "Some string lights might be cool, for starters. I like the ones you have. Maybe not in pink, though."

"We can look through Pinterest together," I promise. "And then we'll go—oh, Peter, did you see that?"

"Yeah," Peter says, and then we're both pushing ourselves up on our elbows, craning our necks. More silver flashes streak across the sky, like the briefest glimpse of fish scales. A parade of meteors, of falling stars.

On the blanket, Peter's hand covers mine. He squeezes.

"Make a wish."

*.*.*.*

We go back inside the tent at around 2 AM. Cheeks numb from the cold, I immediately kick off my shoes and pull on an extra pair of socks before wriggling into my sleeping bag. Peter is close behind, already yawning, and as I turn to watch him, I realize that this is the first full night we're spending together, all by ourselves. No curfews, no one waiting for us to come home. I don't even know if Peter snores, which is a strange thing to think about, a piece of information you wouldn't expect to be missing after dating someone for almost three years—after knowing them for even longer.

And what if he does snore? What if it's so loud it keeps me awake all night so that I'm cranky and can't stand to look at his pretty-boy face in the morning? And what might he learn about me, up close?

"Go to sleep, Lara Jean." Peter grumbles, his eyes shut. "I can feel you looking at me."

Scoffing, I retort, "You like being looked at." And then I roll closer, so that we're almost nose to nose, our knees bumping gently against each other, swaddled in our sleeping bags.

Maybe this is the difference between teenage love and adult love. Shedding the mystery and the allure of nighttime for the promise of morning, when we'll be at our barest. The bad breath and the messy hair and the little annoyances; the wanting to be close in spite of it all. Or maybe it's all the same in the end, night bleeding into day, and I don't need any more theories when I have the real deal right here, sleeping soft and slow. Waiting for me when I wake up.

I close my eyes.

#tatbilb #covinsky #peter kavinsky #lara jean song covey #otp: my first love story #jenny han #my writing #fanfiction #ff: tatbilb #anyways shirley !!! i can't believe how many years it's been #i'm so glad we finally got to meet irl and look forward to more meet ups #thank you for always being so funny and relatable and encouraging #hang in there and keep kicking ass at your pharm program !

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vixensheart · 7 years

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Moonlight

“The moon is the reflection of your heart and moonlight is the twinkle of your love.” -Debasish Mridha

Terra groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Her head hurt, her eyes sore, and she was pretty sure all the names were starting to blur together.

Eluetherodactylidae; the rain frogs.

Brevicipitidae; the other rain frogs.

Dendrobatidae; the poison dart frogs.

Bufonidae; toads.

Alsodidae; the...the…

Terra sighed and reached into the pile of notecards and pulled one out, flipping it over and scanning the back. Ah. The spiny chested frogs. Of course.

She heaved another sigh and flopped onto her back, ignoring the scattered notecards around her. Terra had no idea what possessed her to take a college level biology course, in particularly one revolving around herps, but alas here she was. It didn’t help that the teacher, or professor, in this case, wanted them to memorize the different families of amphibians. Terra was certain she’d never use this information ever, but what was she to do? College credit was college credit, after all.

And getting biology out of the way would certainly make things easier in the long run.

That didn’t make this any easier now, however, and she decided that a break was long overdue. Terra rolled of her bed, scattering more notecards about, and slipped out of her room.

The hallway was dark, with only the soft glow beneath her foster parents’ door as indication of their presence. It was pretty late; a click glance at her phone showed the time to be past midnight. But aside from the strain of studying, Terra didn’t feel tired.

She plucked her keys from the rack on the wall and quietly stepped outside, making sure to close the door gently behind her. The fresh salty air stung at her nostrils, and Terra smiled. She loved living by the sea. The air felt more energetic here.

Terra struck out down the sidewalk, enjoying the quiet bustle of the night. Despite the fact that it was midnight, cars whizzed past left and right, their bright headlights flashing briefly in Terra’s eyes. There were a few people out and about too; mostly clubbers or bar hoppers, though there were small pockets of sketchy strangers huddled near the dark alleyways. Terra simply held her head high, ignoring their wary stares.

She knew for a fact that she could take care of herself.

Her stomach rumbled, interrupting her thoughts. Terra shoved her hands in her pockets, checking for loose change, and she dodged across the street to a gas station. Once inside, she dove straight for the goldfish crackers.

Terra loved goldfish crackers. They were fun and tasty, an easy snack for a midnight wanderer. She snagged a bag of the rainbow colored ones, her favorites, and got into line. There was only one other person in front of her; a guy buying cigarettes and lottery tickets. Terra let her gaze wander as she waited, taking in all the bright and colorful packages of cancer displayed before her. Her gaze drifted down to the newspaper stand next to the desk, the bold headline jumping out at her.

Teen Titans Save the Day!

After the fifteenth breakout this year, the Titans catch and lock up Plasmus once and for all!

Terra didn’t read any farther; instead, her focus remained on the perfect black and white picture plastered right beneath the headline. It was the infamous Teen Titans, of course, standing tired but proud in front of the snoozing gelatinous villain that had been giving Jump City ire for as long as she could remember. One face in particular held her attention, the ever familiar fang toothed grin making her heart twist in her chest.

Beast Boy.

“Um, miss?”

Terra jumped, blinking up at the cashier. He tilted his head, his brows furrowed in concern. “Are you ready?”

She nodded hastily, practically throwing the goldfish onto the counter.

“Three thirty-two.”

Terra didn’t bother counting the change; instead, she threw a five down and swiped the goldfish, scurrying out the door as fast as her feet could carry her. The chilly ocean breeze nipped at her nose and cheeks, but Terra hardly noticed. Instead, her mind was locked in a torrent of painful memories revolving around the Teen Titans and a certain green skinned member.

A crash jolted Terra back to the present. Her gaze darted about, finding nothing but a dark, empty street. She hugged her arms about herself, suppressing a shiver.

Terra drew to a stop. She stared at the ground, marveling at the moon’s shimmering reflection in a muddy puddle at her feet. It was faded, thanks to the light pollution obscuring the sky. But Terra remembered gazing up a brighter moon, once upon a time.

Cold seeped up into her skin, making her shiver. But Terra didn’t mind. The gentle touch of the stone beneath her knees was oddly comforting, and she settled onto the rocky outcrop with a contented sigh.

“The moon’s out tonight.”

Beast Boy’s voice startled her, and Terra jerked her head up to see the shapeshifter perched on a nearby boulder. An unbidden grin rose to her lips, and she giggled. “Yeah, it is.” She turned up to the sky, basking in the moonlight. Beast Boy leaped down, his shoes scuffing against the rocks as he padded to her side.

She risked a glance out of the corner or her eyes. His green skin glowed beneath the soft moonlight, making him look rather picturesque. Terra resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, for fear of disturbing the peace settled between them.

“I’ve always liked this spot,” he murmured. Terra turned to him then, her lips pursing in curiosity. She said nothing, letting the changeling continue.

“It’s nice to just...sit and enjoy the view, ya’ know?”

Terra nodded. “Yeah. I like coming here to unwind.” She stretched out then, juggling a pebble in the air with the wave of a finger. She felt warm inside as a wide grin stretched across Beast Boy’s features. Terra didn’t know what exactly about her powers he found so interesting; she played with rocks.

Big deal.

But Beast Boy never failed to be utterly entranced with anything she ever did with her curse, his eyes bright with curiosity and affection.

Tonight was no exception.

Terra launched the pebble into the water, listening to it plop as it broke through the surface. The ripples swelled from the source, quickly distorting the night sky’s reflection.

“I wonder what space is like.”

When she glanced back at him, he was staring up at the moon, a wistful expression softening his features. Terra hugged her knees to her chest, gently bopping her shoulder against his. “Big and full of stars,” she said with a laugh. A smile flickered across his lips but he said nothing, his gaze fixed firmly among the swirling galaxies above.

“Sometimes, I wanna try to fly up and up into the stars.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “To be free.”

It was a statement so simple, yet so...telling. Terra looked up, starlight shimmering in her eyes. It certainly was pretty up there. She imagined Beast Boy as a bird, finally able to use his wings to carry him away from the burdens gravity had imposed upon him. Then she tried to picture the same for herself, only drop her gaze.

She wasn’t much of a flier.

Terra reached over and draped her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. He surprised her by turning his hand over and entwining their fingers. Terra gasped slightly, staring at their hands in wide-eyed fascination. She could feel his burning gaze on her, and Terra looked up and found herself lost in a swirling meadow of green.

She didn’t know how it happened, but soon they were but a hairsbreadth apart, his hot breath on her lips. Terra was frozen, her heart hammering in her chest. Everything faded around her and the only thing she was aware of was Beast Boy. His nose grazed her cheek, and Terra’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Friend Beast Boy, friend Terra! You will join us for dinner, yes?”

Starfire’s shout spurred them apart, and Terra stared at her now empty hand.

“Yeah, we’ll be right up!” Beast Boy yelled. He scrambled to his feet, holding his hand out to her. The shapeshifter flashed her a smile, the only remains of their near kiss a faint blush dusted onto his cheeks. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Terra reached up and took his hand, laughing as he dragged her back towards the tower door.

Something dripped into the puddle, obscuring the faded moon with its resulting ripples. Terra blinked, and she reached up to brush away the thin trail of tears flowing down her face. She shook her head and surged forward, leaving the puddle behind.

There was no going back anyway. Why reminisce about the past? She couldn’t go back. She’d burnt that bridge forever ago. And even if she did, what would she say? Sorry for breaking your heart?

Yeah, that would go over well.

“Watch out!”

Terra looked up to see a blur of black just before it collided with her. She hit the ground hard, the wind whooshing from her lungs as an elbow jabbed into her side. Cement scraped at her knees and cheek, and Terra gasped as she tried to shove the person off of her. The weight holding her down vanished, and she rolled onto her hands and knees.

“Hey, you okay?”

Terra peered upwards, her vision blurred with tears. “Y-yeah,” she wheezed. “Just give me a sec.”

Strong hands helped her to her feet, and Terra scrubbed at her eyes.

“Terra?”

She blinked, her savior coming into focus. A familiar pair of green eyes met her gaze, and Terra blanched. “B-Beast Boy?” She almost thought it was a dream. Yet there he was, standing before her in all his suited glory. He smiled at her, his fangs flashing in the night.

“Yeah. Uh, how are you?”

Terra smiled hesitantly, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. “Fine, fine.” She glanced over to the perpetrator, who was being apprehended by Starfire. “Who’s the guy?”

Beast Boy chuckled. “Just some dumb robber. You’d really think people knew better to commit crimes on patrol nights.”

Silence stretched between the two once again. Terra stared at her feet. There was a lot of things she wanted to say, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she couldn’t find the strength to speak.

“Oh, uh, are you okay? We have a first aid kit…”

Terra wanted to laugh. She imagined him running around with a big box strapped on his back, filled with first aid equipment. She figured he meant back at their stakeout location or something of the likes, but the thought still amused her. Terra shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”

“Good.”

Silence. They both looked anywhere but each other, until Beast Boy finally shot her a small smile. “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

He turned to go, and Terra bit her lip.

“The moon’s out tonight.”

The words sprang from her lips, and Terra gulped. Beast Boy paused. He looked up, and Terra could faintly see a smile dancing on his lips. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Beast Boy looked at her, an array of emotions dancing in his eyes.

“Thanks. For uh, helping me.” Terra cursed inwardly. Her mouth seemed to have taken a mind of its own, and it was determined to ruin her.

“Of course.”

“And I’m sorry.”

Beast Boy stared at her. Terra gulped, finding herself drowning in his gaze once again. She wanted to reach forward, to touch him. But it felt as though the earth itself had wrapped around her feet, keeping her in place. So she waited in agonizing silence, exposed under Beast Boy’s burning gaze.

Then he smiled, and the moon seemed to shine just a little bit brighter.

So I usually don’t write for these two specifically, but I was feeling a little inspired. So have this thing. I dunno what it is, angst? Oh well. Enjoy.

#bbterra #Teen Titans #beast boy #terra #what is this #i dont know #bbterra fanfiction

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edc-creations-blog · 6 years

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Telling Stories by Cheri Paris Edwards

Sometimes life throws you a curveball…

Navigating middle-age is a challenge for 45-year old Genelle “Gigi” Golden. First the death of her mother, then her long time live-in boyfriend abruptly trades her in for a new model. Determined to restart her life Gigl packs her bags and heads to the Southwest. When things don’t go as planned, Gigi finds herself caught between the proverbial ‘rock and a hard place’; and an impulsive decision turns her life in an unexpected direction.

Then ex-military man Desmond Wright enters her life. Although physically changed by a skin disease it hasn’t dampened Desmond’s confidence or lessened his appeal to the opposite sex. But, Desmond’s life is complicated by an spoiled adult daughter, who treats his home like it has a revolving door, and a mother who won’t let him forget that he’s yet to find the love of his life.

When things falls apart, Gigi discovers that true friends reveal themselves in the toughest times and that grace comes when you least expect it.

Chapter One

Genelle- Chasing Waterfalls

Somewhere I read that the sky doesn’t get dark anymore. Well, I know for a fact it’s not true. Tonight, a deep black sky arches above, like an inky tarp dotted with glittering lights. In fact, the entire scene is as picturesque as one of those postcards hanging on the small wire carousel that sits on the shiny front counter of the hotel gift shop. Sand spreads like a fine white coverlet to the ocean’s edge. There, ripples nudged by a soft wind pause, glide effortlessly back into the sea. And perched at the edge of the horizon, a fat moon beams at his shimmery reflection.

Dragging my bare toes through the warm sand, I slowly make my way back toward the squat building that sits at the top of a small hill. By day, the charisma of the eccentric owners, Sam and Anthony, illuminates the restaurant and bar unimaginatively called the Tiki Lounge. At night, it’s the place that transforms. Rows of slender pendant lamps dangle from the wooden rafters above the terrace, turning it into a magical oasis. Even the breeze is enchanting, fragrant with spicy sandalwood incense and sweet plumeria blooms. Stepping onto the pebbled deck, I find an empty table, sink onto the emerald cushion of a chair. I slide my lips over the straw of the daiquiri I hold between my hands. Take a long thirsty swallow.

My eyes drift to the patio doors.

He walks in.

Eyes flashing, he threads through the cluster of tables and chairs. Makes his way toward me, as rhythmically as a slow, sweet song.

“Hey . . . ” he says huskily as he nears my table. His gaze holds mine.

“Hey yourself . . . ” I manage to whisper, breathless from the pounding of my heart.

My nostrils quiver. His scent like a sparkling forest after a burst of summer rain. Flicking my tongue, I moisten my lips, ready for the pressure of his mouth on mine.

Then a sound.

“Jeantel!”

Focus, I tell myself. I lock my eyes on the handsome planes of the face in front of me.

That sound again.

Then, “Jeantel!” Louder this time.

The smooth, angular face poised so delectably near begins to waver.

“Don’t go,” I whisper.

“Over here, Jeantel!”

My black prince’s face dims.

“Jeantel!”

Grudgingly, I let the fantasy slide away.

“Whaaat?” I yell. Yank myself upright. Blink rapidly. Slowly, the cramped interior of my car grows clear.

“It’s me. James.”

“I see you,” I tell the wiry man peering through the passenger window of my Nissan Altima. “What do you want?”

Rudeness is not usually my style, but I convince myself rather easily that there’s no real reason to feel bad about being shitty to James, who I’ve known less than a week. Allowing myself to indulge in a little fantasy has always been a way for me to cope, and the blame for the abrupt ending of this morning’s session lies squarely at James’s feet.

“Gonna let me in or what?” James snatches a face towel that hasn’t seen a washing in a good long while from the back pocket of his jeans, wipes the sweat around on his face.

“Okay,” I tell him as I flick open the door latch.

“Something wrong?” James asks as he climbs inside, flops on the seat.

( Continued… )

© 2018 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Cheri Paris Edwards. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

Purchase Telling Stories by Cheri Paris Edwards Amazon Download: http://a.co/d/eVVYwqo

Intimate Conversation with Cheri Paris Edwards

Cheri Paris Edwards is the author of “Plenty Good Room” and the “The Other Sister.” Edwards work has been praised by “Publisher’s Weekly” and “Booklist.” Edwards is a PhD Candidate at the University of North Texas and an Associate Professor.

BPM: It is such a pleasure to have you join us to discuss, “Telling Stories.” Describe yourself in three words. “Passionate, creative and funny.”

BPM: What drove you to publish your first book or create your first series? How long have you been writing? I have been writing since I was a teen when I wrote poetry. I wrote my first novel after literary agent Denise Stinson called me after I’d submitted a non-fiction effort and asked had I ever considered fiction. That novel didn’t ever get published but my next effort, “Plenty Good Room” was published by Denise when she was also an editor for Walk Worthy at Warner books.

BPM: Describe what you do outside of writing to expand your business or brand. Well, I am an Associate Professor at Tarrant County College which is a huge college with almost 40,000 students on five campuses. I work at the Trinity River Campus in downtown Fort Worth. The head of our Tahita Fulkerson library is Dr. Susan Smith and she’s a great person in my view. Like me, she comes to TCC from the University of North Texas. Anyway, she read a proof of “Telling Stories,” and wrote that she REALLY liked it. Consequently, she ordered copies for the library and I spoke at an event on November 1st.

On the other hand, it’s been a bit hard, to talk about my writing in some academic settings. I am a Lit major, and yet I definitely do NOT write literary fiction and many academics do not take romance lit or Christian fiction seriously. They have a specific writing style and expectations for content that they believe is valuable, particularly when it comes to literature written by African-Americans.

I am self-taught as a fiction writer and most promote a programmatic approach to writing fiction that’s gained by going through an MFA program. This is particularly true, because I’ve had to learn to understand the expectations of genre better, and had to readjust my writing to create the kind of pacing that is different from academic or some non-fiction writing. And, I am also self-published. So, I’ve definitely had to find my own confidence. However, I am blessed to have a few great friends who served as beta readers and gave me valuable feedback and others who are just wonderfully supportive of my efforts. I also feel I’ll get nice support from some at the Community College level.

Additionally, I just purchased home in what is called the Great Southwest area in Dallas County and plan to visit libraries to get the book on library shelves in the towns of Lancaster, DeSoto and Cedar Hill. These small cities are predominantly African-American and Lancaster and DeSoto still shelve copies of “Plenty Good Room” It’s also a way of getting my name on local invites to other events where I can sell my book. Unfortunately, I missed the Fort Worth library author’s program this year, but will try to make it next time.

BPM: What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your body of work/books? Well, the first time out I was quite surprised at how difficult it was for black writers to get a publishing deal. I don’t know why I didn’t know. After studying African-American history and realizing that this has been an historical challenge for blacks, I understand the constraints of the publishing landscape better. I mean blacks in the not too distant past (like Harlem Renaissance year) really were writing a great deal of the time for a white audience because that’s primarily who had the leisure time, and the ability to read. And, even when weren’t writing for them, they were quite aware their “gaze” was on the work, and that likely influenced how it was written (and what was written) as well.

It’s still difficult today to find publishers for stories about blacks just living their lives, which is situation that Zora Neale Hurston lamented many years ago in a 1950 essay entitled, “What White Publishers Won’t Print.” Well, “Telling Stories” is about black folks just living their lives and they’re older folks (as am I) which makes both me and novel even less interesting to traditional publishers.

So, after a few queries, and rejections and looking at “wish lists from diverse writers” that was just ridiculous in my opinion, I decided since I know how to do graphics and can content edit reasonably well, that I would just again publish myself. One of my TWU colleagues, Erin Marissa Russell, is a fantastic copy-editor and she took the job on pro-bono and I’m very grateful for her help. However, I do feel books should be read across racial lines, because they often identify what connects us as humans.

BPM: How did you choose the genre you write in? Have you considered writing in another genre? I am writing in another genre! And, this is also the first novel written in first-person narrative voice. I began my published career in Christian fiction but it wasn’t purposeful. I wrote a non-fiction book with Christian elements and was told when I submitted it on the open market, I should query Christian publishers and agents. And, because I included those elements in my fiction, after talking with Denise Stinson, I followed the same path in other writings. I really never felt it was a great fit, because my first story didn’t have the arc that most Christian fiction writings do. I don’t think readers knew how to handle the story because of that.

I decided this time out to write a story that was more ME. In hindsight I also think including Christian elements in my fiction and my topics were subconsciously influenced by some internal obligations I felt I had to meet. Now, I just feel freed from those and allowed this story to flow without the feeling that I had to take on any issue or problems or curtail much about how I wanted to tell the story. For example, I curse, so there’s cursing. *lol* And, I am a person who laughs a lot and who often relies on humor to help deal with life’s struggles, so writing a humorous book is also a natural.

BPM: Tell us about your most recent work. It is entitled, “Telling Stories” and is available right now only at Amazon, in print and e-book. Available on Nook and Kindle?

BPM: Introduce us to the people in the book! Give us some insight into your main characters or the speakers. There’s quite a few characters in the book. The story is narrated in the alternating voices of Genelle Golden (or Gigi as she’s called once she moves to Texas) and Desmond Wright. Both are middle-aged and both face challenges in their lives. Gigi has relocated to Texas and when a living situation doesn’t work out, has to take shelter in her car. In other words, she’s homeless.

Some of the people she meets along the way help her through the situation, even when they don’t know all that’s going on in her life. We also meet Butterfly who owns the hair salon where Gigi gets a job, Juan and Imogene who work there and all of the others who stop through or are there for hair appointments. And there’s James, the waitress who helps Gigi and Gigi’s sister Neecie, who’s a bit of a snob.

Desmond comes with his own family and baggage. Mama, is a petite, well-coiffed churchgoer, who will curse you out in “a voice sweet as Karo syrup.” Desmond is a Mama’s boy, and Mama thinks Desmond should hurry up and find a wife! He’s a bit of a commitment-phobe though and though he’s dated quite a bit, none of the women have been quite right. Desmond also has an adult daughter. Malaika is spoiled (by Desmond, of course!) and he can’t keep her out of his pocket or his house, since she’s always underwhelmed by the efforts of her husband Ray. He also has a grandson Clint, who is a whirling dervish one moment, and wise beyond his years the next. And, Desmond has the skin disease vitiligo, although he brags its not dampened his swagger.

BPM: What’s so unique about their story-line or voice in the story? What makes each one so special? Gigi and Desmond have their own distinct voices, challenges, and their lives are quite different, but they are similar in that they both are middle-age and without partners and somehow they come together. Each of them also have backstory that contributes to the emotional baggage they must wade through to really connect which is revealed in brief reminiscences about past events and both working through grief about their parents who have passed away.

BPM: Share one specific point in your book that resonated with your present situation or journey. Like Gigi, I moved to Texas after a series of losses. I lost my mother, and my sons were grown and had moved out. Also like Gigi, I was chronically underemployed while living in Illinois and wasn’t working at all when I decided to leave. Additionally a second contract with a publisher was on the verge of falling apart. Once I decided to relocate, I literally packed my three bedroom townhouse on my own, and with help of a nephew, my brother-in law and a friend, packed all I had into storage and the rest in my car within a few weeks time. Leaving behind below 32 degree temps, ice and snow, my toy poodle Mocha and I took a long rainy ride to Texas.

It was a challenging start. About a year later I returned to school though. I earned my Master’s in English in 2014 and then was accepted into the Literature program at The University of North Texas. I also was able to teach many wonderful students teaching at both colleges before taking the position here last year. I didn’t even have furniture here for a year and a half. I couldn’t move my bed though and slept on an inflatable mattress and kept my clothes in open suitcases until two years ago!

BPM: Are there certain characters you would like to go back to or is there a theme or idea you’d love to work with? Oh, I don’t know. I loved these characters. I haven’t thought seriously about writing more about any of them, but I’m sure I could since much was left unfinished.

BPM: Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? I would not write about a pathological subject having to do with blacks or about passing, simply because I’ve read too many books in the canon about that kind of thing.

BPM: Have you ever received a rejection from an agent or a publisher? Yes, about 3 on this novel from agents before I gave up on querying about a year and a half ago. I didn’t get many with “Plenty Good Room,” and the “The Other Sister” was going to originally be published by the same publisher under a different imprint. However, it was taking so long to get to my manuscript that I went with another offer which ended up not working out.

BPM: Do you ever have days when writing is a struggle? Have you ever had to deal with rejection? It’s a struggle of lot of the time. I just forge through.

BPM: Have you written any other books that are not published? Yes, I’ve written some that I took off the market as well.

BPM: What projects are you working on at the present? Right now I’m working on getting through my dissertation. I’ve been writing throughout this year. Since January, “Telling Stories” had been getting copyedited. Erin was doing it between paying jobs, and then I did a last couple edits on it this summer, but nothing major. I am finishing chapter three of my dissertation and I have one more to finish. I am expanding a research paper I’ve already written, so I’m hopeful I may still finish by the first of the year. I teach five sections this semester and six next semester, and I grade a lot because I offer a workshop setting where students are always submitting exercises, and that takes time too. I have about 100 students this semester. Also, now I commute a couple hours a day since I live in Dallas County.

BPM: How do you stay connected with others in publishing and your readers? On social media of course, although I had deactivated my Facebook for quite a long time. I wanted to get back in touch with the real world, and I did. Even though it’s reactivated, I’m not sure I’ll be involved as I was before.

BPM: What legacy do you hope to leave future generations of readers and new writers with your writing? That it’s not too late, nor are you confined to “traditional” publishers. Just write the best book you can, and have a “day job.”

BPM: What is your preferred method to have readers get in touch with or follow you? They can follow at @write12b on Twitter and I also have a Facebook Author and Personal page. I haven’t been all that active this year because of all of my obligations, but I will be picking up steam in the next few weeks.

BPM: How can readers discover more about you and your work? Twitter: https://twitter.com/write12b Website: https://cheriparisedwards.wixsite.com/mysite-2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cheriparisedwards Author FB page: https://www.facebook.com/purelyparispublishing

Telling Stories by Cheri Paris Edwards Telling Stories by Cheri Paris Edwards Sometimes life throws you a curveball... Navigating middle-age is a challenge for 45-year old Genelle "Gigi" Golden.

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