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atths--twice · 3 years

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Wednesday Night at the Fluff and Fold

Had an idea for a little “on the run” story the other day. Thus this little story was born. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Late on a hot summer night, while on the run, Scully and Mulder spend some time in a small town laundromat.

September 2003

Juliette, Georgia

10:00 p.m.

There was an odd feeling of calm to pairing socks, seeing them piling up beside the other clothes, everything organized into neat stacks.

Scully smiled as she remembered helping her mother fold clothes when she was younger, loving the feel of them when they were warm from the dryer, or even helping to take them from a clothesline. Sheets were always her favorite, lifting her side up as high as she could, her mother smiling as she held tight to the other end. The sound of the snap of the fabric, the perfect fold, meeting in the middle to hand it off to her mother… she loved it all.

Socks were saved for her to do on her own, large piles of them from the whole family, left to her to sort like a puzzle. She liked being able to differentiate between them, giving the right socks to the right people, proud that she never got it wrong.

As an adult, she found that same pride in the tidiness of her own home; the dishes always washed and put away in their place, the pictures hung to her taste, her clothes always organized, going through them often and getting rid of any taking up unwanted space.

Space, she thought with a snort. That’s definitely something we are lacking these days.

Folding one of Mulder’s t-shirts, she placed it on top of his pile. One of her shirts was next and she placed it on her own pile with a sigh. Turning around, she looked at the dryer in front of her and saw it still had twenty minutes left before the cycle would be complete. Looking around at the empty laundromat, she sighed again.

Fanning herself, she lifted her long hair off of her sweaty neck. The weight of it made her think again of cutting it short like she’d had it in the past. Instead, she took the rubber band from her wrist and tied it up into a messy bun, a few pieces falling down and brushing her face. As it did, she sighed at the dark brown, nearly black color of it.

She’d had it dyed for months now, but she was still taken aback by it when her thoughts were elsewhere and it suddenly fell into her view. She did not mind it, but it was a drastic difference from her normal red.

The door to the laundromat opened and Mulder walked in with a plastic bag in each hand.. Even in khaki shorts, a black tank top, and flip flops, she could see he was just as warm as she was, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

“God, it’s like walking through numerous layers of warm wet paper towels. I’m sweating like crazy.”

“It’s not much cooler in here,” she said with a gesture toward the dryers. “Thankfully it’s the last load.”

“Should I get the bags from the car?” he asked, setting the plastic bags down on the counter beside the piles of folded clothes.

“Nah. Might as well wait until those are done and folded.” He nodded and jumped up to sit next to the bags, smiling at her as he did. She let out a deep breath as she glanced at the dryer timer again.

Eighteen minutes until they would pack up and head away from this small town, all of their clothes clean, for a while at least.

It had been nearly a year and a half since they had been on the run, staying in countless motels, trailers, tents, the car itself, and even once a teepee, which they had both found highly offensive, especially after seeing the decor. But it had been cold and the place warm, so they had stayed for a night before leaving the next morning

In that time, a system had been created. They had bought large plastic totes and kept everything they needed inside of them: sleeping bags, pillows, extra blankets, two tents, tarps, camping cooking supplies, some food- but not much as they did not want to attract any unwanted animals.

They also had two duffel bags which held all of the clothes they owned, rotating them by need and season.

As it was the tailend of a very warm summer, the warmer clothes had been stored in one of the totes, not needed for a few more months. The two duffel bags were now full of shorts, tank tops, shirts, and even a few sundresses, the breeze welcome as it cooled her everywhere.

The bags also held their simple toiletries inside plastic zippered bags. It was organized and fit just so in the car, allowing them to grab whatever was needed quickly. Every item was replaceable and held no sentimental value, easily able to be left behind if the situation called for it.

Clothes were worn until only one outfit remained, the dirty clothes placed in trash bags. All laundry was done at one time, visiting laundromats late at night, or any motel with on-site laundry service. The clean clothes were then put back into the duffel bags, the trash bags slipped into the totes, ready to be refilled.

It was a system that worked well, keeping them away from crowds of people, Mulder remaining safe and relatively unseen.

Sighing again, she shook her head and glanced at the bags he had brought in with him.

“So, what have you got there?” she asked with a smile, one of the bags smelling of something delicious and causing her stomach to growl.

“Well,” he said, opening the bag and removing take out containers, handing one to her. “The Whistle Stop Café is open late tonight for a summer barbecue-”

“Is it?” she said, looking at her food cautiously and he laughed.

“Pork, not human,” he assured her with another chuckle. “Someone in front of me made that joke and the woman serving food gave him such a look, I knew better than to make the same mistake.”

“Can’t really blame people when it’s heavily implied in the Fried Green Tomatoes movie and in the book… well…” She raised her eyebrows and opened the container, sniffing the delicious aroma of barbecued pork, her mouth watering.

“I also got mashed potatoes and biscuits. Homemade biscuits that I ate one of on the way over here because they had only just cooled enough to be served when I ordered them. Try one of those first.” He handed her one and he nodded encouragingly.

Taking it from him, she took a bite and then moaned as the sweet taste of butter hit her tongue. He nodded again with a smile as she took another bite and he took out utensils and napkins. She pushed herself up to sit beside him, her legs swinging as they ate, the dryer continuing to tumble the last of their clothes, both of them hot, sweaty, and sticky.

As they finished eating, the dryer stopped and while he cleaned up their food and trash, she took out the clothes, walking them to the counter to be folded. He came back in with the duffel bags, setting them on the empty counter, and began helping her fold the clothes.

In no time, they were filling the duffel bags, everything once more arranged and in order. She threw out the dryer sheets she had used and picked up the now empty trash bags, ready to put them back into the totes in the car.

“What’s in this bag?” she asked and he nodded at her to open it. When she did, she smiled, finding it full of paperbacks.

“I found a used bookstore and came back to the car, taking out the ones you’d wanted to swap if we found one. I could only find up to “O,” but maybe we’ll get lucky at the next place and find “P” and “Q.””

“There’s a “Q”? I didn’t know,” she murmured and he nodded as she looked down at the books.

They had stayed at a cabin in March and the sparse amount of books available had led to her reading ones she would normally have passed over. Particularly, a series of detective novels, the titles of each one beginning with a different letter of the alphabet.

Finding that she enjoyed them, when they had been in another town, she had popped into a used bookstore, finding the next in the “alphabet series” by Sue Grafton. She had loved them all, a distraction from their own lives for a little while. It had been some time since she had finished, and even reread the last few, holding onto them to trade in for new ones, and she was happy he had found them.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking at “L” is for Lawless and “M” is for Malice. “I know it’s not my usual reading material…”

“Scully, there isn’t much that is usual right now.” He smiled at her and shrugged. “You enjoy them. I do too. Especially when you read them aloud and we try to figure out the ending.” She nodded with a smile and ran her fingers across the titles.

“Thank you,” she said again, lifting her head to look at him. He smiled with a nod and picked up one of the duffel bags, kissing her as he did.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered against her lips, reaching for the next duffel bag.

She put the books back inside the plastic bag and picked up their black canvas backpack. Everything else could be left behind and abandoned at a moment's notice, but not the backpack. It held everything of importance inside of it and was never far from sight.

One last look around, making sure they had everything, they walked out into the muggy and sticky Georgia night. Bags were placed back into the car and then bottles of water were taken from the totes and carried to the front seat.

Mulder turned on the car, blasting the air conditioning as they both sat, the warm air gradually becoming cooler. She closed her eyes as she twisted her head and leaned forward, letting the cool air hit the back of her neck.

“What were we thinking, huh? Coming to the south in the summer? Should have stayed up north,” Mulder said with a deep sigh and she smiled.

“It’s summer, Mulder. It’s hot everywhere.”

“Hmm. Not moist hot though. I feel… well… it’s not the best situation in my southern region either.” She laughed and opened her eyes, looking at him as he raised his eyebrows with a shake of his head.

“How does a cold shower sound?”

“Make it lukewarm, and not a solo one, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he said with a smile and she tilted her head.

“You’re asking me to join you even after you’ve so eloquently divulged a bad case of swamp ass?” She raised her eyebrows at him, a half smile on her face, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely. I’m sure you could do with a…”

“Yes?” she asked, her eyebrows raising higher, waiting to see how big of a hole he would dig himself into.

“Well…” He shrugged and smiled, the one that made her heart race. Innocent and sweet, with an air of mischief hiding behind it. “A nice refreshing shower after standing in that warm laundromat for so long.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, licking her lips and his eyes followed its path across them.

“And if it leads to some sex… well…” He shrugged again and put the car in gear, looking around before he backed up and out of the parking spot, continuing out of the parking lot. “At least we’ll get clean as we’re being dirty.” She laughed and nodded, already anticipating the feel of the water cooling and cleansing her sweaty body, his hands on her wet and slippery skin making her ache with need.

He grinned at her as they pulled up to a stop sign by the Whistle Stop Café. People were still there enjoying the barbecue, music playing and laughter ringing out into the night. They drove past the now closed used bookstore and she smiled, remembering the books waiting to be read. Looking at him, she smiled and he winked as he caught her eye.

“A refreshing shower sounds wonderful.”

“And the sex?” he asked, stopping at a light and staring at her, waggling his eyebrows.

“Sounds orgasmic,” she said in a low voice and he growled, stepping on the gas as soon as the light was green, hurrying out of town as she laughed happily.

#The X Files #xf fanfic #msr #memories #on the run #doing laundry #hot weather #gifts of surprise #happy

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Level Up, Chapter Eleven (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

Brooke’s eyes are sincere as she says it, and Vanessa’s heart starts to beat just a little bit faster. Vanessa’s a person who’s always on the go, not one to slow down if she doesn’t have to but Brooke has the ability to make her world pause for just a second. Brooke changes Vanessa’s focus from what’s in front of her to solely her, and Vanessa almost wishes she could keep it there forever.

It’s never that hard for Vanessa to come up with words to reply with, especially not towards Brooke, but her brain feels like it has shuddered to a stop, pressing on the brakes because the small smile on Brooke’s face is more important to focus on. She could say something stupid, something funny, maybe return the sentiment but she doesn’t get a chance to decide on what to do before Yvie lets out a scoff.

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

AN: Hi, I'm still alive, I promise. Popping back into this lovely fic nearly eight months later (a new job, a new apartment, a new city, and a new cat later too) and I love it just as much as I did in January. Eight months is good for plot to marinate and develop and I'm excited to get back to writing this fic again. If you're still around for this journey, thank you and know I'm so grateful for it. Please do tell me your thoughts if you read! Thank you writ for betaing ily <3

“So you have that interview with Glamour, I’ll set it up for some time this week, and Teen Vogue wants to do something on their Youtube channel. Who knew that was a thing? I’m working on Adidas’ rep to finagle a sponsorship outta them, and Under Armour on the backburner just in case-”

Vanessa bursts through the doors of the gym while Detox continues talking in her ear, not at all apologetic about the way that she has to interrupt her as she ambles towards Brooke’s office. “Just reached the gym. We’ll have to continue this later, ‘cause training waits for no one, right?”

“I see exactly what you’re doing, but I’m not mad at it. Go work on building those boxing skills that’ll keep lining your pockets for years. Toodles!”

Vanessa lets out a snort when Detox hangs up the phone. “Toodles? Who the hell says that?”

“Detox?” Brooke looks up from her book, an amused smile on her face. “I know that trick.”

“What trick?” Vanessa squints her eyes as she sits down, trying to read the cover of Brooke’s paperback. “Are you reading Chicken Soup for the Soul? ”

Brooke waves a hand. “Doesn’t matter. And the trick of dipping out of Detox’s phone calls. Why else would you get to the gym so early?”

“Oh, come on. I’m early sometimes. Occasionally,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke doesn’t buy it in the least from the way she raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not. I like Detox, I really do, don’t get me wrong. She’s hysterical and good at her job, real good at it, but damn.”

“Detox works hard,” Brooke nods, understanding in her eyes. “It’s a lot to handle sometimes.”

“She cranks up the exposure by a million and targets it in specific places and it works, ‘cause I have a lot of followers and deals now but…”

“But what?”

Brooke leans forward, pushing her book to the side as she looks earnestly at Vanessa. It’s striking, sometimes, how Brooke gives her full attention. How much she cares sometimes.

It’s nice.

“It feels real wild, y’know? Like all I did was become a meme, and now my face is going to be in a Spotify commercial. How does that jump happen?” Vanessa shifts in her chair, letting out a sigh. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

It’s as if Vanessa is riding in a car that’s only getting faster and faster, not quite in control of the steering wheel or knowing when she’s going to be able to stop. Sure, the ride is fun, but it also feels like she’s driving without a license, as if she’s skipped the learner’s permit stage and hit the highway instead.

“She wants to capitalize on it as much as possible. Keep you in the spotlight even after the next big meme rolls around,” Brooke shrugs, before pausing for a second, a look of concern in her eyes. “It’s not too much, is it? I can always talk to Detox with you if you feel like it’s overwhelming-”

“Nah, I’ll survive,” Vanessa shrugs, giving her best reassuring smile to Brooke. “Lush sent me some free shit the other day. I like goodie bags.”

Brooke snorts. “Fair enough. Bath bombs are a reason to keep going.”

“Want some? I got enough for a month's worth of spa days.” Vanessa makes a mental note to bring some of the freebies for Brooke on their next practice. She’s earned half of everything, at least.

“You have any of the sakura ones?” Brooke is tentative with her question, and Vanessa nods enthusiastically.

“You’re getting all of ‘em.”

“Now, hold on a second-”

“It’s six. Don’t we have practice to start?” Vanessa’s up and out of the office before Brooke can protest any further. “I’m gonna go change.”

Practice is nice. Practice feels familiar amongst all the new chaos in Vanessa’s life. It lets her turn her brain off and get away from the people that recognize her out in public, the way her Instagram is now solely for sponsored posts. The way she feels like a caricature of herself, almost, because others have an opinion of who she is based on a ten second video clip.

But practice isn’t like that. In the gym, Brooke is the same as ever, pushing and pushing her until sweat is drenching her back and her mind is spinning and she feels more alive than she ever has. When Brooke throws moves at Vanessa that she has to work in overdrive to block and counter with some of her own, it’s familiar. Even though she’s tired and gasping for breath, it’s what she knows how to do, and in an environment that isn’t unsettling or foreign.

The best part about it? Vanessa can still feel herself learning. Growing. Stepping up to the challenges that Brooke throws at her. Sure, she’s not aching to get back into the competition ring anytime soon, but the approving smiles from Brooke when she gets in a good hit or when she avoids a shot that would previously knock her on the ground gives her a thrill every time.

The end of practice leaves Vanessa with a new sense of longing that’s only been present the last few weeks, since this whole meme mess has started. Leaving the gym is hard, because it means Vanessa has to go outside again, pull her hat down when passerby on the sidewalk give her a second look. She has to unlock her phone and pretend to be busy, but then she’s faced with comments pouring in on every social media account that she opens. She can text one of her friends but it’s hard to continue a conversation, really, after it starts with a rousing Miss Vanjie, no matter how much in jest.

Being outside the gym means that she’s reminded of her new loss of normalcy.

She takes her time switching back into her sweats after she showers, dragging her feet as she leaves the change room with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. When she squints her eyes she can see Brooke at the far end of the gym, teetering on a stool as she repositions one of the crooked banners. Brooke turns around almost as if she can tell Vanessa is there, a good natured smile and an easy wave following immediately.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Need any help?” Vanessa’s stalling a bit by asking, but maybe Brooke really could use a hand with the banners, or at least an extra set of eyes to make sure that they’re nice and straight.

She’s just helpful, that’s all.

Brooke, to her credit, doesn’t call Vanessa out for it as she squints, admiring her handiwork. “I think they’re as aligned as they’re ever going to be. I’m going to get ready to leave for the night, too.”

“Oh,” Vanessa doesn’t mean to sound a little disappointed as Brooke jumps off the stool, fiddling with the jacket that’s slung across her arm. “Already?”

“It’s almost eight thirty,” Brooke points out, padding past Vanessa towards her office door and grabbing her coat off of the hook. “You’re not tired and ready to go home yet?”

“I just…”

Vanessa trails off, looking down at the ground. She’s not sure what to say, really. All that’s waiting for her is her apartment, but she can’t mindlessly scroll Twitter or Instagram before bed without seeing her face again. She needs to reply to her friends’ texts, but the notifications are piling up on top of one another like a mountain that she’s not really sure how she’s going to climb.

Vanessa just wants to avoid it all.

Brooke pauses, and each second that passes makes Vanessa’s heart constrict because maybe she should just try to explain, but she doesn’t know how to and it feels like too much-

“C’mon. My roommate and I are having a late dinner and rewatching Chicken Little. Are you in for a nacho night?”

Brooke’s looking at her expectantly and Vanessa wants to say yes, but what pops out of her mouth is what’s pressing on her even more. “Did you say rewatching Chicken Little?”

“It’s a good movie!” Brooke’s defensiveness makes Vanessa crack a smile despite how restless she feels, how much she’s fidgeting while standing in place. “Come over and you’ll see.”

“Y’know, we haven’t talked about movies before, but this recommendation is making me question what your taste is like,” Vanessa lets out a giggle, when Brooke’s mock offense takes over her face as she puts a hand to her heart.

“The disrespect. You’re not getting nachos with those kinds of statements,” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s gym bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she holds the door open. “Now c’mon.”

Brooke’s apartment is not what Vanessa expects - there are colours and tapestries lining the walls and even one on the ceiling, and she’s pretty sure she sees a bong on top of the refrigerator. It’s pretty, though, with the art splashed across every free surface and the shelves filled with books upon books, piles of even more on the actual floor. Vanessa has to resist the urge to go and sit down on the wicker chair in front of the television that’s suspended from the ceiling.

“Yvie’s the one behind the decor.” Brooke has a knowing smile on her face and Vanessa can feel her cheeks heat up, from how easily Brooke can read her mind. “Moved in a few years ago after she broke up with a long term partner. Never really got around to adding things of my own to the walls.”

Vanessa snickers before she can even get her joke out properly. “What would you add? A Chicken Little poster?”

Brooke, for her part, doesn’t miss a beat. “Nah. A poster of your meme.”

“Wow-”

“I know we were thinking nachos, but picture this. Chicken nuggets while we watch Chicken Little.” A girl with bright green hair pops her head out from behind a door, waving at the two of them.

Vanessa waves back, her eyebrows lifting higher and higher on her forehead when she realizes how tall the girl is as she walks closer. Even Brooke has to look up at her which is a strange sight on its own, considering how much Brooke towers over Vanessa.

Then again, Vanessa’s used to being the short one.

“Vanessa here is doubting the movie’s genius,” Brooke raises an eyebrow, and the girl lets out a fake gasp.

“Um, not a movie. Chicken Little is a film. An artistic masterpiece.”

“Are you two the presidents of the Chicken Little fan club?” Vanessa asks, as Brooke sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yes. And no, you can’t join.”

It’s interesting how Brooke’s work demeanor has dropped now that she’s in her own apartment, her normally squared shoulders a little more relaxed. It reminds Vanessa of when they went roller skating, seeing how much fun Brooke had while pulling her around the rink.

Vanessa wants to see more of it.

Brooke points at her roommate as the girl sticks out a hand. “Ness, this is Yvie. Yvie, Vanessa. I’m coaching her.”

“You’re introducing her as if I haven’t heard you talk about her every single day for the last however many months,” Yvie drawls and Brooke’s sputter is immediate, making Vanessa’s breath hitch a little in her throat.

Brooke talks about her?

Yvie pats Brooke on the back as if she’s choking on her water rather than on some words, sticking her other hand out for Vanessa to shake. “You’re Brooke’s favourite student. Also her only student, technically, but still a favourite nonetheless.”

Brooke’s cheeks are bright pink and Vanessa can’t deny that the sight is adorable, seeing her flustered for once. Still. Brooke probably recaps their training sessions and nothing more.

“As long as it’s mostly positive,” Vanessa shrugs, and the way Brooke emphatically nods makes her feel better than she wants to admit.

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

The platter of chicken nuggets that Yvie places on the coffee table with a flourish is impressive, to say the least. There’s a little bowl of ketchup on the side, along with sweet and sour sauce and something that looks to be...ranch?

Whatever it is, Vanessa’s nose wrinkles at the sight. “Which one of you eats ranch with chicken nuggets? Is that legal?”

Yvie’s cackle and Brooke’s flushed cheeks tell Vanessa all she needs to know as she plops down beside Brooke on the couch, nudging her side. “Really?”

“The flavour combination is great!” Brooke mutters, grabbing a chicken nugget and dipping it in the ranch for posterity, holding it up close to Vanessa’s face. “Try it.”

Vanessa scooches herself towards the edge of the couch, away from the chicken nugget and the ranch that’s slowly dripping down like a melting ice cream. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s delicious-”

“It’s cursed-”

“More for me, then,” Brooke tosses the chicken nugget into her mouth, and Vanessa’s not sure, really, how she’s handling the flavours together without puking. “You’re missing out.”

“Very happy to miss out on that, thank you very much. I’ll take the ketchup.”

It turns out that Chicken Little isn’t so bad with Yvie and Brooke peppering in commentary as they watch, and Vanessa finds herself getting swept into the plot, as ridiculous as it is. The glass of cider that Yvie’s brought for each of them is making Vanessa feel a little more relaxed, her shoulders not as stiff anymore as she leans against the back of the couch. It’s fun to watch Brooke’s face, really, and the way she lights up while quoting the movie as it plays.

Vanessa makes a mental note to invite Brooke over to watch more movies. Better movies. Expand her palate. Chicken Little cannot be at the top of Brooke’s movie pyramid, not when there are better choices available, like Pretty Woman. Sure, Vanessa’s not exactly a film connoisseur herself, but still. Anything beats Chicken Little, right?

Maybe it’s just the cider settling in, maybe it’s the full stomach of chicken nuggets, but...it’s nice. Comfortable. Vanessa pulls her feet up behind her on the couch before grabbing a throw pillow to hug on her lap, and really, she could fall asleep right where she’s sitting, even to the dulcet tones of the main chicken character screaming about an alien invasion. Brooke looks over as Vanessa settles herself more into the couch, her expression unreadable but then she reaches over the back of the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind them.

“Wanna share? It’s kinda cold.”

It’s not cold and Vanessa knows it, she knows that Brooke does too, but Brooke’s face is soft and tentative and adorable and sharing a blanket with her would make the couch situation even more cozy.

Plus, she can cuddle with Brooke, because Brooke is tall and thus is a tall, comfortable cushion to lean against.

Brooke throws the blanket across both of them and Vanessa scoots closer to her so that their laps are covered, the fabric fuzzy and warm. The side of Vanessa’s upper thigh leans against Brooke’s and she’s not sure why she’s so hyper aware of the fact, or why Brooke’s arm across the back of the couch makes her want to snuggle in even closer.

It’s just Brooke, after all. Brooke, who’s seen her when she’s all sweaty and about to collapse on the gym floor. Brooke, who had been there at her worst after the last tournament and still wants to coach her and spend time with her. Brooke, whose secret love for Twilight will never fail to make Vanessa laugh.

If it’s just Brooke, then why is Vanessa’s heart taking flight in her chest when Brooke starts to absentmindedly trace patterns on her palm? She doesn’t know why Brooke’s touch is lighting up a pattern of sparks on her skin either, or why Brooke’s side is so comfortable to lean against. Why Vanessa almost wishes that the movie could go on forever, so that she can stay warm and safe under Brooke’s arm that’s now draped across her shoulders.

Maybe Vanessa doesn’t need answers for all of those questions, not yet, not if finding out the answers would mean disrupting the delicate balance that hangs in the air between them. Brooke shuffles a little bit and when Vanessa’s head ends up against her chest, she can feel the way Brooke’s heart is beating, surely faster than any heart should. It’s a contrast from how seemingly relaxed the rest of Brooke’s body is, how her arms around Vanessa aren’t tense, restricting, but rather grounding, pulling her down.

Leaning back against Brooke is warm, familiar. It’s a feeling of home in a situation so novel, so different from how they usually are, like pulling on a sweater that Vanessa’s not sure how she’s ever lived without. Maybe, just maybe, Vanessa doesn’t ever have to take it off.

Vanessa doesn’t realize that the credits start rolling on the screen until Yvie rolls off of the lilac armchair, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. She lets out a yawn, stretching her arms up high before shutting off the TV. “I, for one, am exhausted. And as fun as this was, it’s my bedtime.”

Brooke snickers, and Vanessa can feel the way her chest reverberates underneath her. “You and I both know you’re about to go Facetime Scarlet.”

“That’s what bedtime means,” Yvie wiggles her eyebrows, and Brooke’s noise of disgust is immediate.

“Horrifying. You two better keep it down this time. My ears still haven’t recovered from overhearing you both last week,” Brooke shudders as Yvie cackles, shutting the door to her bedroom with a click.

Vanessa turns in Brooke’s grip, shooting a questioning look. Surely Yvie can’t be louder than the average person on Facetime. “Overhearing what?”

Brooke makes a face, the haunted look in her eyes almost comedic from the way that she sighs. “Let me put it this way. Yvie and her girlfriend are in a long distance relationship, which is hard on them for a multitude of reasons. One of them being their libidos.”

“Their libidos…” Vanessa trails off, her face falling when she realizes what Brooke means. “Oh no. Not that. Tell me not that.”

“Exactly that. They’re quieter over Facetime than they are when Scarlet visits, at least. That’s a blessing.”

Vanessa shudders. Sure, she’s not exactly quiet in bed either, but the thought of people on the other side of the wall being able to hear everything is horrifying, especially because of the fact that she lives with Alexis. Her sister does not need to know details about her sex life, that’s for sure.

Still, Vanessa wonders how loud Yvie must be. “How do they even make so much noise with phone sex, anyway? Yodel?”

“Mating calls that would fit in perfectly in a National Geographic documentary,” Brooke lets out a snicker, her hand clapping over her mouth when Yvie lets out an ‘I heard that!’ from behind her bedroom door. “Still, glad I’m not about to suffer through overhearing it alone. You’ve saved my evening.”

Vanessa snorts, pulling back from Brooke’s embrace to face her, leaning against the back of the couch. “Glad to be of service.”

Brooke is softness and kindness and contentment all at once, and the easy smile on her face is one that Vanessa feels so lucky to see the longer and longer that she knows her. It’s moments like these that Vanessa wants to hold on to forever - when Brooke’s guard is down, when her posture is relaxed and she’s looking over with eyes that Vanessa could drown in. She wants to package up this version of Brooke that isn’t tethered by reminders of her past, or with upholding a legacy that defines her whether she likes it or not. At times like this, Brooke isn’t a boxer with her father’s last name, or Vanessa’s coach responsible for facilitating her success. She’s just Brooke, a girl whose gaze is so mesmerizing that makes Vanessa’s breathing hitch in her throat without even realizing it.

Brooke holds out a hand and it’s almost second nature for Vanessa to link her fingers with hers, their hands fitting together in a way that doesn’t make sense, not when Vanessa’s hands are so much smaller. But Brooke’s grip is an anchor that keeps her from floating away, one that centers her and lets her focus on the upward curve of Brooke’s lips, the softness of her eyes when she smiles.

Except then Brooke’s brow is furrowing, a hint of concern in her eyes that Vanessa wants to brush away for her. “You okay? You’re quieter than usual.”

Vanessa can feel her face heating up as she stutters, pulling her eyes away from Brooke’s face to focus on the stitching along the couch cushions. “I’m fine. I...nothing.”

She can’t exactly go out and tell Brooke, someone who’s a coach and also a friend for that matter, that she’s just a little bit mesmerized by her face. Not something that’s likely to go over well.

Vanessa’s past relationships have been nothing short of peacocking, making herself known to those she’s had an interest in because they’d inevitably chase her right back. She knows her worth, knows how to go after what she wants, but…

What does she even want, now?

She doesn’t want Brooke, she can’t, not when Brooke is her coach and someone who’s becoming more and more important towards every aspect of her life, someone who she texts when she wakes up in the morning and who she’s messaging as she’s falling asleep.

Brooke’s not the type of person that Vanessa can parade around and go on a few dates with while drinking the cheapest wine on the menu for shits and giggles. She’s not someone that Vanessa can let go of easily, the way she’s had to with previous relationships that didn’t work out. Brooke is different from them.

She’s not disposable, not someone that Vanessa wants to let go of from her life. She isn’t someone that Vanessa can let go of at this point, because the thought of not seeing her amused expressions in the gym or the pride on her face while they’re training is too much to deal with. Vanessa’s only beginning to read through Brooke’s pages to learn more about her, and finding out little details that make her want to melt and pull Brooke just a little closer to her heart.

Brooke is too important.

Sure, Vanessa’s breath hitches in her chest whenever Brooke pulls her closer, and maybe Brooke’s smile is enough to drown out any background noise buzzing around them, but Vanessa also knows that she falls hard. And fast. She’s impulsive, following what her heart tells her to do and most of the time, she can deal with the consequences because she knows she’ll be able to get back up again.

But if this is a miscalculation? If saying something means that they’ll end up in pieces that neither of them will be able to put back together?

It’s too big of a risk. At least, for now.

Vanessa can’t be the one to take the jump off the cliff, not yet.

So she smiles, puts on the most reassuring expression that she can, hoping that it’s enough to soothe the concern that splays itself across Brooke’s features. “Really, I am. Just thinking about all the press shenanigans that Detox has lined up for me tomorrow.”

It’s enough for Brooke’s features to relax just a little bit, the smile on her face almost nostalgic. “I’m glad it’s you now, and not me, on Detox’s receiving end. She’s ruthless in the best way.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

There’s a sinking feeling in Vanessa’s chest by going for the cop out, but...she has no other choice. It’s not the way she normally handles situations like this, a fact made clear by how much she has to push down the butterflies in her stomach, and hide them behind a door so that they don’t escape and ruin stakes that feel too high, too much of a risk.

Still, Vanessa’s a bit of a sucker for punishment, and so when Brooke pulls her closer into a hug, it’s as easy as breathing to snuggle into her and rest her head against her chest, because Brooke’s arms are warm and safe and manage to slow her thinking down just a bit.

Part of Vanessa feels like she can handle it and hold herself back from doing anything stupid, if only to not mess everything up. She can be this close to Brooke and not have her chest split in two and maybe it’s a blessing, and something that she has to hold on to. Except that by leaning against Brooke, she can feel how fast Brooke’s heart is beating, threatening to escape from her chest before she can possibly stop it. It’s a contrast from the gentle way that Brooke’s fingers run through her hair, betraying the calmness on the outside that she’s trying so hard to convey.

Maybe Vanessa’s not the only one holding back. Maybe Brooke also feels it, maybe she’s also teetering on the bridge that Vanessa’s trying her best not to lose her footing on, and the thought gives Vanessa pause for a second, because maybe the risk is one they can manage, something they can work with...

No. No.

They can’t.

Not if it would lead to everything falling to pieces around them, not if it would mean no more training and no more Brooke in general. Because that’s how relationships always seem to end, don’t they?

As much as Vanessa has always wanted the romantic movie ending and a kiss in the rain, it hasn’t happened to her yet, much to her teenage self’s disappointment. There’s too much on the line to see if Brooke will be the one to veer her onto a different path and change the outcome.

So, Vanessa has to be happy with what she’s getting now, this friendship with Brooke and the coaching and accept it for all that it’s worth. Because Brooke’s important, maybe the most important person in Vanessa’s life and she has to take what she gets.

She’s lucky enough to have it in the first place, after all.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #lesbian au #boxing au #boxer au #level up #holtzmanns

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roseabelle21 · 3 years

Text

Sypnosis: It had been over five years since your last encounter with a certain explosive blond. Ever since then, you're happy. You felt complete, fulfilled, and contented. Going on that date with Inasa was the best decision you have ever made in your entire life, he went from being your fanboy to your future husband. Quite a story to tell if I do say so myself. Life is good. Though someone says otherwise.

Read before you proceed: That Your Love Is Gone.

Status: Edited

Tagging: @jazzylove

He stared at the white envelope before him, unfeeling. He didn't know how long he's been staring at it, maybe when he opened the mail and placed it down his table? That was well over an hour ago.

Katsuki just stared at the envelope, like it's going to explode the moment he opened it. The paper won't, but his heart just might.

Wait, is it still beating? He thought it stopped the moment he saw you two locked lips once in the coffee shop. Boy, did that sight hurt like a bitch, yet he pretended that he saw nothing and held on his mug in a bone-crushing grip. Kirishima and Denki had pointed it out to him discreetly before it exploded. He stomped out of the shop before you noticed that he was there.

The two of you had avoided each other ever since that disaster of a confession. The only communication both of you ever had was on joint missions together, and you won't even speak to the other unless necessary.

He wanted to talk to you again, but his pride and humiliation won't let him.

Selfishly, he prayed that the date with Inasa didn't go well, still hoping that he still had the chance to be with you. Or when he found out that you two are finally official, things between you won't work out in the end and go your separate ways.

That didn't happen much, to his dismay. The wedding invitation on his table said otherwise.

Katsuki knows it's wrong, waiting patiently for the day that your relationship with the whirlwind user to fuck up, and he'll be there to sweep you away from him, and maybe knock teeth or two out.

He scoffed at his thoughts. All of this was his fault. He knows it, knowing full well that he can't do anything to change the past. He even tried dating other people to get over you, alas the hunt remains fruitless. He can't look at another girl, much less be with them without thinking of you.

After all these years, he still loves you.

Pathetic.

His silent tears hit the cold floor. He didn't even bother wiping them away. His ruby eyes continued to burn holes at the letter before him. Heart pounding in his ears, he felt like he couldn't breathe, his heart aching, mind empty, wishing that he'd wake up soon and end this nightmare. Maybe even wake up with you by his side.

No matter how hard he tried to stop, his wishful thinking is always there. Even he knows that it's not healthy thinking that way about someone for so long. It's been five years, for Christ's sake! His heart needs to let you go.

But how could it? Every time he sees you, it feels like there is a fucking zoo rampaging on his stomach, every time you smile or laugh, it puts the sun to shame because of how bright and warm it is. He wished that he was still the one causing those.

Before then, he didn't need to do much to make you happy. Him being himself was all he needed to be; his sarcastic remarks and angry faces were a few of the things that put a smile on your face.

He likes being the source of your happiness until he wasn't.

Katsuki swallowed the lump on his throat, taking a deep breath before wiping his eyes. He waited for a bit of a steady, racing heart and mind before gently picking up the envelope, careful not to make even the slightest of crumple.

He could have burned his hand honestly, that's how bad it hurts. Maybe it's just his imagination, but he can smell the tiniest bit of your favourite flowers. Katsuki held the paper to his nose a gave it a smell; it has a scent.

He smirked, imagining you insisting that the paper is scented since it is a special occasion, the amount of scented paper you used for your friends at every holiday and birthday to make your cards.

Katsuki then opened it, making sure to be extra gentle when tearing it up. He stared at it again, that open flap with the letter inside. It's there, his worst nightmare.

With a heavy heart, he took it out and admired its designing and details: the swirls and flowers embroidered on the sides, the fancy calligraphy in your names, the neat print below with the details of the wedding, and the picture of you and your fiancee.

His heart clenched seeing it, yet at the same time, he felt a small glimmer of happiness that came along with it.

Your smile, it was so beautiful, so genuine, so happy.

Tears made its way down his cheeks again, and despite that, he grinned.

He's happy that you found someone that can treat you better than he can. And even if he's no longer the one making you happy, he can't do anything to stop that.

He read the invitation; although it pained him to continue reading it, he was happy that he even got an invite. Despite not talking much this past few years, he's satisfied that he still got invited.

Katsuki placed the paperback in the envelope and placed it down. He's happy for you, he is, and then, he's hit with an epiphany.

Pulling out his phone, he took a deep breath and searched his contacts, then he messaged them.

To (Y/N): Can we talk?

It's oddly peaceful.

Katsuki has attended a few weddings in his life, and from what he's experienced, all of they tend to be chaotic in one way or another.

It's either one of the family members is late, missing a tux or a dress, god forbid the annoying children running around without a care in the world whilst their mothers frantically chase them around. Now, he's not seeing any of them.

Quite the opposite. Everyone seems to be on time, have everything they need, and surprisingly, the children are cooperating. It's almost scary, almost unnatural. And it's freaking him out.

Maybe the Maid of Honor has something to do with it. She's snapping at everyone who so much makes a noise or goes out of line. Running back and forth when someone calls her for help, checking everyone's process every ten minutes. Making sure everyone is right on schedule.

Katsuki can't help but feel bad for her, dealing with so much pressure in one body can be tiring. Alas, there's nothing he can do about it. Although he finds her quite cute when angry, he knows nothing about her other than she's (Y/N)'s cousin.

The rest of the Bakusquad are chilling on a bench near the pool. Everyone already had their hair, make-up, and dressed done. Mina is talking with Jirou and Yaoyorozu, planning on their girls day with the newlywed woman soon. Kirishima and Sero are talking about their latest missions, and last but not least, Kaminari staring at the Maid of Honor with a bit of drool on the corner of his mouth.

"You look like an idiot dunce face," Kaminari jumped at Katsuki's voice," she might think you're a weirdo more than you already are if you keep staring at her like that."

"Oh shit, you're right." The blond immediately wiped his mouth and straightened his tux, fixing his hair and clearing his throat.

"Sorry, she's charming, though. Like an angry chihuahua." Jirou slapped the arm of the blond with a scowl on her face.

"Don't say that! You don't even know her." Everyone can tell her questioning look.

"You talk as if you know her Jirou," Sero inquired. The girl shrugged as she twirled her ear with a finger.

“We work to the same radio studio. She's the one who does the cover songs and news most of the time."

"No way! She's DJ Fox?!" Kirishima and Kaminari shrieked, fanboying.

"Man, that is so cool! You gotta introduce us!"

"No," Jirou replied immediately.

Before anyone could react, the girl of the subject yelled at her mage phone. Telling everyone to proceed to the church and get in line as planned.

Katsuki stood up and glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd. The door of your room opened, and his heart leapt at the throat, imagining how beautiful you would look in your wedding dress. That fuzzy feeling soon turned into a mix of rage and disappointment as the once again Maid of Honor rushed to your door and yelled at you for being impatient.

Everyone made it to the church in no time. The groom and his best man were shoving each other playfully to ease his nerves. Katsuki immediately glanced away from them, remembering his talk with you a few months ago.

Not long after they were in place, the music started playing. One by one, everyone walked down the aisle, his partner looking at him anxiously, but he couldn't care less. His mind wandered.

There you are, sitting at the corner of the cafe, looking outside with a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of you with a pastry beside it. Another pair of coffee and pastry beside it, which he assumes as his since it was his favourite.

Slowly, he and his partner stopped for a short while for the photographer before proceeding on their walking.

Small talks and laughs were made, the atmosphere between the two of you more at ease, unlike before. As happy as he looks, his heart can't help but shatter every time your ring glows in the sunlight.

The rest of the guests followed; not long after, the door shuts, and everyone stands up in their seats. The familiar music filled the air.

He apologized. Apologized again and again, and you could only give him your soft eyes and smile. Not pitying him one bit, only looking at him with fondness in your eyes as you took his hands between yours.

Inasa was crying as soon as the door opened, the light momentarily blinding your features, but when it faded, Katsuki can also feel his eyes tearing up.

"I should have told you what you meant to me," he says, voice breaking up.

Cause now I paid the price.

Words can't describe how beautiful you look walking down the aisle in the arm of your parents. A wide smile is plastered permanently on your face as you look at the man in front of you. All the love is visible in both of your eyes as you look at your significant other like they are the only person in the room.

You reached the front of the altar, your parents kissing you on both cheeks before hugging you and your crying groom.

Katsuki's heart warmed at the sight of you laughing softly at Inasa, placing your hands on his face as you wiped his tears with your thumbs. The said man is grinning at you despite the tears that continue to flow down his cheeks.

Katsuki didn't realize that his tears escaped his eyes. Had it Kirishima not point it out. He quickly wiped them away and stood up straight. The faux redhead is gently patting the blond at his back and offering him a sympathetic smile.

As Katsuki continued to observe the both of you, and he couldn't help but smile at the pure, childlike happiness on your faces. He can feel his heart slowly letting go. Letting go of his jealously, the bitterness, and the anger he has left for himself.

Though the only thing he can never let go of is his love for you. It might not be the same love he has with you before, but he is and will always love you till the end of time. He loves you enough to let you go.

Maybe in another life, he can make your stay. He never planned that one day, he'd be losing you. Now here he is, watching you get married to the love of your life.

He never imagined this, not without him there with you, but he certainly isn't regretting it.

#katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki angst #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakagou katsuki x y/n

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ofsgraham · 4 years

Text

hello, lovelies! I’m poppy and cannot wait to get this party started. here’s a bit about graham and feel free to hmu or like this and I’ll come at ya!

♪ harry styles. cis man. twenty-four. he/him. ♪ is GRAHAM JENSON here again? gosh, they really love it here. they have been coming to reckless records for THREE MONTHS. they’re always requesting DISORDER BY JOY DIVISION to be played. everyone says they’re +TENACIOUS and +CHARMING but can also be -OVERLY-ANALYTICAL and -STUBBORN. oh look, they’re in aisle 10! ( ooc: poppy, 23, est, she/her)

Stats:

Full Name: Graham Brian Jenson Age: 24 Birthday: Nov. 7th Hometown: Upper East Side, NY Religion: Agnostic Occupation: Unemployed Tattoos: Too many to name but here’s a few: -hydra on his right side -sister’s name on his left wrist -koi fish (black and white) on his right calf Drug use: Yes, mostly pot Alcohol use: Yes (probably more than he should) Positive Traits: Tenacious, Charming, Intelligent, Protective Negative Traits: Overly-Analytical, Stubborn, Lazy, Self-Sabotaging

Bio/Background:

Born and raised in Upper East Side, NY by parents who both came from Old Money, Graham wished for nothing as a kid. He had the best schools, the most opportunities, and everything he asked for. Of course, there was a darker side to his family. His father was an abusive alcoholic, and raged terror upon him and his mother and little sister.

Graham took it on himself to defend his mother and little sister from the worst of it. Accepting his place as the true ‘man’ of the house. He would purposefully rile his father up so that he wouldn’t take his anger out on Graham’s other family. It resulted in far too many hospital visits, but given his family’s connections, they were able to cover everything up with ease.

Perhaps due to his family situation, Graham has always been a disappointment to his family. While his sister excelled in school and is on her way to becoming a success that their parents always dreamed of, Graham has fallen short in every category. He barely graduated from high school, and it was hardly the type of impressiveness that was usually associated with his family.

Graham dismisses any type of ambition, preferring to enjoy the moment and indulge himself in everything and anything he finds amusing. This created a rift between him and his mother, and made their relationship irreparable. His relationship with his father was always broken, but it became even worse when Graham got kicked out of college.

From then on, it was a constant party. He chased women, got written about in the New York Post, and was aimless. He created more than just one scandal, and was seen as an embarrassment and failure amongst his family and the other elite.

His parents decided they had enough of his antics eventually, and forced him to leave New York City. He traveled around the globe for a year or so, finding ways to entertain himself while keeping out of the eyes of tabloids as his parents instructed.

Then, his dad died in car wreck, and he was drawn home. For months, he cared for his mother, who could barely function given the loss. Despite his treatment, his mother still loved him, and Graham took it on himself to make sure his sister could continue school while he made sure their mother stayed alive.

It was only recently that Graham left New York, deciding that he needed a change of pace. He needed to find something to do with his life. For a while, he just drove around the country, looking for anything that would spark his attention. Eventually, he stumbled upon the town of Willows Peak. He never thought he’d end up in a place like this, but he doesn’t regret it.

Though he’s only been here three months, he already feels much more connected to it than he did with anywhere else he’s ever been. Still, old habits are hard to break. As much as he wants to find himself and do something important with his life, he isn’t sure he’s ready for it, or even what it could be.

Extras:

He has always loved music and books more than anything else. They’re the only ‘hobbies’ he really has. His collection of vinyl and paperbacks has accumulated greatly since he’s arrived in Willows Peak. It’s the only thing he’s ever really been passionate about, hence hanging out at Reckless Records.

His sister is really the only person he’s ever fully opened up to about struggles with depression and anxiety. He knows he should’ve talked to someone about it long ago, but his sister is the only one he trusts. Besides, he figures he can just brush it off and ignore it, like he does with all his other problems.

He doesn’t use drugs often, but he does probably drink a bit too much. Most of it is social, but he knows he can always turn to some whiskey if he’s having a particularly rough mental health day.

His father’s death impacted him in ways he still is figuring out, but he is afraid to face that, and chooses to push it in a corner of his mind where he doesn’t have to look at it.

Can be quite lazy as he’s never had to work for anything in his life and doesn’t have a plan to do so in the immediate future.

He’s a privileged boi pls come at him and tell him to get a job

Probably will fight for you

Momma’s boy we hate it here he just wants someone to take care of him

Probably a little too obsessed with tattoos and will go on and on about them or ask you a million questions about your own.

A disaster child lbr needs to grow up but also can’t really blame him entirely given what he’s been through

Wanted Connections (these are super super general as I like to come with specific plots depending on your muse(s) but just some vague ideas to throw out there):

Hook-up

Enemy/Person he fights with constantly (he’s annoying wbk someone needs to fight him)

Love/Hate relationship

Best Bro

Drinking/Smoking buddies

Dealer

Musical Soulmate

Person who reminds him of his sister (aka v v protective over them and only wants good things for them)

#recklessintro #abuse tw #alcoholism tw #depression tw #anxiety tw #background: 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕦𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 #it's been a hot sec since I've rp'd rip so have this mess I'm sorry

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Note

oooooo, Renji drabbles! you’ve mentioned before how you suspect that Renji and Shuuhei were a thing once upon a time... is it possible you can write a drabble where they’re on a date together? They’re only two of the hottest guys in the realm

Abarai Renji was on a date.

He’d been on a few dates in his life, disastrous occasions when Momo had stuffed him in a yukata and sent him out with some fresh-scrubbed, extremely nice girl she had dredged up somewhere. The girls would talk and talk and steal glances at his tattoos and guilt would well up in his chest until he wanted to vomit and at the end, they would kiss him on the cheek and he would make it a point to never see them again.

Today, he was wearing yesterday’s uniform and wandering around a flea market in a weird, eclectic Seireitei neighborhood that he’d never been to before, watching Hisagi Shuuhei root through a bin of Living World automotive parts. His boyfriend, Hisagi Shuuhei.

Renji had slept with Shuuhei enough times that he no longer kept count. Shuuhei cooked him dinner at least twice a week and Renji would bring over beers or sake. They usually sat next to each other at the bar, and he’d throw his arm around Shuuhei’s shoulders and Shuuhei would put a hand on his knee and it was very comfortable like that. Renji had started keeping a toothbrush at Shuuhei’s place, and then decided that he didn’t like sharing Shuuhei’s hair gel, and now probably three quarters of the shit Shuuhei’s bathroom was actually his. People would constantly call his phone asking for Shuuhei, because Shuuhei’s phone was perpetually out of battery, not that Renji’s was ever at more than a single digit’s worth of charge.

So last week, when Shuuhei asked him if he wanted to be boyfriends and Renji said “no” and then Shuuhei asked him which part of this he wanted to stop doing, he said “none of it” and then he was forced to concede that maybe he did want to be boyfriends and now they were on a date.

It wasn’t so bad.

The weather was nice, and Renji was eating a taiyaki at 10am, which was, in his opinion, the very acme of gratuitous self-indulgence. Shuuhei had bought it for him because he said “he looked extra cute in the morning” and also, he’d found some money in his pocket that he forgot he had.

“Oi, Renji, do you know what a spark plug actually looks like?” Shuuhei shouted from neck deep in his bucket of parts. It occurred to Renji that Shuuhei usually called him Abarai in public, but maybe first names were part of this new regime they were now operating under.

“I do not,” Renji admitted. “Maybe we could try to find one on the motorbike and take it out and bring it with us next time. You have that book with the diagrams, so we can probably figure out where to find it.”

“Ah, you’re so smart!” Shuuhei exclaimed and Renji blushed because no one ever said that to him, maybe not in his entire afterlife.

The Guilt curled in Renji’s stomach, slow and throbbing, but it wasn’t choking, consuming, like it used to be. He had always thought the Guilt was for Rukia-- that he was betraying her, cheating on her, somehow. But he didn’t owe Rukia anything, to be honest, any more than she owed him. She was living a fantastic life somewhere, probably having pitted cherries placed directly in her mouth while someone else painted her fingernails. She sure wasn’t waiting around for him to show up and shout his undying devotion to her. In fact, he could practically imagine the horrified face she would make at him if she found out he’d been pining over her.

No, the Guilt was for the other girls, Momo’s pretty, doe-eyed friends that he was never, ever going to fall in love with, no matter how much they flipped their hair at him. His heart was burnt down to a cinder-- a black, dusty thing, too hot to touch, and in danger of falling to ash if someone were to try. You could only love for so hard, for so long without getting anything back. Then, you started burning yourself up instead, from the inside out.

That had been a long time ago, though. Even if he still missed Rukia like hell, there were other good parts of life these days. His fights with Ikkaku were getting pretty even these days. He even got to spar with the Kenpachi once in a while, which was both exciting and flattering and then, two minutes later, deeply, deeply painful. He liked being Sixth Seat, not just because it paid well, but because he liked working with the unseated guys, liked teaching them how to be real swordsmen, not just loud goons. After years of Yumichika making him rub flowery smelling stuff on his face and in his hair, there was a pretty good looking guy staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. A guy who felt good about looking good, a guy who now knew how to pick out his own flowery smelling face goops.

“I think,” he had explained to Shuuhei, the only person to whom he had ever explained the burnt-up cinder heart theory, “that there might be a little chunk of it, like the size of my thumb, that’s not all the way toasted, just maybe really tough and chewy, like beef jerky.”

And Shuuhei had looked him in the eyes, real soft-like, and said, “Pal, your tiny little dried up beef jerky heart probably has more love in it than most people have in their entire body. You have been up front with me, which I respect a lot, and I’m willing to take my chances anyway.”

Shuuhei currently was surveying the street like an explorer deciding which path he wanted to take through a jungle. “You wanna go see the leatherwork stall? They had some sweet wrist cuffs last time, really gorgeous tooling.”

“Why do you always want to look at stuff that you can’t afford?” Renji groused. He’d been trying to start saving again, since he got his raise, something he hadn’t done since he was at the Fifth. He couldn’t decide which it was that was making him more grouchy-- having to put limits on his expenses, or how little was actually piling up in the bank account he’d opened. He wasn’t even sure what he was saving for. It just seemed like money was something a functional adult should have. He wasn’t exactly sure he would classify himself as a functional adult, but it was something to aspire to.

Shuuhei stretched, and rested his hands on the back of his head. “Sometimes it’s fun to just browse,” he shrugged. “You’re so practical, Renji, you should let your imagination out a little, once in a while.”

Renji’s face must have done something stupid, because Shuuhei quickly followed up with, “Things don’t always have to pan out to be worth dreaming of. C’mon, I know you’re dead jealous of those flashy goggles Iba’s been wearing lately.”

Renji wrinkled his nose because he was. Iba’s new shades were cool as fuck and expensive as fuck, too. Iba had offered to let him try them on, and Renji had said no because he was almost positive he would look better in them than Iba and he didn’t want to have to go around thinking about that all the time.

“We can go to the used book place instead,” Shuuhei offered. Shuuhei was really good at hopping off subjects that Renji was sensitive about. He’d probably been doing it for a while, but Renji had just gotten around to noticing. “It’s all shitty, falling-apart paperbacks, but they’re pretty cheap, plus I have a bunch of credit, because I trade mine in when I’m done with ‘em.”

“Ah, that sounds nice,” Renji, who had a great love for shitty, falling-apart paperbacks, replied. “But let’s swing by the leather place, too.” He crumpled up the paper from his taiyaki and threw it in a high arc into a nearby wastecan. Then wiped his hand on his hakama, and held out his hand, flexing his fingers obnoxiously. “I bet I would look good in wrist cuffs.”

Shuuhei grinned and immediately lowered his hands from his head so he could grab Renji’s. “You would look so good in wrist cuffs.”

And off they went, together.

#happy birthday renji!#renji abarai #shuuhei hisagi #my writing #drabbles

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drlauralwalsh · 4 years

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The Lusty World of Lesbian Widows

I’m really frustrated that COVID has gotten in the way of my grief achievements. I figured 3 months in, I’d be doing the television talk show circuit, sold my book, and set up a non-profit foundation. If only this pandemic hadn’t gotten in my way.

In my life before, if I spent too much time alone (like, over 4 hours), I’d start texting my sister-in-law that I was unsupervised and feral. Uh oh. I’d start going down rabbit holes and come up with weird stuff like how buff male kangaroos get. Or questioning if my parents were really married since I couldn’t find a record of their union in the limited online databases. I could have paid for real records but I’m cheap. I know, sounds crazy.

But now, I’m alone for long stretches of time. I’ve managed to channel some of this agitated energy into writing essays that speak to weirdos like me (shout out to my fellow weirdos!). I spend hours researching (me-searching as we said in grad school) and discovering overachieving methods to dam the waters of my new spouse-less life.

I’m not just your average widow. Oh no no no. Of course, I have to be special so allow me to tack on some extra layers - lesbian, stepmom, and young (-ish, right?). At 45, I have finally found a way to inch back towards the youth and relevance lost as you enter the fourth decade of life. Today, I’d like to let you into the wonders of lesbianism.

I’m going to assume you’re not submerged in this subculture so I’ll tell you some secrets. People are fascinated by lesbians. To be fair, we live pretty mysterious lives. We leave you hanging on profound questions like who takes out the trash and how do they have sex without a woody woodpecker? Sometimes, other communities get lumped in with us but they are actually quite different. Of these witches, spinsters, and women who wear comfortable shoes, I only belong to only one of those so far. I’m working on my stovetop skills and hope to someday conjure a penis. Not a real one; that would be weird.

Amazon’s book market best represents the variable interests of our fan club members. Right after my wife died, I launched a search for books on “lesbian widows.” You’d think the algorithms would have pegged me by now (ha ha). I was dismayed yet amused by the grand interpretation of what Amazon thought I meant. The following is an unedited list of the top books recommended for me to purchase under these auspicious terms:

Lesbian Widows: Invisible Grief

by Victoria Whipple (Kindle $25.98, Paperback $46.95, Hardcover $907.71)

I’m impressed that the first one actually included my search terms but dang, it’s expensive to be a lesbian widow. To be fair, you can rent it for $9.21 a month. It’s also terribly niche within an already small niche - invisible lesbian widows? Published in 2014, you’d think it would be a little more hip. Maybe it’s because I live in Chicago but even as an introvert, I’m decently visible. Still, glad it exists and appeals to all eight people who each gave it a 5-star rating.

The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows: Feminine Pursuits

by Olivia Waite (Kindle $3.99, Paperback $6.99)

I must quote the basic plot description for you to get the full impact of this novel: “The last thing the widow wants is to be the victim of a thousand bees. But when a beautiful beekeeper arrives to take care of the pests, Agatha may be in danger of being stung by something far more dangerous…” The cover depicts said wapish widow sit/leaning against her handsome, pants suit-clad beekeeper. At the much less expensive price for kindle and paperback, I’m only slightly put off by labeling bees as pests.

Odd women?: Spinsters, lesbians and widows in British women's fiction, 1850s–1930s

by Emma Liggins (Kindle $73.24, Hardcover $95.00)

The period is a little off but at least it includes diverse, international women. I was looking for a self help book but this seems slightly more academic. Not sure why there’s a question mark in the title as there’s no question about our oddity. The description reads, “Women outside heterosexual marriage in this period were seen as abnormal, superfluous, incomplete and threatening, yet were also hailed as ‘women of the future’.” Aw shucks, I *am* ahead of my time. Dang that price tag! No renting option for this one.

The Grass Widow

by Nanci Little (Kindle $0.00, Paperback $14.95)

It’s unclear where we’ll find the lesbian widow in this 2010 novel but the description yields some mild foreshadowing: “As a familiar civilization fades into the distance, she is nineteen, unmarried and pregnant, and has no reason to think that the year 1876 won't be her last...Joss, in her brother's clothes and severely lacking in social graces, has no time to mollycoddle a pampered, pregnant New England lady. It's work or starve, literally. There are no servants, no laborers - just a failing farm, impending winter and the two of them to face it together.” It sounds like the shameless Joss needs her own dose of mollycoddling (wink, wink) to get through the chilly nights.

Her Widow

by Joan Alden (Paperback $18.00)

More popular with 10 people giving it an almost stellar rating, this tomb’s immodest summary insists it belongs on every bookshelf. YOU WILL PAY ATTENTION TO US! That’s how I read it. Seriously, of all the books this one comes the closest to what I actually wanted. Waiting for the kindle unlimited edition….(having no man money makes us frugal).

Made For You 3

by K. Shantel (Kindle $4.99)

Apparently, Made For You 1 and 2 were not as popular. Despite the fair price, this tale omits widows opting for the groundbreaking combination of lesbian romance and football. While tragedy surely threads through this plot, it falls short of crossing the threshold from football to death (it probably does). Shocker, I defy the sporty lesbian trope and instead prefer to spend time among my vast, treasured collection of power tools. Just to be clear, I mean the ones for home repair (get your mind out of the gutter!) If the lady protagonists of this book had been thrown together building a Habitat for Humanity house with their 10 dogs using only their Subaru to transport lumber, I might be more captivated.

The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics, Book 1 of 1: Feminine Pursuits Series

by Olivia Waite (Kindle $3.99, Paperback $6.99)

I’ll give the author the benefit of believing there are more to come in the series. The title of this one intrigues me (I may steal it later) but sadly, it also defaults to worn stereotypes. This collection of lesbian tropes finds my kin scoring yet another toaster for the conversion of a hapless straight lady. Lesbians for the win! Lady Reads-A-Lot gave it 5 stars and commented, “This was poetic and lovely, full of beautiful descriptions that knew exactly how to leave you breathless and then stop just before tipping into tedious.” I’m guessing she means the sex scenes? If you’ve ever watched any real lesbian porn, you know that it’s far better for the participants than the viewers.

Erotica: The Forbidden Adventures Of A Grieving Widow (Seduction, Lust, Lesbian Sex, Interracial Sex, Bondage and More)

by Amy King (Kindle $0.00)

This one is hands down, my favorite title and you can’t beat the price. The author keeps the marketing short to sell you her novel: “All Ava wanted was to erase the memory of her recently departed husband. Little did she know that in trying to do so, she would experience mind-blowing adventures and lust across the globe. Ava would never be the same again as she ravenously eats up whatever adventure blows her way.” Even though it’s another toaster novel, as a grieving widow ‘ravenously eats up’ does resonate. I don’t think she means jars of cookie butter.

Of the eight masterpieces on the list, five are romance novels, one is academic, and two are in the ballpark (excuse the sports metaphor). Scrolling further only yields more erotica including another novel titled, “Football Widows (lesbian)” by Amanda Mann and Deadlier Than the Male Publications. Now I get it that we make up a small percentage of the population but this is some seriously messed up shit.

Removing the lesbian and searching only for ‘widow’ yields twenty pages of books. I know what you’re thinking - “C’mon Laura, what’s the big deal? Just get the standard widow book.” And believe me, I’ve amassed quite the collection and am waiting for just the right intersection of not too devastated but ready to sob. Bear with me for a sec - think about how we just want to be seen when we’re at our lowest. When I first typed those words into the search bar, I just wanted something that used wife instead of husband.

Every grief has specific salient elements and it’s too super niche to touch on all at the same time. It would be weird and/or maybe nice to find another lesbian widow stepmom psychologist who lost her cop wife of almost 5 years to a PTSD-induced psychotic break and suicide. That’s a Subaru full of identities. If this person did exist, I’d be suspicious we’re the target on Incel trolls, longing to read the words of more seductive, witchy lesbians. Instead, I plan on taking the high road. I’ll get my knowledge and support from those who accept me by the category. Obviously, one out of one lezzies agree there’s a market for lesbian widow self help guides - at the right price. I may still write that book but if I want to get rich, I’ll definitely have to add more sex scenes.

#lesbian #widow #amazon #books #humor

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yehet-me-up · 6 years

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Wherever I’m With You

Pairing: Xiumin/Minseok x Reader

Word Count: 2,124

Genre: Fluff AF

Summary: When your flight is grounded on Christmas Eve your boyfriend does his best to recreate the Christmas of your dreams for you.

‘I’m getting nervous,’ you start, worrying your lip between your teeth, watching the clock. ‘I don’t want to be, but I am.’

Your flight from your parents house to New York went smoothly, but the connecting flight onward back home kept getting pushed later and later. The swirls of snow outside had been growing stronger and stronger as the hours stretched closer to evening.

‘I know darling. But even if we’re stuck here we’ll be together, right?’ he replies with a grin, tugging your lip free with his thumb and giving you a lingering kiss.

When he pulls back you nod at him and settle back into his arms. ‘You’re right. And it was worth it to stay the extra two days so we could spend more time with the family.’

‘I still can’t believe your dad beat me at Kings last night, I honestly thought I’d die from that hangover this morning,’ he laughs, raising his eyes to the ceiling in amusement.

‘Well, dad likes to send people off in style,’ you laugh along.

You watch him with a grin, remembering the way he’d carefully balanced proving himself to your family by being a great player but also cautiously allowing your dad to win at the drinking cards game. It warmed you inside and out thinking about how easily they all got along.

The way your mom asked him about forty-seven times during dinner if he wanted more to eat. The friendly hug and clap on the shoulder he’d gotten from your father this morning when you set off for the airport. Your sister’s disbelieving noise of excitement at the gift he’d spotted and brought specifically for her from the art fair in town last month.

It felt like the final pieces of you sliding into place to see how well all the people in your life meshed together. Even if you were sad to be possibly spending Christmas away from the apartment you’d gotten together a few months ago, the apartment that you’d been excitedly decorating since November 1st, you were together. And he was right, that was everything.

He reads his paperback with one hand, his other slung over your shoulder rubbing light circles on your arm comfortably. You don’t think you’ll ever get over the way he always wants to be touching you. Lovingly, possessively; a hand on your knee during dinner, his back pressed to yours as you fall asleep. The casually intimate way your bodies seemed to find each other any time you’re in the same room.

‘Attention passengers on flight 687 to Seoul, unfortunately due to extreme weather conditions all departing flights are grounded for this evening. We apologize for this delay, please see a representative at the counter to discuss options for this evening until we can book you on another flight. Thank you for your understanding,’ a pleasant female voice finishes from overhead.

You turn your face into his jacket and sigh and he leans down to kiss you head. ‘I’m sorry baby,’ he says softly into your hair. ‘You wait here, I’ll get this handled.’

Pulling back you tuck your hair behind your ears and give him as big a smile as you can muster. When you meet his look you know he understands. It’s not the tree or the lights or the presents waiting at home. It’s the big dinner you guys were planning with all your friends, the first in your new apartment since he’d been traveling so much lately.

It was waking up on Christmas morning together. You try not to be sad, remembering that you will still be with him, even if it’s not at home.

You nod and pull out your phone. ‘I’ll let our friends know we won’t be home for dinner tomorrow,’ you say softly.

With another kiss to your temple he sets his book down and joins the small line at the counter. The messages come through fast, all your friends sad that you won’t be there. They send supportive and encouraging messages, saying you guys will all do a dinner as soon as you’re home and that they’ll all be more than happy to do another day of feasting and opening presents.

You compose yourself together into someone who isn’t disappointed and you mostly succeed by the time he comes back. He waves two slips of paper with an encouraging smile before folding them and carefully slipping them into his pocket.

‘How’d it go?’ you ask, sitting up and slinging your purse across your chest while he grabs his bag.

‘It looks like the storm should be blowing over by tomorrow about lunchtime, so they’ve booked us for the 1:10PM flight and are putting us up at the airport Hilton tonight,’ he says, reaching out to rub your arms.

Without pause he pulls you into his arms and rests his head on yours. He sighs, holding his entire world in his arms, and wishes he could magically transport you home. To your warm bed with the brand new bright yellow bedspread that reminds you of sunrise, much the same way he is reminded of the sun whenever you smile. To your two cats that sleep in between the two of you, much the same way he dreams that two small children will one day.

His mind is already working on a plan, trying to figure out how he can make the best of this situation; make this, your favorite holiday, as good as possible. He checks his watch and sees it’s not too terribly late and the gears in his mind start whirling.

‘Shall we go and get cozy?’ he asks in a comforting voice in your ear for just you to hear.

‘Yeah, let’s do it,’ you say giving him a warm smile and sliding your hand into his.

He does his best to distract you with your favorite word game as you walk through the airport, collect your luggage, and get checked into the hotel. The room is bright, and bigger than he’d hoped, though the bedspread is a discordant shade of red. You both set down your stuff and he feels a tug at his heart as you look around with a slight frown.

It turns into a smile when you look at him and he falls in love all over again. With how willing you always are to look on the bright side and to try to make the best out of a situation. With how you always turn to him first, trusting that as long as you’re together you can do anything. And with the fact that as long as you’re together, he’s home.

‘Why don’t you take a nice long shower? We’ve had a busy day and I want you to relax,’ he starts, walking over to flick the light on in the bathroom and nodding when he sees it’s not too bad. ‘I’ll go grab some dinner for us and we can find a movie to watch?’ he asks hopefully, turning to you and raising his brows.

‘Sounds good,’ you say with a smirk, walking over to give him a kiss. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to join me?’ you ask hopefully, trailing your fingers down his chest.

He groans and closes his eyes for a second. ‘I’d love to, but it’s Christmas Eve and I want to make sure my baby get a good Christmas Eve dinner tonight.’

‘Just be back soon, okay?’ you say with a soft smile.

‘Will do, darling,’ he says backing toward the door, savoring looking at you as long as he can.

Once he’s out the door he checks that the handle locks behind him, just to make sure his love is safe. It’s exhilarating, he thinks as he walks back to the elevator, the way part of his heart now lives inside someone else. It makes him feel masculine and proud, but also so terribly vulnerable and soft. All he wants tonight is to make you as happy as you always make him.

He pulls out his phone on the elevator to search the nearest store and pulls up a huge Target one street over that is miraculously open until 7pm. The moment the elevator doors open he dashes through the lobby and out onto the street. He pushes the button to cross the street seven times before dropping his hand and laughing to himself.

Finally, it goes and he sprints the short distance to the Target. As soon as he steps inside, breathing heavily, he grabs a basket and heads for the Christmas decorations section. It’s surprisingly fully stocked for the lateness of the day so he picks up a few things without thinking about it. A small, adorable fake tree. Three packs of light strings.

Next he heads to be bedding section and picks up a cozy looking yellow blanket. Off he runs to the food aisle, just as the ten minute closing announcement plays over the loudspeakers. He grabs a bottle of your favorite wine, two pre-made packs of sushi, and a chocolate cake to split.

He checks his watch, estimating the time he’s been gone, and rushes off to the cashier. Thankfully, there’s no one but an anxious to leave cashier and he pays quickly before dashing back out the door with his bags. Excitement over his surprise carries him back to the hotel and to the room.

He takes several deep breaths and leans his ear against the door. With a sigh of relief he still hears the shower going. Looking around the room he quickly lays out his impromptu feast and the tree on the table, realizing with a laugh that he didn’t get any glasses. He moves on with a shrug, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d shared a bottle. Smothering a laugh he remembers how you always tell him to not bother wasting a glass.

With a flourish he spreads the blanket over the bed and reaches down to tear the tag off. Much better, he thinks.

Now the white walls of the room feel much more like home, accented by the yellow. Your favorite, he thinks with a smile. As he takes the lights out of their boxes and strings them together as fast as he can he thinks about the engagement ring waiting in a hidden part of his closet back home.

He finds an outlet with a noise of victory and plugs in the lights. Looking around the room he tries to find places to hang them in the sparsely decorated hotel room. There’s a large painting that hangs and he stands on a chair to drape the lights over one corner.

As he strings them up he holds one of the small bulbs up close. It looks incredibly similar to the delicate gold diamonds of the ring he’s bought, interspersed between small traditional diamonds.

With an involuntary swallow he resumes his task, his mind distracted by the thought of proposing. He’d hoped to do it tomorrow morning, when the two of you were snuggled on the couch after having unwrapped presents. He sends a prayer to the universe that you’ll be home in time to be there for at least a sliver of Christmas Day; your favorite day of the year and the day he hopes you’ll agree to be his forever.

‘What is all this?’ you gasp from behind him.

‘Oh sh-’ he says, turning around and almost falling off the chair. He catches himself on the wall with a laugh and gives you a bashful grin as he observes the room with you.

‘I just, wanted to make it like home for you,’ he starts, nervously scratching the back of his neck. He sticks the end of the lights behind the other end of the painting and climbs down.

You stand there in your towel, your hair wet and your eyes bright and he melts. ‘Min, you did all this for me?’ you ask softly, awe and surprise in your eyes as you walk over to him.

He shrugs out of his jacket and throws it on the back of the chair. A beat later and you’re in his arms again; even the short separation was too long for him.

‘Of course I did. If my baby couldn’t be home for Christmas I wanted to bring Christmas to her,’ he beams, proud of the effect his transformation has had on the space.

‘It’s perfect,’ you say, the words muffled by your face buried in the warmth of his sweater.

A moment later you lift your head and rest your forehead to his. ‘Besides, wherever I am with you, I am home,’ you reply with a grin and lean forward to press your lips to his.

#kfluffnet #prettyboysnetwork #kwriterskollection #kpopwritingnet #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #exo x reader #xiumin fluff #xiumin fanfic #xiumin imagine #exo fanfic #exo fluff

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avidreaderblog · 6 years

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Hello everyone! When I first started blogging, I had no idea what I was doing and it stayed that way for two years until I joined WordPress and participated in challenges and read about what to do. Now, I’m still learning, but I’ve got a better handle of the ins and outs of what to put on a blog/website and what NOT to do, but it’s taken me 6 yrs to get here.

Today, though, I figured I’d list what bloggers should and shouldn’t have on their website, all of which would help them reach more readers and get more views so that no one else has to take at least 2 yrs to figure out what they’re doing. Let’s go…

What To Include (general page ideas):

Landing page aka Home (optional)

as an alternative for readers to land first on your blog, you can have a static home page which gives a little intro to who you are and what you blog about. It can either serve as a short version of your About Me/Blog sections or it can actually be the sections.

the only thing you should watch out for is that if your end goal is for people to read your blog posts, you would be increasing the number of steps it would take for readers to get there, which decreases the likelihood they will actually press on a post and read it.

About Me

this is the page where you introduce yourself. Some things to include are:

your name (either real one or that of your online persona)

what reading means to you

how you got into blogging or why you’re blogging aka what’s the goal that you want to accomplish with the blog. It doesn’t have to be big or overly ambitious. It can just be to “help readers find good books” or something.

your social media

About The Blog (optional)

you can combine this with your About Me page if you want (I did!) and summarize what types of books, genres or topics you like reading about, what kinds of blog posts you do (reviews, discussions, blog tours etc) and how often you post. It’s best to only disclose how often you post if you are good about being consistent, otherwise, readers might get confused/lose faith in you if you say you post twice a week when you might only post twice a month.

Blog

this is basically the page where all your blog posts show up – regardless of what type of post they are. You can create extra pages that specifically show one type of post (see next section) but that is optional and, regardless, you should have all your blog posts together on one page

Blog Category Pages (optional)

Along with their general blog page, some bloggers will also create pages from various blog categories. Some of the most common pages I’ve seen are:

Discussions

Reviews (A – Z)

Reviews (by author)

Memes page(s) like Top Ten Tuesdays or Waiting on Wednesdays

Interviews

Blog Tours

again, these are all optional and, in my opinion, neither especially help or hurt your blog. TBH, you can just create a “categories” widget (which you can see on my sidebar) so that people can easily see only one type of post.

(Review) Policy

this is where you talk about what you are willing to accept from authors, publishers and companies and what you are willing to do. some examples of things to mention or keep in mind are:

what genres of books will you read? what will you definitely not read?

are you willing to read e-books (and more specifically, pdfs, e-pub, kindle)? or do you only read paperbacks/hardcovers?

will you do only book reviews or might you also be willing to collaborate on doing interviews, subscription box reviews, giveaways, blog tours etc?

what’s the best way to contact you? you can link them to your contact form and/or give them your email address

Contact Me

the best way(s) to contact you whether it’s a contact form on the website, social media, letters, email etc.

a brief summary of what people can and can’t contact you about

a link to your policies page for the specifics of what to contact you about

[Related – DISCUSSION: 15+ Author Website Tips]

What To Include (specific content):

Search bar – pleaseeeeee put a search bar somewhere on your website whether it’s up top or on the sidebar where it is immediately visible (aka don’t put your search bar in just the footer). Search bars are you and your reader’s best friends because it is a lot easier to find a post using the search bar than having to comb through post archives.

Blog follow buttons – whether you want them to follow on WordPress, via email, BlogLovin’ or an RSS feed, make sure you have a follow button on your sidebar and your footer so your readers know when you have new posts out and can keep coming back!

Social media buttons – if you have any social media relating to your blog (and you really should have at least one!), then you need to include a way for your readers to jump to said social media and follow you. I personally recommend you put them either up top or on your sidebar, as well as down in your footer.

A blog graphic in every post – images catch people’s eyes much faster than texts do (an image is worth a thousand words) so, by adding an image to your post, you can catch the attention of the reader and draw them into reading the post. Of course, the image should be appropriate to the topic and, typically, follows a consistent style. For me, when I need to create my own image (aka I’m not using a book cover or blog tour banner), I tend to do the same kind of thing. As you can see from the gallery below, I have the same background in each of my images, the font is the same, and the size of the words are typically the same (tho there are some outliers depending on the post). This consistency allows readers to become familiar with you and your blog in another way so that, if they saw one of your images on social media, they would immediately know “hey this is from X’s blog!” even if they’ve never read the post or seen the pic before.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

What NOT to do:

use weird coloured backgrounds or writing (like yellow, purple or green) PLEASE – My eyes are already bad we don’t need to make them even worse lol

show your entire blog post on the blog home page – in doing so, people are not going to press on the specific post and read it there. This means that all your blog views will show up as “home” and you won’t see any stats about the specific articles people are reading which you need to help you understand what types of posts are doing well and which aren’t. To fix this, just go to your blog settings and make sure the “Limit feed to excerpt only” option is on. For bloggers on WordPress, this can be found by going to settings –> writing –> feed settings.

not personalizing your website – if you have any free blogging account (aka free WordPress, free Blogger, free Tumblr etc) you are most definitely going to pick a theme that hundreds of others have used before. The key to making YOU and your blog stand out is in how you design it. This happens by changing around

the colour palette you use (mine is primarily white, turquoise, black)

your blog header and other blog images

the formatting

fonts

Tips:

Put the link to your website in all your social media bios

Have at least one social media that you can focus and build an audience on, as well as share your posts to. For me, my main social media is Twitter (though I am on others) and it’s where I get the majority of my blog views. Every time a new blog post is published, it gets automatically shared to Twitter and I spend time marketing posts on Twitter to drive up views on the blog.

Make sure your posts will automatically be shared on your social media(s) when they are published. On WordPress, you can do this via Publicize.

Don’t include more than 3 category-like blog pages otherwise, you’re just crowding the top of your blog for no reason

Have a master spreadsheet or list of any and all blog post ideas you think of. This will better help you when you’re in the writing mood but can’t think of any ideas.

Also, when you’re in the writing mood, write as many blog posts as you can – whether partly or fully – ahead of time so that it’s easier when you have less motivation or need to post something ASAP (seriously scheduling posts out are the absolute best!)

If you aren’t art or design-inclined, make sure you hire someone to make your blog header and other blog graphics and help you design your website. I’m a graphic designer (and former website designer) and I love helping people out with their blog headers, business cards, post graphics etc. If you want to know more about how I can help, tweet me, contact me or email me and I’ll get back to you within 24 hrs (twitter is definitely faster tho)!

Other Blogging Guides

All About ARCs (Advance Reader’s Copies)

Book Publicity Contacts Directory

Writing Tools, Resources & Tips

And that’s really all I can think of in terms of tips and tricks. What do you guys think? Do you have any cool blogging tips or tricks? Let me know in the comments below! If you have any questions, concerns, or ideas, comment them below! Lastly, don’t forget, I’m always happy to either casually or completely audit your website and see what you’re doing well & what you can improve on, as well as make any graphic designs, blog headers, business cards etc for you! Just tweet me, contact me or email me and I’ll get back to you within 24 hrs! Thanks, have a great day/night and tata for now!

Angel

Red Bubble ❙ Society 6

DISCUSSION: 15+ Blogger Website Tips & Tricks Hello everyone! When I first started blogging, I had no idea what I was doing and it stayed that way for two years until I joined Wordpress and participated in challenges and read about what to do.

#audit #blog #bloggers #book #books #do #don&039;t #feedback #help #helpful #how to #marketing #marketing plan #plan #service #services #tip #tips #trick #tricks #website #websites

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notesfromnayeshi · 6 years

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Group Reread: Notes on Chapter 11-15

Chapter 11

Pivan describes the night as "godless", which makes me think of the phrase "palace of the day, in the kingdom of the night". I wonder if they see the "kingdom of the night" as Nayeshi, because it's a place where they don't believe in Parfir. But it's also the "palace of the day" because it is where the Rifter is born? I don't know, just something about the phrase "godless night" brought that to mind.

I know some people already mentioned this on Discord, but it stood out to me too: John might have actually caused Saimura to trip on a tree root. I think it's super plausible! He was wishing so hard that Saimura would be safe.

"As John pushed himself to his feet, the young man looked up at him and went pale. His brown eyes were wide with fear. The moment he caught sight of the rifle in John's hand he drew out a long hunting knife. He didn't hold it towards John. Instead, he turned the blade to his own throat.

"Don't," John whispered to him.

"I won't burn on your Holy Road," Saimura said."

What. A. Badass. I love Saimura!

Chapter 12

I like that they have indoor plumbing in Basawar. It's a weird worldbuilding detail that you don't usually expect in a fantasy setting. A lot of Basawar is like that, which I love. It's not your typical fantasy world!

Lady Bousim says of Bill and Laurie "perhaps it was fated that they should be wed." She's sort of right! They were never technically married, and who knows what would have happened between them if they had stayed in Nayeshi. They pretended to be married as a survival tactic in Basawar, which ended up with them essentially *being* married for all intents and purposes. But I have to wonder, is that really what they both wanted? Given more freedom, would they have stayed with each other?

"Her expression turned sad and she clenched her hands into fists around the chains."

We talked a little in the Discord channel about what marriage chains looked like, and I am amending my opinion to say that I think @sammybunny711 is completely right and that the chains hang down between the fingers. At first I didn't think it made sense, because it would be so impractical and annoying to have chains always hanging down and getting in the way of anything you tried to grab, but now that I think about it that actually is very believable. The marriage chains are definitely presented as a burden imposed on women, so I can definitely see them being inconvenient and impractical (just like many other beauty and fashion trends that women have endured in the real world).

"Now, you see a fair-haired child and no one thinks anything of it, not even the child's own mother. She may have Eastern blood but it doesn't matter because her soul has become Basawar. It's pitiful."

She's definitely talking about herself here. We haven't actually met Fikiri at this point, so we don't know that he is fair-haired, but it makes sense. I feel bad for Lady Bousim. She's very passionate about her heritage, and that's relatable. It's sad that she doesn't get a better fate.

John ponders how Ravishan has an "uncanny knack" for finding him. Even though, for Ravishan's timeline, the bond hasn't actually been forged yet, I think it still exists between them. For John, the bond was forged when he was a child. There is definitely some self-fulfilling prophecy going on with the Issusha'im and the way they direct the outcomes of the future.

Chapter 13

Pivan tells John that it's his duty to make sure Lady Bousim never leaves Amura'taye. Maybe that's why he's so insistent that Fikiri makes it up the Thousand Steps. It sounds like if Fikiri succeeds, Lady Bousim must stay there, but if he fails or if he dies then she can go back to Nurjima.

Marriage customs are definitely strange in Basawar. Pivan can't believe that Laurie agreed to marry Bill, saying "Perhaps she didn't give him much of a fight". Reminds me of Wildling marriages in A Song of Ice and Fire where the wildling men "steal" their brides and the women will fight their suitors if they're not interested in marriage.

"But you don't have a woman waiting back in your village?" Pivan's voice broke into his thoughts. "No," John said quickly. "I don't have anyone." More truth. This conversation was turning out to be among the most depressing of his life."

Awww, John. Just wait! Only 3 or 4 years before you finally get to be with Ravishan..

"John found it a little ironic that Pivan would want to teach him one set of prayers so that Lady Bousim could have no objection to him, while the lady sent her servant to teach him another set of prayers to win Pivan's approval"

The levels of irony are deep here. John is praying at his own temple. And all the acolytes who visit the temple are actually praying in the literal presence of Parfir.

"The stone was dark and rose up into a man's body, arms outstretched. In places his muscles seemed to melt into carvings of branches, flowers and leaves."

According to Payshmura philosophy, Parfir and the Rifter are two incarnations of the same divinity. It seems like they might not have it entirely right though. John, who is definitely the Rifter (we see the destructive power for sure) also embodies the regenerative, benevolent nature of Parfir. It makes it extra sad that the Payshmura essentially broke the good natures of every past incarnation of their god so that only the destructive Rifter was ever seen. They never realized the same powers could be used to do good for the world.

"When he closed his eyes, he thought he could still hear Pivan whispering prayers."

Maybe he can! Maybe Parfir really does hear prayers.

Chapter 14

"Sky and stones didn't speak Basawar or any other language"

I love how righteously indignant John is on behalf of the stones.

"Candidate Fikiri, you have come a long way through hardship and danger but Parfir has reached out his hand and given you his protection."

Literally! There is so much irony in these chapters.

"Ravishan reached past John to pull a spray of pine needles from the branch above them."

This is a description from when John finds Ravishan in the courtyard. I love how this scene ends up mirrored later on in Nurjima when they are checking into the hotel and Ravishan is shredding a flower between his fingers. And I also think this description calls back to the diner scene in Chapter 4 when Kyle notices Laurie reach past Bill to get the menus and he think about how the act of reaching past someone so casually displays great intimacy.

Chapter 15

Back with my sweet angel, Kyle!

Some of the politics in this chapter are interesting. If you haven't seen the Lisam family tree from the paperback extras, you may not know that Ravishan, Rousma, and Dayyid are (or were) down the line of Lisam succession, Dayyid being a younger son and Ravishan and Rousma being the children of a younger son or daughter.

"So, I kill him and then I'm on my own?" Kahlil asked. The prospect seemed oddly familiar."

I think this is what he would have been expected to do in Nayeshi. Kill John, and then stay there and do whatever you want? I guess. It seems strange that they Payshmura wouldn't want him to come back after he killed the Rifter.

Alidas: quiet, mysterious, good leader, responsible, hard to get a word out of… I'd say Kahlil definitely has a type. We all agree that he's crushing hard on Alidas, right?

#the rifter #ginn hale #partyinbasawar #third times the charm?#i am so sorry if you're getting notifications!#nfn:rereadnotes

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wellhalesbells · 7 years

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If you have the time and if you don't mind, what are some books you really recommend? Doesn't have to be all time faves, but anything that pops into mind that you want more ppl to read and love, Extra points if lgbt+ , i got the whole summer with little to do and i wanna spend it reading some good quality writing and honestly so far your recs have introduced me to so many faves its unbelievable

[blushes profusely] oh wow, thank you!!! i’m so glad you’ve trusted me enough to check out some of the stuff i reblog; that is like the ultimate compliment, i can’t even??? i don’t mind at all(!), fair warning though: i only started recording what i read partway through last year and my mind is like a sieve so i’ll do my absolute best to remember what’s sang to me in the recent past. warning number two: i’m in an open relationship with absolutely every genre out there so i’ll try to note which belongs where so you can avoid those that hold no interest for you.

LGBT+

i’ll give you the sun. i loved this book, the writing is fucking transformative and all the characters are so damn likable, while still being realistically flawed human beings.

the raven cycle (tetralogy). definitely my favorite series since harry potter. the writing, the world-building, the characters, it’s all on top-form. i wrote a little, mini non-spoilery review of it: here, back when i was better (worse?) wordly-wise and my feels were brand new.

more happy than not. i’m still not sure how i feel about this book. it was hard, but it felt very true to the characters and the lingo and style matched the ages of the players and i have a lot of respect for that.

the watchmaker of filigree street. woooow i loved this book. i admit ‘historical fiction’ kind of makes me cringe. it never precludes me from reading a book but it does knock it down the list by a book or five because they’re often very dense and very clunky and end up taking me ages to get through. but this one was gorgeous. i loved the plot, the attention lovingly placed on every character and the historical elements. the surprise gay in an already brilliant book felt like winning the lottery honestly.

captive prince (trilogy). okay, truthfully, i’m only putting this on here because the second book is such a high point for me. it was never bad at any point but it had unfortunately been hyped far too much for it to live up to my, admittedly, very high expectations. hopefully it’ll fare better with you?

everything i never told you. i go back and forth on this one. i like the writing a lot, i like the LGBT aspect a lot, and i like the mystery aspect a lot but there are definitely characters i would cut out entirely for sheer predictability if i could and that killed a lot of my enjoyment at the time (but i think much more highly of it in retrospect?). so, take that as you like.

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe. if there’s a book that handles its characters with more care or respect or consideration then i haven’t run into it. i love the way this is written and the people it’s populated with.

flying lessons & other stories. a bunch of uber talented authors writing a bunch of uber diverse and LGBT-focused stories and, yes, that is exactly as awesome as it sounds.

the song of achilles. it is utterly heart-breaking but so rich, honestly.

FANTASY

the diviners. (also has a minor LGBT character, who may play a bigger role in the sequel?) fair warning, i have not read the sequel, lair of dreams, because it is somehow still not out in paperback (yes, i read physical books, yes, i pretty exclusively read paperbacks so i can lug them everywhere with me, YES, I PRE-ORDERED THIS ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO AND IT’S STILL NOT OUT, NOT THAT I’M BITTER ABOUT THAT OR ANYTHING) so i can’t speak to that one finishing on a high note as i don’t know. but this was the first historical novel i managed to like in a long while. it does such a good job of fusing in 1920s lingo and dress and aspects that i couldn’t help but love it. add in the fantasy elements and i can admit i’m the perfect sucker for it.

the scorpio races. i’m not sure why but it took me a long-ass time to get into this book, i wasn’t flipping pages with gusto until well towards the end but - especially as i was reading so much YA at the time - i really appreciated coming across a romance that lets both people come into it as themselves and stay themselves, neither puck nor sean were ever smashed or crumpled or shaved away to fit into their relationship, which was so refreshing. plus the water horses were fucking cool.

the night circus. the writing, the atmosphere, the circus. just… it is all very whoa.

all the birds in the sky. i loved this writing style and these characters and the magical elements.

CONTEMPORARY

i’ll meet you there. there was something about this and i just… ended up liking it way more than i expected to. i might’ve just read it at exactly the right time, i’m not sure, but i really enjoyed it.

the invoice. this is honestly just hella cute and so freaking surreal. swedes, man.

NON-FICTION

why not me? i like mindy kaling a lot. i make no apologies for that. plus you can read both her books in about five seconds, haha.

SCIENCE FICTION

station eleven. i loved this book. the way the narrative is woven is so refreshing and i wish the comic book miranda was writing in this book was a real thing more than anything else in the woooorld.

illuminae. hot DAMN this book was cool. the plot was rock solid, the characters were hilarious and badass and the graphics made out of text and spiraling words and just the way this thing is put together? shit, it’s worth your money and then some.

a robot in the garden. okay this is just cute as hell. i can’t even with tang, he’s the most adorable robot to ever adorable.

annihilation (southern reach trilogy). (LGBT minor characters.) okay, honestly? i don’t know. this was freaking zany but i was invested as fuck in all the kookiness for reasons i can’t articulately elaborate on.

the martian. hilarious, engaging, SPACE. what more do you want?

HORROR

things we lost in the fire. this is more atmospheric than anything but, damn, could this get me wishing i wasn’t reading this in the dark or looking over my shoulder to make absolutely sure no one was standing behind me. it’s a book of short stories (by the way, i love books of short stories and i definitely realize that is not true for everyone) and each one is so well-delivered and stylized. i really enjoyed reading this.

let the right one in. okay, this is legit horror so definitely stay away if you’re easily squicked out but it is harrrrrd to find good horror (at least in my opinion) and this definitely, definitely qualifies.

horrorstör. i honestly had such low expectations for this, a horror story set in a wannabe-ikea, but it ended up being so ridiculous and strange and funny that i was won over by the finish.

the girl with all the gifts. holy unique and well-executed zombie idea, batman!

SHORT STORIES

the bigness of the world. there were definitely ones here that hit better than others but the ones i liked, i really liked!

GRAPHIC NOVELS (i read a lot of these so, um, prepare yourself)

saga. (LGBT minor characters as well.) this is world-building to a degree that i’m convinced did not exist before. just, i can’t say enough amazing things about this series and the staggering amount of imagination that regularly goes into it.

ms. marvel. heart-warming as fuck. it’s definitely really easy to lose faith in the world these days, luckily kamala is there to remind you that people are primarily and genuinely good.

black science. this is another one that took just an insane amount of imagination to cook up. i got off to kind of a rocky start with this one but the gray-ness of all the characters really speaks to me, and that doesn’t really blossom until later in the series.

spider-man/deadpool. this was very satisfying for my super duper spideypool-shipping mind. joe and ed did us so good, and joe basically said in his sign-off: i made it absolutely as gay as they would let me, haha.

the wicked + the divine. (LGBT minor characters that you’re going to get way too attached to, and retroactively. it’s awful [sobs].) the concept for this, gods reincarnating into teenagers before they burn up their hosts after a predetermined set of time, is so fucking cool. the humor and the characters and the plot is all just aces.

iceman (LGBT MAIN CHARACTER). okay, so this just started. like issue #2 was only released days ago but 1) i am liking it so far and 2) marvel did it so dirty and barely advertised bobby - an openly homosexual superhero - was getting his own series, like, i found out about it the day before it went on sale and i keep my ear fairly close to the ground (not as close as some BY A LOT, but closer than the lay person i’d say) so if you can support it, please do! pre-orders mean a lot in terms of numbers. :))))

descender. admittedly, this starts out rooough. because the main character, TIM-21 (and his little dog too), are annoying as hell. he’s an android so there’s no dimension to him so he’s booooring as all get out but i am so glad i stuck with it through to the next trade because, probably picking up on the unsustainability of him as a main character, he gets shuffled off and the side characters get the stage and they rock so hard.

paper girls. (LGBT main characters.) i’m kind of just convinced that brian k. vaughan can do no wrong at this point. his plots are so tight and mind-blowing and badass.

monstress. here’s a little tid-bit about me: female comic book writers are 100% more likely to get my money and my time because they are so damn rare and this series is unique, badass, and eye-opening.

black monday murders. i’m a little premature with this since there’s only one volume and i usually try to wait until there are at least two but i check up on a volume two a lot so that definitely means something intrigued me!

nailbiter. okay, i haven’t read the final volume yet ‘cause i’m reluctant to let it go but, so far, a series about multiple serial killers all being from the same town has me VERY HOOKED.

i wish i could remember more but this is honestly way better than i expected to do, haha. they’re definitely not all my all-time faves but they’re ones that have stuck with me for one reason or another and that i didn’t feel i wasted my time on, so that’s something, right? i hope this helps get you started and that you don’t think too awfully of me when you inevitably run across ones that aren’t your cup of tea!

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bubblegumstardust · 6 years

Note

Here are you book asks :D prepare for a lot! 3-8, 15-18, 21, 23-25, 30-35, 39, 40, 43, 46, 48-50 :)

time for round 2 then :D

3.Do you read books just because you saw them on tumblr??

i have read some books because of tumblr but i always check out what it is to see if i might actually be interested rather than just reading it purely because tumblr said to

4.Is there a book that you think needs a bigger fandom??

yes, Illuminae like you said when i asked you, also Zodiac, Ready Player One, The Sin Eater’s Daughter, The Diabolic, and so many other books i read because i swear like no one has read half of them

5.Do you have a snack while reading or do you close the book first??

if i can eat it one handed i will eat while reading

6.Can you ever stop in the middle of a page or do you have to finish the page or chapter first??

as long as the paragraph is finished i can stop

7.Do you borrow books from people??

nope, most of my friends don’t read all that much and they never have books i don’t

8.Do you lend your books out to friends??

if i really really want them to read it then yes

15.Do you set yourself a TBR list at the start of the month??

i tried a couple of times but i didn’t stick to it so i gave up

16.What book has been on you TBR pile the longest??

oh god idk, i mean i’ve been meaning to read Percy Jackson for years but i only just got the books so maybe that?

17.Is there a book on your TBR pile that you don’t think you will read?

absolutely NOT going to read the Uglies series or Great Expectations

18.Do you know anyone else that likes books??

yeah my mum and grandparents read a fair bit, most of my friends like books too

21.Do you write??

i do but i suck at it tbh and never let anyone i know see any of it

23.How did you get into reading??

my mum always read to me and my sister every night before bed when we were little, like cool stuff like Harry Potter, and then i just started reading. i also loved the Felicity wishes and rainbow fairy books when i was little and there was loads of them so i started reading a lot

24.Have you read a book that was really hyped up but you didn’t enjoy??

HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD! why did so many people love it so much like i don’t get it

25.Do you prefer physical books, Ebooks or audio books?? (/there is not wrong answer)

i love physical books, ebooks i pretty much only read when i’m on holiday, and i’ve never listened to an audio book but i think they’re a great thing

30.Can you leave a series unfinished or do you have to own all the books and try them all??

if i really really can’t stand the book or the book was really forgettable i can leave a series unfinished but usually if i have even the slightest bit of interest in what happens i’ll make myself finish a series. also if my reading tastes change while a long series is still being written i might not finish it and not feel bad about it (i.e. with the house of night series (which i read when i was way to young for it actually) and the morganville vampires)

31.How do you think you would be described if you were in a book??

i have a feeling i’d be compared to an angry hobbit with an alarming obsession with everything pretty and pastel coloured. also they’d definitely call me an asshole.

32.“They edged towards the shaking box that had just been delivered.” Should they open it?? You decide what happens next.

the box continues to shake as they approach and a foot away they all stop and look at it with concern. no one speaks as they all wait for something to happen until one member of the group decides “fuck this, i ain’t getting involved in some demon shit today” and turns to walk away. the others follow and they leave the box to do its thing while they go and get ice cream. later one kids mum comes home and finds the still shaking box. she turns white and quickly grabs the box up to her room before she opens it and turns of the...ah...toy

that wasn’t where i planned to take that but i’m tired okay, leave me alone

33.How do you organise your shelves??

well right now i kinda have books together with others that are in some way similar and also look good together aesthetically, it’s rather odd and complicated at the moment, more often than not though it’s done by colour and occasionally genre

34.What do you do to mark your pages??

book mark normally

35.Do you have a lot of bookmarks?? or just a few??

only a few

39.What book that has made you cry??

do you want the full list? because it’s extensive. i cry a lot. okay this is in order of what i see on my bookshelf: Half Wild, Half Lost, Siege and Storm, Ruin and Rising, Illuminae, Gemina, Obsidio, Zodiac, Wandering Star, Black Moon, Thirteen Rising, acotar, acomaf, acowar, acofas, Tower of Dawn, Heir of Fire, Queen of Shadows, Empire of Storms, Crooked Kingdom, The Hobbit, The Sleeping Prince, The Scarecrow Queen, The Raven Cycle, The Fault In Our Stars, Simon Vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda, Clockwork Princess, The Diabolic, The Empress, The Death Cure, The Fever Code also a few more i think but i either can’t see them on my shelves or they’re ebooks or something and i can’t remember

40.How do you feel when you find a typo/spelling error in a book??

i won’t lie, i hardly ever actually notice them if i’m really into the book but if i’m not absorbed enough and see when then it kinda throws me for a minute

43.Free rant, go ahead, we all know you want to.

okay so why the heck are so many books doing this thing where they come out in hardback and then i have to wait months or sometimes like a whole year or something for a paperback to be released!? like can you not? so i know you do it to get more money because everyones like “i want this book and i want it now” so they spend the extra money on the hardback but like i can’t afford to do that, maybe occasionally but not all the time. like for the amount i read and number of books i end up buying i can hardly afford to pay full price for the paperbacks and then i can’t get books i really badly want for absolutely ages because i just can’t justify spending the extra money and FOR FUCKS SAKE CAN YOU JUST RELEASE THE PAPERBACK SOONER!? LIKE FINE YOU CAN WAIT A MONTH OR SOMETHING BUT CAN YOU NOT MAKE IT ANY LONGER BECAUSE I DIE OVER HERE.

also i’m having multiple rants here okay?

CAN YOU FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST NOT CHANGE COVERS WHEN A SERIES IS ONLY PART WAY DONE OR IF YOU REALLY HAVE TO RELEASE THE NEWER BOOKS WITH THE OLD COVERS TOO!? I have straight up abandoned a series in part because i can’t get matching covers and you bet i’m pissed about it.

46.Do you have a bookish tattoo?? Do you want one??

i don’t yet but from the 25th July i will!!! :D48.Do you write, highlight, underline etc in your books

nope, can’t bring myself to, unless it was a shitty old copy of some book i hated that i had to study at school but even then i usually took notes on separate bits of paper

49.Worse book you’ve ever read??

oooooooh. um so i really, really hated the great gatsby, didn’t like of mice and men either, Abandon by Meg Cabot I hated but that’s all i can think of

50.Do you read classics?? If so, what’s your favourite??

i’ve read a few and literally bought a ton of them a few years back because i wanted to get into classics more but i’ve only read a few of them. I adore Pride and Prejudice so that’s probably my favourite

god this is long, enjoy!

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thetourguidebarbie · 7 years

Text

In a Morning Kiss

This is a present for @captndevil It’s a sequel to one of my recent drabbles Before He Cheats. It has smut. I hope you enjoy it (and feel better)! The prompt she chose was morning cuddling/Klaus trying to distract Caroline from her work. Sorry if formatting ends up being wonky. Posting from my phone. Title from “That’s Where it Is” by Carrie Underwood bc I figured I should stick with the theme.

She loved waking up in Klaus’s arms.

It had been two mostly-blissful years and she still had mornings where she woke convinced that it had all been a dream. Then she would stir against him and feel his heartbeat against her cheek, the comfort of his arms around her, his scent cloaking her, and remember that she was safe.

She liked to linger there, breathing him in and savoring his lean chest against her back and the tickle of his breath against her skin, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. She wouldn’t call herself a morning person by nature, but she wasn’t a grumpy asshole, could possibly be defined as “cheerful” once she got some coffee in her, something that Klaus definitely could not claim.

He preferred waking slowly and on his own time as opposed to quickly and painfully by way of alarm. Apparently he hadn’t had to consistently wake up before eight for years until she came along. His auctions usually ran from evenings until the early hours of the morning, and since he set his own hours, his normal workdays didn’t start until the afternoon. She unfortunately did not share that luxury. She had to be up practically as the sun came up to proofread that morning’s teleprompter script. Klaus endured it like a champ with minimal grumbling as long as she didn’t hit the snooze button more than once, but weekends were supposed to be alarm-free.

Sadly, not today.

One of the other editors had just gone on maternity leave and since she was the most junior and had paper editing experience, she ended up covering most of her extra work. It was even worse because Anna was the editor for the sports section, something that she was completely unfamiliar with other than football– and that was because she’d done cheerleading, so she’d absorbed the information unwillingly through osmosis. She couldn’t half-ass things if she tried–and she’d tried–so she’d spent an appalling amount of time reading official rule manuals so that she wouldn’t miss the easy stuff. In addition to all of her usual work that she could easily do in the evenings, which mostly consisted of looking over quick fluff pieces, she was also supposed to finish looking over the longer sports articles for the weekend, and she was not excited.

Still, it was hard to muffle her giggles as Klaus groaned softly, burrowing his face into her shoulder to try to drown out her phone blaring an upbeat pop song as her alarm. Deciding to be nice, she skipped her usual one snooze button use, reaching to turn it off and twisting in Klaus’s arms to face him. “Good morning,” she whispered, nosing his jaw and planting a soft kiss on the hollow below his earlobe.

“What time is it?” he asked, cracking an eye open to look at her, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Too early,” she said, ignoring his grunt of annoyance when she disentangled herself from his arms. “But I have to get up, remember?”

He muttered something that sounded vaguely like, ‘No you don’t’ but she ignored him, pushing herself out of bed and stripping out of her clothes, grabbing clean pajamas from the dresser before she walked to the master bathroom to shower.

Just because she had to work to do didn’t mean she had to wear actual clothes.

He was draining coffee at the kitchen counter when she emerged, still pulling her wet hair into a messy bun as she took a moment to let her gaze roam appreciatively down his back. His sweatpants were sitting low on his hips, feet bare against the hardwood floor, and she moved behind him, resting her palm lightly on his back as she moved past him to get a mug from the cabinet.

“You didn’t have to get up with me,” she pointed out, putting the mug on the counter and wiping her eyes with her palms. “You still have at least a few hours to sleep before you have to get ready for the auction.”

“I did not,” he agreed, eyeing her over his coffee cup with barely concealed disgust as she emptied a few heaping teaspoons of hazelnut coffeemate into the mug before filling it. “I decided that it would be prudent to get some painting done myself so that I might be able to entice you into taking a break before we leave. A long break.”

She was seriously tempted to agree to a preemptive break (a good start to the day for motivation, right?), but knew that if she gave in now she’d be not working for the rest of the day, and enduring Kol’s endless less-than-subtle innuendos about why she didn’t finish her work wouldn’t be worth it. “I wish,” she grumbled, bringing the mug to her lips to drink.

He was watching her as she sipped, a small smile on his face, and his hand ghosted down her spine to rest just above the curve of her ass, thumb skating across her ribs. “Why not start the morning with something to wake you up a bit? I’ve been told that exercise in the morning can be beneficial.”

She gave him a look that was supposed to be a scowl but probably edged closer to a pout, the knowledge that she was denying herself a great Saturday morning in favor of reading about grown men chasing small objects less than palatable. He seemed to sense that his agenda was making progress, his fingertip darting just under the waistband of her soft cotton shorts to slide along her skin before pausing to stroke her hip. She felt goosebumps pebble on her skin, the pleasurable shiver up her spine and the tightening at the apex of her thighs tempting her almost beyond resistance.

“I can’t,” she said regretfully, stepping away so that his touches wouldn’t reel her in her any more than they already had and trying not to look at his frustratingly effective puppy eyes. “Seriously, I wish I could.”

Unfortunately for both of them, though she hated passing up an excuse for him to touch her, she hated the idea of her coworkers still viewing her as Kol’s sister-in-law rather than as an actual peer even more. She knew that slacking on her assigned work would only reinforce that image, and she’d worked really hard to build up the trust she already had so far.

Still, as she watched Klaus stretch, his muscles flexing in a way that made her want to refamiliarize herself with the feel of them under her fingertips, she was very much regretting her decision to fulfill her adult responsibilities.

She could tell he knew what was on her mind, since there was excessive flexing and a heated drag of his eyes up and down her form, lingering on the hem of her tank top, which revealed glimpses of creamy skin just above the polka-dotted waistband of her shorts. She resisted with a show of practically superhuman-level self-control, at least in her opinion, and cleared her throat before draining the rest of her coffee. She avoided his eyes as best she could while she washed out the mug in the sink, determined to not get sucked in. He knew all the right buttons to push to coax her into spending just another hour in bed with him, which could easily turn into two or five, and though her skin prickled in anticipation when she felt his eyes on her, she ruthlessly pushed her desire away.

“Later, then,” he said finally, his voice low and full of the kind of unspoken promises that made her toes curl, and her breath caught when she looked up, her lips parting at how he watched her. Klaus could still take her breath away with a single glance even after two years together, and it was incredibly irritating.

“Sure,” she managed, trying not to sound too eager. He was smug and smirky enough already.

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart,” he said, reaching to take the mug from her hand, the brush of their fingers making her skin heat. “Let me know when you’re hungry and we can have lunch, all right?”

She nodded and pecked him on the cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a few seconds before she walked to her office, determined to avoid him and his knowing smiles and lickable abs.

Ugh.

She’d finally managed to get some headway around lunchtime, sighing when her stomach grumbled and managing to motivate herself to finish marking up Andi’s fluff piece about a dog that had rescued a kitten from a well on the edge of town (they were not above heartwarming clickbait) and decided she’d finish editing the teleprompter feed for the Monday morning celebrity gossip show after she had something to eat.

She’d expected to hear muffled rock music bleeding through the heavy wooden door of Klaus’s studio, but it was oddly silent. She debated whether she wanted to poke the dragon before deciding that if Klaus waited to eat he probably wouldn’t be hungry at the auction banquet later, and he had told her to find him. “Klaus?” she called, knocking before opening the door to peek inside, her cheeks flushing when she saw him.

They’d long gotten past her being embarrassed to talk to him about sex or what she wanted, Stefan’s lack of talent and excessive pearl clutching at her early tentative requests now a long-forgotten memory, but it was still a little weird to see him on the plush couch she usually occupied while he was painting absorbed in one of her repeatedly read paperbacks with a cover that showed a fanged and muscled hero clutching a clearly swooning heroine to his chest. He was still shirtless, his necklaces resting against his chest just begging to be tugged, but he’d put on jeans for reasons that she could not fathom. Not that she was complaining; she definitely did not mind the way they framed him. His sweatpants never quite did him justice.

He appeared to be halfway through and clearly hadn’t heard her come in. She leaned against the doorway fighting down her giggles as she watched him turn the page a few times before walking over and plucking the book out of his hands, grabbing a nearby receipt and sticking it in the book to save the page. He looked up as she bent over him, one of her hands splayed on his ribs, the other resting on the armrest by his head. “Good book?”

“Quite enlightening, actually. Inspirational, even.”

His smirk was wicked and almost baiting, and she bent to press her lips to his briefly.

“You hungry?” she asked.

He gave her a wicked grin and she huffed.

“For food,” she added, anticipatorily talking over him when she saw the flash of mischief in his eyes and the obvious innuendo about to spill out of his mouth. “Seriously.”

“You don’t want to explore the mature themes discussed in… ah…” he grabbed the book again, glancing at the cover, “…Bound by Passion?”

“Tempting, but bondage seems a little time consuming,” she said dryly, and he gave her a dimpled grin, sitting up.

“Fair,” he said. “Shall I order in, then? I can bring it to you. Perhaps we’ll even have a little time before we have to change.”

“Before you have to change. I have to do my hair and makeup too,” she reminded, the prospect of going back to work suddenly making the idea of a break before they went to his auction much more appealing. It seemed like Klaus had been able to read her well since the moment they’d met, and now was no different, the glint in his eye indicating that he could sense that she was starting to lean towards some stress relief. She couldn’t give in, though. “But sure. I’d take pizza.”

“Mushrooms and peppers?”

“Yes, please,” she said, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“And I you, sweetheart,” he murmured, already reaching for his phone, which was on the side table.

She returned to her office and put her headphones back on, pulling over the second-to-last article. She preferred to mark them up by hand, and she was twirling the pen in her fingers as she contemplated whether Josh needed a transition sentence between two of his paragraphs when she nearly dropped it, flinching at the unexpected brush of stubble against her jaw before relaxing as she realized it was Klaus and tipping her head to give him better access to her neck. “I’m working,” she reprimanded half-heartedly when she removed her headphones, and Klaus chuckled, flicking his tongue against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I know, sweetheart. Just bringing you food,” he said, pulling back and setting down a plate by her elbow.

She found herself a little disappointed that he didn’t push a little more, simply resting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing lightly before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you need anything else?”

She was faced with a split-second decision: Be a real life adult and get some actual work done, or have some great soulmate sex, probably some afterglow cuddling, and then get ready to go to Klaus’s art auction and drink too many cranberry vodkas.

The decision was clear.

She slowly spun around in her chair and reached to sling her arms over Klaus’s shoulders, kissing him lightly. “You.”

She was about to tease him about how smug he looked, but his hands were already sneaking under her tank top, his palms hot against her skin, and she melted against him. All thought fled from her mind as he bent to suck her lower lip and scrape it with his teeth, his hands squeezing her hips lightly. “Bed,” he murmured between kisses. “I want you in the bed.”

She hummed in agreement, pushing gently on his chest to get him to move back and standing up, leaning into him when he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down the hall to their bedroom. She felt his hand drifting lower as they walked, first to her hip, fiddling the waistband of her shorts before settling on her ass as he pushed open their bedroom door. “And how do you want me in the bed?”

She almost laughed at the brief torn expression that flashed across his face, his eyes sliding up and down her body as though he couldn’t quite decide. “I want you on top, I think. I want to watch you rock against me, your head thrown back as you ride my cock.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice a bit breathless as his hands moved down to unbuckle his belt.

“I want you to strip for me first,” he said, his voice low but firm. The underlying growl sent an anticipatory shiver down her spine, her eyes never leaving his as he sat on the bed, pulling the belt off and letting it drop to the floor.

She nodded, swallowing, keeping eye contact as she fingered the hem of her tank top. Whether they were alone or not, the way he looked at her never failed to make her feel sexy and desirable, and she pulled her tank top off in one smooth movement, letting it drop to the floor.

“Good girl,” he murmured, smirking as she let out a soft moan at his words, her face flushing. She let her gaze wander down to his hands, licking her lips as he pulled out his cock, stroking himself to the sight of her. “Shorts as well, sweetheart. I want to see you. Yes, slowly… just like that. Good girl. You’re so beautiful…”

She kicked her shorts away, her heart pounding, pussy already wet and aching. She could feel that her inner thighs were slick with her arousal as she sauntered over, her hips swaying in a movement that she knew he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

“Lie down,” she said, gently pushing his chest so that he was on his back, a low groan rumbling in his throat as his hard cock brushed against her thigh, precome mixing with her wetness on her skin.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, guiding her palms to his shoulders before easily positioning himself at her entrance, his hands hot on her hips and the guided her down.

“Fuck,” she bit out through gritted teeth, rolling her hips. “That feels so good…”

“Roll your hips for me,” he said, his eyes dark, chords of his neck tight, muscles tense. “Good girl…”

He’d spent a great deal of time observing her when he talked to her during sex, noting her likes and dislikes, and a smirk still twisted on his lips whenever her breath caught or a moan escaped her from his praise. “You feel so perfect, Caroline. So wet and tight around my cock. Come forward just a bit more. Yes, sweetheart…fuck…”’

It felt amazing, but she knew neither of them could come without a bit more friction, their preferences always having leaned toward being rougher and faster. He was trying to tease her, to draw it out, and she found that she didn’t mind at all.

Still, her body naturally tried to chase her release, her body rocking against his as she tried to find the perfect angle, and she huffed when his hands squeezed her hips to slow them down. “Klaus…” she whined. “Come on.”

“What, sweetheart?”

“I need more,” she said breathlessly, giving him her best wide-eyed imploring look.

“More?” he asked, the word dragged out with an infuriatingly smug gleam in his eye.

“Yes,” she said, her nails curling against his shoulders in what she knew was probably a painful scrape (though judging by his groan when she did it he didn’t exactly mind). “More.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I want hard and fast,” she said, relishing the way his eyes darkened, his lips parting slightly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand tangling in her hair, tugging her head back and taking a nipple in his mouth, nipping it lightly. “Tell me more.”

“I want,” she gasped, struggling to retain coherent thought as she got lost in sensation. “I want your cock in me—” she began, interrupting herself with a moan as he thrust his hips just the way she liked it.

“You have it already.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” she scolded, the effect slightly ruined by how breathy her voice was and the soft moan as he pinched her ass. “I want you to fuck me harder.”

“Bit difficult from this position, sweetheart,” he said, his dimpled grin indicating that he was having entirely too much fun torturing her.

“Then we’ll switch,” she said, her nails scratching down his chest as she moaned when he tugged her against him as she started to sit up on her knees.

“No. I want you to tell me what you want.”

“I want you on top of me,” she said impatiently, letting her teeth sink into her lower lip to muffle a gasp as he rolled his hips and pinched her nipples at the same time, her head tipping back.

“Good girl.”

She panted out his name as he let his nails bite into her ass before rolling them over. His hands pushed her thighs back gently to let him go deeper, his hips snapping as he began to move faster, and she lifted her hips in rhythm, needing more.

“Klaus…”

He didn’t have to ask what she needed, knew her well enough to guess, and she moaned as his hands slid from her thighs to cup her ass, squeezing roughly before letting a nail drag across her back entrance, her back bowing at the sensation. He bent to give her long, drugging kisses, the languid motions a perfect contrast to the fast thrusts of his cock. His lips were soon traveling down her neck, and she moaned again as his lips and teeth made what she knew would be bright, lasting marks against her pale skin. She knew that she shouldn’t find it unbelievably hot that she’d have to be careful all night to make sure the red marks didn’t peek out from beneath the bustline of her dress, but she couldn’t help but moan at the thought of it.

“I’m close,” she gasped out, her high building quickly now that he was giving her a harder rhythm and the nip of sharp teeth against her skin.

“Come for me, sweetheart. I love the sounds you make, how your pretty eyes grow deliciously dark with lust for me. I want to see you let go. I love watching you.”

She bit out a stream of expletives as she came around him, her nails raking down his back.

“Good girl. Just like that,” he growled, his hips speeding up, his hand moving between their bodies to make tight circles around her clit to extend her high. “Moan for me, Caroline. Fuck…”

She felt herself begin to grow heavy, her skin oversensitive, and she lifted her head tonip his lower lip between her teeth. “Come in me,” she encouraged, tugging his necklaces lightly. “I want you to come in me.”

She knew it would be the push he needed, and a few moments later she felt the heat running down her thighs as he rolled off, pulling her on top of him, his fingertip lazily tracing patterns up and down her spine.

She buried her face in his shoulder, hitching her leg over his hip to press closer, her breathing still a bit heavy. “l don’t want to move,” she muttered, her voice muffled against his skin, and she heard him laugh quietly, his hand stopping its movement to

rest on the small of her back.

“Tired?”

She hummed, relaxing against him. “Early mornings suck.”

“They do indeed.”

“Taking a break was totally worth it, though. I’m glad you convinced me.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the tattoo of his first words to her on her forearm. “Me too.”

#klaroline #klaroline smut #klaroline drabbles #klaroline drabble #klaroline fanfiction #captndevil #my fanfiction #mydrabbles #otp: annoyingly perfect

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bechloeficstuff · 7 years

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Best Quotes of Experimentation

Hey @redlance, remember that anon? That was me. My “collection” of your quotes sprinkled with my thoughts turned out a mess tbh, and it’s kinda really late, and way too long, but here you go anyways:

Best Quotes of Experimentation, aka The Bechloe Bible™. Chapters 1-35.

[or: what you should read if u love that fic but ur too lazy for a whole reread.]

Beca smiles a little, relieved, and tries not to shift under Chloe’s touch. She doesn’t find it comfortable, not exactly.” - Chapter 1 in the middle - because thAT’S THE FEELING THATS THE FEELING EXACTLY

“It’s fine.” She’s quick to say and now her smile is too wide, the wrong kind of bright. - Chapter 1 towards the end - “the wrong kind of bright“ really nails it. i love your word choice.

She doesn’t really want to talk to anyone right now, because even though they know better than to expect an immediate explanation or apology – and she swears that it isn’t because she’s an asshole, just super awkward – Beca will still feel like she has to give one. - Chapter 2 relatively in the middle - you’re entirely to hashtag relatable, this is Not Okay™ (jk i lov u)

And Chloe loves this. Love being given the opportunity to sit back and take in moments like these. Her best friends interacting around her, the enormous sense of family and comfort that they give her. - Chapter 7 relatively at the beginning - friends fill my heart with warmth, as does this quote

“Two girls, one cup.” It leaves her in a rush and she covers her face with her hands the second she's finished saying it. Chloe's mouth actually falls open. “That's disgusting.” She gasps after a moment, sounding thoroughly appalled. “I know.” Beca sounds so forlorn and defeated, like she's committed some heinous, ignominious offence. Chloe thinks it might be the most adorable thing she's ever witnessed. - Chapter 7 in the middle somewhere - a good example about how abso-fucking-lutely talented you are in describing feelings and the little changes in them through facial expressions in so much detail without it ever getting boring or dry - also it’s really funny :D

So, um,” excellent start, “when you said that,” and her on and off eye contact is in top form today, “that thing about wanting to kiss me?” - Chapter 8, middle - made me laugh :D

“Sorry.” She mumbles, suddenly sombre, and brushes the back of her hand against her nose. “I just...” A sigh escapes her and she hates how sad and pathetic it sounds. She hates feeling like this; weak and worthless and mopy. Because God, she hates moping. More so when other people do it because it makes her all uncomfortable and she never knows what to do. She would love to be able to tell Chloe something other than the truth. Joke that she was waiting for the redhead so they could pick up where they left off in Stacie's car. “I didn't want anyone else to find me.” What comes out though, is the truth. Which is usually how things with Chloe go. - Chapter 11, lower middle - resonated within me

also: some comparisons or phrases i was too lazy to also copy+paste. like for example chloe or beca uttering something that was like a "drunkenly conceived lovechild between a whine and a groan" or something like that or:

The earrings, her tone, and what Aubrey had later coined as Beca's “fuck off smile”. - Chapter 12 at the beginning ...stuff like that u know. i really like how you put the words together so well (idk how to say that in good english. you obviously would know tho, and that’s the point)

And she only realises that Chloe is awake when she feels her press a smile into her shoulder. - Chapter 13, lower half - this fluff is giving me diabetes i swear to god

“I can't leave anyone alone for five minutes around here. You bitches all end up drunk off your tits or gayer than Elton John, God rest his soul.” Beca presses her face into her pillow. “Elton John isn't dead, Amy. - Chapter 13, lower half - bc that was fucking funny 😂

"You know that's what they all say, right? 'One thing led to another' and then bam." Beca makes the mistake of taking a drink from her straw as he speaks. "You're pregnant." And it almost results in what Jesse would refer to a 'spit take', but she manages to keep the liquid inside of her mouth. Just barely. "Yeah, um," she wipes her thumb across her bottom lip to catch the thin smear of dribbled drink, “weirdly? Not worried about that.” - Chapter 14, relative beginning - i think i snorted pretty badly when i read that and i feel like people don’t appreciate your comedic talent enough

Amy's face contorts under the strain of her determination and Cynthia Rose pre-emptively clutches at the oversized knit blanket that they sometimes have to throw over the Aussie to get her to calm her down. - Chapter 14, end of first quarter(?) - the amy related humor just kept getting better and better. your characterization of her is also scarily accurate, i doubt that the movie writers could’ve come up with better stuff tbh

but they haven't been able to come this far in their friendship without Beca learning how to read Chloe. Chloe's kind of like a well-worn paperback at this point, even feels a little ragged around her edges, and so Beca can probably see the panic Chloe feels herself spirally towards after her reaction. - Chapter 15, first half - i love love love good comparisons and metaphors

something rattles behind her ribcage, jostled by the term of endearment. - Chapter 16, last third - beautiful yet accurate description of that feeling

she can see clear sky blue eyes – mischievous, sincere; Chloe's natural state – staring at her over the tops of her knees - Chapter 16, last third - bc imagining that just made me fall in love with the amazing character that is your version of chloe beale all over again ugh god

“Oh my god, it's like I lose control of my body when I’m around you.” The words come out as a rushed whisper, once again without her conscious consent - Chapter 16, last third - bc it was an unexpected yet very pleasant plot point

Beca feels her pulse quicken. It's a familiar beat, one that inevitably starts up whenever she's about to make a move, because initiating things isn't usually within her comfort zone. - Chapter 16, at the end - bc you can just relate to that a lot as a reader

Chloe's protest is punctuated in all the wrong place by giggles that continually tug at the edges of Beca's smile. - Chapter 18, towards the end - really nice description

Because she is really, genuinely sore and Chloe does give truly magical massages and it has nothing to do with Beca missing the feeling of her hands on her, because that would be weird. - Chapter 19, beginning - Beca’s sad attempts at denial are gold material :D

“I was conceived on the steps of the Sydney Opera House.” - Chapter 25, lower half - because I could genuinely hear Rebel Wilson saying that in a PP movie. (see: frighteningly spot-on characterization of amy)

There are butterflies mating in her stomach, she knows it. - Chapter 25, towards the end - :D

She can still recall the first time it had stormed after her father's death. - Chapter 26, relative beginning - because you don't expect the end of the sentence and it hits you pretty hard. in the feels. am i ok? not really

And Chloe can't help herself; she twists her head around and brushes her nose against the soft skin of Beca's neck before straining just enough to place a kiss to the same spot - Chapter 26, towards the end - bc that wording "can't help herself" is so accurate

Beca, who whimpers into Chloe's mouth when the redhead presses closer and deepens the kiss, and sucks a sharp breath in when Chloe's hand closes tightly around Beca's arm. Beca, who lets Chloe kiss her for far, far too long given their whereabouts before jerking away. - Chapter 26, end - bc the timing and description and everything of that kiss shows the amount of tension between those two and it's just weirdly perfect idk

Generally, Chloe aggressively and shamelessly flirting the whole time they're on that couch in those moments is my jam

Beca feels fingertips wriggling into the gap at the junction of her thumb and forefinger, and turning her hand over. It's a gesture that has been familiar for a long time now, but lately the way it effects her seems to have changed. It makes her feel extra warm or something. Nervous. - Chapter 27, middle - because every line that subtly confirms that those guys are crushing on each other makes me giddy

Because she always needs that minute of pause it seems, to re-centre, to come back to earth after a moment with Chloe. Especially one like that. Involving hands and mouths, and Chloe telling her she looks good, which so hadn't been something Beca had been hoping to hear at all. If anyone asks. - Chapter 31, beginning - made me smirk. (see: Beca’s attempts at denial)

Chloe takes the silence with that same exact smile and Beca feels those earlier butterflies return, their wings flapping as though they're rushing through the Great Stomach Migration. She swallows the rest of the glass in an attempt to drown them. - Chapter 34, first half - i’m just such a slut for a funny yet good comparison tbh

'Word vomit' has been a term she's identified with a few times over the years and she feels it now. The acrid after-taste of having said something potentially damaging lingers in the silence that follows and it probably doesn't last that long, but it feels like a lifetime passes before Chloe speaks. - Chapter 34, lower half - never thought about the aftertaste comparison of word vomit and i like it

“I thought she was dead,” Beca manages to whisper through her laughter, once the older woman is definitely out of earshot - Chapter 35, relative beginning - hilarious scene :D

Okay so obviously there were more parts that I liked but during some Chapters I just wasn’t motivated to copy+paste everything. Also; I hope the way I cited the quotes is okay, I didn’t know how else to do it. And finally, sorry for my messy thoughts and maybe incorrect English, I’m not a native speaker but I try 😅

Okay, so. Concluding statement. This story made me feel so many types of good things, not only as a Confused Questioning Gay™ that could relate, but also as a reader and human. I’m in love with this story and your writing style and your three-dimensional characters. Every new chapter is so worth the wait, and I hope you don’t get too much pressure from the angry anons; they don’t deserve you.

Thank you @redlance so much for writing this story.

#redlance #experimentation bechloe #bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fic rec #best quotes of experimentation

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film-focus-mind · 6 years

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A Vampire’s Travels BONUS chapter - Overwhelmed

I really wanted to put this chapter in earlier in the series, but I could never figure out the solution to Luca’s problem! Until I started having intrusive thoughts as of recently, which helped me figure it out. I also put a tiny hint in this about what the last present is gonna be. Remember that this present is to apologize for the other one. Enjoy!

Luca usually preferred the quiet, as he had his whole life. On this day though, it seemed like a huge crowd was talking in his head. For the past few days he suffered from a terrible migraine. It seemed that for every one person, Luca was hearing two voices. WebMD had no logical explanations but Monaco, an intern at a hospital, probably knew a bit more about this.

Luckily, Monaco was studying, sitting on a bench in one of the courtyards of the college campus Luca worked at. Maybe studying is the wrong term, because Monaco looked heavily invested in whatever they were typing about. Luca heard some bubbly music coming from their laptop.

“Hi Monaco,” Luca said, causing Monaco to press a wrong letter on their computer.

“Great job, Luca. I was about to win the mini game!” Monaco said.

“What were you even playing?”

“Um...tetris,” Monaco said as they closed their laptop. “What’s up?”

Luca sat down next to Monaco. “I’ve been hearing more lately. I don’t think this is a vampire thing, but rather an illness of some sort?”

“Why are you coming to me for medical advice?”

“...You’re working to get your MD.”

“Yeah, but I’m still a student! I don’t have that yet! Even being around dead bodies grosses me out!”

“Monaco, I am literally a cadaver.”

Monaco laughed. “I mean ones that aren’t pretending to be alive.”

“Anyways, It sounds like there are more people talking. I’ll be at a cafe and it normally isn’t that loud, but I hear additional voices that seem to have no source.”

Luca heard Monaco’s voice say, “He’s finally lost it.”

“I have not lost it!” Luca angrily replied.

Monaco raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, I just heard you say, ‘He’s finally lost it.’”

“I didn’t say that, I thought-” Monaco cut themselves off when what was really going on finally hit them. They gasped, and then smiled. With a sly look on their face, they said, “You can read their thoughts, Louis.”

“First, I prefer you comparing me to Carmila rather than any Interview With the Vampire character,” Luca said. “Second, I need to stop this!”

“Stop it?” Monaco asked. “Why would you want to stop being able to know what someone else is thinking?”

“Monaco-”

“Can the government keep secrets? They can’t stop you!”

“Monaco!”

“And just think-”

“MONACO,” Luca shouted. “This is by far the worst part of being a vampire.”

“C’mon Carm, you say that about all your vampire powers, but you end up liking them! How is this any different?”

Luca looked away from Monaco and tilted his head down. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m autistic. Hearing everyone’s thoughts and their voices are really overwhelming for me.”

“Oh,” Monaco said. “I am so sorry.”

“I understand, the wrong thing to do is refusing to change your opinions.” Luca’s watch made a tiny beeping noise. “I have to get going. I’m teaching a class in ten minutes. Do you have any possible solutions?”

“No, but I’ll try to think of some!”

“Hopefully this won’t be like the time you tried to find a substitute for garlic.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you don’t like nutmeg!

***

Luca was working on grading papers in his office when Monaco knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Luca said.

Monaco threw open the door. They were holding small rectangular present with pink wrapping paper. “I found a solution!” They happily stated.

“Does it work?” Luca asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t read minds so I wasn’t able to test this on myself, but I think it might work.”

“Is this going to be painful?”

“Depends,” Monaco said, handing the present to Luca.

Luca unwrapped the present, and when he saw what it was, he was very confused. It was a paperback copy of The Lightning Thief.

“Isn’t this an American book?” Luca asked. “My students often reference this.”

“It’s a really good book too!” Monaco said. “The plot is good, the characters are amazing, and-”

“You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to get me into this series so you’ll have someone to talk about this with?”

“...Yes. It’s about mythology! You love mythology! Plus at one point you probably thought something along the lines of Greek Mythology being real, either before or after you became a vampire. I love the series because when I first read it when I was younger because I’m adopted, and I thought, ‘hey! What if one of my real parents is a god! C’mon! It’s a book that can easily divert your mind from peering into the thoughts of others!”

“Fine,” Luca said, taking the book from Monaco. “But if I get too emotionally invested in this book-”

“You’ll have me to talk with about your headcanons!” Monaco cheerfully exclaimed. “I should go now, I have to intern at the hospital for an extra shift today, see you later, JP!”

#my writing #a vampire's travels #don't forget that I myself am autistic too!

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jenniferfaye34 · 4 years

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#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Christmas In Bayberry (Hallmark romance) by Jennifer Faye... #books @HallmarkPublishing #Hallmarkies #ChristmasInJuly #readers #amreading #Booklovers #CBPrism

On Tour with Prism Book Tours

Note from the Author

Thank you for joining me for the Christmas in Bayberry blog tour!

I know it’s hot here in the northern hemisphere and not exactly Christmastime but… maybe that’s the best time to visit a small town in snowy Vermont. So grab a nice cold drink and curl up to take an armchair vacation in a warm, cozy town.

Bayberry, Vermont is one of those places where everyone knows your name and everyone helps each other out. And the heroine, Kate Taylor, can’t imagine living anywhere else. However, trouble looms for the biggest employer in the town and Kate’s family legacy, the Bayberry Candle Company.

Enter Wesley Adams, who is a business advisor. He’s sent to Bayberry to analyze the future of the candle company. And he’s anxious to finish his task as quickly as possible as he is in line for a big promotion back in New York City. But this isn’t his first visit to Bayberry and he fondly remembers Kate. But that had been back when they were kids. Everything has changed since then. Hasn’t it?

Join Kate and Wes as they partake in holiday traditions and take a stroll down memory lane. But will it be enough to overcome the problems in the present?

Happy reading,

— Jennifer

Christmas in Bayberry:

A Small-Town Christmas Romance from Hallmark Publishing

By Jennifer Faye

Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 238 Pages

July 7th 2020 by Hallmark Publishing

She’s trying to save the family candle company. He’s trying not to fall for Bayberry—and her—again. Kate Taylor knows what she wants in life: to one day run her family’s candle business, which is at the heart of the close-knit community of Bayberry, Vermont. But the company isn’t doing well. Wesley Adams is on the fast track to be an assistant vice president at his financial firm in Manhattan. Before the promotion is announced, he’s sent to this small town from his past to do an analysis of the candle company. He doesn’t expect to bump into his childhood crush, Kate, and when he does, sparks fly. As he spends time in Bayberry, he falls for the town’s Christmas traditions—and for her. But he has a responsibility to submit an honest report. Will it extinguish Kate’s dreams…along with any chance they have for a future together? This heart-warming romance contains a free Hallmark original recipe for Cast Iron Beef Stew.

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Go to Jennifer's Contact Page HERE and order your bookmark(s)! Please state the quantity you desire and which bookmarks/titles you are interested in.Feel free to order extra to share with your favorite bookstore, library and family/friends. NOTE: A big apology but due to postal fees, only available to continental U.S. residents.

EXCERPT: He entered the very spacious corner office. The two outside walls were glass, giving a jaw-dropping view of the city. Right now, though, Mr. Summers had his full attention. Why did Chad think he was taking over Wes’s accounts? Wes stepped up to his boss’s very large oak desk. “Here’s the file you requested. Everything should be in there.” “Thank you.” Mr. Summers took the folder, then gestured to the two charcoal gray chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat.” Wes was torn between doing what the president of the company wanted or speaking up about his pending meeting. After all, Mr. Summers had the final say on who got the promotion. Wes had to stay on the man’s good side, but he also had to get his work done. Wes’s mouth grew dry. He swallowed hard. “Sir, I’m expected in the conference room on the twelfth floor right now.” Mr. Summers leaned forward, resting his elbows on the large oak desk. “They can wait.” His gray brows drew together in a formidable line. “This is important.” Wes had no idea why Mr. Summers was so worked up, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this had something to do with the promotion. Was Chad being promoted over him? He took a seat, perching on the edge. Then realizing he needed to appear wholeheartedly interested in what Mr. Summers said, and not ready to rush out the door at his first opportunity, Wes slid back in the chair. Mr. Summers got to his feet. “Can I get you something to drink?” “No, thank you.” “Well, I think I’ll get something.” The man was certainly not in any rush to get this conversation over with. Maybe the promotion had been decided upon early. And if it was bad news, he didn’t think Mr. Summers would waste time with pleasantries—in fact, he was quite certain of it. He wasn’t one to draw out bad news. “Sir, I want to tell you how happy I’ve been here at Watson & Summers for the past nine years.” “Has it been that long?” “Yes, sir. I’ve learned a lot.” “That’s good to hear.” Mr. Summers turned with a glass of sparkling water in his hand. “I know you’re up for the promotion.” “Yes, sir.” He sat up straighter and smiled. “It’s an amazing opportunity.” “You do know there’s only one spot open and a number of strong candidates.” Wes could feel the promotion slowly slipping from his grasp. After being uprooted numerous times as a kid, moving from town to town, crisscrossing the States, he liked the thought of staying in one spot for the rest of his life. There was something to be said for putting down roots. But if he didn’t land this promotion, he was going to have to rethink his plans. Manhattan wasn’t the cheapest place to live—far from it. As of right now, he didn’t have a Plan B. Mr. Summers took a drink of water. He set the glass aside. “I have a way for you to gain an edge over the competition.” Wes couldn’t help but be suspicious. Mr. Summers had never showed any favoritism toward him before, so why now? Still, he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate this—” Mr. Summers held up a hand to stop him. “You haven’t heard the plan just yet.” Wes had a feeling there would be no chance of turning down Mr. Summers—not unless he also wanted to say goodbye to his bright future at the company. And that was not something he intended to do. “I need you to go to Vermont.” “Vermont, sir?” “Yes. Bayberry, Vermont, to be specific.” “Bayberry?” Wes tried to process this turn of events. First his mother, now his boss. “Have you been speaking with my mother?” “Your mother?” Mr. Summers’ forehead creased. “Why would I speak to her?” Wes cleared his throat. “What do you have in mind, sir?” Tour Schedule

July 13th:

Launch

Rockin' Book Reviews

Pause for Tales

Books with Bethany

Remembrancy

July 14th:

Angel's Guilty Pleasures

Splashes of Joy

I'm Into Books

Jorie Loves A Story

July 15th:

Cover Lover Book Review

Peaceful Pastime

Reviewingbooksplusmore

E-Romance News

Reading Is My SuperPower

July 16th:

Reading Excursions

Ponderings from the Inglenook

Harlie's Books

Katherinelovesbooks

July 17th:

Musings of a Sassy Bookish Mama

Hallie Reads

Locks, Hooks and Books

Christy's Cozy Corners

July 18th:

Grand Finale

About the Author

Award-winning author, Jennifer Faye pens fun, heartwarming contemporary romances with rugged cowboys, sexy billionaires and enchanting royalty. Internationally published with books translated into nine languages. She is a two-time winner of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice Award, the CataRomance Reviewers' Choice Award, named a TOP PICK author, and been nominated for numerous other awards.

Tour Giveaway

One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card plus…

an autographed copy of CHRISTMAS IN BAYBERRY, Yankee Candle Bayberry, Wilton cookie cutter, Hallmark ornament, Hallmark Light-up earrings, Hallmark glass and more…

US only

Ends July 22, 2020

ENTER HERE

#Christmas In Bayberry #Jennifer Faye #Hallmark Publishing #Christmas #Christmas Romance #holiday romance #Clean & Wholesome #Small town #small town romance #Prism Book Tours #Hearts & Scribbles

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