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gingerteaonthetardis · 2 years

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WIP Telephone: "Spooky"

if you don't want to see what might become an increasingly long tumblr post, feel free to block the tag "WIP telephone." (i'll also be tagging it "long post," just in case. don't want to clog up people's dashes.)

when i logged on this morning and opined what to do with all the WIPs i know i'll never finish, it was brilliantly suggested that i offer some of them up to be collaboratively worked on by my pals here on tumblr. it's intended to be a tag game, of sorts, with each person adding maybe a hundred words (obviously, since my WIPs are all more than a hundred words, my starting excerpts are going to be… a bit longer than that, oops; and feel free to add more than that, if you feel like doing so) and then tagging someone else to add more, and so on, etc. etc.

if it's fun and anyone's interested, i'll do more, but i thought i'd start with something... 🍂 seasonally appropriate. 🍂 i'll be sharing additions as they come along!

also, tagging you for the next hundred words, because you're the one who started it all: dear @mrunmione (i'm not telling which doctor this is supposed to be; i'll let you pick!)

She hadn’t meant to say it.

“I’m not sleeping in here without you.”

In all honesty, she’s perfectly capable of sleeping on her own in a strange place; she’s done it plenty of times before. Living with the Doctor means getting used to sleeping in unusual spots. Hospital gurneys. Motel rooms in the far future where the beds float. Under ballroom tables, though that was just the once, and she’d had a lot to drink. The occasional jail cell.

Needless to say, she’s well acquainted with catnaps in odd places.

Only “odd” isn’t really the same as “haunted.”

And this place—wherever they are—is definitely haunted.

No matter what the Doctor says.

"Spooky," she decreed as they trudged up the damp path toward the house on the hill. "Think it's haunted?"

"There's no such thing," he insisted. The Doctor rolled his eyes in clear scepticism, but they both knew there was some reason the TARDIS landed them there.

Entering through the unlocked door, they set about taking readings of the entrance hall and cramped lower rooms, all covered in dark wood and heavy tapestries. The decor was decidedly out of date, like something from a period film. No modern lighting, no electrical outlets to speak of.

But though the place had something unsettling about it, it also seemed decidedly empty.

“This house is old,” the Doctor said, eyes intent, scanning over the low ceilings. “A few hundred years, I’d say. Maybe more."

When Rose wandered to the hearth, his supposition was confirmed by two small, framed sketches: two different women, their hair pulled back in artful ringlets and their faces set in gentle Mona Lisa smiles. One was dark and the other fair. And there were no names.

They were both dated 1781.

Before she could point them out, the Doctor was already running up the main staircase, rattling off jargon that she couldn’t even begin to understand—nonsense about atmospheric pressure and residual readings of… something—his voice too-loud in the stillness of the house.

She trailed after him, only sort of half-listening. But as she turned the corner back into the hall, the whole place rumbled—and thumped, a sound like stones grinding against the bottom of a ship. The floorboards shook perilously under her feet, and she reached out on instinct, steadying herself against the base of the bannister.

“Doctor?"

The Doctor, of course, didn't so much as move. He remained stopped about halfway up the stairs, effortlessly balanced despite the unstable terrain. His head cocked and a half-smile on his lips, he said, "That wasn't a quake."

Of course not.

"What was it, then?"

His smile spread, becoming a full, face-overtaking, slightly manic sort of expression. "I have no idea."

To her very great alarm, he sounded delighted.

"Don't tell me you're scared, Rose," the Doctor laughs, sending the torchlight juddering through the darkness. "Look, it's cosy!"

"I'm not scared," she insists. "It's just—"

"Yes, spooky." It's a little too dim to tell, but she's pretty certain he's rolling his eyes. "So you've said."

He'd picked her room for the night seemingly at random, nudging open doors until he found one with a suitable bed. And in the faint light, the bedroom does seem—nice. Less haunting, maybe, than the rest of the house. But still… off, somehow, in a way she can't quite put her finger on.

As she steps around him, careful not to cut off the wavering beam of the torch, she peers around, making note of all she can see: the crisp linens, the intricately carved wooden bed posts, the glint of polished glass—an oil lamp, she realises.

Something catches at the back of her mind, and she turns toward the Doctor with a frown already creeping over her face. "It's all sort of… clean, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's not musty or anything in here." Gesturing at the bed, she waits for the torch to illuminate the bedspread; startlingly, the coverlet is tucked down, as if someone had only just recently got in or out. Though, perhaps not. Maybe the last occupant of the house just really went in for turn-down service.

But then, she sees it, on the pillow…

She ducks down, looking closer at the little shadow against the pale linens. A faint waft of something carries up to her nose, and it takes her a moment to register just what it is: floral, reminding her faintly of Mickey's Gran.

"Lavender," she murmurs, thumbing over the little bundle of flowers, held together by faded ribbon. "It's fresh."

With a click, the torch light blinks out, and for an instant, she is overtaken by unstoppable, irrational fear. The Doctor is in the room with her, and as he's reminded her several times tonight, they've swept the whole house, searched every nook and cranny: there's nobody here.

But the wind howling outside the window, the faint blueness of the night, and the whisper of dry, bare tree branches scraping together all press in around her, thick as shadow, making her skin crawl and her breath catch.

The prospect of passing a whole night like this, alone with the dark and whatever lurks inside it, is almost too much to bear.

So, fine. She is a little bit scared.

Then there's a rustle, a scrape, a hiss, and then a match blooms with fire, lighting the sharp lines of the Doctor's face from below. He's grinning as he lowers the match to light the oil lamp.

"You're right," he says pleasantly. "This is spooky."

#😬😬😬 golly i hope this turns out to be a fun idea #WIP telephone #long post #dw fic #timepetals #doctor x rose #my fic #uhhhh how else to tag this #doctor who #rose tyler

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rottmntliberation · 8 months

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How's life?

Greetings, Tumblr! It has been quite a while since any of us have logged onto this account. Life is going pretty well for me. I'm living with my Tia, I'm going to therapy, and Tyler and I are coming up on our one year anniversary in a few months, actually (isn't that wild?). It honestly feels like it was only yesterday when I started this blog. I was angry, in denial, confused, and I thought I would find community and solace with others who had the same detrimental mindset as I did, but that couldn't be more true. It's not only thanks to Dion setting me straight or Tyler holding my hand, it's also thanks to all of you who helped me be who I am today. I honestly wouldn't have believed you a year ago if you told me I'd moved out of the house, cut contact with my parents and was dating my male best friend. It's nearly impossible to fathom even now. As for Mikey and Dion? We still talk from time to time, and we'll occasionally game together. We're not as tight as we used to be, and honestly, it does bother me, but I also realize that we don't have the time to be living our lives online. Dion has college, Mikey is in her budding years of high school, and as the Rise fandom slowly dwindles, we're just not the same people we were back then. That doesn't mean what we had wasn't special; it'll always be special, even more so now that it's a memory I can cherish. I will admit that I miss them every day. I check Discord constantly to see if either of them have reached out aaaand I better stop typing before I make this a vent post! I guess I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. Really! ~ With much appreciation, Asher

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redwinterroses · 2 years

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Your post about the Grian Effect is funny to me because I somehow went like two and a half years with that solidly not happening to me, I'd watch Jimmy's reaction to a prank on Evo, or occasionally try a Mumbo video in early season 6, etc, and I always just decided that I didn't have time to watch more than one POV, plus the recap told me pretty much everything that was going on anyway, right?

I think the first time I really started branching out was in late 2020 when (before I decided I wanted to actually join Tumblr I would sometimes look at the Hermitcraft tag, back when that was possible without getting a "log in or sign up" popup lol) I saw a post about how Bdubs is just as chaotic as Grian, and also realised that the Etho guy everyone made a big deal about was that same Etho guy I remembered everyone making a big deal about a few years before and I decided to see if I'd like his videos too, and at some point I started watching Scar as well, and when Grian came back and started making secret bases I picked up Impulse's POV...

One fateful evening, there was a Mumbo video with fire in the thumbnail and I decided to check in since I hadn't seen as much of him in Grian's videos recently, and the HCBBS mystery gripped me, and I started watching every single episode of Hermitcraft that came out just in case it featured, and by the time the base swap began I was watching everyone and I don't think I've missed a single episode since. (So technically a kind of Mumbo Effect, in a roundabout way? Come to think of it I think I was originally planning to start watching Hermitcraft from Mumbo's perspective when season 6 started because s5 looked too long to watch at that point and I liked Mumbo's other videos, but when Grian joined I ended up just watching him instead!)

But actually I think the Grian Effect is what got me into SMPs in general, before that I would just sometimes watch random single player stuff but eventually get bored and move on, I started watching Grian through his building tutorials actually, and when I started getting bored of those I decided to look at his channel to see if he did other things, that was how I found Evo! I remember not being sure at first if I wanted to watch something with lots of unfamiliar people shouting at the same time in the intro, glad I gave it a chance though lol!

my own post doesn't even apply to me lol, I was a victim of the Mumbo Effect. Started by trying to find a tutorial for a piston door, ended up watching his season 5? Randomly? s6 was winding down, I think.

Then it was Grian, then Impulse, then Tango, then Scar, and Iskall, and Xisuma and... yeah the spiral is real lol.

#redwinteranswers

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dazzlegradual · 1 year

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girl offline

this past new years eve, while many of our peers avowed to avoid alcohol for the next month, my friend delaney and I exchanged our instagram passwords and asked each other to change them and keep them a secret. while the both of us agreed that critically examining one's relationship to alcohol is great, particularly with how casual alcoholism is enabled throughout our culture (looking at you, wine mom tea towels at homes goods). 'dry january' didn't feel like the right fit for either of us. neither of us are huge drinkers.

I didn't drink for most of the pandemic. now, my nights out dancing with friends, hangs at breweries, occasional trail beers (one of life's greatest pleasures), and bottles of wine shared at board game nights fall within the realm of (what i'd categorize) as healthy.

anyway, my 'month off social media' passed with little consequence or fanfare. I didn't yearn to check instagram once. after delaney and I exchanged passwords, I decided that staying off instagram should also mean staying off all other social media. I already don't use snapchat, tiktok (usually), or twitter. I did continue using pinterest, tumblr, and reddit. I decided that the way I used them was non-addictive and thus probably fine. but I did remove the apps from my phone. I did also stayed on BeReal.

throughout january, all the instances in which my new less-online proclivities were points of discomfort were purely external. my internal world went on uninterrupted, but around my peers, I did notice that my ability to participate in our shared culture subsided. a few occasions transpired, for example, where a friend wanted to send me the instagram account of a tattoo artist they liked, or they referenced a TikTok audio in conversation that I didn't get. (I was reminded that the least funny thing someone can do is try to explain a TikTok audio to you. I wish people didn't do this.)

besides secondhand embarassment, these instances didn't really bother me. life moved on. January rolled into February, and it did not occur to me to re-download social media. when I realized this, I texted Delaney, and we shared a short conversation about it:

honestly, thank god for Delaney. it felt so good that I had a confidant in this experiment, but it did get harder as the month went on. during the latter half of February, I had a few compulsions to check instagram, though, notably, they weren't born out of pure, idle boredom. they were for specific reasons: I wanted to look up a podcast host's page after they mentioned something on their show; I met someone cool at a concert and they wanted to exchange handles; I was curious if a local venue I liked had shows coming up, and they update ig more than their website. I resisted these temptations, deciding it would be worthwhile to hold out for the rest of February. though of these instances I took note that, given all the new reasons I craved checking instagram reflected actual intentional thinking and reasoning, it might be worthwhile to consider a use of instagram as a information hub rather that a social channel. this shift would mirror more closely to how I use reddit -- I go on for specific information relating to my interests, like for paramore set lists (lol) or how to hem a pair of pants (i'm short).

as i'm writing this, it's now March 1st, and I caved this morning. I asked Delaney for my ig password back. I felt weirdly anxious logging back in, critical and suspicious of any dopamine-rush adjacent feelings. I logged in, and the algorithm eagerly delivered all the posts I wanted to see on a shiny silver platter: a friend had an anniversary, another posted beautiful photos from a recent trip, another recently got a puppy, an author I like announced a new book, my 10 year high school reunion is this year (lol), and my mom had sent me a cool travel account. cool. things I was genuinely excited to see.

with that settled, the novelty wore off rapidly. good god, there were so many ads! there were literally ads every 3-4 instagram stories: pod shaped toothbrushes (why is everything a god damn pod these days), CBD gummies, running shoes, artisanal coffee, birth control. it seemed like you could get a subscription for everything you could ever need. scrolling through stories felt like I was listening to an endless mid-episode ad reel of a podcast.

i then went to the explore page and encountered a truly horrendous amount of ads: actual humans blending seamlessly into an mirage of makeup tutorials, clay pots, cute cats, and hiking trails. everything there that wasn't an ad was still trying to sell me something: a new recipe to try, a dress I don't need, a planter that looks expensive, a face oil that probably does nothing, a buy-guide on how to recreate a hayley williams makeup look. the entirely of the explore page was coded exactly to my interests and proclivities, and it weirded me out how well these algorithms seemed designed to sell me shit I truly didn't need.

this was about the point where my crisis began. did I want to be here? was staying up to date with hundreds of acquaintances, friends, past lovers, old classmates, brief coworkers, and literally all of my family members from the worth the millions of generated e-billboards designed for other young millennial, white, feminist, childless, tastefully ironic (BUT NOT TOO ONLINE), fiona apple listening, anime watching, west coast-coded, leftist, sophia coppola loving, queer, outdoorsy, well-read college educated girlies just like me? (who are all also extremely individually unique, obviously).

did I need to buy supplements, or did I just like the container they came in? did I actually like the headband, or did a pretty girl get paid to post a picture of herself in it? did I need a new jumpsuit or did the big bud press model look cool in it? do I need a new claw clip or do I just like the font that the advertisers chose?

what could I possible gain by being on instagram? what did it add to my life besides benign inadequacy, inferiority, and an excessively long shopping list?

the truth is boring and painfully obvious, and yet we all continue scrolling. but why? fomo? addiction? anxiety? a mere lack of reflection? shortened attention spans? the fraught hope for an occasional dopamine rush when in reality most of us feel worse after spending time on instagram?

to be frank, I'm of sick of feeling this way. and so: this post officially marks the beginning of my attempt to spend the rest of 2023 off of social media. glory be all. what follows below are the (loose) parameters I am setting for myself for this experiment. i'm using parameters because i'm not setting any official rules. if I mess up, it literally doesn't matter and no one will care. I also don't wait failure to dissuade me from keeping up the effort; say, for instance, in 6 months, I re-download instagram. in my opinion, that would still be a success, because I still stayed off instagram for 6 months. I don't want to put arbitrary rules on myself. this is a lifestyle change. adjustments can be made. and again (this cannot be overstated), literally no one but me cares. thus, starting today, these are the only 'social' things I will still use, as I don't have an unhealthy reliance on them:

spotify, cause I like sharing playlists with friends, and I use it for podcasts.

bandcamp, cause I like following artists.

goodreads. I like sharing what I'm reading and seeing what my friends are reading.

tumblr/reddit/pinterest, as I don't use these websites as social media. (though pinterest is on thin fucking ice cause the bitches on there REALLY want us to all have eating disorders). I am probably going to keep tumblr on my phone, as a treat.

lex, which is like a craigslist for gay people. it's fun and harmless, and I barely check it anyway.

an anonymous instagram account that has no followers, and that I will use to keep up with bands/venues that I like. but this account will only be logged into on my computer and checked for SPECIFIC reasons.

linkedin and facebook, because I will be looking for a full-time job later this year. tragic.

email, unfortunately. see number 8.

when i've told people i'm attempting this experiment, i've been asked the following question a few times: what are you going to do with your free time?

this strikes me as an odd question, and I guess I think it's strange because for most of human history, the internet has not existed. though I suppose that cannot be a reasonable justification for offing the internet because there are plenty of things that we humans used to do that I do not think we should reinstate. (see also: the jungle by upton sinclair). maybe some things have improved as a result of the internet, but i'm not entirely convinced it's a net positive. (it definitely isn't for me.) still, there is a lot of solo free time to be had in adulthood, and it's a valid question, and one I will endeavor to answer:

reading, duh. love audiobooks and my city has great libraries.

I listen to a lot of music, and really enjoy going to shows. they provide a great deal of scope for the imagination. one of my favorite times in the whole world is the time in-between sets at shows. I love to stand in the crowd and watch everyone: couples, friends, other strangers just meeting. if you're a fan of people watching, this (and airport bars) are the true mother loads of people watching. it's a bit too loud in these concert crowds to make out exactly what people are saying, but that's the best part. you have to rely on your storytelling abilities to make sense of the world around you. (sorry to all the people in the seattle area i've stared at unabashedly at shows. it will continue to happen.)

podcasts are what they are. but I like some! my favorites tend to veer towards the theme of history, lolz, and feminism. my favorites right now (that I would recommend to others) are: Who? Weekly, Rehash, Maintenance Phase, You're Wrong About, Not Past It, and It's Been a Minute.

walking, walking, walking.

reading (the sequel): I really enjoy long form journalism. right now, I like The New Inquiry, Long Reads, The New Yorker, Blood Knife, The Baffler, and The Atlantic. I have also been starting to explore the world of Substack, but generally find its formatting extremely dystopian. I can't quite put my finger on it. someone smarter than me please write a thinkpiece about this.

it is honestly weird to be a 27 year old who is trying to live a life off of social media, especially after being someone who's spent so much time online. this is a short life of some things that inspire me to stay offline:

bragging rights. if nothing else, I can feel comforted by a trite sense of superiority.

the luddite community in NYC. literally my idols.

this binchtopia podcast episode.

how good I feel seeing my weekly screen time average go down.

how much I enjoy spending time with my friends, and not looking at my phone once.

reading books and watching movies about people spending time outside and note using technology.

remembering that there are ways to live more slowly, and not always in big, demonstrative, political ways.

Studio Ghibli movies, especially ones like From Up on Poppy Hill and My Neighbor Totoro. they connect me to the idleness of my childhood, especially in the summer, and that I can live without the internet because I already did it for the first 10 years of my life.

'How to Do Nothing' by Jenny Odell

'Trick Mirror' by Jia Tolentino

remembering that after deleting my twitter account in 2021 I have not missed it once.

remembering that I am worth more than just the things I produce.

in conclusion, mostly I am just attempting this to see what it feels like, and to see how I can connect to the world in different ways. I do yearn connection to the larger world around me, but I feel a deep repulsion at the social internet as it exists now. the internet was originally designed to help us build connections to each other and to exercise our free speech rights, and while it does do that, it also means fringe conspiracy groups can gain traction at unparalleled speeds. knowing this, being online stresses me out, on top of all of the zillions of advertisements it forces me to look at (and already discussed above). i've always been a pretty online person. I like staying up to date with the world around me and keeping up with contemporary discourse. but the speed at which news is moving feels unsustainable and frankly dangerous. honestly, the safest thing it feels like I can do, for myself, is step back from it. I want to learn how to form opinions and write them down in a journal, and not espouse them to the world. and, like the singer from my favorite band, "I feel useless behind this computer".

lastly, on a personal note, i've noticed that it's really easy for me to fall into patterns where I am constantly body-checking myself compared to others on social media. I tried to combat this at first by following a bunch of 'body positive' accounts on instagram, and while it was nice to see actual human bodies, it really only compounded the sheer amount of bodies I had to compare my own to.

regardless of how I feel about it, i'm stuck in the body I got. I want to form a healthy opinion and relationship to it without the ever alluring capabilities of the 'gram. no one else gets to live in my flesh prison, ergo, no one else gets a say as to what it looks like. the fact of the whole matter is that the only person who suffers if I don't like the way I look is me, and, advertisers have everything to gain the more unhappy i fare. thus, out of spite, i will fare well.

#dazzlegradual

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

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Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 6 Part 8

Part 7

Liam's phone rang. He ignored it and let it go to voicemail. When it rang again, he made a noise of disgust and took his phone out of his pocket to look at it. "It's my publicist. I had better take this."

Liam answered the phone and went outside to talk. I turned the oven on and started to unpack the groceries. Then I got the roast, put it in a baking tray, poured olive oil over the top and seasoned it with salt and some pepper. I got out some onions and garlic and started to cut them up to place around the roast to give it some added flavour.

"That looks great," Liam said when he came back in.

"Thanks," I said, and I gave him a grin. I took the tray and put it in the oven. I got my phone and put an alarm on, giving myself time to cook the veggies before they finished. A thought came to me, and before I could bite my tongue, I said, "They do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Really?" Liam licked his lips, looked down at his pants and said, "I'd say they were aiming too high."

It took me a minute to work out what the joke was. When I finally did, I couldn't help but laugh and hide my face in my hands.

"You've gone so red!" Liam appeared to be having fun with my inability to control my blushes.

"Oh, my God!" I said, still hiding my face and laughing. "Alright, that was funny."

It took me a while to stop laughing. When I did, Liam said sombrely, "Sweetheart, I have to tell you something."

"Uh, oh, it doesn't sound good."

"It's not bad. I don't know how you will feel about it." Liam then told me that his publicist had called to let him know there were pictures put on Instagram and Twitter of the two of us kissing at the pub last night. "Your name hasn't been mentioned, and the photos look to be shot from pretty far away on a mobile, so someone in the pub took the pictures. Sarah says they probably aren't going to tell who you are by the pictures unless someone who knows you well comes forward."

I think if my eyes bulged out of my head any further, they would have fallen out and rolled on the floor. "That quick?" It was all I could think to say.

"Yeah. It's hard to know what will come out and when. A lot of times I go out, and no one notices me, but other times I have paps or members of the public following me for hours."

"Who's Sarah?"

"My publicist." Liam reached across the bench and took my hand in his. "Are you ok?"

"You say they don't know who I am?" Liam nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't happy but what was I going to do about it? I picked at my nails. I needed to paint them; the pale pink polish was starting to chip.

"You ok?" Liam asked again

I shrugged. "Your life is weird."

Liam chucked. "You keep telling me that."

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, usually Sarah would say to private all social media, but she had a look and said she could only find a Facebook profile for you which was already private. Do you have any others? Instagram? Twitter? Snapchat?"

"No. I have a YouTube account that I use to watch videos, but that isn't linked to my real name or email. Also, a Tumblr account, again not associated with my name. And no pictures of me."

"Tumblr?" He raised an eyebrow. His fucking lip twitched.

"I was a confused 22-year-old ok?" I said a bit defensively. "I haven't used it in years," I remembered then the dating site we met on. I quickly logged on and selected the options to hide the account.

"Ok, well, there's not much else right now. A few rags called Sarah for comment. She said the standard no comment and asked for my privacy to be respected. The rest is up to you."

"Up to me?" I asked, confused. "What's up to me?"

"When you want to confirm the relationship and release your name."

"Liam, I met you less than 24 hours ago and have known you only a few months. I'm not ready for that. I like you a lot, but maybe you pick your nose and eat it, and I'll have to dump your arse tomorrow and then it's been a big song and dance over nothing." I joked. The mood had gotten too heavy for me. I wanted to talk about something else.

"Sweetheart, I'd never do that." He smiled sweetly, "I'd make you eat it."

"Ewww!" I screamed.

"Get over here." He chased me around the bench, and after a few evasions and some more squeals, he caught me. Perrin came in through the doggy door and barked at Liam a few times. Our behaviour obviously scandalised him. "Perrin," I called. "Come here, boy."

"You think your dog can save you?"

"Of course, he's very protective of my honour."

"We will see about that." Liam bent over, and I thought he was going to tackle me. Instead of flying backwards, I was hoisted forward and found myself over his shoulder. I screamed as I heard a loud crack, my hands flying to my bum.

"Did you just smack my arse?" I must admit I was finding all the manhandling arousing. I wasn't going to let him know that, though.

"Yes, I did. Want another?" Liam was heading down the hallway, taking me to the bedroom.

I giggled. "No!"

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Liam quoted. Shakespeare sounded good with his accent. I giggled some more, and I got another one. Yes, very arousing.

Liam hummed. "I quite like the view here." He rubbed my bottom and took me into my bedroom.

I was very close to his round bum. "This view is not so bad either," I said and smacked his arse. Unfortunately, it probably hurt me more than it hurt him. His butt was tight!

Liam dropped me onto the bed at that point, and the look on his face was hysterical. I couldn't stop laughing, and tears were rolling down my face. Then I did the most embarrassing thing: I snorted.

That was it. Both of us couldn't stop. Every time I calmed enough to think I could speak, one look at Liam's face, and I'd be off again.

Eventually, we stopped, and I was able to say, "Oh my God, your face! That was so bloody funny." I wiped my eyes.

"I think that may have been the first time someone's done that to me."

"Really? Didn't you go to an all-boys school?"

"Yes, but it wasn't the US." Liam tried suppressing a grin as he said, "we got ball taps."

I tried not to laugh. I really did. "Oh, my God!" I was off again.

We watched the original Mad Max before I had to go and finish dinner. I was horrified when Liam said he hadn't seen it before. I immediately made him watch it. He said it was ok, the concept was great, but he didn't love it. I told him he needed a brain scan.

When I went to make dinner, Liam offered to help, but I told him not to be silly.

Liam sat at the kitchen bench chatting to me while I chopped and blanched the vegetables. After a while, he said he had to call Sarah and his assistant Ryan to make sure he had organised the dog walker to take Cole for a walk and play.

"Any update from Sarah?" I asked Liam when he returned. I feigned disinterest while I finished slicing the roast.

"All the same right now. Some sites have posted the pictures, saying I was spotted drinking with an "unknown female companion." The pictures have circulated a bit on Twitter, but it's mostly just by fans. They haven't hit the mainstream yet. It's all fairly standard, and it will go away by tomorrow by the looks of it."

"Good," I said. A look I couldn't interpret passed over Liam's face. He masked it pretty quickly. I opened my mouth to ask if he was ok but shut it again. I said, instead, "dinner's ready." I passed Liam his plate.

"Thank you," Liam said, leaning over to kiss me before eating. I watched as he cut up some beef and started chewing. "Pretty good. Almost as good as Mum's," he teased with a wink.

I elbowed him, and God bless him; he pretended it hurt.

We ate in silence for a while. I gave a few pieces to Perrin. He was so old, and I couldn't help but spoil him occasionally. He won't be around forever.

After dinner, Liam insisted on helping me clean up, and we stacked the dishwasher. Watching him bend over, his jeans straining as he put the plates in, stirred some feelings. Erotic feelings.

"Want to watch another movie?" He asked.

"Not really," I said. "I'm in the mood for some dessert."

"Ice-cream? I can't have any, but you can."

"Not ice-cream," I said, shaking my head. I looked at him with my very best bedroom eyes.

"What do you want then? Want me to go to the shops?" He said, not catching on. I put my arms around his waist. "If you let me borrow your car, I'll go. I can just go on my own."

"No, you wombat." I met his hips with mine, his eyes widened. "What I want is right here." I wriggled against him. Liam grinned widely, his cheeks creasing in such a sexy way.

"I thought you were shy."

"I am getting used to you," I said. "The real me is coming out." The truth of my words took me by surprise. I looked away, second-guessing myself. Why did I do that?

"I like her," Liam said hoarsely. If he hadn't spoken then, I think I would have stopped. But when his hands went into my hair, and he pulled, stretching my throat, I knew I wasn't going to stop. He kissed me there, and his teeth grazed my skin. My fingers reached under his shirt, and they gripped his back. My nails dug into his skin.

"Bedroom?" I whispered.

"Bedroom," he agreed and walked me backwards to my room.

"You promised me something earlier today," Liam said in between kisses. We were close to my bed.

"What's that?"

He stopped kissing me and cupped my face with his hands. "You said I could undress you."

Liam took hold of my t-shirt and waited. I nodded. He slowly lifted my shirt up and over my head before dropping it to the ground. He tilted his head as if contemplating and gently turned me around.

I felt Liam gather my hair and put it over my shoulder. He caressed my back with his fingertips, making me shiver with pleasure. I heard him give a satisfied hum before undoing my bra. He turned me around again and took hold of my bra straps, pulling them down my arms.

When I dropped my bra beside my shirt, Liam took a step back. He looked me up and down, his eyes hungry. I wanted to cover myself under his intense gaze, my earlier courage wavering under his scrutiny.

My arms started to move, and he gave me a stern look. "You're not thinking of hiding now, are you?"

I shook my head and forced my arms back by my sides. "Good, because I want to look. You're quite the sight." As if to emphasise his point, he adjusted himself through his pants. I felt a thrill of excitement flow through me and felt the familiar throbbing between my legs.

Liam got down on his knees and kissed my belly. His rough stubble tickled. "Your skin is so soft," he said in a low voice. He undid my jeans and kissed a trail down as he unzipped me. His breath was warm, and I felt it through the cotton of my briefs, his last kiss placed just above my slit.

It was almost agony. I moaned at his teasing breath and lips. Then Liam pulled down my underwear and kissed my mound. I felt his tongue part my lips, and when he found what he was looking for, he flattened his tongue and moaned into me.

I didn't know what to do. For a moment, I wanted to stop Liam, but it felt too good. I could feel my resolve waning. I didn't want to wait. Why should we wait? What was I waiting for? I had to stop thinking and go with it, enjoy him, enjoy the experience. I put my fingers in his hair as he licked and sucked at me. He seemed to remember what I liked, and soon I was close to my peak.

One of his fingers played at my entrance. I silently begged for Liam to put it in. My core was desperate to be filled. His finger slowly entered me, and I was lost. I needed him. At that moment, all I wanted was to feel more of him inside me, have him fill me.

I felt like this was the moment. If I don't ask Liam now, I probably never would. If I didn't want him now, why am I even allowing this to happen? I wanted him. He excited me like no one had done since Andy. He had knocked down the defences I'd built to keep myself alone. Keep me in my grief and guilt. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted to feel desired again.

"Fuck me?" I asked. The words just tumbled out. I knew at that moment I would beg if I had to. "Please, Liam, I want you to fuck me."

I wasn't sure if Liam heard me. He increased his attention, and I felt the pressure building. His hand gripped my arse, his fingers digging into my cheeks as he pulled me closer to him. The short rough hair on his cheeks and chin tickled against my thighs. My legs buckled. I couldn't stand up anymore. He held me there while I panted and moaned, seeking release.

I felt my climax arrive like a bolt of lightning. It was sudden and intense. My body contracted as waves of pleasure exploded over me. Short, wordless shouts came from my mouth until it was over. I collapsed onto the bed.

I laid there a while, eyes closed, trying to catch my breath. Liam was shuffling around and heard his belt come undone. I felt the bed dip, and I opened my eyes to find Liam naked, climbing up the bed until his face was above mine.

Liam supported some of his weight with one hand and laid on me, our whole bodies skin to skin. He was warm to touch, and he almost felt hot to my now cooled skin.

"Ask me again," Liam said.

Part 8

#original story #original fiction #romantic story

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