#(walking two miles in extreme heat and humidity will do that to you)

[archivxx]

[0.10]

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Note: I will never leave any decision I make up to Nichole again. Today is truly the most embarrassing day of my life.

It had been a whole two months since you had spoken with Pete. You kept in touch with him regularly and preparations for the event were coming along smoothly. In addition, Clyde would also be performing that night which means he would be coming with you.

Today was Monday which meant that you had briefing. However, unshockingly, you were running extremely late. Your feet felt as though they were going at one hundred miles an hour.

While waiting for the elevator you rocked back and forth of your feet as though that would make it come faster. When the door finally opened you got in and pressed the button multiple times in hopes it would make go. The door began to close when an oddly familiar well kept hand pushed the door open revealing the face of its owner, and your suspicions were correct, it was Nichole. She got in the elevator mumbling a “hi” then proceeding to press the button multiple times as you had done before.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, praying to the Lord above that this elevator would move faster. When the doors finally dinged open you both shot out of there, run-walking to the conference room. Clearly you didn’t want to be late, that goes for either of you, but you were so you had to be nippy with things.

The room was packed, more full than it’s ever been. This was certainly questionable. You scanned the room quickly, your eyes landing on one familiar person. Clyde. Wait—

Clyde was at Monday briefing?

Pete was also here, stood at the front with the general business manager. In your two years working for this place not once had there been every single member at briefing, you were starting the thing it would never happen yet here you were, staring at the sea of people where were still settling down. Many, almost half, didn’t have seats.

“I think they made today mandatory.” Nichole said, “And I overheard some of the women saying that Thelman is a ‘known hottie.’” Nichole stared critically at him for a while. “I guess he’s cute. Though not nearly as cute as Tolkien.

You smiled. The air in the room was hot and humid, smelling like sweat and too many human beings. “I can’t believe we have to actually do this. This is probably a fire hazard and not even remotely relevant to our work.”

“It beats doing actual work.” She grabbed your wrist pulling you through the throng of people crowing the entrance. “Besides it’s looking this this guy is going to take you from me pretty soon.” She was joking, clearly, however she wasn’t entirely wrong, you had been spending a lot of time with Pete recently. “Consider my presence next to you as the equivalent of a father cleaning his rifle in front of his daughters boyfriend before prom.”

“Awee, daddy.”

Clearly you weren’t the only person who had noticed Clyde. Nichole jabbed a sharp elbow into your ribs. “Hey look, your mans there why don’t you go ask him for a seat.” Even though you could tell she was joking from the way she wiggled her eyebrows at you, you could also sense the seriousness in her voice. You felt yourself heat up. You could not go as sit on your fake-boyfriends lap. That would be insane. Then you remembered, to Nichole, he’s your real-boyfriend. Your reasoned that if you wanted this whole thing to be believable you probably should go and do as she suggested.

The idea was completely and utterly insane, why were you even considering it?

Your cheeks reddened again at the sheer idea. There’s no way on earth you’d do that. But then again—

Before you could even finish your rationalising, looked at him again knocking you off your train of thought completely. He was wearing his usual clothing and in deep conversation with Tweek Tweak, much to your shock, you’d never seen him here before either, nor had you pictured Clyde talking to him. Weird collab. When his eyes met yours, you grinned and waved at him. For some, yet unknown, reason that likely had something to do with their huge, ridiculous, unlikely secret.

“I can’t believe they didn’t move this to be in a bigger room. There’s not nearly enough space. Oh, no. No, no, no.”

You followed her gaze, a few new people has arrived. The crowd immediately started pushing you toward the front of the room. Nichole yelped when some guy who weighed about four times as much as she did stepped on her toe. “This is ridiculous.”

“I know. I can’t believe more people are—”

Your hip bumped against something—someone. You turned around to apologise and—it was Clyde. Or, Clydes shoulder. He was still chatting with Tweek who wore a displeased expression and was muttering, “Why are we even here?”

“Because he’s a friend.” Clyde said.

“Not my friend.”

Clyde sighed and turned to look at you.

“Hey—sorry.” You gestured in the direction of the entrance. “A bunch of new people just came in and apparently the space of this room is finite. I think it’s a low of physics or something.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’d take a step back, but…”

At the front, The general manager started introducing Pete.

“Here,” Clyde told you, making to stand from his chair. “Take my seat.”

“Oh.” It is as nice of him to offer. Not fake-dating-to-save-your-ass, spend-twenty-bucks-on-junk-food-for-you nice, but still very nice. You couldn’t possibly accept. Plus, Clyde was more prestigious than you, and was definitely older than you and all that. He did look fit but probably had a bum knee or something and was only a few years short of osteoporosis. “Thank you, but—”

“Actually that would be a terrible idea,” Nichole interjected. Her eyes were farting between you and Clyde. “No offence, Donovan, but your three time larger than our dear Y/N. If you stand the room is going to burst.”

Clyde stared at Nichole like he had no idea whether he’d just been insulted.

“But,” she continued, this time looking at you, “it’d be great if your could be me a solid and sit in your boyfriends lap, N/N.” She smirked at herself. This bitch. “Just so I don’t have to stand on my toes?”

You blinked. And then your blinked again. And then you blinked some more. At the front the general manager was introducing Pete—“he’s going to be with us for a while so I hope that you guys can welcome him.” But her voice felt as though it was coming from far far away. Possibly because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Nichole has proposed, which was…

“Nichole I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding glancing in Clydes direction.

Nichole gave you a look. “Why? You’re taking up space we don’t have, and it’s only logical that you used Donovan as a chair. I would, but he’s your boyfriend.”

For a moment, you tried to imagine what Clyde would do if Nichole’s decided to sit on his lap, and figured it would probably end up involving someone being murdered and someone doing the murder—you weren’t sure who’d be doing what. The mental image was so ridiculous that you almost giggled out loud. Then you noticed the way Nichole was looking at your expectantly. “Nichole, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because this is Monday briefing.”

“Psh. Remember last year, when Wendy and Stan made out for the whole of the planning for the new album?”

“I do—and it was weird.”

“Nah, it wasn’t. Also Craig swears that during a talk we had to go to that he saw that tall guy, you know the one, getting a hand job from—”

“Nichole.”

“The point is, no one cares.” Nichole’s expression softened into a plea. “And this girls elbow is puncturing my right lung, and I have about thirty second of air left. Please, Y/N.”

You turned to face Clyde. Who was, very unsurprisingly, looking up at you with that nonexpression of his, the one that you couldn’t quite decipher. Except that his jaw was working, and you wondered if maybe that was it, the last straw. The moment he backed out of your arrangement. Because millions of dollars in a contract couldn’t be worth having some girl he barely knew sitting in his lap in the most crowded room in the history of crowded rooms.

Is this okay? Your tried to ask him with your eyes. Because maybe this is a little too much. Way more than saying hi to each other and having a cup of coffee together.

He gave you a brief nod, and then—you, it already your body, was stepping towards Clyde and gingerly sitting on his thigh. Your knees tucked between his spread leads. It was happening. It had happed already. You were here.

Sitting

On

Clyde

This. Yep, this.

This was your life now.

You were going to murder Nichole’s off this. Slowly. Maybe painfully, too. You were going to be jailed for bestfriendicide, and you were a-okay with it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to Clyde. He was so tall that your mouth was not quite level with his ear. You could smell him—the woodsiness of his shampoo, his body wash, and something underneath, dark and good and clean. It all felt familiar, and after a few seconds you realised that is was because of the last time you had been this close. Because of The Night. Because of the kiss. “So, so sorry.”

He didn’t immediately answer. His jaw tensed, and he looked in the direction of the general manager. Pete had long left and the manager was going her regular speech. On any regular day you would have payed attention, even gobbled it down, you enjoyed logistics and economics, but right now your just needed out. Of the talk. Of the room. Of your own life.

Then Clyde turned his face a little and told you, “it’s okay.” He sounded a bit strained. Like nothing about this situation was, in fact, okay.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea she would suggest this and I couldn’t think of a way to—”

“Sssh.” His arm slid around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip in a gesture that should have been unpleasant but just felt reassuring. His voice was low when he added, “it’s fine.” The words vibrated in your ear, rich and warm. “More material for my complaint.”

Shit. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“Y/N.”

You lifted your eyes to catch his and was shocked to find him…not smiling, but something like it.

“I was kidding. You weigh nothing. I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Ssh. Just focus on what they’re saying, they might say something important.”

Thus was just..seriously, this whole business, it was complete, utterly…

Comfortable. Clyde Donovans lap was one of the most comfortable places on earth as it turned out. He was warm and solid in a pleasant, soothing way. He didn’t seem to mid too much having you half draped over him. After a short while you realised the room truly was too full for anyone to be paying attention to you, except quick glances from Tweek Tweak, who studied Clyde for a long moment then smiled warmly at you before focusing on the the briefing. You stopped pretending to be angle to hold your spine upright for more than five minutes and just let yourself lean into Clyde’s torso, he didn’t any anything but angled himself a little, just to help your fit more comfortably.

Somewhere halfway through your realised your had been sliding down Clydes thigh. Or, to be fair, Clyde realised and lifted you up, straightening your in a fist quick pill that made your feel like your really didn’t weigh anything. Once you were stable again, he didn’t move his arm from where it was snaked around your waist. His cheeks curved ever so slightly.

You looked to the sides. “Has it been weight? Having to lie to Pete about us?”

Clyde seemed to think about it. “No.” His hesitated. “It looked like your friends are buying that we’re together.”

“I think so. I’m not exactly a convincing liar, and sometimes I worry that Nichole might f get suspicious. But I walked in on her and Tolkien making out in the kitchen the other day.

After the talk, you considered staying to talk to Pete but decided the ass-kissing could wait. So you said goodbye to Clyde and waited for Nichole to wake up from her nap while contemplating sawing a dick on her face, then slowly headed with her to the recording booth.

When she finally woke up, you guys decided to go to get some food. You headed down into the lobby.

“So have a seminar to talk about BIPOC and Women in our industry, I’m also doing a few pop up events! And I wasn’t even the one who reached out first, it was the events that reached out to me.”

“Nichole, this is amazing. You are amazing.”

“I know.” Nichole’s winked, sliding her arm through yours. “What’s going on there?”

You squinted against the sun. The parking lot of the building was jammed with traffic. People blowing their horns and getting out of their cars, trying to figure out the source of the holdup. You and Nichole walked around a line of vehicles stuck in the lot, until your ran into a ground of people.

“Someone battery died, and it’s locking the exit line.” Someone, you weren’t sure who, said, some rolling their eyes some bounding impatiently on their feet. One pointed at a red truck stuck sideways in the most inconvenient turn.

You recognised it as Em’s, the receptionist.

“I pitch tomorrow—i need to go home to prepare. And why the fuck is Em just stood there leisurely talking with Donovan? Do they want us to bring them tea and cucumber sandwiches?”

You looked around, searching for Clydes tall frame.

“Oh yeah. There’s Donovan,” Nichole said. You looked back where she was pointing, just in time to see Em get back behind the wheel and Clyde jogging around the truck.

“What is he—” was all you managed to say, before he came to a stop, put his hands on the back of the truck in neutral and started…

Pushing.

His shoulders strained his Henley. The firm muscles of his upper back visibly shifted and tended under the black fabric as he Ben forward and rolled several tons of truck across…quite a bit of distance into the closest empty parking space.

Oh.

There was some applause and whistling from bystanders when the truck was out of the way, and a coup of peoples clapped him on the shouted as the line of cars started moving out of the lot.

“Fucking finally,” you heard one of them say from being you, and you stood there, blinking, a little shocked. Has you hallucinated it? Has Clyde really just pushed a giant truck all by himself? Was he an alien from planet Krypton who moonlighted as a superhero?

“N/N go give him a kiss.”

You whirled around, abruptly reminded of Nichole’s existence. “What? No. No. I’m good. I just said goodbye to him a minute ago and—”

“N/N why don’t you want to kiss your boyfriend?”

Ugh. “I…it’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

“Dude, he just moved a truck. By himself. On uphill ground. He deserves a damn kiss.” Nichole’s shoved you and made a shooting motion.

You clenched your teeth and headed in Clydes direction. Wishing you’d gone ahead and drawn twenty dicks all over Nichole’s face. Maybe she did suspect that you were fake your relationship with Clyde. Or maybe she just got a kick out of pressuring you into PDA’ing, that ingrate. Either way, if this was why one got for masterminding and intricate fake-dating scheme that was supposed to benefit a friends love life, then maybe—

You halted abruptly.

Clydes head was bent forward, brown hair covering his forehead as he wiped the sweat from his eyes with the hem of his shirt. It left a broad strip of flesh visible on his torso, and—it was nothing indecent, really, nothing unusual, just some fist guys midriff, but for some reason you could help staring at Clyde Donovan’s uncovered skin like it was a slab of Italian marble and—

“Y/N?” He said, and you immediately averted your eyes. Crap, he’d totally caught your staring. First you’d forced him to kiss you, now your were ogling him like some perv in the parking lot and—

“Did you need anything?”

“No I…” you felt your cheeks go crimson.

His skin, too, was flushed from the effort of pushing, and his eyes were bright and clear, and he seemed…well, at least he didn’t seem unhappy to see you.

“Nichole sent me to give you a kiss.”

He froze half way through wiping his hands on his shirt. And then his said. “Ah.” In his usual natural, unreadable tone.

“Because you move the truck. I—I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know. But I didn’t want her to get suspicious, and there are workers here too maybe they’ll tell the chair and it will be two birds with one stone and I can leave if you—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Breathe.”

Right. Yes. Good suggestion. You did breath and the action made you realise you hadn’t done that in a while which in turn made you smile up at Clyde—who did his mouth twitch thing back at you. You were really starting to get used to him. To his size, his distinctive way of being in the same space as you.

You squirmed. “So��should we hug or something?”

“Oh.” Clyde looks at his hands and down at himself. “I don’t think you want to do that. I’m pretty gross.”

Before you could stop yourself you studied him from head to toe, taking in his body, his broad shoulders the way his air was curling around his ears. He didn’t look gross. Not even to you, who was usually not a fan of dudes or dating or any of this.

Not gross.

“Should we just kiss?” You widened your eyes, you’d clearly caught him off guard too, you could tell by the way his expression tightened ever so slightly.

“If you think that…if your friend is watching.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “But we don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Unless you don’t want to.” Your palms felt Dan and clammy so you surreptitiously wiped them on your jeans. “And by “want to” I mean if you rubs its a good idea.” It was so not a good idea. It was a horrible idea. Like all your ideas.

“Right.” He looked past you and toward Nichole who was probably in the middle of being an entire Instagram Story on you. Or live tweeting this whole event. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

He stepped a little closer, and really, he was not gross. How someone this sweaty, someone who’s just pushed a truck, still managed to smell good was a topic worth of a Ph.D dissertation for sure. Earths finest scientist should have been hard at work on this.

“Why don’t I…” you inched into him slightly, and after letting your hand hover from a. Moment your rested it in Clyde’s shoulder. You pushed yourself up in your toes angling your head up toward him. It helped very little, as your were still not tall enough to reach his mouth, so you tried to get more leverage by tipping your hand on his arm, and immediately realised you were basically using him. Which was the exact things he asked you not to do a second ago. Crap.

“Sorry, too close? I didn’t mean to—”

You would have finished the sentence if he hadn’t closed the distance between then and just—kissed you. Just like that.

You had kissed. You had kissed—twice now. Twice. Not that it mattered no one cared. But twice. Plus the lap. Earlier today. Again not that it mattered.

“I’ll see you around right? Next week?”

He lifted his fingers to his lips, then let his arm drop his side. “Yes. On Thursday.”

It was Monday now. Which meant you were going to see each other in 3 days. Which was fine, no matter when or how often you met— “yep see you Thurs—Hey, what about the picnic?”

“The—oh.” Clyde rolled his eyes looking a little more like himself. “Right. That fu—” he stopped short. “That picnic.”

You grinned. “It’s tomorrow.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“You’re still going?”

He gave you a look that clearly stated; it not like I have a choice even thought I’d rather had my nails extracted one by one. With pliers.

You laughed. “Well. I’m going, too.”

“At least there’s that.”

“Are you taking Pete?”

“Probably. He actually likes people.”

“Okay. I can kiss ass a little bit. And you and I can show off how dearly and committed we are to the chair. You’ll look like a wingless bird. No flight risk whatsoever”

“Perfect. I’ll bring a counterfeit marriage license to casually drop at his feet.”

You laughed and waved goodbye then jogged up to Nichole.

Masterlist

To read now: [0.10-extra]

Taglist: @h3artilly @bootsieboo @southparktegreity @ryenwritess @lacunaanonymoused

#south park #bounded smau #reader insert #clyde donovan #clyde donovan x reader #nichole daniels

[bedeion-legion]

alright gays, its headcanon time

Gladion (note, im going off of anime gladion and not game gladion) - Asexual/Homoromantic - Trans FTM, who tf names their kid “Gladion”. im a trans guy, i can spot a trans name for miles - that red bit on his hoodie? its his red chest binder, ofc - His bangs are so whack because he had to cut his own hair, the more shaved bits of his hair are because he messed up and shaved off too much on the side and decided to just roll with it - He’s probably around 15 years old from my calculations - *slaps back of head* this bad boy can fit so many mental health problems and trauma (def has anxiety, depression, and insomnia at the very least) - absolutely helps Lillie braid her hair - he gave Lillie all his girly clothes, including the hat that Lillie wears all the time - He doesn’t usually show it around other people, but he has a strong love for pokemon and cares for them a lot. If he was by himself and a snom happily wriggled up to him, he would probably sob profusely while holding it - While he can be scary as hell and could absolutely beat the shit out of you, he’s secretly a lot softer than he likes to admit. He cares a lot for the people he’s comfortable around and would absolutely pick a fight for them - He really doesn’t like taking his hoodie off, even in the hot and humid Alola air. How he hasn’t died of heat stroke is a wonder - He’s incredibly smart and can quickly learn things, but guys, he hasn’t been in school for like an entire year. He’ll be able to debate complicated philosophical and social problems but ask him how to calculate the area of a sector and his brain completely breaks Bede - Asexual/Panromantic - Trans FTM but i think we all knew that one lmao, bro out here wearing the trans flag - Opal helped him feel more confident in his gender identity - He’s definitely way more thankful for Opal taking him in than he says. He may complain about her but he can’t help but thank her for actually being a good parental figure in his life IM LOOKING AT YOU, ROSE- - Gender norms are dead, Bede killed them - Hes probably a twitch streamer tbh - He has a snom that he doesn’t use in battle and instead just lets roam around the house. Its name is Snowcone (Whenever Gladion visits Bede, he usually steals Snowcone by placing it on his head. He’ll just keep it there until Bede walks into his room looking for Snowcone) - His hair is EXTREMELY soft, like a wooloo. Gladion likes to use Bede’s head as a pillow and Bede just has to deal with it - Every Saturday, all the teen Galarian gym leaders get together to go get boba and spill tea. Bede will occasionally drag Gladion along if Gladion is visiting Galar - He definitely says he’s a lot smarter than he actually is, but he’s still very smart. He’s pretty good at assessing situations and problem solving, which ironically he uses to piss people off Bedeion (Bede x Gladion) - Everyone thought that their competitive and rude exteriors would clash way too much between each other for them to get along, but plot twist! Because their trauma and personalities are so similar, they actually understand each other a LOT on an emotional level and get along really well. It still takes a while for them to gain trust in each other, of course, but they never have trouble getting along. Hell, I’d think it would be incredibly rare for them to fight about anything, even less anything serious - Bede was absolutely the first one to say that he had a crush on the other. Gladion would be internally panicking WAY too much to be able to say anything first - INDEPENDENCY IN RELATIONSHIPS ARE IMPORTANT AND WE SUPPORT THIS IN THIS HOUSEHOLD. while these two absolutely would be affectionate to each other after they gain trust in each other, they’re both different people!!!! with different lives!!!! they’re able to still do their own thing while loving and supporting each other!!!! - if they ever battled against each other in the Galar gym challenge, you better believe that it’ll be the most intense pokemon battle Galar has ever seen and property damage is inevitable. They cheer for each other when the other matches go down but as soon as they’re put against each other, their competitiveness activates and they can and will murder each other (affectionate) - Whenever they’re not visiting each other, they try and video-chat each other very often, usually at the end of the day

#bede #bede swsh #rival bede #trainer bede #gladion #gladion sm #rival gladion #trainer gladion #bedeion #bede x gladion #gladion x bede #bedexgladion #gladionxbede #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #pokemon sun and moon #pokemon sm #trans bede #trans glaidon #transmasc bede #transmasc gladion #ace bede #ace gladion #panromantic bede #homoromantic gladion #hc #headcanon #gnc bede #pkmn bede

[willowcrowned]

a really good peach can make you believe in love again

#i was totally wiped from today #(walking two miles in extreme heat and humidity will do that to you) #and then I woke up from a nap to discover my grandmother had sent me a box of peaches #as well as some raspberry jam and lemon rapsberry pound cake #and uh #I’m still tired but I’m doing a lot better #willow's life

[robertsheehanownsmyass]

heyy!! can i request a klaus x reader smutty fic please 👀👀 thank you!

The End Justifies the Means

Klaus Hargreeves x Fem!Reader  Klaus surprises reader with a steamy hike in Brazil. Little funny, a LOT smutty, a little cute. Rated M

Holy hell, were all the bugs the size of airplanes in this place?

Another insect buzzed in your ear, and you swatted it away in irritation.  “Fuck,” you panted. “I swear, if another pterodactyl tries to eat my face, I’m going to scream.”

You could hear Klaus chuckle even though he was several paces ahead of you.  “This is called ‘broadening one’s horizons’ darling.”  He paused and looked back at you; his short curls only just beginning to wilt around the edges from the sweat that was starting to appear at his hairline and neck.  “And I thought you were the adventurous type.”  He flashed you one of his trademarked grins, and you scowled.

“I’m all for adventure, but this…is…ridiculous…”  you swatted another bug.  It seemed the more you perspired, the more insects swarmed you.  “How much longer is it?”

“Oh, quit complaining,” he sighed. “It won’t be much farther, and this little hike came very highly recommended.”

You sighed and steeled yourself.  Yes, you were born and raised in the city.  That didn’t mean you were completely oblivious to the great outdoors, which you loved.  You had been on plenty of hiking and camping trips.  But this was Brazil; it was an entirely different ballgame. First of all; the heat was insane.  It wasn’t so bad when you were lounging on the beach by the ocean, sipping a cold beer or a frozen cocktail.  But out here in the rainforest, with the humidity slowly evaporating your energy and those god forsaken insects trying to suck your blood, it left something to be desired.

“Klaus,” you called out, trying to diminish the irritation in your voice.  He was, after all, clearly having the time of his life.  As uncomfortable as you were, you didn’t want to ruin that for him.  He paused again, and looked back at you.  “Can I have a swig from that canteen of yours?”  He smiled and backtracked the short distance to where you were standing.  You had a small moment to reflect on how out of balance the two of you were just then; he with the backpack and the air of the adventurer, and your sorry-self with the ridiculous bandanna wrapped around the top of your head to help keep the sweat and insects at bay– flushed and sweating buckets.

“Ah, thank you,” you smiled at him gratefully, as you gulped the cool water. You fixed him with a playful glare.  “This better be worth it, mister.”

He smirked at you.  “I think you’ll be pleased.” He turned and started to walk again, calling over his shoulder, “we won’t get there if we keep stopping. Hurry up!”

You bit off a few internal expletives and soldiered on.  You were on a small trail in what could easily be described as pure jungle, about two miles from your hotel.  You took this trip because you had so desperately needed time away. Both of you had been run completely ragged with the complications your lives entailed.  Once there were no more proverbial fires to extinguish, the two of you had agreed to clear two weeks just for yourselves, and here you were.  A romantic getaway in Rio de Janeiro; sipping rum drinks and getting massages and shagging on 800 thread-count sheets.  So why were you huffing and puffing through the jungle?  Well, Klaus was excited about it, so you agreed. After all, who could refuse Klaus when he was excited about something?

You walked and sweated and made your best effort; doing your best not to trip over any roots.  After about another twenty minutes, just when you were about to ask for some more water, Klaus stopped abruptly, holding up his hand to signal for you to wait.  He trotted forward a few paces as if to check on something, and then quickly doubled back to you, smiling.

“It’s just up ahead,” he grinned, taking your hand.  The two of you walked a short distance and around a small bend in the trail.  When you rounded the corner, you were completely stunned by the sight before you.

Before you stood the most beautiful waterfall you had ever seen.  It wasn’t particularly large, but what made it so breathtaking was the intimacy of the place.  The waterfall fell perhaps fifty feet at most, but was surrounded by vines, rocks, and incredibly lovely flowers.  The pool at its base was a nearly perfect basin, and everything about it was lush, vibrant, and yours. The place was quite literally, all yours.  For the entire two plus miles you had walked, you didn’t see another person.

You felt Klaus’s arm around you and looked up at him.  He was positively glowing with pride, looking down at you.  “Do you like it?”

“Oh Klaus,” you said.  “Klaus, I just– I’m sorry I whined so much on the way over.  This was worth it…this is amazing.”

He grinned, and wrapped his arms around you.  “I so hoped you would like it.  I wanted to take you someplace really special.  Not a restaurant or anything; someplace really amazing.  So I asked the best guy I could think of– the bartender at the hotel.”

You laughed.  “Well of course they would know all the best places.”

He laughed with you.  “Yes!  Not only that, but he assured me that nobody would bother us if we came back here today.  So…here we are.”

You looked back at the incredible vista before you, then back up to his angelic, hopeful face.  “You did well, Klaus. I feel like an ass for complaining so much on the way here.”

He stepped back a few paces, unshouldering his pack.  He let it fall to the ground with a soft thump. His eyes gleamed as he looked at you.  “I figured you wouldn’t like the means, “he smirked at you, “but I hoped the end would make it all worthwhile.”

You felt a flush wash over you.  “Whatever do you mean, Klaus?” you smirked playfully back at him.

He stepped toward you, wrapping his arms around you again.  “Darling, doesn’t the end usually justify the means?”

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard.  You grabbed the back of his head and answered his kiss, pressing your lips into his forcefully.  You opened your mouths to each other, and your tongues danced and probed, gaining passion.

Before the moment could get any more heated, he broke off, suddenly.

“Not yet, love. Let’s refresh ourselves.  Fancy a dip?”  He cocked his right eyebrow at you questioningly.  You smiled, all the blood rushing to your extremities.

“Well, as it happens, I am awfully hot…”  you smiled knowingly at him.  You stepped back and pulled your tank top over your head in one quick motion.  You paused, allowing himself to drink you in.  He ran his tongue along his lips briefly, and stepped to you, grabbing the waistband of your shorts.  You stepped back, smiling impishly.

“Uh uh, you first.”  You pointed at his chest.  He smiled resignedly and pulled his tee shirt over his head much in the same way you did.  You took a moment to appreciate his chiseled form before he resumed his previous ministrations.  “Now, my turn.”

He quickly unbuttoned your shorts and unzipped the fly before pushing them down a little roughly.  You stepped out of them, revealing nothing but black panties which matched your bra.  He reached around you and unhooked your bra with ease.  Again, he paused to survey you.  He reached one hand up to cup a breast, and kneaded it softly before you stepped back and, more breathlessly this time, said, “nope, you still have too many clothes on.”

He chuckled devilishly and allowed you to grasp the elastic waistband his shorts.  Down they went, and he was left in nothing more than leopard print briefs.  You took a moment to appreciate his incredibly beautiful form.  He was tall and lean like the Adonis of mythology, or better yet—the statue of David; beautiful and perfect. You could see the shape of his cock straining through the relatively thin material of his briefs.  Never, ever would you tire of looking at him. And here he was, with you, looking at you the same way.

Fueled by your happiness and desire, you pulled off your panties in one quick tug, and turned toward the waterfall’s pool.  “Come on, catch me,” you panted, as you ran toward the edge and dove into the pool.  You had only just surfaced when you heard the answering splash.  You swam toward the waterfall, grabbing onto a small rock just near the point where the falls connected with the pool.  You turned, gasping, laughing, and saw him pop out of the water just in front of you.  You laughed again and grabbed his shoulders, and his arms grabbed your waist from under the water.  You both laughed as you held each other; completely invigorated by the cool water and the absolute perfection of the moment.

You kissed again, deeply and passionately. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted yourself out of the water to give yourself better leverage, and kissed him thoroughly.  His tongue probed your lips, and your mouth opened to his.  You explored the depths of his mouth with your tongue as his hand gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.  You enjoyed this passionate exchange for several moments before he broke away and suddenly grabbed you, lifting you from the water.

He moved to the edge and set you on the little rock that you had swum to near the spot where the falls met the pool.  As he stood, he was able to rise out of the water in front of you.  You looked at him, gasping.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, as he spread your legs apart and began to massage your clit.  “Tell me.”

“Oh Klaus,” you gasped. “I want you. Don’t stop touching me.”

“Tell me more,” he growled, and he slipped a finger inside you.  You were so wet.

“Klaus!  Klaus– you’re so hot, and your fingers feel so good,” you moaned.

He inserted another finger, and probed your depths whilst rubbing your clit with his thumb.  His mouth was on yours again, and he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking, biting.  He hooked his fingers, hitting your inner g-spot, and you cried out.  “Klaus, please…”

Your back was arched and your head thrown back in ecstasy, so you were not entirely prepared when you felt his mouth on your sex, replacing his thumb on your clit.  You cried out again as he sucked and licked, all while pumping into you with his fingers, driving you into a frenzy.  You grabbed fistfulls of his hair as he licked you to a mindblowing climax; wave after wave hitting you as you cried out.

After you subsided, he lifted his head and winked at you.  “It’s a good thing we have this place all to ourselves.  Did I ever tell you how loud you are?”

“Shut up,” you panted, lying back along the rock wall, the spray of the waterfall enveloping you.  He chuckled and began to turn away. You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.  “Now now, we’re not finished yet, are we?”

You slid off the rock and pushed him up against the rock wall. His cock was standing just above the waterline, at full attention.

“Allow me,” you said, and you bent to the task.  He let out a small, “ Oh,” as you put your lips on the head of his cock.  You put your other hand at the base of his impressive shaft, massaging up and down as you sucked.  You took his length the best you could; his tip bumping the back of your throat before you drew it out again.  He moaned as you pulled and sucked, increasing your pace until he was gasping for breath.  “Oh my love,” he panted, and you felt his balls twitch as his climax neared.  “Oh babe, I’m gonna come…” Before he could, you released his cock from your mouth with an audible pop, and quickly turned and swam off, leaving him standing there in hip deep water; chest heaving.

“Where…where you…” was all he could manage between pants, and you looked back at him, grinning mischievously.  “Did you think this game was over?  Catch me!”  You giggled and submerged, swimming toward the other side of the pool.  You came up at the other side, in a place that was covered with vines and other vegetation.  You were beginning to contemplate whether you should get out of the water when Klaus was on you, half-laughing and half-growling.

“Got you,” he breathed as he lifted you out onto the edge of the pool.  He stood up, matching your height.  His eyes glittered as he pushed you back and spread your legs, exposing you.  You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he gripped the head of his cock and positioned it at your entrance, its lips swollen with arousal.  He put your thighs over his shoulders, and turned his head and gave one of them a quick bite.  You jumped a little, then giggled. He put his hands on the rocks on either side of your body, and pushed his full length into you.  You both gasped as his cock filled you, stretching you, and he withdrew almost completely before shoving himself back in.  You forced your head up to look at him as he began thrusting steadily, and his eyes lifted to meet yours.  You locked eyes as he pumped; fucking you, rocking your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy.  “Klaus, oh god,”  Your hips bucked as he slammed you, your skin slapping audibly at the contact.  You raked your nails down his back as he pounded into you, and you felt your climax building.  “Don’t stop!” You cried, and he thrust again and again and again, your orgasm arriving full-force, blackening your vision.  Wave after wave of pleasure overcame you, and he moaned.  He tensed up as his own climax hit him, and he spurted his seed into your depths.

He lay on top of you, limbs completely spent.  You panted together, and you twined your fingers in his curls.  After a short while, you sat up, and cradled his head against your breast, stroking his face.

“Well that was something,” he breathed, and lifted his head to meet your eyes. There was so much tenderness in his expression that you thought your heart would break from the joy of it.  He chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” you said, smiling.

“Didn’t I tell you the end would justify the means?”

@joz-stankovich @spaceclone-mom

#klaus hargreeves x reader #robert sheehan character fic #the umbrella academy fic #love stories event #klaus hargreeves smut

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead AU || CHAPTER ONE.

‘You have to trust that every friendship has no end, that a communion of saints exists among all those, living and dead, who have truly loved God and one another.

You know from experience how real this is.  Those you have loved deeply and who have died live on in you,  not just as memories but as real presences.’

HENRI NOUWEN

                        The Walking Dead.

       Season 1-?

                                        FEM OC! and ?

Enjoy :) and here is the link to the PROLOGUE!

College. Something I never went to. Sure the thought was there. The ideas to get my diploma and possibly becoming a doctor sounded like a great idea. Until I hit senior year of high school. That was when I realised that maybe I'm not meant for school. Sitting in a classroom wasn't my ideal cup of tea, but I stuck it through high school because I was determined to not become a high school drop out.

When I was in high school it was as though everybody had already figured out what they were going to when they took their first steps into the big, bad world. I was never like that. I left high school and I felt lost. I had no clue what I wanted to do. I convinced myself that I was a disappointment to my family because everybody instantly knew what career path they wanted to pursue and I didn't.

I felt that way until I joined the police academy, a year after I left high school. I was in a real slump, applying to anything and everything, I wasn't getting anywhere until Ally suggested the police force. I instantly declined, not believing that I had any chance of making it. I wasn't the most physically active, any chance I got to skip gym class I grabbed with two hands, but the Police Academy was tempting. I wanted to challenge myself and also prove to all the people who thought I couldn't do it wrong.

And I'm glad I did. Joining the P.D was by far the best decision I made in my life. I found myself as a person. I went from being this shy, delicate flower to an independent and determined individual.

Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I didn't experience what's it's like to be a typical college student. I attend my fair share of parties, not that I enjoyed them but I still went to please Corey who didn't want to go alone because apparently, that's embarrassing. Aside from the parties, I don't understand why people stick it through college, sure a degree is a good excuse but honestly is any college student happy? Judging by the faces passing by my car the answers no.

My mind is still on autopilot from what had happened not even a half-hour ago. The scene still vivid in my mind, like a record, stuck on repeat, it won't leave me alone. Maybe if I hadn't rushed her out the door then she would still be here, at home with her husband, happy. Her husband. I've ruined a family-

My thoughts being abruptly stopped by the sound of knuckles furiously knocking on the only rolled up window. Moving my drooping eyes to the source only to be met by the slightly annoyed face of my sister Cora. Leaning over to push down the lock, I'm smacked in the face with the humid Atlanta heat.

"About time, I've been knocking for five minutes," she exclaims holding the door open, entering the car. Only humming in response, repositioning myself in the driver seat, staring deadly out the window, "Wow, what's up?" She asked instantly knowing something's off.

"What? Why would anything be up?" Shaking my head, trying to focus on now and not the past, "Oh I don't know maybe you burning a hole into my school with your eyes or the fact that you haven't acknowledged Maggie in the back seat." She states with that smart tone that I love oh so much.

Swirling round in my seat, I met with the contagious smile of Maggie Greene. She a delightful one. A pure soul who could honestly do no wrong, and yet somehow she's best friends with Cora. The pair are polar opposites, like two peas from completely different pods but it somehow makes sense. Cora is like a hyperactive puppy whereas Maggie is a house cat. Maggie keeps Cora grounded. Without Maggie, I don't even want to know where Cora would be.

When Cora first started college she got in with the wrong crowd. She started to miss important family events; like our weekly game of family-friendly monopoly. Cora wasn't Cora anymore, she was someone new, she was trying hard to become something she wasn't. That's until she met Maggie. Apparently, Maggie went through something similar, I don't know all the details, that's a secret between them. All I know is that they met in the student car park at night completely shitfaced with no way to get home. It all came from that singular moment of stupidity, and I'm glad it did because I've already 'lost' one sister, I don't need to lose another.

"Hi Maggie, sorry just had a weird day at work," I half lied, staring up the car again driving out of the almost desert car park, "The farm?" I asked, knowing where to drop her off having done it a couple of times.

"Don't worry about it Macy, we all have our days, and yes please if you don't mind," her southern accent radiating through the car, a genuine smile covering her face meeting at her eyes. Nodding my head, my eyes training back on the road but my mind and eyes can't help but wonder. It was only a few miles back that I saw those things from the news, they could be lurking around here too.

"You will not believe what Ashton said to me today," Cora said, kicking her feet up on the dash of my car, her hand sitting comfortably behind her head. "Oh please do tell," taking one hand off the wheel to push her dirty Dc. Martens on my beloved car.

Scoffing as her feet slap against the floor of my car, y'know where a normal passenger's feet are supposed to go, "He said, 'i think we should see different people', and I was like 'why', and he said, get a load of this, 'I just don't think it's working out'. Yeah no shit it's not working out, he never calls me, never texts me, and that's the first time he has ever spoken to me in school," leaning towards the cool air drifting through the window as she rants about her love life.

"Ashton a grade-A douche, I pretty sure we've had this conversation every time I pick you up," I state as the boredom begin to consume me at the ritual of Cora's love life discussion coming up once again. Looking in the rearview mirror I see Maggie nodding her head in agreement, "I agree, out of all the guys in our school you choose Ashton," she gags making a yuck sound, her face scrunching up at the thought of her best friends boyfriend.

"It's kind of your fault y'know," I laughed as she sided eyed me, "you met a guy called Ashton and expected him to what? sweep you off your feet?"

"She's got a point," Maggie pointed out hiding her laughter better than me, "No she doesn't!" Exclaimed Cora as she turns around to fully face Maggie in the back middle seat, "what about your love life huh, oh yeah it doesn't exist," she sassed hands crossed over her chest, a smirk on her face as though proud of her very mediocre remark.

Shaking my head at my sister's antics, "Maggie will meet a guy when she's ready too. Just because she not actively looking doesn't mean it will never happen. And I bet when she does meet someone, he'll be a million times better than Ashton or any of those other guys you've been with."

"Thank you, Macy," I hear her quietly responded, shyness overtaking her voice at my comment. Not being able to hide my smile at the innocent girl behind me and the slightly ticked off girl beside me, "um hello! You're supposed to be on my side-," Cora's voice shuts off to a silent whisper. Confused at her sudden change of tone, I glance her way. Her eyes trained directly out the front window, never blinking.

Trying to find what she was looking for wasn't hard. It's them. Only a few, 2 male and 1 woman, a couple of meters away from my travelling car. These are different, they're nothing like the ones I encountered earlier. The ones from before were coming towards me at an agonising walking pace, these ones however are running, running extremely fast.

Cora's heavy breath begins to fill the car, as Maggie mutters incoherent words. I however am static, this wasn't just a one time encounter. In the space of not even an hour, I've seen a dozen of these people. The government has issued official reports telling us, the public, that's there is absolutely nothing to worry about and they have this all under control. At first, I believed that, but now with these thing sprinting towards my car, I'm beginning to beg to differ.

"Um, Macy drive. Macy, please drive!" A panicked Cora heaves in my ear. Judging from my previous encounter, fight or flight is not an option right now. Not until I fully understand what these things are.

My tires make the all to familiar shrieking against the warm tar, with nowhere else to go but straight through the few in the middle of the road. The sound of the dead weight hitting the bonnet of my car before flying over the top was like nothing I've heard before. It's sounded sickening. A mixture of bones clashing and screams. A horrific sight and sound.

The car stayed in utter silence until I pulled up to the Greene farm, to where none of us dared to move a muscle. You could hear a pin drop over the sounds of slightly irregular breathing. The beating sun shining through the front window causing the car to feel more insufferable.

"That's those things from the new isn't it?" Asked Cora quietly as though scared to break the silence. Having not enough courage in my voice to reply, I just simply nod, "that's why you had a weird day at work, wasn't it?" She asked again, this time staring at me but I refuse to meet her eyes only nodding again. Hearing the shaky breath from behind me and the sound of the door opening, snapped me back to reality.

Looking out through Cora's window, I see a slouched Maggie struggling to keep her balance. Pulling my lips into a tight smile, "Be safe," I said gently toward the shaken up girl. Muster up a nod she replies, "you too, the both of you," before turning round to met her sister Beth at the porch. Seeing the pleasant girl brought a smile to my face as I waved back to the gleeful youngest Greene.

Once Maggie was safely inside her farmhouse that's when I pulled away, only to have something at the corner of my eye catch my attention. Hershel, Maggie's father, walking away from the slightly beat barn. In his hands some sort of animal handling pole. Nothing unusually really, Hershel is a vet but that's not what's concerning. The glooming blood dripping slightly off the loop is however concerning.

"Hey Mr Greene," greeted Cora, her voice still failing her a little. Laughing at the younger girls formalities, "how many time have I told you to call me Hershel," he said walking closer to the car, a cloth in hand as he tried to discreetly clean the pole in his hands, but the deed was already done, I had already seen it.

"A couple more times should do the trick," she tries to joke, wanting to forget what had just happened. Luckily enough Hershel doesn't notice the pressed bloody handprints of the front and sides of my car, as he leans to see me at the driver's seat, "Thank you for dropping our Maggie off again Macy, it really means a lot."

"Don't sweat it. Didn't want her travelling back home herself especially now with the mess that's all over the news," a sharp inhale from Cora causes me to reach over, comfortingly grabbing her sweaty hands in my own, rubbing the backs for her hands softly.

"Ah yes, I did see that. I'm sure its nothing to worry about," he waves his hand slightly, looking over his shoulder at the barn he had just left. I frowned my eyebrows at the elder's change in body language; his wondering eyes and shuffling feet are causing me to doubt the man's knowledge of the current situation.

"Better safe than sorry I guess," I dismiss getting ready to drive off again, "I suppose you're right," his voice becoming harder to hear with him no longer facing me. The sound of my engine starting up again is what snaps him in our direction, "Well Thank you again, have a good day," he farewelled beginning to make his leave, walking up the same creaking steps to the porch.

Before he could catch the door handle, I yell, "Hey Hershel," catching his attention, "Be safe," only to receive a simple nod before he descended into his home. Home.

"Let go home," I exhale tapping my sister leg, catching her teary eyes, "we'll be fine."

I don't know who I was trying to reassure, Cora or myself, but with what has been going on recently, I think everybody could use a bit of reassuring.

This is quite a short chapter but I need to start somewhere right? If you took the time to read this, Thank you! and I hope that you liked it :) 

I might start a taglist for this au, so if you would be interested in being tagged when I post for this au then just message me or comment to let me know!

I’m going to try and post chapter two later today hopefully too :))

DAISY.

#twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead au #twd imagines #twd au #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagines #rick Grimes x reader #glenn rhee #glenn rhee imagines #glenn rhee x reader #carol patelier #Maggie greene #Maggie greene imagines #michonne #negan #negan imagines #negan x reader #the walking fanfiction

[stopeatingwhales]

stargazing x graham coxon

yes, i’m back again with another graham fic! this was heavily inspired by the submarine ep by alex turner, a very beautiful, lyrical masterpiece which i definitely recommend you listen to if you haven’t already :)

Paring: 90s graham coxon x reader

Warnings: nothing again 

Word count: 1.886

Requested by anon, happy late birthday x

༉‧₊˚✧

Summer in England was something everyone craved. The agonisingly horrible winter days where you’d stiffly trek to the train station for work wrapped up with all sorts of things to maintain your body heat were abominable. Having to put on countless amounts of layers just to get a bag of crisps from the shop down the road was a nightmare, and everyone was sick of it. When the short summer months rolled round, we were all either sweating drearily in our homes or practically naked on the streets. As we rarely ever got sun in England, having it out once in a while with a clear blue sky was gratifying. It was a concept, without the crowded beaches or humid restaurants - due to the amount of people cramming in them - the hot days felt eerie. Everyone was out, until the sun went down for hibernation for a few short hours. 

I personally loved summer nights the best, especially on my birthday. The streets were empty, the only noise you’re able to hear is the short whistles of cars racing by on a motorway a few miles off. The echoing sound of an insect, perhaps a fly, buzzing quietly as it searches for a new settlement for the evening. The whistling noise of polluted air heaving past my face and occasionally in my eyes. My favourite thing in the world was gazing at the atmosphere as it gradually inked darker, admiring the small specs of light that had progressively gotten brighter - the stars. In summer I felt the stars always shone a little brighter. A little more luminous. I was able to identify any star constellation that ever so slightly patterned the skies; my liking for the heavens had me so hooked I ended up finding out all I could about them.

It was my birthday today, and I had hoped I could spend it with Graham, doing the exact thing I loved most. Sadly enough I was unable to do anything today, due to me having to go to work for the most part and Graham only coming back from his band rehearsals around two or something hours ago. Weekdays were usually like this, us both having practically no communication until the late evenings when he would come home from yet another draining day of recording.

Sighing, I came to my senses and stopped glooming my eyes through the kitchen window. It was 10pm, so the skies were somber enough to identify any ball of gas - my want for going out and watching the stars growing the more I pondered about it. The window was opened slightly, the light breeze scraping the little camouflaged hairs on my arms. It was soft, delicate, almost like the air that escapes someones’ mouth when they’re whispering. Gentle. Fragile. Mellowed. Sometimes the wind would pick up, the soft grazing turning into scruffy drags, forming goosebumps on my forearms. I loved it; I loved how simple howls of the wind formed strong structures on my body. Just like the stars, I could sit and admire nature as a whole for days.

Exiting the kitchen, I dropped my empty coffee mug in the sink. My hand caressed my arms softly, grating on small itches that had assembled on them earlier. Strolling into the living room, I stood by the doorway, biting my tongue as I watched my boyfriend Graham, tune his acoustic. I pondered whether I should leave him to it, he seemed extremely preoccupied by something as he always was - which was music. I knew how much being a famous rock star was debilitating him, especially when he wasn’t the centre of attention, putting tolls on his mental health. I felt for him deeply; watching your bandmates receive much more love than you do would definitely hurt, even so as a lead guitarist. 

“Hey, love,” I muttered, my head leaning on the door frame. I watched his head jolt up; he didn’t hear my quiet footsteps to the entrance of the room. “Hehe sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” 

He smiled slightly, echoing a small ‘hey’, before carrying on with his same doings. I bit my lip in thought, wondering whether I should say something or leave the room to let him do his thing. 

When about five minutes - which felt like two hours - passed by, I chose to speak up. “Wanna go and watch the stars for a bit?” I asked, seeing his head rise up from his instrument once again. God, his eyes are so alluring.

It was clear there was a lot on his mind, and the question lingering in the room peppered in his mind until he spoke up. “Yeah alright,” he answered, nodding also. Shifting his guitar to stand on the arm of the sofa he was sitting on, he pushed it away from his body, standing up. He stretched his arms out slightly, as he had been fixated in that same position for god knows how long. He seemed tired, exhausted perhaps, causing a small feeling of guilt to pit in my stomach, my mind forcing myself to push past it quickly. 

A small smile formed on my mouth as I marvelled at his appearance. His hair was just the right amount of messiness, it framing his face perfectly. His eyes softly squinted together, ultimately showing that he was making the most out of his stretch. His lips, forced together to stifle a yawn, in an attempt to hide his tiredness from me. His features were so enthralling. He was always so graceful, my body physically incapable of understanding why he found himself ugly; all he seems to ever be is the most graceful of them all.   

“Come on then,” he said, pushing my body lightly, helping me gain my consciousness again. “You always zone out,” he laughed, resulting in me rolling my eyes at his remark. The only reason I seem to space out so much is because of you, Graham. You and your flawless beauty.

After we left the flat, we began walking up the stairs to the roof of the building. My pace was slightly quicker than Graham’s - my excitement had consumed me entirely. I grabbed hold of his hand, trying to pull him up as I swept the endless amounts of steps, feeling the grip of his palm tighten around my hand as I paced faster. Our flat was nearer to the bottom of the building, meaning the jog up to the top was usually a tiresome one. My legs were beginning to give out, but I never halted. The adrenaline rushed through my veins - I felt as if I was chasing for the stars, and I was chasing them with the one person I adored most. 

Eventually, we managed to reach the roof, both of us inevitably out of gasping for air. My gaze turned to him, our eyes connecting as we stared at each other wholeheartedly. I tiredly beamed at him, him exchanging the same, as my view shifted to lock eyes with the stars. I let out a breathy sigh of satisfaction; we hadn’t done this together in ages, and I missed having endless conversations about whatever escaped our mouths. He was truly a remarkable person to be around, and I was ever so grateful to be able to call him my boyfriend. 

I proceed to lay on the ground, not caring whether any trace of dirt had entwined in my locks. My eyes fixated on the sky above me, the tired smile stilled on my face. I watched Graham do the same through my peripheral, lying down close to me, our arms touching. Squeezing up to him, I grabbed the hand that was touching mine gently, and cradled it with both my hands on my stomach. I ran my index fingers over every vein, every bump of a bone, every piece of skin I could mount to. “Your hands are so beautiful,” I mumbled.

Graham didn’t reply. Instead, he bit his top lip and blushed. I knew he wasn’t going to answer, and I didn’t want him to; I wanted to savour the moment as it was. We rarely were able to just have the clocks stop for a second, not care about what time it was, or whether we had to sleep early for our jobs the following day. It’s like the summer, you never know when you were able to just sit there and let the sun bake you, the unexpected clouds seaming over you just as you thought you had time to yourself. 

Exhaling softly, I shifted my gaze to the twinkling night sky. The darkened colour of the empyrean, glinted with small dazzles of light, fell over me as I drew my eyes to the moon. I stared at it, analysing the aged, grey patterns that decorated it on the only face that was known to man. “I missed this,” I heaved, grabbing hold of his hand again, this time intertwining our fingers together. I felt Graham’s eyes on me, but I didn’t budge. The relishing feeling of his stare roast my body and my face together evoked a sense of warmth within me, something I had never felt before with anyone, but him. 

The silence that fell upon us spoke for itself. It wasn’t a disturbing, unsavory one, it was a blissful, comforting one. It was the kind of silence you could fall asleep to, the silence you feel safe and enclosed by. It was the epiphany of actions speaking louder than words, and I absolutely adored it. 

“Y/n, can I tell you something?” Graham asked, causing me to lock eyes with him. 

“Of course you can,”

He breathed in for a few seconds, before exhaling a breath that was longly needed for an escape. I smiled at him, his beautiful globes of mercury connecting with mine. “I love you more than life,” he whispered, cradling my face in his hands. I smiled at him dearly, my eyes filled entirely with nothing but adoration for him. 

Copying his actions, I held his face with my small palms. My eyes tearing up as his words repeated countless amounts of times in my head. “Don’t love anything more than life,” I muttered, taking a brief moment to delight the moment before nonchalantly reaching to kiss his pretty lips. I grasped hold of him like a candy tasting so divine you suck on it to have the sensational taste for longer. The feeling of our mouths colliding sparked thrills throughout my entire body. The way our tongues brushed against one anothers, so sweet it turned bitter. 

We both pulled away out of breath, our eyes now wide open, staring into each others’ souls. I felt completely and utterly exposed to him in all ways possible, like my shield of clothing was not enough for him to not see the miles of skin laid underneath. I admired him, my mouth wide open as I panted for oxygen to fill my throat from the poisonous kiss. Everyday I fell more and more in love with this man, words unable to explain how much he impacted my life for the better.

“Happy birthday,” he said, smiling with that toothy smile of his. We both turned to gape at the skies once again, hugging each others’ bodies.

#graham coxon x reader #graham coxon #damon albarn #alex james #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #90s #writing #imagine #smut #fluff

[aventurasdeunatortuga]

Laredo Part 2

Week 1

Hey friends,

After a long travel hiatus, as some of you may already know, I am back in Laredo, Texas. I’ll be here for about 3.5 weeks working with shelters to support recently arrived asylum seekers at the US Mexico border. I was here 2 years ago doing the same thing, you can go through the laredo tag on here to get some more background about what is going on here and to read about my experiences in 2019.

I have been here already for about a week and have been so exhausted I haven’t had the energy to write anything, but here is more or less what is going on.

So since Fall of 2019, the border was closed to all asylum seekers thanks to 45’s cruel Remain In Mexico policy, which forced asylum seekers from Central America to wait along the Mexican border for an undetermined amount of time until they could get an immigration hearing. In the past asylum seekers could wait with their families in the US for their court dates (it can be a long wait). Waiting at the border in Mexico, a country they are not from, left folks vulnerable to human trafficking, kidnapping, gang violence, and extortion from the cartels operating along the border. During COVID folks were living in makeshift tents along the border with no running water and were left vulnerable to exposure, flooding, disease, dangerous wildlife, and the millions of other dangers that come from being outside in 113 degree heat with no water. There was no international aid brought in and support was limited to the few aid workers allowed to cross the border, which was very dangerous given the amount of gang violence on the Mexican side. One shelter director in Nuevo Laredo was kidnapped and murdered last year.

When Biden was elected, he reversed the Remain In Mexico policy just a few weeks into his presidency. Meaning that asylum seekers could now enter the US after surrendering at the border and being held for indeterminate amounts of time in ICE detention centers. Once they are released from there they are given a court date in wherever their final destination in the US is, but are left on the street with nothing.

Most folks are illiterate, none speak English and some only speak indigenous dialects. All of their possessions and money have been taken by either cartels or by ICE. Most havent eaten in days and many are seriously ill. None of them know where they are or how to get where they’re going. ICE will drop them off at random towns along the border after releasing them from detention, sometimes hundreds of miles from where they crossed. They just have a name and phone number memorized of a friend or family member in the US that is sponsoring them and who they are planning to stay with.

The vast majority of folks are from Central America, they are fleeing cartel violence , government persecution, extreme poverty, and natural disasters caused by climate change. The instability in these countries (Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and El Salvador) was caused directly by US intervention, but that’s a whole other topic I won’t get into now. Folks must show a credible proof of being threatened or persecuted in their home country to even be granted the status of asylum seeker and to be given a court date.

Shelters in border towns do what they can to support folks being released from detention. They help them make phone calls, provide translation, help them buy bus and plane tickets, give them food, water, medical care, showers, clean clothes, toiletries, and a safe place to sleep until they are able to make travel arrangements to their final destinations.

During the last 2 years under the Remain In Mexico policy, no one was being admitted and so shelters lost a great deal of funding, staff, and volunteers. They turned more towards community work, which was especially needed during COVID.

Shelters are in a difficult position now though, folks are allowed to enter now which is good news but shelters are having to meet even more extreme needs with far fewer resources than they had pre-COVID.

For a long time the shelter I worked with before, La Frontera, was closed due to lack of funding; but only very recently reopened again. I have been spreading my time between La Frontera (run by Catholic charities) and the other shelter in Laredo, Holding Institute Community Center, which is a community center run by the Methodist Church. Both of these shelters have 2-3 paid staff members, a revolving door of volunteers from around the country (the majority of them nuns), are entirely donation based, and receive 200-300 new people every single day.

About 20-30% of each busload of people that ICE drops off are infected with COVID. ICE refuses to test folks that they detain for COVID because if they knew they had positive cases they would have to provide healthcare and a place for them to quarantine. Instead they lump everyone together in cramped conditions and COVID is allowed to run rampant in these detention centers.

In detention folks are kept in overcrowded rooms, communicated with almost exclusively in English, are provided limited food and toiletries, and are kept in refrigerated rooms (65 degrees) with no blankets. These places are called the ‘ice boxes’. Sometimes folks are separated from their families here as well.

Lately there has also been a dysentery outbreak due to the fact that the city of Laredo does not currently have drinkable water, residents are advised to drink only bottled or boiled water, which asylum seekers do not have access to until they reach the shelters.

When folks reach the shelters, they are given on the spot covid tests by a team of nurses and public health officials. There is no room for them at the hospitals, even if there were room hospitals wouldnt accept them because they have no insurance. The city government has offered bottled water to the shelters but thats it.

After being tested for covid, the health team divides folks into 2 groups, positive and negative. Folks who test positive have to quarantine for 10 days in an empty warehouse next door to the shelter or if they’re lucky and the shelter can afford it, a motel. Yesterday the shelter bought out a motel because there were 200+ covid patients who arrived. We have two small classrooms at the shelter that have been converted into sleeping areas for about 40 covid patients. The medical team leaves boxes of food and clothing outside their door, and once a day they are taken to shower and then the entire bathroom is sanitized.

Those who test negative are immediately vaccinated on site, and then taken to get clean clothes, food, and a shower. They sleep on cots outside under the trees in the fenced courtyard of the shelter.

For the first few days I’ve been here, I’ve been working at Holding only because I didn’t know La Frontera had reopened. I was mainly working on sorting and organizing clothing and helping folks find clothes that they need. Last night though 200+ covid positive patients arrived and we had to stop allowing people in the building to pick out clothes, and today we moved to just putting together kits of different sized clothes to give directly to them.

I was feeling a bit frustrated the last few days because the staff member in charge of organizing donations was being extremely critical of me and it was very frustrating and degrading to be around. I was yelled at a number of times by her. For example, I saw a pile of 200 towels on the ground and folded them. I was told that I did it wrong, to unfold them and fold all of them a different way. Or I started organizing toiletries and was just told ‘no, you’re messing it up, don’t touch that’. I understand that I’m new but no one took the time to introduce themselves to me, orient me, or show me what to do and I was trying to be helpful. I also understand that folks are stressed and under pressure but please don’t take it out on people trying to help you. Most everyone there is extremely nice it was just one of the staff members in particular that was acting this way. I was told I wasn’t allowed to give water or shoes to people who needed them because “I didn’t know how to do it” and because “if you give water to one person, everyones going to want it, and i don’t have time for that”. I didn’t come down here to sit inside doing nothing next to a giant case of bottled water and be told I’m not allowed to give it to the thirsty person in front of me.

So I walked out and I left the shelter in the middle of the day to go drive around town and take a breather, because everything I did seemed like made someone upset. When I came back I inserted myself into the kitchen crew and ended up making 200+ sandwiches for dinner. I also had a long talk with one of the nuns who assured me that that staff member is like that with everyone and has a lot of control issues due to the amount of pressure she is under, and not to take it personally. She told me that La Frontera had reopened and so ever since then I started dividing up my days between the two shelters. This has made a big difference and I feel a lot better and more useful.

I also connected more with some of the nuns here and they invited me to dinner tonight which was nice. One of the sisters is writing a book based on narratives of folks passing through these shelters and is interviewing people she meets. It was fascinating to talk to her. She has worked with undocumented immigrants and DREAMers from around the country for 28 years, and wrote another book based on those experiences called Silent Voices In The Shadows (Paula Schwendinger), which I just finished reading and highly recommend.

Oh, also it has been raining really hard for the past day or so with 95% humidity and constant thunder and lightening, which has made things even more interesting.

I will try to keep posting semi regularly while I’m here.

#laredo #texas #borderlands #immigration #asylum seekers

[hood-ex]

If you like hurt!Jason + Dick being a good older brother then boy howdy, do I have a fic for you. 

Summary:

For the fifth time in less than a minute, Dick cursed his luck that Jason got knocked out from a tranq while they were being chased by magic androids in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

“Thanks a lot, kid,” he muttered as he stumbled over rocks and fallen branches. Jason, who was too dead to the world to realize that Dick was fireman carrying his ass away from danger, wasn’t able to answer with a snarky remark.

Read on AO3 or below the cut. Chapter 1/2.

For the fifth time in less than a minute, Dick cursed his luck that Jason got knocked out from a tranq while they were being chased by magic androids in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.  

“Thanks a lot, kid,” he muttered as he stumbled over rocks and fallen branches. Jason, who was too dead to the world to realize that Dick was fireman carrying his ass away from danger, wasn’t able to answer with a snarky remark.

Dick tried to ignore how the silence from his brother unnerved him by pausing to check over his shoulder for any androids on their tail. All he saw was lush green trees and bushes that stretched on for miles and miles. No shiny metal in sight.

Dick didn’t dare let his guard down. He knew the androids were coming for them. Well, more specifically, for Jason. The Outlaws were clearly on someone’s shit list and were being hunted down like dogs.

They’d learned pretty early on in the fight that the androids weren’t interested in Dick, but they’d been more than happy to swarm Jason and Artemis. Dick figured the androids were programmed with facial recognition, and since they weren’t programmed to recognize Dick’s face, they ran right past him. It was a blessing for Dick and a curse for Jason.

The androids were drawn to Jason like a beacon. Dick doubted the explosion he set off earlier would dissuade the androids from finding them for much longer.

Sweat from Dick’s temple trickled down towards the corner of his lip. He wiped it away on Jason’s pants. Fuck, it was hot outside. Running around with over two hundred pounds on his shoulders in Maine’s humid air was almost unbearably uncomfortable.

He was running pretty low on energy, having used most of it to smash the android’s heads in. Carrying Jason around certainly didn’t help. It was frustrating because Dick knew his slow pace was putting them in danger. On the flip side, stopping would shorten the distance between them and the enemy.

Still, he wouldn’t be much use if he was too exhausted to protect Jason. And another problem he’d been thinking about for a while was that he needed food and water to be at the top of his game.

He wasn’t too worried about food since he had a protein bar stored in his glove. Water was the bigger worry. They had some on their plane. Only problem was that it would take Dick some time to backtrack to get to it, assuming he’d even get to that point. If he couldn’t make it to the plane by evening, he would have to track down a creek or a river. The thought was extremely unappealing to his tired mind and muscles, but if it meant life or death, he’d do it. With that thought in mind, he decided to find a place to recharge.

Dick was panting by the time he stumbled upon a cluster of giant rocks that were shrouded somewhat decently by neighboring trees. Two of the large rocks crossed over each other, leaving a hole between them that looked just big enough to fit both Dick and Jason inside of.

Arms and shoulders burning, Dick decided the rocks would be good enough to camouflage them from sight. He stopped in front of the hole, and with a grunt, he carefully lowered Jason to the ground. Knowing Jason’s head was protected by his helmet, he grabbed Jason by the legs and slowly dragged him inside the hole. Jason would probably be pissed about the dirt stains on his jacket when he woke up, but Dick was quickly running out of fucks to give.

It wasn’t until Dick was fully submerged in the hole that he realized his mistake. The smell of soil invaded his nose, and before he knew it, he was living through a PTSD nightmare. There was an instantaneous feeling of his lungs feeling way too small, like he was breathing through a straw.

It was too tight here. Too small. Too dark. Dirt was fucking everywhere. In his hair, on his legs, under his fingernails. His hands hurt so bad. He needed to breathe, but he couldn’t. He had to save his air. There wasn’t much of it left. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic!

Hands shaking, Dick ripped off his gloves and threw them to the side. He blindly reached out towards Jason and ended up grabbing Jason’s arm. Dick immediately started rubbing his hand against the leather, buttons, and zippers on the jacket. He focused on the rough texture of the leather, the hard metal of the buttons, and the biting teeth of the zippers.

“My name is Dick Grayson. I’m with my brother on a mission in Maine. I can see the sky. I can smell the fresh air. I can hear the birds chirping and the bugs buzzing. I can feel my brother’s jacket. I’m not in a coffin. I’m not underground. My mind is my greatest weapon.”

Dick had no idea how many times he repeated his mantra before the anxiety that was threatening to choke him slowly eased up. He stumbled towards the opening of the hole and greedily sucked in large amounts of air, making sure to focus on the trees swaying in the breeze against the bright blue sky.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he felt himself become grounded back to his current reality. The panic began to fade. His chest didn’t feel like it was about to give out on him anymore, and his shaking shifted to a slight tremor. He did one more controlled breathing exercise just to be on the safe side.

He could do this. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

Fuck, he did not expect that. Fuck his brain for doing that to him at a time like this. Christ, seriously.

There was no time to reflect on it right now. He needed to take care of his brother. With more reluctance than he'd like to admit, he slowly dragged his feet back to where Jason was lying on the ground.

Dick gently raised Jason up by his shoulders and situated him against the rock wall. He eyed Jason’s location in the middle of the hole, and on second thought, he moved Jason closer towards the opening where he’d be able to see the sky in case he woke up suddenly.

Dick wasn’t the only one in his family that was triggered by dirt.

He felt more in control of himself as he worked on taking Jason’s helmet, jacket, and gloves off, worried that Jason would overheat in them. If he spent a little extra time rubbing the varnish on the helmet, or feeling the texture of the gloves, well, that was neither here nor there. He finished by placing the items next to Jason’s side where they could air out a little.

Jason’s hair was damp and his face was covered in dried sweat tracks. Dick knew his face was probably in a similar state. Sighing, he grabbed Jason’s wrist and checked his pulse. A minute passed. Dick set Jason’s arm back on the ground, content that his BPM fell in the normal range. He placed the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead and his cheeks, checking to make sure that Jason wasn’t in danger of heatstroke. To his relief, Jason seemed to be in as good a state as Dick was, which was one less thing to worry about.

He just wished he knew exactly what had been in the tranq so he would have a general idea of what he was dealing with in case Jason started having any weird side effects from it. It was most likely an anesthetic that lacked neuromuscular blocking agents. Jason wouldn’t have been able to breathe by himself if NBA’s were present, and as far as Dick could tell, Jason’s breathing was fine.

Knowing Jason was okay made some of the anxiety in Dick’s gut disappear. That taken care of, Dick carefully moved to the entrance of the hole and looked out into the forest. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual. Just trees, trees, and oh yeah, more trees. Nothing to be alarmed about.

What Dick really wanted to do was do a brief sweep around the perimeter to check for anything in the distance. It would be too risky to reveal himself in the daylight. But now that he was thinking about it, would the androids even react if they only saw him and not Jason? The fight proved that they didn’t consider Dick a threat, and they’d made no move to attack him. Would they simply walk past him just like they’d done thirty minutes earlier?

Dick had to take into account that whoever was responsible for the androids was probably now aware of his existence.

During the fight, he’d noticed that the androids had white crystals implanted on the back of their heads. He’d spotted the crystals while frying the androids with his escrima sticks, and what he’d found out was that the crystals emitted heat and an aura of magic.

The magicked androids were more resilient and adaptable than regular androids. Dick assumed the magic would also make it way easier to reprogram the androids on a whim, meaning the maker could have easily included Dick into the list of faces the androids could recognize. Knowing that was a possibility made Dick hesitant to put his theory to the test.

Feeling tired from the heat, he returned to his spot across from Jason, stretching his legs out as much as he could in the small space. The shade from the rocks made him feel a little bit cooler. He’d kill for AC and a cold glass of water right about then.

That shit would have to wait because Dick needed a plan. He looked at Jason’s slack face and frowned. Taking Jason’s current state into account, Dick ran a few different scenarios through his head. While he thought, he brought up his wrist computer on his glove and tracked Artemis’s location. As far as Dick was aware, she’d retreated in the direction of their hidden plane. His tracking device said differently. Artemis was actually somewhere closer to the building that Bizarro was trapped in.

Dick was worried she would try to save Bizarro without any backup. He didn’t want her to get captured as well. Jason had been pretty adamant that the guy holding Bizarro prisoner wasn’t a magic user himself, which made Dick feel slightly better. The last thing they needed was a magicked Superman clone and a magicked Bana Amazon.

Dick checked his and Jason’s own location on the GPS and calculated what steps he would need to take. The plane was parked three miles East from their current location. The building holding Bizarro was two miles from the plane.

Dick and Jason could easily cover that kind of ground in an hour under normal circumstances. In their current situation, it would take Dick much longer to navigate through the forest with Jason on his back. Carrying Jason for that long in this kind of heat ran the risk of depleting Dick’s energy to the point where he’d be no use in a fight.

What Dick really needed was for Jason to wake up. Without the NBA in the anesthetic, the effects of the drug shouldn’t last as long. It had already been a little over half an hour since Jason had been dosed, and since he wasn’t being fed multiple doses of anesthesia, he would probably be pretty close to being conscious.

Only one way to find out.

“Hey.” Dick got on his knees and leaned towards his brother, gently tapping his hand against Jason’s cheek. “Hood. Jay lad. Annoying pain in my ass. Hey. Hey. You awake?”

Jason carried on sleeping like a log, not having moved a muscle. Dick sat back on his haunches and sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes in frustration. He was clearly going to need another plan.

But first, he took another look outside the hole to make sure they were still in the clear. Blue eyes scanned the tree line and found nothing unusual or out of place. Just the same old forest.

Despite the distinct lack of androids, Dick was beginning to feel restless. He’d already wasted enough time hiding here. No doubt the androids were minutes away from their location unless their maker had called them back at some point. And if Dick couldn’t run from them, maybe he could trap them?

There wasn’t much for him to work with in terms of supplies and weapons. If he’d been given the whole day, he could’ve set up some booby traps. If he’d gotten the chance to return to the plane, he could’ve grabbed some useful explosives or tech.

There was no time for that now. All he had was his escrima sticks, wingdings, grapple gun, and some smoke pellets. What else was around here that could be useful to him? He thought back to the research he had done on this environment before the mission. He had a general idea of where the trees thinned out the most and where the closest houses were. But he needed something a little more useful. Something that could help him blow up a bunch of metal. Something like…

“The river!” Dick said excitedly.

“Ngh…”

Dick’s head shot up so fast, he nearly smacked his head into the rock. He barely noticed, eyes now locked on the slight fluttering of Jason’s eyelashes. It was another minute before Jason’s eyes slowly blinked open, revealing blue eyes that were glazed over. He let out a sleepy exhale through his nose.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, kiddo,” Dick said while tweaking Jason’s nose.

If Jason was more coherent, Dick knew he would’ve gotten his finger bitten off for that. As it was, Jason could barely do anything more than blink in confusion. Dick could already tell by the way Jason’s eyes were drooping that Jason was simply too groggy to speak.

“You’re going to fall back asleep on me, aren’t you?”

Jason scrunched his face up as if annoyed that he had to listen to Dick’s voice. Seconds later, he was out like a light, just as Dick predicted.

That was the exact moment when the birds went silent and the clanking of metal thundered in the distance.

#Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #my fic #err warning for PTSD i guess?

[citrinekay]

a prompt: holden's thinking of running a marathon or something, and it gets bill thinking about just how young holden is and some insecurities appear. what's their future like? wouldn't holden be better off with someone who could actually match his rhythm? sorry im just a sucker for some age gap h/c!

Hey don’t apologize! I live to serve and create the content this fandom wants and deserves - it also helps that this turned out really cute and sweet and I like it very very much. Thanks for the prompt! 💕

Golden pink sunset stretches across the sky, making the red rubber of the track glow a burnt orange, the grass a glistening, knife-edged green. The summer heat has slacked off into a comfortable warmth that’s accompanied by the slight breeze that cools that faint sweat on Bill’s brow. 

He glances down at the stopwatch as Holden emerges from the glowing haze of sunlight, running at a steady clip around the final curve of the track before he reaches the starting point again. Dressed in track shorts and a gray Academy sweatshirt, he’s sweating harder in the July heat than Bill’s stationary position could ever hope to achieve. 

Bill squints against the sunlight, once again baffled by how much Holden enjoys this activity. Wendy had first suggested some type of exercise to him to help deal with his anxiety, and Holden had taken to the task like a fish to water. For the first few months, he would come out where to the Academy track to run for his own enjoyment, but now that he considers himself an accomplished runner, he’s taken to training for a marathon at the end of the month. The preparation is taking up a lot of time, much more than Bill had expected; and his only recourse to steal as much private time with Holden as possible is to park his ass here beside the track with the stopwatch. 

As Holden drops down out of his run into a jog, and finally to a staggered halt, Bill jabs the timer on the stopwatch. 

“How long as was that?” Holden asks, his voice hoarse and fractured. 

“Seven minutes, twenty-five seconds.”

“Shit.” Holden whispers, leaning forward to clutch his knees. 

“You’re unsatisfied with running a mile in seven minutes?” Bill asks, incredulously. 

“And twenty-five seconds.” 

“I thought a marathon was about endurance not speed.” 

“It is. It’s a personal goal.”

Bill leans over to grab the water bottle from the grass, and tosses it to Holden. 

Catching it against his chest, Holden straightens and takes a stumbled step backwards as he lifts the bottle to his mouth. 

Bill watches him quietly, half-appreciating the sweat drenched ringlets plastered to his forehead and the way his throat glistens in the fading sunlight. 

“Well, I know one thing for sure. You’d leave me in the dust.” Bill says.

Holden drags the bottle away from his mouth, leaving his lips slickly pink. He swipes a hand across his dribbling chin, and saunters closer to where Bill is seated on the folding chair in the grass. 

“You could join me, you know.” He says. 

“Running?”

“Yeah. Anyone can do it.”

“What? So I can get out there and humiliate myself? It wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Well, no one starts out an expert.” 

“Holden, we practically live together.” Bill says, gesturing to himself. “You are fully aware of what I can and cannot do.”

Holden rolls his eyes. “Oh, Christ. Is this about the other night when I wanted round two and you weren’t up for it?”

Bill scowls, “Okay, you didn’t have to drag that into it.”

“You were about to.” 

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Fine.” Holden says, capping the water bottle, and tossing it in the grass. “I’m going to do one more lap around the track to cool off and then we can go.”

“You want me to time that, too?”

Holden casts him a snide glance before spinning around and taking off toward the track again at a steady jog. 

Bill frowns watching him sprint into the melted glow of the sunset, his body shimmering like some moving work of art beneath the colors of the sky. It’s easy to forget that he’s going to be thirty-two in a few months, technically middle-aged, when he’s so virile and energetic. It’s like he has a bottomless well of initiative and drive, and his body … Well, Bill has been witness to all of the things his beautiful, toned, young body can do and endure. Running a seven minute mile is just the tip of the iceberg. 

Bill tries to set aside his insecurities as Holden circles the far end of the track and starts back towards the finishing line. He isn’t self-absorbed. He cares about his appearance insofar as it pertains to personal hygiene and professionalism. His current job doesn’t require extreme physical feats like running a seven minute mile or even running at all so why should it matter? Holden has his own personal goals and hobbies that he doesn’t necessarily have to share. It shouldn’t matter, but he knows why it does. 

When Holden comes off the track again, Bill hands him the towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah.” 

Bill gathers their things, and leads them across the yard, through the student parking, and all the way back to their lot in front of the BSU building. The walk is long and silent, some disagreement rippling underneath that he doesn’t feel like addressing. Once they reach the car, Bill rolls down the windows, turns on the stereo, and lights a cigarette. Holden leans toward the breeze, the sweet tang of perspiration blustering in the air alongside the summer breeze. Bill figures they’ll both just let it go, but ten minutes into the drive, Holden turns back to Bill. 

“Is something the matter with you?” 

“What? No.”

Holden’s hands fidget in his lap. “I can tell when you’re pissed. Why don’t you just say it?”

“Holden, I’m beat. It’s almost eight and we’re just now going home after working for ten hours and-”

“Oh, is that why? Because I’m forcing you to stay out late?”

“You’re not forcing me.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to come. I can work a stopwatch on my own.”

“Yeah? Then what do you need me for?”

The hasty retort slashes coldly through the humid air, leaving them both simmering in choked silence for a long moment. Bill flicks cigarette ashes out the window, annoyed with himself. There’s no basis for this argument, but they’re having it anyway. 

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is.” Holden mutters, “Are you just mad that I have an interest that doesn’t involve you?”

“No, of course not. You’re allowed to have your own hobbies-”

“Oh, you’re allowing me to have this hobby. How generous of you.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

They fall into silence again, but Bill can sense the electric hum of anger and the threat of hurt feelings arising. 

Just fucking apologize. He tells himself, trying to tamp down the bubbling insecurities that seem to multiply with every exchange. But his jaw stays stubbornly clamped shut. 

The next ten minutes pass in stifled silence until they reach Bill’s house. Holden’s car is parked in the driveway where he had left it over the weekend when a sleepover turned into a five-night affair. Bill figures that little foray is about to end right here. 

He throws the car into park, but lets the engine idle as they sit quietly, stewing. 

“Okay.” Holden says, finally. “I’m sorry I brought up the other night - the round two thing. That was uncalled for.”

“It isn’t that.”

“Really?” Holden asks, his gaze swinging across the car to strike Bill with withering severity. 

Bill takes a slow drag of his cigarette and focuses on the yard darkening in the impending dusk. 

“Bill, I have never had an issue with your age and my age, and-”

“Please, just stop.” Bill says, holding up a hand. The humiliation is already curling up his chest in fiery fingers, clutching at the back of his throat with debilitating force. The fact that he can’t suppress it is just as bad as the initial flinch of insecurity. 

“Fine. You don’t want to talk to me?” Holden says, impatiently. He unlatches the door and shoves it open with his shoulder. “I think I’m just gonna go home, and you can call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

Bill flinches as the door slams shut behind him, jarring the entire vehicle. He watches with a sickening feeling dropping to the pit of his stomach as Holden storms around the hood of the car towards his own vehicle. 

Get out and stop him, you stupid fucking idiot. 

Growling a sound of frustration, Bill rips off his seatbelt, and climbs out of the car just as Holden reaches the hood of his Nova. 

“Wait.” 

Holden’s determined pace cuts to a halt. They stare at one another in the falling dusk, a quiet standoff that Bill knows Holden won’t be breaking; he’s waiting for Bill to speak and be honest. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Bill puts his head down, and closes the space between them in a few strides. Holden turns slowly to face him, not resisting as Bill catches him by the hand. 

“I’m sorry.” Bill says, quietly. 

Holden nods. Still waiting. 

“Come on.” Bill says, scoffing against the clutch of emotion in the back of his throat. “Don’t tell me you never think about it.”

“I mean, yes. Objectively, I’ve thought about it because it’s a basic, indisputable fact.” Holden says, “I said I don’t have an issue with it.”

“Look, these past few months have been great.” Bill says, “But I think it would be a little selfish of me to not encourage you to think about your future. What do the next ten years look like? Don’t you want someone who can keep up with you? And are you going to be happy with this decision when our age difference really does start catching up with us?”

Holden’s brow furrows. “That’s a little pessimistic, don’t you think?”

“I’m just trying to be honest.”

Holden glances away for a moment, his eyes squinting against the fading light. Bill can tell that he’s seriously considering the conversation, and that acknowledgement alone eases some of the tightness in his chest. 

“You want honesty?” Holden says, his voice softening as he shifts his gaze gently back to Bill’s. 

“Yeah. Always.”

“Fine. Then this is the truth - I don’t care about our age difference, or round two. Some days I don’t even care about round one. That’s not what this is about, and it’s a little reductive to say that it is.”

Bill lets out a sigh and glances away, but Holden presses closer, cradling Bill’s chin in his hand to guide his eyes back up. 

“I know what the next ten years look like.” Holden murmurs, “Maybe not exactly, but I do know one thing - you’re here, with me. Whether you are running down a track with me or I’m pushing you a fucking wheelchair.”

Bill chokes on an unbidden laugh as Holden’s mouth stretches into a fond smile. He wraps both arms around Holden’s waist, suddenly not caring whether someone driving down the street could see the intimate embrace. He just wants to make this moment last - the moment when Holden melted the last of his fears and insecurities.

“Okay?” Holden whispers, clutching his cheek tighter. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

Bill nods, trying to find a reply in the tangled knot of relief and joy in the back of his throat. 

Holden kisses him quickly on the mouth, a swift, reassuring gesture that the whole street might have seen, before he wraps his arms around Bill’s neck. 

Bill buries his face in Holden’s neck, impressing the warmth of his body and his embrace down into his quivering soul. When he draws in a deep breath, he can smell summertime and sweat on his skin. 

Clearing his throat, Bill draws back. “Do you, uh … do you want to get a shower first, before you leave?”

Holden chuckles softly. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Okay, let’s go in. It’s really warm out here.” Bill says, wiping sweat from his own temple. 

Holden clutches his hand as they climb the steps to the front porch. As they reach the door, he whispers, “Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t really want to leave.” 

Bill purses back a smile. “No?”

“No. Can I spend the night again… and possibly use your washer and dryer for my work clothes?”

“Of course.” 

They share a quiet smile before Bill unlocks the door and lets them inside. Holden’s fingers curl tighter around his hand, drawing Bill down the hallway towards the bathroom without another word. They move quietly, deftly through the house, muted anticipation rising. The sun has already set, golden light touching the door for the last time tonight. 

#bill x holden #mindhunter #my writing #Anonymous

[benbarnesfrustration]

The End Justifies the Means

**A Logan Delos x Reader one-shot**

Summary: Logan and reader explore a section of The Raj, an Indian-themed park.

Rated: M/Explicit for smut and language. Smutty smut smut. 18+ only.

AN: I actually adapted this from an old story I wrote for a previous muse. I thought it would suit Logan nicely. Enjoy!

**gif by @benbarnestongue**

Holy hell, were all the bugs the size of airplanes in this place?

Another insect buzzed in your ear, and you swatted it away in irritation.  “Fuck,” you panted. “I swear, if another bug tries to eat my face, I’m going to scream.”  

You could hear Logan chuckle even though he was several paces ahead of you.  “This is called ‘broadening one’s horizons darlin.”  He paused and looked back at you; his dark hair only just beginning to wilt around the edges from the sweat that was beginning to appear at his hairline and neck.  “And I thought you were the adventurous type.”  He flashed you one of his trademarked adorable grins, and you scowled.

“I’m all for adventure, but this…is…ridiculous…”  you swatted another bug.  It seemed the more you perspired, the more insects swarmed you.  “How much longer is it?”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Logan called back to you. “Well.  It won’t be much farther, and this little hike came very highly recommended. Quit complaining,” he added, laughing.

You sighed, and steeled yourself.  Yes, you were a city girl, born and raised in New York.  That didn’t mean you were completely oblivious to the great outdoors, of which you loved and were well acquainted.  You had been on plenty of hiking and camping trips.  But this was The Raj; a theme park modeled after Imperial India.  It was an entirely different ballgame. First of all; the heat was insane.  It wasn’t so bad when you were lounging under patio umbrellas sipping exotic drinks.  But out here in the jungle, with the humidity slowly evaporating your energy, and those god forsaken insects trying to suck your blood…

“Logan,” you called out, trying to diminish the irritation in your voice.  He was, after all, clearly having the time of his life.  As uncomfortable as you were, you didn’t want to ruin that for him.  He paused again, and looked back at you.  “Can I have a swig from that canteen of yours?”  He smiled and backtracked the short distance to where you were standing.  You had a small moment to reflect on how out of balance you were just then; he with the backpack and the air of the adventurer, and your sorry self with the ridiculous banana wrapped around the top of your head to help keep the sweat and insects at bay; flushed and sweating buckets.  He was from the real world just like you were; so how did he do it? How did he blend with the parks so easily?

“Ah, thank you,” you smiled at him gratefully, as you gulped the cool water. You fixed him with a playful glare.  “This better be worth it, mister.”

He smirked at you.  “I think you’ll be pleased.” He turned and started to walk again, calling over his shoulder, “we’ll be there before too long. Hurry up!”

You bit off a few internal expletives, and soldiered on.  You were on a small trail on what could easily be described as pure jungle, about a two miles from your hotel.  You took this trip because you had so desperately needed time away. Both of you had been run completely ragged with work.  You had agreed to clear two weeks just for you, and here you were.  A romantic getaway in The Raj; sipping rum drinks and getting massages and fucking on 800 thread count sheets.  So why were you huffing and puffing through the jungle?  Well, Logan was excited about it, so you agreed. After all, who could refuse Logan when he was excited about something?

You walked and gave it your best effort; doing your best not to trip over any roots.  After about another twenty minutes, just when you were about to ask for some more water, Logan stopped abruptly, holding up his hand to signal for you to do the same.  He trotted forward a few paces as if to check on something, and then quickly doubled back to you, smiling.

“It’s just up ahead,” he grinned, taking your hand.  The two of you walked a short distance and around a small bend in the trail.  When you rounded the corner, you were completely gobsmacked by the sight before you.  You gasped as the visage revealed itself.

Before you stood the most beautiful waterfall you had ever seen.  It wasn’t particularly large, but what made it so breathtaking was the intimacy of the place.  The waterfall fell perhaps fifty feet at most, but was surrounded by vines, rocks, and incredibly lovely flowers.  The pool at its base was a nearly perfect basin, and everything about it was lush, vibrant, and yours. The place was quite literally, all yours.  For the entire two plus miles you had walked, you didn’t see another person.  

You felt Logan’s arm around you and looked up at him.  He was positively glowing with pride, looking down at you.  “Do you like it?”

“Oh Logan,” you said.  “Logan, I just– I’m sorry I whined so much on the way over.  This was worth it…this is amazing.”  

He grinned, and wrapped his arms around you.  “I wanted to take you someplace really special.  Not a restaurant or anything; someplace really amazing.  So I asked the best guy I could think of– the bartender at the hotel.”

You laughed.  “Well of course they would know all the best places.”

He laughed with you.  “Well, apparently, yes!  Not only that, but he assured me that nobody would bother us if we came back here today.  So…here we are.”  

You looked back at the incredible vista before you, then back up to his handsome face.  “You did well, babe. I feel like an ass for complaining so much on the way here.”  

He stepped back a few paces, unshouldering his pack.  He let it fall to the ground with a soft thump. His dark eyes gleamed as he looked at you.  “I figured you wouldn’t like the means, “he smirked at you, “but had counted on the ending to make it all worthwhile.”

Your heartbeat sped up just a little.  “Whatever do you mean, Logan?” you smirked playfully back at him.

He stepped toward you, wrapping his arms around you again.  “But darlin, doesn’t the end always justify the means?”  

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard.  You grabbed the back of his head and answered his kiss, pressing your lips into his forcefully.  You opened your mouths to each other, and your tongues danced and probed, gaining passion.  

Before the moment could get any more heated, he broke off, suddenly.  

“Not yet.  Let’s refresh ourselves.  Feel like getting wet?”  He cocked his right eyebrow at you questioningly.  You smiled, all the blood rushing to your extremities.  

“Well, as it happens, I am awfully hot…”  you smiled knowingly at him.  You stepped back and pulled your top over your head in one quick motion.  Logan watched, drinking you in.  He ran his tongue along his lips briefly, and stepped to you, grabbing the waistband of your shorts.  You stepped back, smiling impishly.

“Uh uh, you first.”  You pointed at his chest.  He smiled resignedly and pulled his shirt over his head much in the same way you did.  You took a moment to appreciate his chiseled form before he resumed his previous ministrations.  “Now. my turn,” he said hungrily.

He quickly unbuttoned your shorts and unzipped the fly before pushing them down a little roughly.  You stepped out of them, revealing nothing but black panties which matched your bra.  He reached around you and unhooked your bra with ease.  Again, he paused to survey you.  He reached one hand up to cup a breast, and kneaded it softly before you stepped back and, more breathlessly this time, said, “nope, you still have too many clothes on.”

He chuckled devilishly and allowed you to unbutton and unzip his pants.  Down they went, and he was left in nothing more than dark blue boxer briefs.  You took a moment to appreciate his incredibly beautiful form.  He was tall and chiseled like a dark angel, with his intense eyes and almost black hair.  You could see the shape of his impressive manhood straining through the relatively thin material of his briefs.  Never, ever would you tire of looking at him. And here he was, with you, looking at you the same way.

Fueled by your happiness and desire, you pulled off your panties in one quick motion, and turned toward the waterfall’s pool.  “Come on, catch me,” you panted, as you ran toward the edge and dove into the pool.  You had only just surfaced when you heard the answering splash.  You swam toward the waterfall, grabbing onto a small rock just near the point where the falls connected with the pool.  You turned. gasping, laughing, and saw him pop out of the water just in front of you.  You laughed again and grabbed his head, and his arms grabbed your waist from under the water.  You both laughed as you grasped each other; completely invigorated by the cool water.

He kissed you again.  You never thought that you could ever kiss more passionately than you ever had, because you had definitely had your moments.  But this time, maybe– just maybe, you had outdone the others.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted yourself out of the water to give yourself better leverage, and deeply, passionately, you poured all the love you felt for him into that kiss.  His tongue probed your lips, and your mouth opened to his.  You explored his mouth with your tongue, as his hand gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.  You enjoyed this passionate exchange for several moments, before he broke away, and suddenly grabbed you, lifting you from the water.

He moved to the edge and set you on the little rock that you had swam to; the one near the spot where the falls met the pool.  As he stood, he was able to rise out of the water in front of you.  You looked at him, gasping.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, as he spread your legs apart and began to tease at your entrance with his fingers.  “Tell me.”

“Oh my god Logan…”  You gasped. “I want you. I want you inside of me. Please.”

“Tell me more,” he growled, and he slipped a finger inside you.  You were so wet.

“Logan…I love it when you make me come…” you moaned.

He inserted another finger, and probed your depths whilst rubbing your clit with his thumb.  His mouth was on yours again, and he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking, biting.  He hooked his fingers, hitting your inner g-spot, and you cried out.  “Logan, please…”

Your back was arched and your head thrown back in ecstasy, so you were not entirely prepared when you felt his mouth on you, replacing his thumb on your clit with his tongue.  You cried out again, as he sucked and licked, all while he inserted another finger, driving you into a frenzy.  You grabbed fistfulls of his hair and screamed as he brought you to a mind-blowing climax; wave after wave hitting you, making your body shiver.

After you subsided, he lifted his head and winked at you.  “It’s a good thing we have this place all to ourselves.  Did I ever tell you how loud you are?”

“It’s your fault,” you panted, lying back along the rock wall, the spray of the waterfall enveloping you.  He chuckled. You fixed him with a look.  “Now now, we’re not finished yet, are we?”

You slid off the rock and pushed him, turning him so that he was against the rocks where you had just been. His cock was standing just above the waterline, at full attention.

“Allow me,” you said, and you bent to the task.  He let out a small, “ Mmm,” as you put your lips on the head of his cock.  You put your other hand at the base of his impressive shaft, massaging up and down as you sucked.  You took his length the best you could; the head bumping the back of your throat before you drew it out again.  He moaned as you pulled and sucked, increasing your pace until he was gasping for breath.  “Oh my god,” he panted, and you felt his balls twitch as his climax neared.  Suddenly, you withdrew, and with an impish look, quickly turned and swam off, leaving him standing there in hip deep water; chest heaving.

“Where…where you…” was all he could manage between pants, and you looked back at him, grinning mischievously.  “Did you think this game was over?  Catch me!”  You giggled and submerged, swimming toward the other side of the pool.  You came up at the other side, in a place that was covered with vines and other vegetation.  You were beginning to contemplate whether you should get out of the water when Logan was on you, half-laughing and half-growling.  

“Got you, you fuckin tease,” he laughed, as he lifted you out onto the edge of the pool.  He stood up, matching your height.  His eyes glittered as he pushed you back and spread your legs, exposing you.  You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he gripped the head of his dick and positioned it at your entrance, which was swollen with arousal.  Once properly placed, he put his hands on the rocks on either side of you, and pushed his full length into you.  You both gasped as his cock filled you, stretching you, and he withdrew almost completely before shoving himself back in.  You forced your head up to look at him as he began thrusting steadily, and his eyes lifted to meet yours.  You locked eyes as he pumped; fucking you, rocking your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy.  “Logan, oh god! Yes!”  Your hips bucked as he slammed you, your skin slapping audibly at the contact.  You raked your nails down his back as he pounded into you, and you felt your climax building.  “Don’t stop!” You cried, and he thrust again and again and again, your orgasm arriving full-force, blackening your vision. Waves of pleasure overcame you, and he moaned, “Oh babe, I’m gonna….oh god” He tensed up as his own climax hit him, and he spurted his seed into your depths.

He lay on top of you, limbs completely spent.  You panted together, and you twined your fingers in his hair.  After a short while, you sat up, and cradled his head against your breast, stroking his face.

“My god woman” he breathed, and lifted his head to meet your eyes.  “You’re amazing.”  He chuckled softly. “Didn’t I tell you the end would justify the means?”

#logan delos x reader #westworld fanfiction #logan fic #ben barnes character #smut

[aba-ridemerenji]

Hello! I’ve been dreaming of a HC of Kisuke surprising his SO and eating her out until she screams down a part of his shop, and then mad sex happens in the underground training ground! Has that happened? Can you make it happen? Thanks!

Can I?

Ok so this sort of grew into a full-fledged fic, and got so long I had to split it into parts – will update the link when I get part 2 up! This is a sequel to a previous ask for NSFW kisuke headcanons (here), and is basically just a bunch of oral. Just. A lot of oral. If you’re looking for penetrative action, there’s some fingering, but otherwise, the frick fracking comes in part 2 (which is on the way, and I’ll post it as the a chapter after this one on AO3).  Also, the mad sex in part 2 is going to be a little...unorthodox. So. I’m a walking talking garbage bag and that’s that on that! Cut for length.

Double Vision | Part 1 

Urahara Kisuke x Reader

Miles.

Miles and miles of pale, beautiful skin to enjoy.

You kicked at the pebbles littering your path back to Urahara’s shop. Thoughts of last night. A delirious smile now on your sweaty face, and not even the heat of the humid July afternoon could beat it down.

In the hazy light of your memories, you could spend a little longer admiring the expanse of Kisuke’s sculpted, lean torso. But you from last night wasn’t interested in indulging in the same luxury. Oh no, that version of you honed right in to your target.

Your attention was fully on his pyjama bottoms, touching him through the cloth, testing his reaction. Sleeping beauty remained asleep. A slow smile spread across your face as you took your prize. You shifted your body lower on the futon carefully until you were level with Kisuke’s crotch, pulling the elastic waist of his pants down to reveal your target. He was limp, soft. But that would be changing very soon.

After the first few licks, he began to stir. By the time you had gotten him fully hard, he was just this side of asleep. Not quite awake, Kisuke made a sound somewhere between a breathy moan and a gasp. You liked that. Gripping his shaft even harder, not quite caring if he woke up now, you licked with renewed vigour. He peeked down at you with one eye, still hazy with sleep.

“Make that sound again.” You challenged, but gently, not wanting to tear the delicate sheen of vulnerability that had settled over the moment.

His cheeks were stained a pretty pink. Looked like he wasn’t as knocked out as you thought. But the veil of sleep was too heavy for him to formulate any sort of snarky reply, and your tongue just felt too good.

“Come on, Princess.” You called Kisuke by his favourite nickname for you – your voice seeming to take on that oddly cold laugh of his. Truth be told, he knew how lucky it was that you had a healthy sense of humour. His many eccentric experiments and incredibly annoying habits would have severely tested a less tolerant (and less easily amused) woman. In this moment, however, he wasn’t very happy with your teasing nature.

Silence. Hmm.

Let’s see how long he can hold out, shall we? You immediately let go of his leaking cock, and Kisuke made a strangled sound.

“I can’t do it on command!” He whined.

“Then I guess I’ll go back to sleep…” you looked to the side with an exaggerated pout.

“Okay!”

Relenting, you gave his cock a long lick from base to tip, and were about to take the head in your mouth when you looked up to see your normally very talkative boyfriend with his fist in his mouth. That wouldn’t do.

A split second was all it took for him to register your stillness. He looked down.

“Kisuke…” He heard the warning in your sing-song, and lowered his fist slowly, shakily.

Oh, you were enjoying this. So this was how it felt to be the insufferably smug, ‘humble shopkeeper’. You took his cock head in your mouth and he inhaled sharply. But beyond that, silence. Again you checked to make sure he was following your implicit order. He wasn’t biting down on his fist again, but his lips were sealed shut in a tight line. Fine. Kisuke sighed at the second loss of contact.

“You know what to do.” Kisuke didn’t want to look down, didn’t want to dignify your nonchalance with the desperate expression he was wearing. You could see his adam’s apple bob with his gulp.

“P-please.” Your eyebrows shot up. It was quiet but earnest, and enough for you. Begging, another first. You’d take it. And you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

“Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you, Princess?” You resumed sucking his dick, letting him tangle his hands in your hair, knowing there was no way he’d be tugging on it to get back at you. When Kisuke was this far gone, he would do anything to reach his peak.

You were still daydreaming of his blushing, sweating face from last night as you reached your destination and stepped into the relatively  cool shade of the shop.

“Oh Princess! I’m home!” you call out playfully, hoping that the others were around to hear you tease, or better yet, see his expression at the newly-assigned nickname. You were planning to milk his embarrassment for a good week, at least. You leaned against the door frame, fanning yourself, your head swimming from the heat and giddy with the memory of victory.

“Princes-” you were cut off by the feeling of cool hands wrapping around your arms, moving up and down gently.

“That’s my line, Princess.”

Ah, so we’re back to snarky then.

You let him press his body against your back, leaning your head to the side to expose your neck, pulling your top downwards to slip across your shoulders.

“But Kisuke, the children…” You laid the sarcasm on thick in between pleased hums and soft giggles. Your infuriatingly good mood was not going anywhere. Somehow, in the middle of lunch, everyone was mysteriously absent. Kisuke was good with coincidences like that.

“You don’t seem worried.” Was that disappointment in his voice? His closed-mouth kisses on your neck turned into little nips. You were about to shrug nonchalantly, when he spun you around, and walked you backwards deeper into the shop. A woosh from the screen door before it slammed shut, and your eyes tried to adjust to the sudden dimness. Lowering your back onto the raised platform, he dragged you by the thighs until your ass was just at the edge, flush against his hips.

“Wha-what are you-” Now you were beginning to worry. Kisuke grinned, leaning over your body to kiss you while a hand snuck under your skirt.

“Kisuke!” you hissed.

“Anyone could walk in?” He saw right through you, too excited to care. His finger had slipped past your underwear and dipped into your folds to find you soaked. Dammit. That’s what you got for fantasising about him all the way home.

“Were you thinking about me?” He read your mind.

“Actually, I was. Princess.” His fingers were extremely distracting, so you tried to wrestle him for some piece of control, reminding him of his undone state the night before. Kisuke smiled, but pushed two fingers into you without warning. Your gasp turned into a groan as he began to move his fingers. He curled them, pulling at your insides with every movement. Then they stilled.

“Still want to stop?”

The look of pure murder you shot him made Kisuke chuckle. “Good.”

You had hoped that he would just push your skirt up and push your panties to the side, so you could quickly push down your skirt in case of any interruptions. Apparently, he had other plans. Kisuke hooked his fingers in the waistband of both your skirt and underwear, pulling both down your thighs in one movement.

“Kisuke!” your voice came out as an urgent whisper. Now you really couldn’t afford to attract any attention. The clothes were thrown to the side, your bottom half completely exposed. You could feel your arousal dripping down your asshole, cooling in the air. Hands on your thighs, he spread them and got to work between your legs.

The teasing licks were infuriating. You needed him to make you come, and fast. To touch your clit and suck on it until you saw stars. Maybe dip inside you with his tongue? No, you didn’t have the time. But it was your turn to be at his mercy.

Kisuke pressed a finger against your entrance, teasing you by rubbing but never pushing in, while his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue over the red bud. Finally. Your abdomen pulled inward, the dull feeling making you wish that he’d slip in a finger or two. You just needed something, something you could clench around. Oh, but to feel him sliding inside you, or to give yourself over to the steady climb of pleasure that his lips were dragging from you?

Your voice was still barely a whisper, more breath than speech. Kisuke’s finger had drifted away from your entrance, his palms now sliding up and down your spread lap. That didn’t mean you were wanting for sensation between your legs. You were distracted by the steady sucking on your clit, and every so often, Kisuke would lash his tongue across it, even as his lips kept a seal tight around your throbbing bud. And each time he did, your hips would buck upwards and your breath would catch, a little hiccup you tried to keep soft.

Getting there. You could feel the thrum in your gut telling you that you were rising, and fast – when Kisuke released your clit to lick at your inner lips. The returning swipes of his tongue across your clit interrupted your groan of frustration, but you’d already fallen off the path, your desire sinking deep beneath the surface.

As if to coax it back up, Kisuke was making sure to give your clit a good lap whenever he crossed from one side of your nether lips to the other. Each pass became more frequent, and you were climbing yet again. It felt like he’d been between your legs, lapping patiently, for an eternity. You opened your eyes. You didn’t realise that you’d been clenching them tight, and made the effort to relax your knitted brow. Deep breath. What was the time? Panic rose as you looked to the wall clock – if it was anywhere near two, Ururu would be back from school any time. It was a quarter to two. Shit. Shit, shit, shit how could you get so caught up like this? You had to-

“Ohhhh….”

Kisuke had stopped his alternating side-to-side licks, which in your worry, you didn’t realise – until he gave you a long lick from your cunt all the way to your clit, the flat of his tongue giving way to a stiff tip that probed at your clit. Another one. And another. Until you forgot your own name, say nothing about the time.

You felt a fingertip press against your entrance – you hoped to whatever god there was that Kisuke was finally going to just fingerblast you into oblivion. These games were starting to tire you out. But a part of you knew – these were exactly Kisuke’s favourite kind of games. But maybe, just maybe, you could move the gameplay along a bit? You never wanted to admit it to his face, but Kisuke had some very talented fingers (must be all the tinkering). Maybe if you let it on - just a little! - that his fingers had a positive effect on you… So you moaned, louder than you would have under the circumstances. Kisuke withdrew from your pussy entirely and lifted his head to look up at you. Got him.

“What was that, Princess?” His tongue darted out to prod at your entrance again, earning a little mewl from you.

“Is this what you want?” He did it again. Although you bit your lip, you shook your head. God, for the smartest man you’d ever known, he really could be dense sometimes.

“F-finger.” You brought a hand up to hide your mouth, and hoped that the coy damsel act wasn’t laying it on too thick.

“Oh?” Then Kisuke’s tongue was pushing into your pussy, the muscle pulsing and writhing, his head twisting this way and that as his mouth closed around you.

“Not this?”

Okay, no, not exactly. But now Kisuke’s tongue was dipping in and out, wriggling the surprisingly strong appendage, stroking your insides with the tip. And damn it, now your hands were tangled in your own hair, hips rolling. He moved his hands to settle high on your inner thighs, pushing them apart even further. He was finally, finally going to put you out of your misery.

Pressing down on your thighs, Kisuke licked his way up your clit, back down to your cunt, then back up again, before settling on the desensitised bud, alternating between flicking and sucking lightly to stoke the fires of your arousal. There it was, the first rays of the thick, syrupy pleasure beginning to spread. Your hand drifted down to Kisuke’s hair, weaving through it as you hummed, pleased that he was getting you back on track. He switched back to steady sucking, setting a pace that grew in speed, taking you with it. In seconds, your thighs were straining against his grip. Just a little more, baby. Just a little longer, if he could just keep going-

Your eyes flew open just as he stopped.

“That wasn’t it, was it?” he grinned up at you.

“What?” Was dumbstruck anger a thing?

“I just realised you meant that you wanted my fingers in you, silly me!” The way he leaned his face against the inside of your thigh with an irritating smile told you that he had definitely not just realised anything.

“Not this, right?” He gave you another sharp lick on the clit.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, narrow glare aimed straight at those infuriating eyes dancing with mischief behind those stupid bangs. You opened your mouth to say something acerbic when he nuzzled your thigh, the stubble on his chin brushing your pussy lips as he kissed the soft inside of your thigh. That was nice. That shut you up. Reluctantly. You flopped your upper body back on the platform, forearm thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” you sighed.

“Because I can do this,” he demonstrated by capturing your pussy in an open-mouthed kiss, wet and warm and hungry. You were back to bucking as Kisuke’s teeth caught on your clit lightly, before he focused all his efforts on sucking it.

“Oh, yes. Yes, that’s it,” you whined.

You hand was on his head again, this time as a guarantee that your orgasm wasn’t going anywhere. You ground your hips against his face for good measure. Kisuke’s arms were locked tightly around your thighs, ready for your inevitable spasming. With a fist full of sandy blonde hair, you rode his face all the way to the top, his hot mouth sending you toppling over the edge as you hissed his name in between gasping breaths. Your hips were still grinding against his face when you felt the arms encircling your thighs release. Legs finally relaxed against the wood floor, and you felt a great need to pull your top off your sweaty torso, kids be damned.

Kisuke pulled himself up, his hips settling between your sticky thighs, keeping them wide open as he kissed you thickly, letting you taste yourself. You brought a hand up to massage his jaw, your fingers fluttering across it, when you felt his slide between your bodies. He rubbed your sensitive clit a couple of times, causing you to moan into his mouth and grip his shirt in a tight ball, and then he was pressing a finger into you. Really? Now? He couldn’t have pulled that when you actually asked him to? No time to complain, those fingers seemed to say. Fingers, plural, because he’d put another one in, both curling and scissoring, stroking you deeper than his tongue could hope to reach.

There was a trick to coming so soon after an orgasm, and Kisuke knew it lay in keeping you here, in the present, not letting you drift off and succumb to the pleasant lull of endorphins flooding your system. A few rough thrusts did just that. Your mind snapped out of its haze and your chest was heaving again, panting from the sudden intrusion. He slowed his fingers, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his soft lips dragging up to nip at your earlobe.

“Do it again, Princess.” his thumb found your clit. “I want to feel you come around my fingers. This is what you wanted, remember?” Delivered right next to your ear, every syllable dripped with a strange mixture of lust and awe. Just the right combination of command and plea. You whimpered back, legs clamping around his hips. If your eyes were open, you would’ve seen Kisuke watching your face with fascination, how the creases in your forehead shifted with each twist of his wrist and each curl of his fingers. His fingers were moving faster now, pumping in and out of you, the heel of his palm bumping against your clit with each pass. The second time right after an orgasm was always lightning fast for you, and this was no different – his fingers had you speeding towards your orgasm and your back arched as you came, upper body lifting inward into a crunch. You clung to him, foreheads touching, his panting almost matching the speed of yours.

When your hands went limp and hit the floor, your body didn’t follow. You registered a hand in the middle of your back keeping you elevated, while another stirred inside you. Your eyelids were getting heavy. Kisuke pulled you up to a seated position with one hand, kneeling between your legs. You steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders, willing your mind to clear. Looked down between your thighs, you saw him pull his fingers out of you, your milky white release clinging on them in thick streaks. You followed the coated fingers as they moved up, up and up to his mouth. Kisuke’s tongue darted out to lick at one large glob of the substance and you just…stared. Glassy-eyed. As he polished the rest off his fingers. The siren call of post-orgasm sleep was back, and this time, you followed it right into Kisuke’s warm chest.

“Come on. I know what you need.”

He gathered you into his arms, taking care to bring your discarded skirt and underwear with him as he stepped into a hidden area near the back of the store, descending several levels beneath the earth.

“Don’t let me drown, ok,” you mumbled. Kisuke chuckled, surprised (but also not) that even in your thoroughly spent state, you still had enough wits about to figure out where he was taking you.

“Smart cookie.” he observed, as he walked across the sandy arena, heading for the welcoming warmth of the underground training area onsen.

#anonymous #asks #Urahara Kisuke #Kisuke Urahara #Bleach fanfiction #Bleach headcanons #Bleach #the secks #slight fluff #Anonymous

[electricbluebutterflies]

Ways to Say I Love You: Garcy - 97

Second part to “slow” aka the podcast AU. PG-ish and also on ao3.

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

Proof that God is dead and/or hell is real, as far as Lucy is concerned - the summer conference that is usually the highlight of her year, that she dreams about presenting at in ten years or so and that she uses as the closest thing she gets to a legitimate vacation, is in DC this year. The final week of July, in a city created out of a not-as-drained-as-they-thought swamp. She's gonna die.

Like, yes, she will be hiding in an air-conditioned hotel convention center as much as possible, but she will still have to go outside in the worst humidity in the country at a few points. Transportation reasons, because she didn't book a hotel room quickly enough and is thus stuck at a different hotel half a mile away, close enough that she objectively should walk. And if she decides to get food at any point, which is traditionally an if because she tends to get super distracted on this trip and not think about basic human needs. And if she decides to do any exploring, which she will because she's giving herself a few days to see what sights there are.

And if, maybe, she tries to get her love life in order. Maybe.

As soon as she's done having her freakout about triple-digit wet heat, which is objectively so much worse than northern California and she will not calm down about this for the four months until the event blows over, it occurs to her that it may be a convenient situation for other reasons. She does have connections out that way, she supposes is a delicate enough way of putting it, and there are much worse things she could do than suggest that maybe meeting up for drinks when they are conveniently and innocently in the same area might be fun. She thinks. She's not sure she can actually do this, but-

To her great surprise, that situation has blossomed into something she supposes might count as a friendship. She hasn't attempted to label it, but Flynn - he started signing his emails with his last name after she figured out who he was, and it fits a lot better than anything else she could call him - is no longer just a potential professional connection or the only sane person in the world who's taken an active interest in her side project. They talk about things that aren't her podcast topics now, via their respective personal emails, as timing and mood align. They're not quite at a point of talking traumas yet, but she hopes they'll get there within the next decade, and-

When's the conference?

He could easily look it up - she did say which one, it's not like she's being secretive or anything - but she appreciates his respectful distance. And then tells him, because obviously that is relevant information.

I was thinking we could get drinks or something, she adds, hoping that's not too forward or-

Or, if it's not too forward… I could pick you up at the airport? I know you're an extremely competent person, but you don't want to drive around here, and public transportation is confusing, and…

Lucy gives herself two days to think about it. She has time, she tells herself. There's no dramatic pressure.

Like, he's probably not wrong, she hates that kind of driving and public transportation is a no-go for her claustrophobia after a cross-country flight and she's still not over that one really weird Uber a couple months ago, and she has thrown herself out of a moving vehicle before - exactly once, she would like to point out, at the tail of a very bad date during undergrad - and there is no part of her that thinks this is a genuinely bad idea. It's just a lot to ask from someone she barely knows who has other responsibilities and probably doesn't even like her that much and-

Except she's not asking. He's volunteering. She has four months to accept the difference.

Sounds good. I'll send you my flight details when I know them.

Four months pass more quickly than they feel, and then all of a sudden it all happens.

Lucy hates a lot of things, she is learning in what she supposes counts as early middle age. Cross-country air travel is top-ten material, in the cheap seats between a couple who she suspects are going to call a divorce lawyer once they get wherever they're going. That mess killed any chance of sleeping on the flight, not that that was particularly likely to begin with, and she knows she's not going to be great company, and she's pretty sure she hates this airport, and if they fucked with her luggage she's gonna kill someone, and-

She is not sure what protocol is for approaching someone one has seen a grand total of four pictures of but who might just be one's closest friend by default, but she decides on running as fast as she can in these stupid strappy sandals that were not as practical as she'd thought when she bought them. Physical pain will complete the hot-mess, she decides. At least she's wearing a dress, and her hair isn't a total wreck (at least not however much of it has decided to stay in a ponytail), and oh god she hasn't been this nervous in years and-

"Lucy, right?"

They've been writing to each other for a year and she was not expecting that accent, but she decides she likes it.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you. Please tell me you're parked close."

"No such luck, but we can move as slowly as you need."

In person, Garcia Flynn is more than she expected. Impossibly tall and built like a tree, intimidating to passers-by but warm with her, mindful enough to ask without words before carrying her suitcase. She doesn't remember feeling this inherently safe around another person, and her crush is going to be impossible to ignore after this but she's not sure she minds. Conversation flows even more easily than she'd hoped, and by the time they finally reach his car - she is convinced he parked as far as possible while still being on airport property, not that she's going to say that out loud - she feels like she's known him so much longer.

"If it's not too forward… if you're not too tired, I'd like to take you out for dinner somewhere. You can say no if you want, but-"

Lucy cannot remember the last time she was this tired, but she also wants to spend as much time with this man as possible. "Dinner sounds good."

"Any preferences?"

"None at all. Surprise me."

#findwhatyourefightingfor #garcy #ebf writes fic

[mestrya]

Tales Of Mestrya Book I - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Krochus

Wake up in bed. Wash face and long green hair in wooden basin. Eat bowl of chik-li seeds. Walk out of hut, acknowledge beauty of the humid, rainy weather. Go across rickety bridge to join the rest of Trubbru Village, in all of it's treetop peace and pride. Give thanks to wooden statue of the village’s founder. Go to Eox’s class, learn about healing charms and offensive hexes for the thirty-somethingth time. Feel annoyed at not being a warlock yet. Collect vegetables, rainwater and ink from under the tree branches of the Trobb Forest. Go to beach, pretend to give a toss about fishing, while hoping ponkfish are being caught for dinner tonight. Eat lentils and seaweed stew for dinner, study magic, sleep. Repeat.

Wake, wash, eat, learn, chores, sleep, wake wash, eat and so on. This was 14-year-old Krochus’ life. It was mundane, secluded, isolated, repetitive and he loved every moment of it. He was safe, among respectable folk and his whole world was in the monsoon-filled Trobb Forest. His study of advanced magic was in Trubbru Academy; a small pseudo school packed into a squat, straw hut near the centre of the treetop village.

On one day of rainy heat, Krochus’ grades from the last semester were due. He was nervous, as to be expected, but not the usual kind. The kind of nervous that bore a line of imaginary ants marching from his stomach to the bones of his legs, all of them yelling “You’re in big trouble!”. His grades were very important to him, and to his desired future. While not insecure about his intellect, he was aware of its questionable quality, and worried about it holding him back. The best thing to do with the anxiety was to pace back and forth, and aggressively calculate every possible outcome of the revelation. He would think about the pure horrendous tragedy of receiving poor grades, and how the great god Rhaata’s shame of him would cause many horrors. He would then consider the other extreme, where he would receive the highest grade possible, a round of applause from his classmates, and a golden medal of honour, bestowed by the Head Governor of Halithos. There were no in betweens. Logically, to his 14-year-old mind, these were the definitive two outcomes. All he had to do, to know the answer was to walk across the bridge from his hut, and enter Trubbru Academy.

Krochus shook the long, green hair from his face and swept it back with his three-fingered hand as he entered. The Academy hut was a familiar place to him, but all the more daunting now. The knickknacks along the shelves were often a dullard’s delight; old bottles and lanterns filled with coloured dusts and resins, with the occasional severed animal paw or tooth. He often asked what various ones did, and almost always met the same answer: “nothing, just there for show”. Seemed a little silly to have things with no purpose, to Krochus. If they had no function, why not chuck them? Maybe this mindset was the reason why minutes later he was presented with a failing grade of his last semester from his teacher and Mysticist, Eox.

Feeling those bad tingles get worse, Krochus spoke to Eox; a middle aged man with a deadpan voice and an exhausted approach to his job. “Krochus, I’ve got your grades from your last test, and they are just awful,” he said with a forced empathy. Krochus didn’t feel so hurt by this, somehow. Perhaps as it had just happened, the stress of the wait was over. “Are you sure you want to keep studying here? Because you are just the worst at magic.”, added Eox.

Reasonably, Krochus was a little hacked off by that last bit. He was silent for a short moment, wondering what he could possibly say in response. After a very strange pause, all he could say was “Oh… right…”. He took the grades and left the Academy to let the news sink in.

When it came to expressing emotion, Krochus was probably less talented at that than Advanced Gemstone Theory. At least he knew 3 of the 7 elements of a Yakrutz rock, but that wouldn’t help him with his upset now. He sat on his bed in his hut, thinking about his career in the village. It was the middle of a humid night, and the rest of the village were asleep. He had spent the day helping the fishers at the beach half a mile through the forest. It was a distraction. His dream of becoming a village Mage was looking less likely, and it felt like his entire future was slipping into oblivion. No Mage job, no life, he thought. What would his future job entail? Mages were the ones who heal and use medical magic, and to trust Krochus with that job might end up killing a patient, or at least give them some giant yellow boils on their nose.

He needed to clear his head, so he went into his old cabinet of bric-a-brac. He knew he would still push himself to attend the Academy the next day, and at least try to scrape a pass for the next semester. He needed to prove he was capable of something involving talent, if not to Eox or himself, then at least to his grandfather. He pulled out a worn down, old metal cup from the cabinet, which belonged to his father figure a long time ago. Thinking about him more, it was a curious thing to have as a favourite cup; casted metal was not a thing in the Trobb Forest. All that was here was just the odd treetop village, and miles of trees along the south corner of Halithos. There were no blacksmiths or iron workshops in this region at all, so clearly his grandfather must have come to possess this cup from a faraway place. Thinking about these faraway places was curious. What was there outside these trees and beyond the sea near his village? What could exist, and what couldn’t? Were there places without trees everywhere? Maybe there were regions where people walked upside down and spoke backwards. It was certainly an odd train of thought, and his conclusion was one line: “Why the krynt would anybody want to go there?”. It was a strange idea to be anywhere but his village and this forest, and one that made him uncomfortable. His grandfather, despite being the loving mentor he was, must have been barking mad. However, he was the one parent he ever knew, and his disappearance 5 years ago was the one thing that could make Krochus well up in seconds. 14 years old, he was, and for the last 5 years he was alone, fending for himself, not remembering what love felt like, and attempting to pass just one exam.

#fantasy #writing #creative writing #my story #joey s hutton #tales of mestrya #that's how sally walks

[nebris]

Halfway to boiling: the city at 50C

It is the temperature at which human cells start to cook, animals suffer and air conditioners overload power grids. Once an urban anomaly, 50C is fast becoming reality 

Imagine a city at 50C (122F). The pavements are empty, the parks quiet, entire neighbourhoods appear uninhabited. Nobody with a choice ventures outside during daylight hours. Only at night do the denizens emerge, HG Wells-style, into the streets – though, in temperatures that high, even darkness no longer provides relief. Uncooled air is treated like effluent: to be flushed as quickly as possible.

School playgrounds are silent as pupils shelter inside. In the hottest hours of the day, working outdoors is banned. The only people in sight are those who do not have access to air conditioning, who have no escape from the blanket of heat: the poor, the homeless, undocumented labourers. Society is divided into the cool haves and the hot have-nots.

Those without the option of sheltering indoors can rely only on shade, or perhaps a water-soaked sheet hung in front of a fan. Construction workers, motor-rickshaw drivers and street hawkers cover up head to toe to stay cool. The wealthy, meanwhile, go from one climate-conditioned environment to another: homes, cars, offices, gymnasiums, malls.

Asphalt heats up 10-20C higher than the air. You really could fry an egg on the pavement. A dog’s paws would blister on a short walk, so pets are kept behind closed doors. There are fewer animals overall; many species of mammals and birds have migrated to cooler environments, perhaps at a higher altitude – or perished. Reptiles, unable to regulate their body temperatures or dramatically expand their range, are worst placed to adapt. Even insects suffer.

Maybe in the beginning, when it was just a hot spell, there was a boom in spending as delighted consumers snapped up sunglasses, bathing suits, BBQs, garden furniture and beer. But the novelty quickly faded when relentless sunshine became the norm. Consumers became more selective. Power grids are overloaded by cooling units. The heat is now a problem.

The temperature is recalibrating behaviour. Appetites tend to fade as the body avoids the thermal effect of food and tempers are quicker to flare – along, perhaps, with crime and social unrest. But eventually lethargy sets in as the body shuts down and any prolonged period spent outdoors becomes dangerous.

Hospitals see a surge in admissions for heat stress, respiratory problems and other illnesses exacerbated by high temperatures. Some set up specialist wards. The elderly, the obese and the sick are most at risk. Deaths rise.

At 50C – halfway to water’s boiling point and more than 10C above a healthy body temperature – heat becomes toxic. Human cells start to cook, blood thickens, muscles lock around the lungs and the brain is choked of oxygen. In dry conditions, sweat – the body’s in-built cooling system – can lessen the impact. But this protection weakens if there is already moisture in the air.

A so-called “wet-bulb temperature” (which factors in humidity) of just 35C can be fatal after a few hours to even the fittest person, and scientists warn climate change will make such conditions increasingly common in India, Pakistan, south-east Asia and parts of China. Even under the most optimistic predictions for emissions reductions, experts say almost half the world’s population will be exposed to potentially deadly heat for 20 days a year by 2100.

Not long ago, 50C was considered an anomaly, but it is increasingly widespread. Earlier this year, the 1.1 million residents of Nawabshah, Pakistan, endured the hottest April ever recorded on Earth, as temperatures hit 50.2C. In neighbouring India two years earlier, the town of Phalodi sweltered in 51C – the country’s hottest ever day.

Dev Niyogi, professor at Purdue University, Indiana, and chair of the Urban Environment department at the American Meteorological Society, witnessed how cities were affected by extreme heat on a research trip to New Delhi and Pune during that 2015 heatwave in India, which killed more than 2,000 people.

“You could see the physical change. Road surfaces started to melt, neighbourhoods went quiet because people didn’t go out and water vapour rose off the ground like a desert mirage,” he recalls.

“We must hope that we don’t see 50C. That would be uncharted territory. Infrastructure would be crippled and ecosystem services would start to break down, with long-term consequences.”

Several cities in the Gulf are getting increasingly accustomed to such heat. Basra – population 2.1 million – registered 53.9C two years ago. Kuwait City and Doha have experienced 50C or more in the past decade. At Quriyat, on the coast of Oman, overnight temperatures earlier this summer remained above 42.6C, which is believed to be the highest “low” temperature ever recorded in the world.

At Mecca, the two million hajj pilgrims who visit each year need ever more sophisticated support to beat the heat. On current trends, it is only a matter of time before temperatures exceed the record 51.3C reached in 2012. Last year, traditionalists were irked by plans to install what are reportedly the world’s biggest retractable umbrellas to provide shade on the courtyards and roof of the Great Mosque. Air conditioners weighing 25 tonnes have been brought in to ventilate four of the biggest tents. Thousands of fans already cool the marble floors and carpets, while police on horseback spray the crowds with water.

Football supporters probably cannot expect such treatment at the Qatar World Cup in 2022, and many may add to the risks of hyperthermia and dehydration by taking off their shirts and drinking alcohol. Fifa is so concerned about conditions that it has moved the final from summer to a week before Christmas. Heat is also why Japanese politicians are now debating whether to introduce daylight saving time for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics so that marathon and racewalk athletes can start at what is currently 5am and avoid mid-afternoon temperatures that recently started to pass 40C with humidity of more than 80%.

At the Australian open in Melbourne this year – when ambient temperatures reached 40C – players were staggering around like “punch-drunk boxers” due to heatstroke. Even walking outside can feel oppressive at higher temperatures. “The blast of furnace-like heat ... literally feels life-threatening and apocalyptic,” says Nigel Tapper, professor of environmental science at Melbourne’s Monash University, of the 48C recorded in parts of the city. “You cannot move outside for more than a few minutes.”

The feeling of foreboding is amplified by the increased threat of bush and forest fires, he adds. “You cannot help but ask, ‘How can this city operate under these conditions? What can we do to ensure that the city continues to provide important services for these conditions? What can we do to reduce temperatures in the city?’           

Those places already struggling with extreme heat are doing what they can. In Ahmedabad, in Gujarat, hospitals have opened specialist heat wards. Australian cities have made swimming pools accessible to the homeless when the heat creeps above 40C, and instructed schools to cancel playground time. In Kuwait, outside work is forbidden between noon and 4pm when temperatures soar.

But many regulations are ignored, and companies and individuals underestimate the risks. In almost all countries, hospital admissions and death rates tend to rise when temperatures pass 35C – which is happening more often, in more places. Currently, 354 major cities experience average summer temperatures in excess of 35C; by 2050, climate change will push this to 970, according to the recent “Future We Don’t Want” study by the C40 alliance of the world’s biggest metropolises. In the same period, it predicts the number of urban dwellers exposed to this level of extreme heat will increase eightfold, to 1.6 billion.

As baselines shift across the globe, 50C is also uncomfortably near for tens of millions more people. This year, Chino, 50km (30 miles) from Los Angeles, hit a record of 48.9C, Sydney saw 47C, and Madrid and Lisbon also experienced temperatures in the mid-40s. New studies suggest France “could easily exceed” 50C by the end of the century while Australian cities are forecast to reach this point even earlier. Kuwait, meanwhile, could sizzle towards an uninhabitable 60C.

How to cool dense populations is now high on the political and academic agenda, says Niyogi, who last week co-chaired an urban climate symposium in New York. Cities can be modified to deplete heat through measures to conserve water, create shade and deflect heat. In many places around the world, these steps are already under way.                        

The city at 50C could be more tolerable with lush green spaces on and around buildings; towers with smart shades that follow the movement of the sun; roofs and pavements painted with high-albedo surfaces; fog capture and renewable energy fields to provide cooling power without adding to the greenhouse effect.

But with extremes creeping up faster than baselines, Niyogi says this adapting will require changes not just to the design of cities, but how they are organised and how we live in them. First, though, we have to see what is coming – which might not hit with the fury of a flood or typhoon but can be even more destructive.

“Heat is different,” says Niyogi. “You don’t see the temperature creep up to 50C. It can take people unawares.”

https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2018/aug/13/halfway-boiling-city-50c

#extreme climate change

[theaspiringwanderess]

Packing For The West Coast Trail; Essentials, Clothing and Food

Return to My WCT Story | Booking: Reservations/Transport | Clothing, Essential Items, Recommended Items, Optional Items, Food

You Don’t Need The Kitchen Sink - Trust Me

Packing is a BIG deal for the WCT. It’s a lot to pack and there’s the pressure of not getting caught without the essential gear while keeping it all at a manageable weight. My first WCT trek I vastly over packed a 53lbs bag! It killed my hike and was hard on my body and most of the extra was food I hated, which was the worst. My second time I managed 38lbs and it went down dramatically as I ate! I packed everything on each list below (minus the book which i forgot and the GPS which I didnt bring) and still kept it at 38lbs including my food. Always opt for the lightest version. Cut size where you can, even the smallest items eventually add up (ex. some people cut off tooth brush handles, I have a rain shell instead of a full jacket, a double foam sleeping mat is much lighter - but bigger- than a blow-up mattress, an ultra light single unit stove, etc)... One spork for all and all for one spork!

Clothing

The proper clothing is a key factor in keeping you dry, warm/cool and happy. It’s important to keep it light weight but you also must be certain it’s functional for your needs. In 2016, my sister brought a rain jacket she tested and thought was waterproof. A full day of beach hiking in pouring rain later, not only did she learn the hard way it was not, but poor girl was cold, soaked and shivering too hard to do anything but shiver. Be 100% sure about your gear. You also want to be selective about fabrics. Avoid cotton, which retains moisture, and feather/down which loses its loft (heat trapping ability) when damp. Merino wool is a great bet to stay warm and dry and is the best option for socks and sweaters. Synthetic, sweat-wicking active wear is light weight and dries quickly for the daily hike. I also prefer my leggings and shorts to have a zip-up pocket or two. 

I pack my clothing in a waterproof stuff-sack, and I put tanks in one small ziplock, underwear and bras in another, and pjs in a third so they stay dry, clean and easy to find. I keep a safeway bag for dirty clothing and my lesser used items at the bottom (towel, bathing suite).

I always pack my sleeping bag in a garbage bag every morning before it goes in my pack. In the event I fall in a creek... or the ocean?... it’ll add a level of extra water-proof protection. I also re-waterproofed my Lowa hiking boots for the first time ever... this is their second visit to the WCT after all. And, as a random side note, don’t plan to wash your clothes on the WCT. I’ve seen so many people make this mistake. Trust me, nothing that gets wet will dry. EVER. If you have a sunny day, air it out, dry it in the sun, pack it up in a ziplock.

It’s important to note everyone has different needs. You might be ok with 2 pairs of hiking socks! Or one pair of leggings... This is just what worked best for me based on the experiences of both my trips. Customize your WCT adventure-wear as you see fit ;)

3 tank tops, active wear / workout (sweat wicking, not cotton!)

2 pairs of leggings, active wear / workout (seat wicking and stretchy for flexibility and comfort with zip pockets)

2 pairs of workout shorts (sweat wicking and stretchy, w/zip pockets)

3 pairs of merino wool hiking socks

1 pair of wooly socks to sleep in (in case you get cold)

2 pairs of sock liners (major blister prevention technique)

PJs: 1 tank top, 1 merino wool sweater, 1 pair merino leggings or light weight sweat pants

1 or 2 long sleeved sweater(s) active wear / sweat wicking (to wear under your rain jacket or as a warming option in morning) *I took one, but in the event you’re sweaty or expect a lot of rain, 2 is advisable.

3 pairs of underwear active wear / workout (or merino wool if you want to splurge) *for women 7 panty liners (1 per day) to extend your underwear life.

1 bathing suite top (use a pair of used shorts for bottoms and you’ll double their use and wash them at the same time!) ... or dudes wear just your shorts of course!

Essential Items

*For your emergency kit it is extremely important to bring allergy and pain meds. Unexpected reactions and injuries happen all the time. On my Murtle Lake canoe trip, my friend had a terrible reaction to the abundance of mosquitos for the first time in her life and I myself, not having allergies, have come away from the WCT with skin infections and allergic reactions. On average 80-100 hikers a year are emergency evacuated from the WCT due to injury or inability to continue.

1 good hiking backpack with hip belt & chest strap & RAIN COVER

1 pair waterproof hiking boots high top - comfortable, already broken in

1 pair hiking gaiters (protect against ticks, bugs, keeps pants, legs and boots dry, shields mud!)

WCT Trail Map, Tide Tables (provided by parks staff)

WCT overnight pass copy (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

$160 minimum cash for water taxi, crab shack, chez moniques (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

1 pair ultra-light sandals

1 waterproof rain jacket

1 towel (very small, microfibre recommended)

bear spray

single size cooking stove (I love my jetboil flash lite)

cooking stove fuel for 7 days (2 small cans or one large 230 g can)

long handled spork (this titanium one is the shiznit!)

emergency whistle

emergency kit (gauze, medical tape, various sized bandages, disinfecting/antibiotic cream, a few tabs of common medications such as tylonel, asprin, allergy treatments like benedryl or reactin).

2 regular toilet paper rolls with cardboard tube removed (in a ziplock)

Fire Starters:

1 lighter & 1 flint striker (learn how to use it! This is a great video)

Dependable fire starter (2 or 3 tiny balls of dryer lint rolled with a small amount of unscented vaseline inside a ziplock bag work great in wet weather and will burn for 10-15 mins)

sunscreen

2 (1 litre) water bottles OR 1 bottle and a 2 litre camel back water bag

Water purification tabs (my go-to is Pristine brand). Ensure they are the 30 minute variety (not 1-3 hours). Alternatively some people use a UV light but this does require batteries and adds weight

tarp, lightweight

paracord (15 m or 50 ft)

2 carabiners, 1 that can hold 50 lbs, 1 small light (for random things)

1 sleeping bag, synthetic fill (ideally good for +5 celcius)

1 waterproof tent with rainfly (*I have a cheap 2 person waterproof coleman tent with a tarp bottom that I later bought replacement aluminum poles for. The poles made a 5lb tent a 3lb tent - impressive investment. I pack the poles and my friend the tent body = 1.5lb/each)

cell phone (I use my phone camera a lot so I brought 2 backup chargers. Solar charging is not an option given fog)

3 extra large black garbage bags and  

3 large ziplocks (for trash, as an emergency poncho, keep feet dry in wet boots, the uses are endless)

1 pocket knife

1 flashlight

sunglasses

closed cell foam sleeping pad or light weight blow up mattress pad

1 watch, battery or wind-up water proof or at least resistant - digital watches can get damaged when wet or expensive watches ruined)

1 poop trowel.. yes you read that correctly - the plastic kind

1 bug spray (there weren’t many bugs, lots of wind though!)

2 travel sized hand sanitizers (for covid & as well after nature’s call)

1 emergency blanket

1 small soap or body wash (environmentally friendly brand)

1 travel toothpaste & toothbrush [small]

gloves (fingerless mesh back type for weight lifting is best)

neck gaiter (*instead of a hat - can double as a hat)

Other Recommended Items

unscented lip balm... you don’t want to smell like a walking buffet

1 light weight sleeping bag liner to keep sand and dirt out (I prefer silk)

ball cap or foam visor *non-water absorbing (this can be worn on a sunny day or under a rain hood to keep rain off your face).

1 emergency plastic poncho

1-2 hair ties (it gets wet and windy and they double as pack ties!)

sweat band

baby wipes (good for cleaning your face, or dishes...)

a small book or time passer (don’t bring a giant novel)

Items I’d Consider Optional

rain pants (*optional as long as you have a long waterproof rain jacket. gaiters provide extra leg protection or if its warm don shorts! skin dries)

small camera with good battery life (not necessary if you use your phone)

pen and paper for notes or emergencies

small GPS or Spot satellite device

1 waterproof phone case (if you bring a phone)

1 extra light pillow (optional - i had one this time but usually use my sweater)

Food Recommendations

On the WCT you are expending roughly 3000-4000+ calories per day. That’s more than double the average 120lb marathon runner going hard for 2 hours if they ran 12 miles. You are Climbing, Hauling, Pushing, and your feet are operating at the agility level of “expert cat on steroids”. So, essentially you NEED the calories. But packing the right amount (and weight) of food is challenging. I’m happy to report this time I ate it all by the end so it was the perfect amount. If you find you are running low or forgot something, you might be able to grab it from the Nitinaht crab shack and likewise if you over pack you can leave extra food there for someone else. But please, do NOT leave garbage.

**Note, I must, must stress - DO NOT leave garbage on the trail. There is no garbage removal service. Parks staff do not remove it and with covid there are fewer staff in general. Garbage is a major bear attractant and you put others at risk leaving it behind. 2021 is a year with only Canadians allowed on the WCT and the amount of garbage was appalling.

The WCT, and island in general, is VERY humid. It’s best to bring items in individual packages, otherwise things clump or mush. On our first trip, my sister brought important medications that melted and became extremely difficult to take. My advice is to pack any daily meds you must bring in the plastic containers with individual days. This way if something similar happens to you, you can still be safe knowing the amount taken.

Additionally, I work with a very simple but effective system of ziplock bags. This keeps everything fresh, organized, and easy to find as you go. I have one large ziplock for breakfasts, one for lunch & snacks, and one for dinner. As I finish breakfast I move it to the bottom of my bear bag and put lunch/snacks on top for easy access and so on - Ta-da!

I consider lunch and snacks the same thing as we never stopped for a cooked meal mid-day. In 2016 my sister talked me into doing dried lentil dinners and it was the WORST (... for me, she loved it!). It made it hard for me to want to eat, which was a big set back. I have this vivid memory burned into my brain from our first trip of an adorable father - daughter duo whom we criss-crossed a lot. One rainy day he had her tucked up under a tree eating the most delicious looking meat and cheese sandwich and my instant thought was ‘awww, so cute... I’d kill you for that sandwich though...”. Who knew a sandwich could insight such murderous intent?!

My lesson learned was when it comes to physically demanding, multi-day hikes, pack healthy but also things you enjoy eating. I strive for light weight first and foremost. I love fruit but it doesn’t pack well, so items like fruit leathers work well. Real, individually wrapped, cheese sticks are a great too; by day 5 they get soft or oily, but they never go bad (harder cheeses like cheddar are naturally preserved), so I stick to 4 or 5 day cheese supplies. My ultra-favourite hiking snack - individual wrapped rice crispy squares! I pack 2 per day... and a couple extra for desserts! I never packed enough of each junk food to have one for every day, instead with treats I generally aimed to have 4-5 of each and mix it up. In between hikes, I also spend some time picking up and trying different types of nuts. Don’t get me wrong, peanuts are good, but after 4 days they get pretty boring. I often pop into a Winners or Home Sense store and look for enticing types of nut mixes and I’ll keep them in my car to snack on and decide if its a keeper.

Im also very careful about toothbrushing too because prolonged periods of hiking without proper dental care wrecks havoc on your teeth.

Ok! Down to the nitty-gritty! My dinner ziplock has 1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert. And I have a small ziplock for items like my toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash slips, and anything else that might need to go in the bear bag. Again, I’ll preface this by saying its important to note everyone’s needs are unique and based on the experiences of both my trips, this is the food I packed.

Breakfast Ziplock

7-8 easy breakfasts (i pack 1 peaches & cream oatmeal for each morning and an extra in case we missed the bus).

coffee - starbucks via’s have been my favs! but nescafe also makes individual coffees and a fab toffee nut cappuccino option!

sugar and powdered creamer (individual pkgs) & tea in a smaller ziplock

a smaller ziplock for toothbrush/paste, body wash etc

Lunch / Snacks Ziplock

bag of beef jerky

individual (real) cheese sticks (usually cheddar, or a hard variety works best, soft cheese goes bad faster)

a few bags of different varieties of nuts (*lemon sea salt almonds, tamari nut mix, cilantro lime cashews, Dare brand Vietnamese coffee flavoured macadamia nuts)

2 bags snack sized hawkins cheezies

5 individually pkgd M&M’s chocolate & oatmeal cookies (*the M&M cookies were crumbly, the oatmeal squished but stuck together!)

16 Rice crispy squares - my ultra-fav hiking snack, individually wrapped (2 per day + couple extras)

4 fruit leather bars in a smaller ziplock

4 snack sized oh-henrys in a smaller ziplock

2 bags Stinger caffeine gummies & 2 capsules Nuune electrolyte/caffeine tabs in a smaller ziplock

Dinner Ziplock

1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert

Presidents Choice brand (bagged) vegetarian chili *this was a new try for me, normally I advocate for dry only food because wet is messy, can leak, is heavy and can go bad fast. BUT! I ate this the first night on the trail so it was gone quickly, and it stood up to the abuse and was only $3!

AlpineAire potato cheddar soup (dehydrated) is my fav dinner. fast, hot, make in the bag, and tasty!

2 Stove Top brand stuffing; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy)

1 Instant mashed potatoes; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy) - FYI this is a BIG meal, make only what you can eat or bring a smaller amount if you cant eat the whole thing.

3 pkgs reduced salt gravy mix

1 Nomad Nutrition vegetarian shepards pie dehydrated meal.

1 dehydrated dessert hot option (maple rice pudding this time!)

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