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flowerandblood · 1 year

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Just this one time (Oneshot)

[modern! • Aemond x sexworker! • female ]

[warnings: sex content, smut, sexwork, anxiety, fluff]

[description: The girl is forced by her life situation to set up a profile on a portal, that is used by sex workers to attract clients. One of them, a young, enigmatic man, wants more than her pictures (Anon Request). Complexes, smut, anxiety, fluff.]

This story has a continuation in another Oneshot (Just one more time), but it can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

_____

She had never been so distraught in her life as that evening, when her mother called her to say that their father was in the hospital. Like every week, he went out to drink with friends and play cards. On his way home he didn't look at the road and was hit by a car. He had to undergo surgery which he fortunately survived, his prognosis was good.

The nightmare began when the hospital realized what neither she nor her mother knew - that her father had been unemployed for several months and was not covered by health insurance. Her mother called her crying, saying that such a gigantic sum was beyond her financial means. She worked as a school teacher and tutored. She asked her if she had any savings.

She worked part-time in a bookstore and while she was studying, paying for her room and food, she had little money. She had just gotten paid and had given her mother everything she had. Not only was it not enough, but she had no idea how she was going to make it through her paycheck and pay all the bills. She cried all night that day and didn't sleep a wink.

The next day she spent all her classes thinking hard about what to do. She called her boss, but he told her that even if he wanted to, he couldn't suddenly hire her full-time. He could have paid her a week's wages sooner, but it wouldn't have changed much. She needed a large cash injection quickly. During one of the lectures she suddenly glanced at one of the girls in her year and froze.

She once heard her talk about a website where she sold her photos and videos. She dated rich men on cams, sent them her clothes and panties, and even arranged for them to have sex in her apartment.

She said it wasn't so bad at all, she had a lot of money quickly and she didn't worry about anything. She cared about her anonymity and carefully selected her clients.

She covered her face with her hands, terrified of what she was thinking. She had had sex with her previous boyfriends, but it was always in a relationship, never with a complete stranger, and never for money. When it came to pay that meant she had to satisfy someone, be someone's product to be happy with. She dismissed the thought, knowing she couldn't do it.

When she got home she involuntarily looked at the portal that the girl was talking about. She couldn't see anything without registering.

She sighed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut, not believing what she was doing. A large window opened for her. She was surprised at how many questions she had to answer.

Is she an adult? What nickname does she want? How old is she? What interests her? What is her hobby - sweet photos, videos, maybe meetings or video chat? What kind of men or women, and in what age range, did she want to meet on the portal? What prices for what services?

Once in a while she'd get up from her laptop, pacing the room with her hands on her cheeks, wondering if it was safe, and what if anyone found out. She'd probably die of embarrassment, but each time she sat back down and went back to writing.

No videos. No webcams. No meetings. Just pictures, sweet, innocent, maybe in a light negligee. Men aged 20-35. She didn't want any old, disgusting guys looking at her.

She clicked "register" and her account appeared in front of her on the portal. She could now add more details about herself, what she does, what she likes and dislikes.

She wrote down a few things, including her interests. All that's left to do was post the photos. She sighed softly, went on Pinterest and started looking for aesthetic inspiration. She wasn't going to make pornography out of herself.

She saw plenty of girls with shirts unbuttoned that were too big or in huge sweaters that uncovered their shoulders, in long socks to the middle of the thighs or in delicate, subtle underwear.

It wasn't too bad, she decided, because there was a charm to it and she could crop out the photo, so her face wouldn't be visible. Her whole apartment was decorated by her in a vintage style that she loved and the decor was perfect for the scenery for such photos.

She sighed heavily and looked into her closet. She put on her warm, light wool socks to the middle of her thighs, a soft cream sweater that reached her buttocks, and delicate panties. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, so her breasts were slightly visible.

She thought she looked cute. She let down her long, slightly wavy hair and sat on the floor in front of her large mirror. Behind her was her beautiful bed and a lovely white chest of drawers, a soft white rug underneath.

She made herself comfortable, leaning back against the bed, her legs bent at the knees in front of her covering what was between her thighs. She held the phone up so that it covered her face and took a picture.

She cropped it, added a filter to increase the saturation and make the whole thing a little more pastel, and it was ready. She looked again to see if there were any photos or other objects in the photo that might have identified her, but she couldn't find anything. She took a few more photos in similar outfits, uploaded them to her laptop and added them with a heavy heart, setting one of them as her profile picture.

She also fixed the price for taking pictures on request. She pointed out that there is no nudity or strange positions involved. She thought she was so demanding and restrictive that no one would want anything from her anyway. Tired and discouraged by what she had done, she simply went to sleep.

She woke up in the morning, rubbed her eyes and got up to drink water. She sat down with her glass and opened her laptop, wanting to see if anything had happened to her account. She almost choked when she saw that she had thirty new notifications. She was terrified and for a moment afraid to click on it. She finally did and started reading.

Several men paid her fixed sum for similar photos she posted. They wrote that she is gorgeous, that they would like a photo of her lying down and wearing different clothes, but leave it to her how she will solve it. She swallowed loudly as she saw several messages suggesting meeting up for sex, sending someone her socks or underwear. She paused on the last message and for a moment thought she had imagined it.

Someone had sent her more than she agreed for a single photo. He was the only one who wrote nothing. She clicked on his account out of curiosity. His profile picture was a black square. All it said was 25 years old, male. In the place where you could insert your short description it said: "Don't write to me."

She blinked, wondering what that was supposed to mean, and whether it meant that the women he orders from wouldn't write to him. She wanted to do it to tell him that he had transferred too much money to her, but she assumed that if he wrote that, then maybe he did it intentionally.

As soon as she got home after class she began to think about how to dress for the new photos. For the men who sent her the amount she asked for she wore a long T-shirt, also without a bra, the same long socks and underwear. This time she lay down on the carpet, lifted her calves slightly while lying on her stomach. She covered her face with her phone again as she took the picture.

She thought that she would come up with something special for the man who paid her more. She took her thin, translucent white robe and tied it around her waist, so that her shoulders were bare. Her legs were bare too.

She took the flowers she had bought that day in one hand, so that they covered her breasts. When she checked herself in the camera, she thought that she looked like some sensual, baroque painting. She took a photo, applied the same filters as before, and sent him the photo first.

Then she changed into normal clothes and started writing one of the essays. She felt terrible, but at the same time felt some kind of relief when she saw that the money had actually flowed into her account. She figured a few weeks and she'd be able to get the rest of the money she needed.

She saw that a dot had appeared on the app card, indicating that there was a new notification. She clicked there curiously, unfolded the list, and froze.

The man who paid more for her picture ordered another one, paying three times as much as before. Again, he didn't write anything to her. No additional requirements.

She pursed her lips as she felt her heart pounding. She thought he must be a very rich, bored young man. Or one that has no success with women. She had to appreciate that he wasn't asking her to do any perverted things.

She decided that since he was paying her so much, she had to make an effort. She might not have to take pictures for anyone else, and his assignments alone would do the trick. She pondered for half an hour what to do. She grabbed the fabric of the same bathrobe, putting it on similarly.

Now she held a beautiful ornate fan in her hand, beads of sweat adorned her bare arms becasue it was hot outside. She thought she'd zoom in on them, capturing her bare arms, the slightly exposed portion of her breast, her hand with the fan, and the portion of her mouth with her dark hair falling behind her.

After applying filters, she thought that there is sensuality, lightness and promise in this photo. If she were a man, she would like to receive such photos from her woman herself. She uploaded the photo to her laptop and sent it to him. She was very curious to see if he would like it.

She jumped in seat when she saw a message from him fifteen minutes later.

Abyss: "You surprise me."

She blinked at the screen in disbelief. She thought he never texted anyone. Apparently, that didn't work when he was talking to someone himself. For a moment she didn't know what to do. He fell from the sky and she couldn't lose him.

Ophelia: "I hope that's a compliment."

She replied briefly. No cute emoticons, no subtext, no familiarity. He didn't reply for a moment, and she wondered if she should add anything. She shuddered, when she suddenly got a notification that she had received a reply from him.

Abyss: "Why are you doing this? Pictures, I mean."

His question chilled her. She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding. What was she supposed to write to him? Even if she told him the truth, would he believe her?

There must have been plenty of girls who wrote, that they needed money because of an emergency, not because that was how they made a living. However, she decided that his money was saving her skin and he deserved her to tell him the truth.

Ophelia: "My father had no insurance at the time he had the accident. Neither my mother nor I knew he had lost his job. I work part-time, but it's not enough. And here I am."

She read her answer a few more times and, with a trembling hand, clicked "send". She felt like she was using him. As if they objectified each other. She pursed her lips at the thought. She drew in a quick breath when he texted back after a few minutes.

Abyss: Will he make it?

For some reason, she smiled at the screen. She knew she couldn't allow anyone to talk too privately and imagine who knows what, but she found his concern and manner to be matter-of-fact and kind. She appreciated it, and she tought that she kind of needed it right now.

Ophelia: Yes, thank you, it's very kind of you to ask.

Just a few minutes later, another message arrived.

Abyss: How far are you from the full sum?

She swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her body. For some reason she felt insecure and trapped. She finally wrote him the exact number without adding anything else.

Abyss: I'll pay the full amount if you agree to go to bed with me. On your terms.

She looked at his message and after a while she started to cry. She covered her face with her hands and shook her head, wondering what she was doing.

She felt it was all wrong, terrible, that she didn't want to do it. On the other hand, she told herself that just this once would be enough, that it would be over and she wouldn't have to do anything else.

Just this one time.

She sobbed loudly, texting him back that she agreed.

She wanted him to come to her right away the next day. She couldn't mentally take it any longer, she wanted it to be over. She thought that no matter what he looked like she would be nice to him and just give him what he wanted.

She put on a dress with tiny yellow flowers that fastened at the front, so that it was easy to take off. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties underneath.

She didn't see the point in it.

She hid a condom in one of the pockets - she wasn't going to catch anything from him. She was taking birth control pills, but preferred extra protection.

She hasn't eaten anything since morning. She was sick and pale. She took a shower, sprayed on her perfume, dried and combed her long hair. She hid in her apartment all the photos and objects that could reveal her name, as well as those of her family and friends.

She heard a soft knock on her door two minutes before the appointed time. She tried to control the shaking of her body and the fear she felt. She walked over to the door, rested her forehead against it, and exhaled softly, opening the lock. She opened it and froze.

This was not how she imagined him.

He was smoking a cigarette in the stairwell, measuring her up and down. He was wearing a black T-shirt, black pants and a black leather jacket. His blond hair was partly tied back, and he looked like a pirate with an eyepatch. She saw a long scar running down his left cheek. She wondered if the lack of an eye was the reason he preferred this way of getting close to women.

Despite the scars, she thought he was a very handsome, athletic man. He raised an eyebrow, and she remembered who she was and what she was supposed to do. She stepped aside quickly, opening the door with a crack, inviting him inside. He walked in unhurriedly, as if entering a friend's apartment.

He took off his shoes while continuing to smoke. He went deeper into the apartment, as if to check that there were no third parties, and that nothing suspicious was going on. He stubbed out his cigarette in her sink.

He glanced at her finally, his face stony, his gaze intense. She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding wildly, her legs trembling slightly. They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"Will you drink something?" She asked softly, her voice trembling. His gaze softened at the sound of her voice.

"Water, thank you." He spoke calmly, his voice low and sonorous, almost purring. She felt shivers go through her.

She nodded and, without looking at him, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a clean glass and poured water into it. She handed it to him, then took a few sips from her own glass, feeling her throat go dry.

He put down his half-empty glass with a loud clatter, and looked at her meaningfully, leaning against the doorframe. She swallowed hard and set her cup down as well. She smiled warmly at him and walked past him, glancing at him, nodding for him to follow her.

They went into the room where her bed stood. The man looked around, his attention drawn to the books on her shelf. He took out some of them, looked through them, and put them back. She looked at him and wondered if she should start a conversation with him. He didn't seem like the kind of person who liked to talk about nothing, she decided.

"Here?" He asked dispassionately, and she shivered. She felt herself blush with embarrassment. She was terrified.

"Yes." She said softly, lowering her lashes. He looked at her over his shoulder.

"Is this your first time?" He asked uncertainly.

She swallowed hard and shook her head.

"Good." He said calmly and took off his leather jacket, placing it gently on the bed.

He finally sat on it, leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his thighs. He looked at her intensely, his gaze roaming her body from top to bottom. She lowered her lashes, feeling his gaze burn her.

"I won't hurt you. Don't be afraid. Do it as you see fit." He said low, looking at her calmly, his gaze black. She felt subcutaneously that he wanted her and was surprised to find, that it did not repulse her.

Maybe it was because he hadn't groped her since he walked in and let her decide what it would look like.

She approached him slowly, her legs as soft as gummies. She pursed her lips, swallowing softly.

"Can I sit on your lap?" She asked quietly, her voice trembling slightly, her face red with shame.

He grunted in acknowledgment and removed his hands, straightening up a bit as he looked at her searchingly. She straddled him, her whole body trembling. He placed his large hand on her back and stroked it steadily, their faces inches apart.

"Easy. Take your time." He spoke softly. She nodded and smiled gratefully at him. She saw his mouth part slightly at the sight, and he swallowed hard himself. She placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. She raised a hand tentatively, her fingertips close to his scarred cheek.

"Can I touch you here?" She asked softly, almost in a whisper. He just nodded his head, looking away.

Her fingers traced lightly over his skin, exploring the slight indentations where there must once have been deep wounds. She wondered if those scars were the reason for his complexes and hiding on this portal. Looking at him closely, she thought that he had an incredibly beautiful, interesting face.

He closed his eye, feeling her touch. The tips of her fingers traced further, touching his chin, cheek, mouth. She felt a shiver run through him at her touch. He finally pressed his cheek against the inside of her hand, kissing her skin gently. There was something touching about the gesture, some acknowledgment that he wanted to show her respect.

She finally took his face in both her hands and leaned over him. Her lips brushed his invitingly, gently, teasing him slightly. She heard him exhale softly, his hand tightening on the fabric of her dress. His lips parted invitingly.

She caressed his lips with hers, sucking them gently, running her wet, fleshy skin over them. He moaned softly, and she shivered at the sound. Startled, she found herself getting wetter between her thighs, her nipples hardened and showing through the fabric of her dress.

He smelled of cigarettes and strong perfume, his scent made her head spin. She shivered as she felt him return her kisses timidly, his other hand grabbing her cheek gently, pulling her closer. They began to caress and suck each other's lips, tilting their heads alternately with the wet, sticky sound of their saliva, panting into each other's mouths.

Her hand slid into his soft hair, massaging his neck, and he grunted in delight. He continued to kiss her, his lips pressing greedily against hers, demanding more. She involuntarily moved closer to him. They both moaned into each other's mouths as she brushed against his hard manhood, throbbing in his pants.

"Fuck." He whispered into her mouth, his hand from her back slid down to her buttocks. He looked at her in shock when he realized she wasn't wearing any panties underneath. They both moaned helplessly as his large hand squeezed her firm skin, forcing her to speed up.

She didn't know what was happening to her, but she was full of lust and arousal. She thought with surprise that she wanted this. She leaned over him, pressing his face to hers, her tongue timidly passing over his lips.

He sighed loudly in surprise, his tongue coming out to meet hers. They were both panting, teasing the tips of their tongues and licking like two kittens. His hips pressed against the space between her thighs, making her moan softly.

Her hands went to the buttons of her dress. She began to undo them slowly from the top, their tongues dancing with each other with a wet, sticky sound. He gave her a blurry look as he saw her slip her dress off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to him.

He stared at her chest with awe and wonder. He pressed his face to the space between her breasts, kissing her top to bottom. His caresses made her feel her insides clench around nothing, her wetness running in thin rivulets down her thighs, her hips rubbing against him. She could feel him completely hard now, throbbing intensely beneath her.

A loud, unexpected moan escaped her lips as he took one of her breasts in his hand and began sucking on her nipple. She pressed his face to her chest, his hand tightening on her buttock, forcing her to speed up. They were both panting loudly, his tongue teasing and licking each of her nipples in turn.

"Feels good?" He asked in delight, his voice trembling slightly. She swallowed hard at his question.

"Y-yes, God, it feels so good" She mumbled, her hands fisted in his hair, pressing him against her breasts.

She quickly slid them down to his pants and began undoing his belt. He moved away from her and leaned back, giving her better access, helping her by undoing his button and fly. She started to reach into her pocket for a condom, but he pulled out his own, putting it on quickly and nimbly.

She rose quickly, panting softly, and pressed her forehead against his, lowering herself slightly. When she felt his tip inside her, they both moaned loudly into each other's mouths. She began to tease him by falling lightly on top of him and rising again, not pushing him inside. He writhed beneath her, thirsty and desperate.

They both leaned back and were speechless as they felt him enter her. He was so big that he barely fit in. She began to slowly ride him, panting loudly, pushing him deeper and deeper into herself. He leaned back slightly, holding her ass with one hand, staring at her helplessly, panting with her, his thighs responding to her every move with a thrust.

"You're so big." She sobbed in pleasure, pushing him all the way in, and he moaned loudly as he felt it. She leaned against his shoulders and sped up, rubbing against him where she felt the greatest pleasure, her walls pressing greedily against his cock, making him barely able to breathe.

"Fuck, you're so tight" He gasped, moving faster and more aggressively inside her, and she moaned loudly at his every move.

He finally grabbed her buttocks and turned her suddenly on her back, spreading her thighs in front of him and began to fuck her quickly and brutally, his thighs slapping again and again with a wet, sticky sound against her buttocks.

She moaned loudly, leaning back, she had never had sex with someone this intense before, beads of sweat streaming down her body, her hips responding to his every thrust. She sobbed helplessly as she felt his thumb on her clit, massaging it in a circular, intense motion, making the tension inside her unbearable.

"So wet for me. Do you like it when I touch you like that? Shall I stop?" He purred in delight, his voice trembling slightly, she felt that they were both on the verge of orgasm.

Her hands clenched the sheets around her head, her hips responding greedily to his loud, wet thrusts, filling her to the brim, rubbing where she needed it.

"No, please, touch me, touch me there" She sobbed helplessly, spreading her thighs wider for him, her nipples sticking out, hard with desire.

He moaned low hearing her words. His thumb began to caress her more intensely, pumping his cock hard into her with the wet sounds of their shared fluids trickling down their thighs. She leaned back heavily, her lips parted in pleasure.

"Oh God, I'm gonna come, please, please, please!" She sputtered, moaning loudly. She bent back suddenly, her body went through a wave of hot pleasure, moaned loudly and helplessly, she had never experienced such an orgasm before.

She felt his body begin to tremble, her insides pressing against him in waves, wanting to hold him in, he began to moan loudly along with her.

"Fuck, God, yes" He gasped, coming hard inside her, thrusting into her all the time, unable to stop.

They writhed under each other, breathing heavily, their bodies refusing to let go, clenching on each other. He stared at her half-consciously, beads of his sweat running down his shirt, his hair stuck to his face, his mouth parted. They both looked at each other as if they couldn't believe that this really happened between them.

He swallowed hard and slid out of her as if suddenly remembering who he was. She clenched her thighs, feeling suddenly empty, covering herself with her dress, trembling all over. He slid off the condom, tied it, and laid it on the floor, not knowing what to do with it.

He zipped up his pants as he got out of bed, still breathing fast. He cleared his throat without looking at her, fumbled for something in his trouser pocket. He took out a wad of bills and placed them on her nightstand.

"That's the amount we agreed on." He said lightly, his voice breaking as he said the words.

She shivered all over, feeling the cold fast on her body. She covered her mouth with her hand as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She finally hid her face from him and nodded.

"T-thank you." She said in a shaky voice and drew in a quick breath as she felt her body convulse. She thought he'd just leave, but she heard he didn't move.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked quietly. She looked at him shocked and shook her head, continuing to cry as she buttoned her dress. She felt lonely, dirty, worn out, unowned.

"Don't mind me, forgive me for my behavior." She said quickly, not looking at him, trying to calm her trembling breath. She wiped her wet nose from crying. He was silent for a moment.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked quietly.

She was silent for a moment. Desperately, she shook her head. She heard him swallow hard.

"What do you need?" He asked gently.

She opened her mouth, not believing she meant to say it.

"For you to hug me." She whispered, clenching herself, trembling all over.

She drew in another sharp breath as she heard him return to her bed. She felt his weight against her, saw his black T-shirt and pants, smelled his scent again.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. She snuggled into him like a teddy bear, burying her head into his chest. His hand tangled in her hair, the other caressing her back. She felt his heart pounding. She slowly began to calm down.

She closed her eyes as she felt him kiss her hair tenderly. She thought that she could fall asleep in the arms of this man, that she didn't even know. She cleared her throat quietly.

"T-thank you, I'm better now. I won't hold you back any longer." She whispered, but he only grunted at her words and kissed her hair again.

"Hold me for as long as you want."

_____

Oneshot written as Anon Request. I had a lot of fun writing this and I really like the end result. Let me know what you think. 💖

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno

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fatkish · 2 months

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I too have ADHD and I was wondering if you have any shoto x ADHD reader headcannons you’d be willing to share? Thanks a bunch and have a wonderful day 😘

Shoto x ADHD Reader

He has saved the links to many reputable websites that sell fidgets of all sorts

Literally has a designated pocket for your fidgets in his bag that way you always have something to fidget with

Uses his dad’s money to buy whatever you need

If you have trouble focusing in class then he’ll take notes and take the time to tutor you and help you understand

If you’re the kind of ADHD that can’t sit still then he’ll get an exercise bike pedal that can go underneath your desk

He’ll always help redirect your focus to whatever it needs to be on

He’s extremely patient and never gets mad when you’re struggling

If you take medication then he’ll always check to make sure you took it/them

He has study sessions at his house

His dad might not approve of you but that’s all the more reason to do it

If you forgot your lunch don’t worry, you can have some of his or he’ll buy you some

He enjoys taking care of you and helping you because he didn’t get to do a lot of that domestic stuff growing up

He’s always keeping an eye on you and making sure you don’t fall behind on your studies

He researches focusing techniques and tools so you can focus when you need it

If you forget to take your meds and go to school he’ll take you to the nurses office and make sure you’re okay before he goes to class

He’ll walk you home or have his driver drive you so that you don’t get lost since he worries you’ll chase a butterfly and get lost and not be able to find your way home

He has an extra phone charger that is the same type as your phone so he can charge yours in case you forgot yours

If you forget your homework at home, don’t worry, he’s prepared with a copy of your homework since you guys normally do it together

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #adhd reader #shoto x reader

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daddyy333 · 1 year

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Sensitive | Lo’ak x fem!omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.9k

warnings: readers very insecure and shy, reader was technically bullied as a kid, ?

summary: Y/n was always told she was overdramatic and sensitive growing up, so she kept quiet and didn’t tell anyone when something bothered her. Now, watching her mate potentially fall in love with another woman, she’s too worried about overreacting and refuses to say anything until eventually she can’t handle it anymore.

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“It’s just a joke”

“You’re too sensitive”

“It doesn’t even matter”

“Why do you care so much?”

“You’re overreacting”

Your whole life, you’ve always been sensitive. It wasn’t hard to bring you down or upset you. You were always overthinking every little thing, analyzing every word a person said and the way they said it. You wished you were different, every single day you tried to stop caring so much but you couldn’t help it.

By the time you turned 18, you were quieter than a mouse. You only talked around your few friends, and even then you didn’t say too much in fear of seeming too sensitive. When something bothered you, you just stayed quiet and kept it to yourself.

Lo’ak thought you were just shy. You were really quiet all the time, but he was so attracted to you; he just had to get to know you. You really loved Lo’ak, more than anything on Pandora. He was so nice to you, and you trusted him and opened up to him a little, and he still accepted you fully.

You didn’t tell him everything though, you didn’t want to ruin something so good. You’d be heartbroken if Lo’ak left you so you made sure you were careful with what you said and how you reacted.

You mated before Eywa and it was a beautiful experience. You both took your time learning each other's bodies and making each other feel good. You were close to opening up all the way after that night, but you were still worried he wouldn’t accept you and all your flaws.

2 years later, you had to leave the forest and it terrfied you. You couldn’t help it then, you burst into tears and cried through it all. The forest was your home. This was where you felt safest. This was where you fell in love, where you were meant to be.

Lo’ak seemed to understand your worries though, and you were thankful. He held you as you cried, wiping your tears and helping you say goodbye to everyone. He felt bad when he could see tears flowing down your face as you rode your ikrans out of the forest.

You made it the Metkayina’s territory and naturally they got defensive and began to try and intimidate you, and the worst part was that it worked. Lo’ak could feel you shaking and he felt bad, wrapping his tail around your thigh and trying to comfort you as best he could.

You noticed Lo’ak look over at a young woman, but he quickly returned his attention to Olo’eyktan and Tsahík again. You looked over at her, ears turned down as you realized how much prettier she was than you.

You tried to ignore it, but when she was one of the Na’vi meant to tutor you guys, it made it hard to forget about it. You were worried Lo’ak would fall for her instead. She was very very pretty, and her voice was smooth and melodic, with the most gorgeous eyes ever too.

Lo’ak was attached to you at the hip the first few weeks. It helped reassure you that he was yours, always. He would always have an around wrapped around you or his fingers intertwined with yours, or at the very least have his tail caressing your back or wrapped around your leg or arms.

But he slowly started getting closer to Tsireya. He’d go sit next to her during lessons and you always sat next to him so you’d follow, and over time you could see the two of them giggling together whenever you took breaks, and she was so touchy in ways she wasn’t with everyone else. At least that’s how it seemed.

You were honestly a little heartbroken, you really hoped he wasn’t like that. You don’t know what you’d do if he asked for a second wife. It’d kill you. The worst part, she’s been trying to be friends with you.

You don’t want to be mean, so you indulge in whatever it is she wants. You’re actually quite close, you tell her lots of things and she actually helps you learn the way of the Metkayina quite a lot. It seems like she tries to talk about Lo’ak a lot, which sucks because it only convinces you more and more that they’re going to get involved any day now.

Lo’ak seems a little distant as time goes on. He’s not making love to you a lot, leaving you lying awake in the late hours of the night trying to ignore your arousal, even with your mate right next to you. He only really makes love to you when your in heat or when he is in rut, but it’s always rough and not as sweet because it’s the only way to relieve the pain.

He also sits with Tsireya a lot at dinner. Or he’ll tell her to come sit with you guys. You come close to snapping and telling him just how much it’s bothering you countless times but you don’t want to risk being seen as dramatic.

You find out you’re pregnant and initially you were overjoyed, excited to become a mother and forever grateful to Eywa for this gift. But then your heart sinks. How would Lo’ak react? You were worried about everything now. Would he still love you after all the changes your body was about to go through? Would he be even more distant?

When you told him he nearly screamed, picking you up and jumping around out of pure excitement. He threw you over his shoulder, making you scream as he ran out to the main gathering place for the clan and said “I’m going to be a father!”

The surrounding people laughed and congratulated you guys, and when his family came out, he ran to them and said “you’re going to be grandparents!” And instantly had Neytiri sobbing. He finally put you down and you groaned, nauseous from all the movement.

You were less worried realizing how excited he was, and it seemed like things got better after that. He was always taking you on dates, rubbing your bump and talking to the baby constantly, helping you through your morning sickness when he could, and he was always hunting and bringing you your favorite foods to keep you strong and healthy.

You concluded that maybe he was a bit distant the last few months, but you’d be okay now that you were about to become parents and he was so present now. Obviously he still spent time with Tsireya, which you didn’t mind, but every now and then you had your doubts.

He took you on a date night, preparing a sweet dish for you since all you wanted to eat were sweet things and took you swimming with Payakan, telling him how the baby was kicking now and showing off your bump. You rolled your eyes playfully at Lo’ak, he was convinced that your bump got bigger every single day.

Payakan let you guys rest on his back and watch the stars until you got tired and fell asleep cuddled in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He fell asleep not that long after, keeping his hand on your bump to hopefully soothe your very active baby and keep it from kicking you all night.

When he woke up, you were still sleeping peacefully, being spooned by him as you mumbled softly in your sleep. He smiled to himself, kissing your head and caressing your bump. He felt the little one move slightly and he couldn’t help it as he blushed a little.

He spent a few minutes with you before he got up and had payakan bring you closer to the island and told him to wake up at sunrise if he wasn’t already there. He got to the island and prepared all his things to hunt for your favorite things right now and spent about 2 hours hunting.

He came back with tons of food, enough to last you a few days and immediately woke up Tsireya to help him cook it the way you liked. He wanted to celebrate today, as it was your 3 year anniversary and you were already halfway through your pregnancy. He was so excited, he almost wanted to leave Tsireya to finish cooking so he could go spend time with you.

You woke up to Payakan moving wildly and you quickly walked over to where he could see you to calm him down. The sun was halfway up, and you realized Lo’ak wasn’t with you anymore. You frowned slightly and noticed Payakan bringing you close to the island so you assumed Lo’ak was already there.

You greeted Jake and Neytiri as you happened to walk past them on the way to your marui pod and of course had to let Tuk talk to the baby for a few minutes and let them feel the little one kick. Tuk was so so so excited for the baby to come, she was asking almost every day if the baby would be here soon.

You eventually continued your journey to your home and when you got closer you heard some laughter and giggling. You recognized Lo’aks laugh but there was someone else’s. You listened for a few more seconds and realized it was Tsireya.

Every insecurity came flooding back and tears filled your eyes. Was this his plan the whole time? To have you sleeping quite literally across the ocean so he could spend time with her in your home.

You opened the flap and she was next to him, holding his hands trying to show him how to grind up these herbs properly. You scoffed and said “Lo’ak…” He immediately looked up and his eyes widened.

He smiled and said “hi, baby! How are you feeling?” “W-Why is she here?” You asked quietly, tears in your eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and said “she’s just helping me make you breakfast. I’m making all your favorites today, and she’s a better cook than I am so I needed her to help me”

You bit your lip and shook your head, you didn’t buy it. No way she was just here to cook and that was it. You turned around and left, going to the spot you and Lo’ak always go to to spend time together alone and uninterrupted.

Tsireya looked up and said “is everything okay?” “I- I-I don’t know. Do you think I should follow her?” He asked and Tsireya thought for a moment, nodding. He quickly thanked her and went out looking for you.

It took him a while to figure out where you’d gone, but once he did he was running as fast as he could. He got to your secret spot and found you crying, leaning against the rock you two always sat by.

“Baby…y/n, hey hey what’s wrong?” He said and you sniffled. You wiped your tears quickly and said “nothing. I’m fine, I’m just overreacting, it's nothing” “no, no honey. Hey, look at me. Talk to me,” he said and you looked up at him, eyes wet and nose tinted pink from crying.

“I just…y-you’ve gotten really close to Tsireya lately and I…I’m worried that- t- t-that uhm…” you said and stopped yourself shaking your head. He sighed and said “you’re worried I’m unfaithful?” You let out a small sob and said “I-it’s not that I don’t trust you- I-I just I can’t help it sometimes. I know it’s stupid! Just go away”

“Why do you think I’m cheating?” He asked, wiping your tears. You let out a shaky breath and said “well y-…you guys are just always really close. You used to always w-want to sit with her at dinner, a-and sometimes you used to choose to be with her instead of me. E-Everytime Tsireya and I talk she wants to know about you and our relationship”

“It’s not what you think, my love. I…I asked Tsireya to get close to you so she could tell me how you were feeling about our relationship and know what to work on to keep you happy. I- I-I know you’re very quiet and shy and I know if I ask you directly you’ll tell me everything is fine so I needed someone else’s help” he said and you gasped slightly, burying your head in your hands.

He pulled you into his arms, stroking your back and letting you cry. “It’s okay, babe. I know you were just worried about our relationship, and you had every right to be. I can understand that it might’ve looked a certain way from the outside” he said and you shook your head.

“I-I was being sensitive and overdramatic like always” you whimpered and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “why do you talk so poorly of yourself, my love? I don’t think that about you, no one does” “That’s not true…” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows yet again.

He pulled you from his chest to look in your eyes and said “who tells you these things?” “I…when I was a child, I-I used to be made fun of a lot. Even m-my parents would make comments. Everyone a-around me felt that way. I just stay quiet now, s-so no one gets upset at me anymore” you said and he shook his head.

He kissed you softly and said “let me see…please?” He grabbed his kuru and you looked up at him nervously. You nodded and grabbed yours, connecting them. You took a deep, shaky breath and he kissed your forehead, caressing your hand with his thumb. You let him see everything, every memory you had of it all.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, tears in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve that. Honey, you aren’t overreacting, you have real concerns and worries and I want you to tell me all of them. Don’t ever shy away from talking to me and telling me how you feel. We are about to become parents, don’t you think we shouldn’t keep secrets?”

You nodded and he smiled sadly, kissing you softly. “Why uhm…w-why…” you said quietly and stopped yourself. He could hear your thoughts through tsaheylu, you were wondering why Tsireya was there making breakfast with him.

He shook his head and said “because today's our 3 year anniversary and you're halfway through growing our little princess” You smiled and sniffled. You chuckled and hugged him.

He rubbed your back and said “you’ll never have to worry about me hurting you. I never will. If I did, I promise you it was never intentional and I’ll apologize every single day for the rest of my life” “you’re a really good husband, you know” you said, sniffling softly.

“I try,” he chuckled. He kissed you a few times, nuzzling his nose against yours. You smiled and said “oel ngati kameie, ma muntxatan” “oel ngati kameie” he said and nuzzled his nose against yours once more.

You giggled and said “you know, the baby is realllly hungry” “is she?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“We do not know if it is a girl yet,” you said and he chuckled. He rubbed your bump and said “I just know it is. She’s my little princess. And you’re my queen” “what's uhm…what’s a queen again?” You asked and he chuckled.

You still forgot human concepts here and there which he found adorable. “Like an Earth Tsahík. But way less cool” he said and you nodded, giggling. He stood up and he held his hand out to help you up.

He brought you back to your pod and Tsireya looked up and noticed your slightly reddened nose and cheeks and your still slightly teary eyes. “Oh…oh my, are you okay? Is it the baby? Is something wrong? We should get you to my mother” she said and you shook your head.

“I’m okay, Reya. The baby’s okay too. See?” You said and placed her hand on your stomach where they were kicking softly. You hugged her and she gasped a little, looking at Lo’ak as she hugged you back.

Lo’ak waved his hand dismissively and then gave a thumbs up. She rubbed your back and said “here, have some breakfast. I hope you like it” “mmm, you guys better get some while you can because it’s not gonna be here for long” you said and chuckled to yourself.

Lo’ak smiled at you as you made yourself a place and said “she was just worried that I was unfaithful because of how much time we spend together” They both giggled quietly to each other.

“I should’ve known,” she said and sighed. He shook his head and said “no, no its okay. As much as I wish she didn’t feel that way for so long, some good things came out of it” “like what?” Tsireya asked. Lo’ak bit his lip in thought and said “it’s kind of between us,”

“Ah, I see. Well, take good care of her and write out instructions for lunch and dinner for you while you eat” she said and patted his shoulder, quickly leaving the pod. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

You hummed and held a piece of fruit behind you for him to eat. “Come on, let’s eat on the shore” he said and you brought your plate out with you as he dragged you out of the pod, forcing you to sit in between his legs as you both watched the sun fully rise and relaxed together.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @goddesslilithmoriarty

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#avatar #avatar 2 movie #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #lo’ak x omaticaya!reader #lo’ak sully #lo’ak oneshot #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak fic #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak fluff #lo’ak x you #lo’ak sully x reader #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x pregnant!reader

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kelcemenow · 1 year

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Touchdown - Chapter 18.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1629

Warnings All fluff, no worries here!

CHAPTER 17.

CHAPTER 18.

You woke up early to the feeling of Travis stroking your back. You continued to lie there, face down on the bed as your eyes fluttered open, holding on to the relaxing sensation for a while longer. You eventually lifted your head and turned it towards him. He was sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone with his free hand.

He glanced down at you, “Good morning, gorgeous.”

You yawned, “What time is it?”

“About 7. I have to go to practice soon but I’ll be back later for dinner with Pat and Brittany.”

You rubbed your eyes and stretched yourself over onto your back, shuffling so that your head was resting on his chest. Your eyes drifted closed again as the gentle rise and fall of Travis’ chest rocked you into a doze.

“Have you spoken to work?” His voice croaked with tiredness.

You sighed, “Not yet. I don’t know what to do, really. But what I do know is that working at the show isn’t my dream. It never has been.”

“What is your dream?”

You paused for a moment, “When I was in college, we had to do a presentation on what our ultimate ‘dream’ was. I really struggled with it and my presentation was ‘disjointed’ according to my tutor.”

Travis tutted.

“But he was right, it was. Because I didn’t know what my dream was. That’s why I ended up doing journalism. I was good at writing and becoming on author seemed like the obvious but scary option, so I chose journalism.” You cleared your throat, “And then when I got to University, I realised that editing and creating a brand was my passion. We had to do a module on producing a website for a fictional brand, writing copy and making marketing material. I loved it. And I did really well. But there were no jobs for that. So, I took the job at the newspaper.”

“You could do that, baby. Build an empire.”

You took a deep breath, “I’d love to. You know, work with a company to dominate their field.”

Travis hummed and the vibration from his chest tickled your ears. You both laid there for a minute or so, relaxing into each other and feeling the warm morning sun on your skin.

“I want us to be together.”

“We’re together right now.” You said with a smile, sleepily.

“No. I mean as a couple.”

You opened your eyes and craned your neck to look up at him.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You quickly scrambled yourself around to face him. His expression was unchanged; kind and caring, staring at you with his creased eyes in a soft smile.

“What?” You breathed.

He laughed, “You heard me.”

You kept your eyes locked on his, almost waiting for his next words. When he stayed silent, you blinked rapidly and shook your head, “Travis, I live on the other side of the world.”

“Not quite, but what’s your point?”

“I…we…I mean, we wouldn’t see each other very often.”

He shuffled in the bed, “Look. You said yourself, you can work from virtually wherever you are in the world. I know I can’t come to you very much but you can come here whenever you like.”

There was an awkward pause as you thought about what he was saying.

“Y/N…you make me happy…so happy. I like having you around. And I want you on my arm at events and parties and everything else.”

You frowned, “And there’s the problem Travis, with my job, I can’t be seen as biased.”

He looked deflated, “Yeah, I know.” He pulled you in closer, “I just want you to be mine.”

You reached up to kiss him softly, “I am yours. Let me get home and speak to Richard.”

Travis looked away out of the window.

“Hey, look at me.” You moved his face so that he was looking at you, “I want nothing more than to be watching you score a touchdown and to scream ‘that’s my man!’. I can’t wait to be your date to your charity events and to go for lunch with your Mum and come to family barbeques. But I need to sort some stuff out first. Okay?”

He smiled, “Yeah I know, I know.”

“Now, get that fine ass out of bed and to practice!”

______________________________________________________________

The Mahomes’ house was contemporary and stunningly set in amongst a thick of trees and shrubbery. Travis parked the car and quickly got out to open the passenger side door for you. You stepped out with your black stilettoed feet and smoothed out your deep green satin dress. It had a haltered neckline that showed of your shoulders, and the dress fell in an a-line style, with a subtle slit on the left side.

Travis’ eyes ran up and down your body, “Did I tell you earlier that you looked amazing?”

You placed your hand on his chest, “Yes, you did dear.” You glanced at him, dressed smartly in dark grey trousers and a simple white shirt that clung to his muscular chest and arms.

He smiled and took your hand in his, closing the door behind you and heading up to the front door. He gave your hand a squeeze before he knocked carefully. After a short moment, the door swung open to Patrick, holding his arms out to you.

“Y/N, hey!” He pulled you in for a hug.

“Hi Patrick!”

He stepped out of the embrace and looked at Travis, grabbing his hand and giving him a hug also.

“Pat, baby!” Travis boomed.

“’Sup, man! Come in, I got a beer ready for you. Y/N what would you like?”

“Umm, whatever! I’m easy!” You followed him into the house.

“I got wine open, if you want some? Brittany!” He called loudly.

“Yeah, sure!”

Brittany appeared to your right, wearing a one-shouldered black and gold midi-length dress. She walked straight to you and held your hands.

“You look amazing, honey!” She gushed as she hugged you close.

“So do you, this is stunning!” You pointed to her dress.

She flipped her curled blonde hair with her hand, “This old thing?” She laughed loudly and led you to the large sofas in the next room, Travis and Patrick following behind.

______________________________________________________________

Dinner was delicious. Brittany had impressed you with her cooking skills, preparing a creamy chicken pasta with homemade garlic bread and you had devoured the lot.

“Brittany, that was gorgeous!” You wiped your mouth with your napkin before reaching for your third glass of wine.

Brittany nodded her head, “Thank you, I do try.”

Patrick reached across the table and kissed his wife's hand, “That’s the reason I married you.”

You laughed as Brittany turned to Patrick with raised eyebrows, “The only reason?”

“Ohhhhh man, rookie mistake!” Travis tapped the table.

Brittany rolled her eyes, “It’s been so nice having you two over. We should do this again, when will you be back?”

You glanced at Travis, “I don’t know. But I will be back!”

“Good, we need to go to a game together soon, Y/N.”

Travis looked at Brittany, “Well, hopefully she’ll be sticking around more often.”

“You asked her?” She squeaked as her eyes widened.

Patrick raised his beer bottle, “Congratulations bro.”

You smiled and lowered your head, “Calm down guys, it’s not official or anything. I need to speak with my boss first…there’s a small chance I could lose my job over this if it gets out.”

Brittany frowned, “What? Why?”

You placed your wine glass down onto the table, “As a journalist, I have to be impartial. If mine and Travis’ relationship goes public before I speak to the office, I could be fired.”

“Really?” Patrick furrowed his brows.

“Yep.” You fiddled with the edge of your napkin, “If I’m honest, this job wasn’t something I wanted to do forever, it was a stopgap if anything. But if I hadn’t have taken it, it wouldn’t have led me to this big guy here.” You reached for the back of Travis’ neck and ran your fingers along the skin.

Travis’ face had a look of realisation and clarity, “So quit?”

Your head jerked back, “What?”

“Quit.”

You laughed, “It’s not that simple. What would I do for work?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Get a job here?”

You pressed your lips together in thought, “You’re mad.”

He turned to you, “You just said yourself that this job wasn’t forever. Why not make a fresh start? Build your empire, create a brand.”

Brittany clapped her hands together, “Oh, this is perfect! I need a new business partner!”

Patrick smiled at Travis as you turned to face Brittany, “What…really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to branch out a bit with my fitness company, we could work together!” Her eyes gleamed at you.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Brittany, I don’t know the first thing about fitness.”

She placed her hand on yours, “But I do. Oh, it would be great! You’ll be incredible at writing the posts and editing the website, making ads and all that good stuff. We can work here during the day; you can work virtually if you want to go back to the UK for anything. Please say yes!”

You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol talking or if Brittany was being serious so you looked to Patrick for clarification. He pressed his lips together and tilted his head to the side. With no help from Pat, you looked to Travis. He winked and sipped from his beer.

You sighed, “Maybe. It all sounds amazing, Brittany, it really does. But I need to see what happens when I get home. I have some stuff to figure out.”

“Think about it.” She looked at you with pleading eyes.

“I will.”

______________________________________________________________

Only two more chapters left! What's going to happen?? Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for the rest of the series or for my future writing!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #travis kelce fic #touchdown series #travis kelce fluff

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clonerightsagenda · 5 months

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Getting Involved Locally

Every time I see a post implying the only two politically relevant actions you can take in America are voting or not voting in federal elections, I tell myself I will make this post, so now I am finally doing it.

As an American, it can be frustrating and dispiriting to feel like we're being held hostage by our politicians while the United States continues to be one of the biggest forces for suffering on a global scale. This post is not about what we can do on that scale but instead suggests that, if you're feeling powerless and depressed about your national/international impact, you can take action on the local level. I got involved with a local activist group a few years ago, and we've been able to tangibly help people in our community, get genuine policy passed, and net some legislative wins. It's much easier to influence a smaller system, and a lot more rewarding than doomscrolling on social media.

Disclaimer: I am an American who lives on the outskirts of a fairly large city. This post reflects my experience and not everything in it may be applicable to yours. Take what is useful and leave the rest.

What's out there?

There are a variety of ways to get involved locally depending on your preferences. I'm going to lump them into a few categories:

Local government. City council, school boards, library boards, etc. Many of these orgs have open meetings and allow public comment. They're often sparsely attended and members are frequently elected by small margins, so they're far more likely to listen to what you have to say than federal legislators. Check out your home's website to see if you can find minutes and agendas to learn what they're discussing and how you can weigh in. Great choice if you want to develop a first name basis nemesishood with a local politician.

Volunteering. If you have low bandwidth and just want someone to tell you what to do, but would like to know your actions immediately benefit real people, volunteering gigs might be for you. Lots of organizations need help! Community kitchens, greenspace cleanups, giving immigrants rides to appointments, phonebanking, tutoring, supporting cultural centers, etc. Find orgs connected to something you're interested in and see what they need.

Organizing. Organizing involves long term work to build groups of people who can push for change. Outside of labor unions, there are tenant unions (renters pushing their landlords for better conditions) and groups organizing around a specific issue. (Off the top of my head, in my area I'm aware of multiple groups organizing around abolition/decarceration, minimum wage, environmental justice, transit, and reproductive justice.) These groups require more commitment, but that also means you'll have more input than showing up to volunteer for a nonprofit a few times a month.

(The group I'm currently involved with is organizing-focused, so if you're curious I'm happy to share more details of what that's like, I just don't want this post to be even longer.)

How can I learn about opportunities?

Word of mouth

Local government websites

Library, college, and community center bulletin boards

Local events (I tabled at a music festival last summer)

Protests and rallies

Local news outlets (might be covering actions, etc.)

Social media

Google (try 'mutual aid' and your location)

Start getting involved. I cannot express how much I've learned about the activist landscape in my city just from joining one org. Between partnerships, solidarity requests, etc., so many groups are now on my radar that weren't before. As I said before, I'm in/near a fairly big city, but you might be surprised by how much is going on where you are!

A note on self-interest

Something we talk about in organizing is self-interest. Why are you passionate about this cause? Why are you in this fight? Identifying your self-interest is important for a few reasons. First, it helps you convince other people to care. Second, it keeps you engaged. If you start volunteering out of a vague sense that you're 'helping', it's much easier to lose interest. If you recognize how winning this fight makes your life better, you're more likely to stick with it. I'm not saying you should only get involved in causes that immediately materially benefit you, but it's worth thinking about your personal stake so that you can return to that when you think 'ugh I don't want to get out of bed for this meeting'. You may have seen the quote credited to Lilla Watson and a group of other Aboriginal Rights activists: "If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together."

In conclusion

This is work. I've spent weekends in campaign retreats and driven 45 minutes across the city to make care packages. I am doing group projects and not even getting paid for it. But when you're frustrated with the state of the world, it's nice to be able to roll up your sleeves and make a visible impact on something you can control. It's also a great way to meet people irl who care about the same things as you and learn ways we can support each other when larger structures let us down.

As yet another American election season draws near with its avalanche of posts about voting, whether you intend to vote or post on tumblr about how much voting sucks or are a long-suffering non-American cursed to always see this shit, I challenge you to take a step* into your community and tackle a problem there. Who knows? You might even help solve it.

*Virtually if necessary. Many orgs try to be accessible. I attend many of my org's meetings on zoom!

#idk if this is actually helpful in any way #I'm happy to talk more about what being in an organizing-focused group has been like for me #also sorry I turned reblogs off bc I did not want this somehow turning into voting discourse

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adbros · 9 months

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30 ways to make real; money from home

Making money online from the comfort of your home has become increasingly accessible with the growth of the internet and digital technologies. In 2023, there are numerous realistic ways to earn money online. Here are 30 ideas to get you started:

1. Freelance Writing: Offer your writing skills on platforms like Upwork or Freelancer to create blog posts, articles, or website content.

2. Content Creation: Start a YouTube channel, podcast, or blog to share your expertise or passion and monetize through ads, sponsorships, and affiliate marketing.

3. Online Surveys and Market Research: Participate in online surveys and market research studies with platforms like Swagbucks or Survey Junkie.

4. Remote Customer Service: Work as a remote customer service representative for companies like Amazon or Apple.

5. Online Tutoring: Teach subjects you're knowledgeable in on platforms like VIPKid or Chegg Tutors.

6. E-commerce: Start an online store using platforms like Shopify, Etsy, or eBay to sell products.

7. Affiliate Marketing: Promote products or services on your blog or social media and earn commissions for sales made through your referral links.

8. Online Courses: Create and sell online courses on platforms like Udemy or Teachable.

9. Remote Data Entry: Find remote data entry jobs on websites like Clickworker or Remote.co.

10. Virtual Assistance: Offer administrative support services to businesses as a virtual assistant.

11. Graphic Design: Use your graphic design skills to create logos, graphics, or websites for clients on platforms like Fiverr.

12. Stock Photography: Sell your photos on stock photography websites like Shutterstock or Adobe Stock.

13. App Development: Develop and sell mobile apps or offer app development services.

14. Social Media Management: Manage social media accounts for businesses looking to enhance their online presence.

15. Dropshipping: Start an e-commerce business without holding inventory by dropshipping products.

16. Online Consultations: Offer consulting services in your area of expertise through video calls.

17. Online Surplus Sales: Sell unused items or collectibles on platforms like eBay or Facebook Marketplace.

18. Online Fitness Coaching: Become an online fitness coach and offer workout plans and guidance.

19. Virtual Events: Host webinars, workshops, or conferences on topics you're knowledgeable about.

20. Podcast Production: Offer podcast editing, production, or consulting services.

21. Remote Transcription: Transcribe audio and video files for clients.

22. Online Translation: Offer translation services if you're proficient in multiple languages.

23. Affiliate Blogging: Create a niche blog with affiliate marketing as the primary revenue source.

24. Online Art Sales: Sell your artwork, crafts, or digital art on platforms like Etsy or Redbubble.

25. Remote Bookkeeping: Offer bookkeeping services for small businesses from home.

26. Digital Marketing: Provide digital marketing services like SEO, PPC, or social media management.

27. Online Gaming: Stream your gaming sessions on platforms like Twitch and monetize through ads and donations.

28. Virtual Assistant Coaching: If you have experience as a VA, offer coaching services to aspiring virtual assistants.

29. Online Research: Conduct research for businesses or individuals in need of specific information.

30. Online Real Estate: Invest in virtual real estate, such as domain names or digital properties, and sell them for a profit.

Remember that success in making money online often requires dedication, patience, and the ability to adapt to changing trends. It's essential to research and choose the opportunities that align with your skills, interests, and long-term goals.

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perfecrttutor123 · 1 year

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romajuliettemai · 5 months

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These Violent Delights B&N Exclusive Story (Romajuliette Christmas Story)

Happy holidays! Here is my gift to you: Roma and Juliette being 15 and happy, which was truly a fleeting time. Because this takes place four years before the events of These Violent Delights, there are no spoilers, but if you haven’t read the book yet, go forth and read the book first, this will always be waiting here even when the holiday season ends!

You can click here to download the short story if you prefer reading in formatted e-book version. If you don’t mind website formatting, then scroll onward!

“The year was 1922, and nothing was impossible.”

Juliette closed her left eye, trying to line up her shot. This was life-or-death. This had everything riding on it: the fate of the day, the fate of her reputation…

She flicked her finger and the marble sped into the circle, colliding against the others with a satisfying clink-clink-clink. For a moment, there was a dizzying array of colors skittering in all directions. Then the red beads settled and the green beads came to a stop by the piece of string, and Juliette scrambled to her feet with a high-pitched squeal.

“Victory,” she crowed, “is mine!”

Roma Montagov rolled his eyes, bending down to collect the marbles. He feigned annoyance, but Juliette caught him trying to suppress his smile.

“Okay, drama queen. It was a game of marbles, not a cage fight.”

“I would win that too.”

Juliette stopped a still-rolling marble with her shoe, and kicked it over to him to help with the tidying efforts. She had struck her last shot so hard that the marbles were scattered everywhere in the alley, one hiding behind a half-rotting trash bag, damp with rainwater. With a grimace, Juliette pushed her dress sleeve up, folding the fur around her wrist up so it wouldn’t get dirtied when she nudged aside the trash, digging into the corner. These alleys were cramped and soggy and vaguely dark, even with the morning sun hovering somewhere in the winter horizon. Nevertheless, it was the place they came to hang around, because it was the place with the least amount of prying eyes.

Juliette finally rolled the marble out, huffing a breath as she stood and nudged it again with her shoe. It was then that a sudden pressure struck against her temple, like something had fallen from the sky. Juliette reared back, blinking in shock as her hand flew to cup her head. By the time she realized it was not the heavy sky pelting miniature rocks at her, but Roma plucking marbles from his palm one by one and shooting them at her with deadly aim, another hit had struck the back of her hand and bounced again to the ground.

“Hey!” she whined.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Juliette dodged the next marble. “Quit it!”

“Make me.”

The sea breeze blew in, salty and cold and wicked. It seemed to liven Roma even further as he grinned. Even at fifteen, he was a better marksman than half the gangsters in the city, but not for any notorious reason. Money simply bought the best tutors and teachers. He was good… but Juliette was better.

She caught the next one he threw, right out of mid-air, and hurled it back at him.

It struck his shoulder. Roma gave a short yell, all the marbles in his hand falling to the ground loudly. The Bund was nearby, making a constant ruckus from the ship workers and crew men as they bellowed and made haste, trying to get home earlier and earlier in the day as the end of the year approached. Juliette didn’t hear Roma emit any other noise of pain after his first yell, but she saw his lips part as he staggered against the wall, his head lolling down.

Juliette blinked. “Ro—”

She cut herself short. It had been a month since they first met by the Bund, a month of coming here to play with marbles, but they had not yet acknowledged who the other person was. There was no doubt that Roma knew—he knew she was Juliette Cai, heir of the Scarlet Gang, heir of the group that was his greatest enemy. All the same, they did not speak it.

“Hey,” Juliette tried again, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

No response. Roma was looking to his feet, his hair fallen into his eyes, hand clutched around his shoulder. She didn’t think she had thrown that hard. What could it be? Paralysis in the nerves? Internal bleeding? The blood feud was going to be awfully happy if she accidentally killed the White Flower heir—

Juliette reached out with her hand. And faster than the blink of an eye, Roma grabbed her wrist, hauling her up against the wall until her back was to it and he had her boxed in, both of her hands pinned above her head. They were pressed close enough that it would be a scandal between any two kids in this city—and even more so with it was the two of them—but Juliette only loosed an irritated breath, vexed to be have been caught out in his charade.

“Still winning that cage fight?” Roma asked cheerily.

“Ugh!” Juliette tried to kick with her feet, but he only side-stepped, avoiding each strike. “You are such a sore loser.”

“It does not look like I am losing.”

“At marbles, you wet blanket.”

Roma laughed, the sound so warm, so all-encompassing that it trembled through his whole body. Juliette couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto her face too—that sudden flood of happiness, rare in a city slick with blood.

“Now look at that.” Roma released one of her hands from his grip, only so his own was free to grasp her chin lightly. “I count this as a victory.”

His touch was soft, and yet she felt it like a divine burning, like taking a drink directly from the sun. Juliette didn’t know what to make of any of that, so she simply wiped off her grin and batted at him with her free hand until he stepped away. There was a sigh in the wind, like the sigh of the world, displeased that this was how Juliette would choose to respond. But there was nothing it could do except blow a strong breeze that whirled around the two, darting through Roma’s shirt collar and ruffling it against the hollow of his neck, darting in and out of the pomade of Juliette’s hair, yanking just one strand loose from her finger waves. The two heirs stood there in stillness, simply looking at one another in curiosity, until the wind died down, and the moment passed.

Juliette picked up one of the fallen marbles. “Shall we play again?”

II.

Roma leaned against the bookshelves, his book resting against his knees. The cold tiling of the floor sunk into his bones, but he didn’t shift around, afraid that if he fidgeted it would make Alisa fidget as well, and she had only just gotten comfortable, reading from the book of world maps that he had picked out for her. With December rolling around and the start of the Western holiday season approaching, their foreign tutors had already stopped coming in to teach lessons. It had left Alisa bored around the house this week, so Roma took it upon himself to start hauling her around the city with him. When Roma was eight, as Alisa was now, he and Benedikt were already running around the borders of White Flower territory, slinking around the corners to investigate where the shootouts were happening. Give it a year or two and he was sure that Alisa was going to stop humoring him and find her own ways to spend an afternoon too.

The library suddenly boomed with sound, ringing with the echo of the heavy front doors slamming closed. Someone had entered, and the library was small enough—only ten or so shelves extending past the librarian’s front desk—that her heels clicked loudly on the marble. Roma could mark her progress as she walked, could mark where she hurried and where she paused, slowing to inspect the chandeliers dangling from the tall ceiling and the little jade statues decorating the hollows of the walls.

The footsteps finally approached the back of the library. Juliette Cai turned around the corner, offering no smile in greeting but instead a click of her tongue and a wink, which was somehow better.

“Hello, darling,” she said.

Roma blinked, heat rushing to his cheeks. A prolonged second passed, his heart pounding in his chest, before he realized with a jolt that Juliette was talking to his little sister, and not him. In fact, Juliette’s attention was only on Alisa, head ducked to coo at the little girl, hand reaching out to pass her a vegetable bun.

“Xièxiè!” Alisa shrieked gleefully, snatching the bag. She ran off immediately, scurrying off like an attic mouse to go eat elsewhere. Alisa never ate in front of people. It was such a strange quirk.

Juliette watched Alisa go with a glint in her eyes, folding her gloved hands in front of her.

“Do you think she’s going to remember in a few years how well I fed her?”

“Only if you keep feeding her,” Roma replied evenly. He was quite impressed that he kept his voice level, setting his book down next to him and calmly gesturing for Juliette to come sit. “She already calls you Bun Girl.”

Juliette snorted, closing the distance between them and dropping onto the floor too, so that she was seated beside Roma but facing him, her knees pulled up and pressed to the shelves instead. She was graceful even with such abrupt movements.

“I offer her a bun three days in a row and suddenly I am Bun Girl.”

“Well”—Roma couldn’t help himself. He reached out and ran a finger along the edge of her glove, fascinated by the lace hem, the delicate pattern pressed to smooth skin—“shall I give her your real name?”

Juliette tensed. She tried not to show it, tried not to react, but it was the subtlest change in the air, the darting of her eyes to his face, moving from relaxed to alert.

“And what would you tell her?” Juliette asked, testing him.

The truth was that Roma had known from the very first moment. He knew Juliette had discovered it some time later, after their first meeting, perhaps their second. She had made the active decision to come back and keep seeing him, but he had been looking for her from the beginning. Juliette Cai, heir of the Scarlet Gang, the terrible wicked thing with bloodlust in her veins, raised in the West to be as ruthless as a snake. Then he had rolled his marble at her and she had merely raised an eyebrow, a picture of stillness as the rest of the Bund hurried and bustled, and all Roma could think was, Hello, kindred soul.

“Princess of Shanghai, of course.” He withdrew his hand. “Nothing else would be worthy.”

Juliette’s posture eased. Just as Roma was pulling back, she leaned forward, setting her gloved hand on his shoulder. He felt the smoothness of the silk brush against his jacket, as starkly as if it were skin to skin.

“As ruler of this kingdom,” she intoned, “I hereby dub thee Sir Barnacles, Lord of the Garbagelands.”

Roma’s hand came up immediately, laid atop hers. “I heard they were in search of a Lady Barnacles too. Interested?”

Juliette’s lips parted, her eyes narrowing for a beat as she seemed to decide whether or not Roma was joking. A moment passed. Then another. Though the library remained humming around them, though the old antique clocks were ticking to mark time, though the first droplets of rain pressed against the stained windows outside, it was all distant and far away, of another world separate to the one only Roma and Juliette occupied.

Then there was a loud thud behind them and Juliette jumped, cursing under her breath and yanking her hand back. Roma, too, swiveled around, squinting through the gaps of the shelves with his heart at his throat.

“Hello.”

It was only Alisa, who had climbed a shelf and was now waving from the top, having thrown one of the books onto the floor.

“Christ, Alisochka,” Roma chided. “Get down from there, would you?”

Alisa squeed, running along the top. With a soft exhalation, Juliette got to her feet.

“I’ll get her.”

III.

Juliette held a hand up, trying to shield the sun from her eyes. It was mid-December, so it was strange for the day to be so bright, and strange to be rather warm too, the collar of her coat feeling too snug around her neck while she lay on the grass. She would be collecting stains on her clothes and gathering dust in her carefully curled hair, but she had no interest in leaving the park and going back home either. Under the beating sun, she only closed her eyes, hoping that a cloud would come eventually.

Her etiquette tutor had dismissed her for the day. Juliette had learned the lesson at record speed, and there was little use for sitting around the kitchen table wasting more time while Nurse lingered around her asking if she was hungry. It only stressed Nurse out when Juliette was sitting idle—but Juliette liked sitting idle, even if that seemed to be taboo in the Cai mansion, where everything was always moving, where something had to be happening. She liked observing, and thinking, and watching. She liked being a menace too, and driving Nurse up the walls when the woman tried to shove more food into her and all Juliette would do was put her nose in front of the bowl of rice and heave a deep, peaceful inhale.

Poor Nurse.

“What are you smiling about?”

Juliette cracked one eye open, turning her head to the left. The grass under her head bristled, the stout green blades tucking around her cheek. While she was flat on the cold ground, Roma was sitting against the tree, sharpening a pocketknife against a rock. The light hit him perfectly, so that his dark hair glowed slightly golden at the edges.

“The sweet, sweet sound of you sharpening that blade,” Juliette teased, sitting and propping herself up by one hand behind her. She tried to smooth out her hair, but the back was beyond saving. “Like music to my ears.”

Roma quirked a brow. He held the blade up, its edges glinting.

“A gift, then,” Roma said. “For you.”

Juliette rolled her eyes, pushing his hands back before he could give her the pocketknife. “Don’t be ridiculous. Only White Flowers carry pocketknives.”

If Roma hadn’t known about the Scarlet aversion to pocketknives, he didn’t show it. Or perhaps he did know, and had expected to have been declined anyway, offering for the sake of playing pretend.

“Some other day, then,” he said, “I will commission the best dagger in the city instead and carve your name upon it.”

Juliette winced. He had been doing this a lot lately. Inching closer and closer to their identities. Pushing through the bubble between them that contained only Roma and Juliette, letting in the shards and pieces that read Montagov and Cai instead.

A rustle came from afar, interrupting Juliette just as she opened her mouth. She would have tried to change the subject anyway, but her reaction now was genuine, her head whipping to the sound of intrusion. She had passed a construction team around a gazebo earlier, all of them hurrying onto their ladders and passing buckets up. It had looked important from afar, as if something on the gazebo was coming loose, only when Juliette walked closer, she saw that the buckets were filled with tinsel and the construction workers were merely decorating for Christmas. They had enough tinsel among them that the whole park would soon be covered in it, but Juliette didn’t think they would come into this area. It was usually unoccupied, surrounded by a dense cluster of trees. There was a pond that ran somewhere to the west, and a path that curved around the trees. No one came by unless it was a local nanny taking her foreign charges on walks, which was why Roma and Juliette came often, even when the grass was hard with frozen ice.

Juliette strained her ears. Now that she was paying attention, it didn’t sound like Englishmen installing tinsel at all.

“Are they speaking Russian?” Roma asked, listening too.

“It appears so.”

The more she concentrated, the easier it became to decipher the voices, until she realized it wasn’t because she was particularly good at focusing, but because they were getting nearer and nearer. Whoever was coming, they were directly upon the path that would wind into the clearing.

“We need to hide.”

“What?” Roma exclaimed. He folded his pocketknife, putting it away. “There would not be White Flowers on foreign territory like this—”

“I don’t think they are White Flowers.”

Juliette gave him a push without waiting for a response, sending him sprawling to the other side of the tree. Before Roma could complain or yelp in indignation, Juliette flopped right onto him and slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Bolsheviks,” she explained, her eyes wide. “I think they are Bolsheviks.”

They stilled, listening again. It was two men, discussing something about the Communist Party, who had only formed last year. Juliette had heard bits and pieces from within her own house, but certainly not enough to think it any big matter.

Roma squirmed, shaking her hand off his mouth.

“Dorogaya,” he hissed. “Can you let me see?”

Juliette gave him a pointed look, warning him not to be so loud. She relented, however, and eased her elbow off his chest, letting him twist just enough to peer around the other side of the tree. The two men were in view, dressed in Western suits. The style was similar to the sort Roma wore, but where Roma never had his jacket on, the front buttons of his shirts always undone, these men were stiff in their get-ups.

“…Voitinsky? …Comintern… cannot… next week.”

They faded from view, disappearing through the trees.

“Did you catch any complete sentences?” Juliette asked. She wasn’t sure if it was her vocabulary that was lacking, or if they hadn’t spoken very clearly.

“Something about the Party,” Roma replied. “I doubt it is anything we have to worry about.”

“Yes, well…” Juliette bit down on the inside of her cheeks, still running through what they had picked up. “I am worried nonetheless.”

“I know. You shoved me so hard that I am going to bruise.”

Juliette frowned, smacking a hand on Roma’s cheek. It was a light smack—a teasing one, if anything—but Roma still feigned pain, scowling. His hands came to her waist, fit snug around each side.

“I shall throw you off now.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“One, two—”

“No!”

“Three!”

He tightened his grip, his fingers pressing into the thick fabric of her coat. Juliette tensed, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing to be tossed right off and onto the grass, but nothing happened. When a few seconds passed and she still remained sprawled atop him, Juliette opened her eyes slowly, cautiously.

Roma looked entirely too gleeful. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

Juliette smacked him again, this time with both her hands on his chest, and with much more vigor. “Clown.”

IV.

Roma paced the length of his room, the letter scrunched in his hands. It was too sappy. Too orchestrated. Juliette would laugh at him if he gave her this.

With a huff, Roma stopped in the middle of his carpet, glancing at the letter again. It was Christmas Eve today, and the streets outside were abuzz with noise. Though few locals in Shanghai celebrated such a holiday, it was prime time for the foreigners to be throwing money around, and so the shops were pulling out all the stops, the markets slashing down their prices. He could hear the street-level bartering and bantering from here, albeit faintly as he stood surrounded by the uproar of his own thoughts.

Juliette, the letter started with. Though our families are at war, I—

Roma folded the paper up roughly, uncaring when the edges creased. He shoved his hair out of his eyes then turned a fast pivot on his heel, facing his mirror as if the other figure in the glass was Juliette.

“I am in love with you,” he declared.

It was only for practice, yet his face turned red nonetheless. This was ridiculous. He was fifteen. He could be more suave than this. Roma didn’t know much, but he knew that he had fallen too hard and he had fallen too fast. If he didn’t speak now he might never have a chance, because this city was brutal to dazzling things walking its streets, and Juliette was the most dazzling of them all.

“Maybe that is coming on a little too strong,” he muttered under his breath, bracing his two hands on his desk and leaning closer to the mirror. It wasn’t as if Juliette had ever indicated she felt the same. She was the suave one, the one who gazed back coolly anytime he was caught staring at her over a game of cards. She was the one who always held her composure when they smuggled bottles of champagne up to their rooftop meetings while Roma’s world turned bright and glittering, unable to stop gravitating around her.

Roma pushed away from the desk, blowing out a breath.

All the same, Juliette looked at him more fondly than anyone. Not his mother, and certainly not his father—although it wasn’t the sort of fondness that he would expect from his parents either. It was…

A light tapping came on his window. Roma jumped, thinking that it would be Alisa catching him fretting over the letter in his hands. Their bedrooms were high up on the fourth floor of White Flower headquarters, but his sister was prone to climbing the outside of the house, shuffling along a water pipe that ran just under the windows.

However, it was not Alisa sliding along the pipe and tapping to be let in.

It was Juliette.

Roma had to be hallucinating.

“Let me in!” Juliette whispered, her voice muffled by the glass. She wasn’t hanging from the walls like Alisa would, but leaning out from the window of the neighboring building. The apartments were built closely enough that when Roma came to open his window, Juliette clambered onto the windowsill of the other building and climbed over, hopping the space between two buildings easily like she wasn’t minding a gap from four stories high.

“What are you doing here?” Roma asked, flabbergasted. He offered a hand, and Juliette took it, landing softly on his carpet. “I thought we were meeting tomorrow.”

Juliette straightened, tossing her head so that her hat shifted back into place. “I was in the area.”

“You were in the area?” Roma echoed. “And you decided to enter enemy territory?”

Juliette wrinkled her nose. She never liked it when he reminded her that they were supposed to be enemies, as if he was manifesting the thought by speaking it too many times and it might come true one day.

“You don’t want me dropping in?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmm…” Juliette wandered about his room, peering at his bookshelves and his photo frames on the painted white walls. Roma still had not entirely grasped the situation. Juliette. Here. In his house. In his bedroom. Juliette. Here. Now. Plopping onto his bed.

“I am serious,” Roma said. Juliette had collapsed like a marionette doll, her shoes planted on the floor but the rest of her upper body splayed to the side, so he approached her and crouched too, bringing their faces near. “What are you doing here?”

Juliette propped her head up on one hand.

“My house got so loud,” she said quietly. “So many foreigners invited over for their little Christmas party. I could hardly hear myself think.”

Roma breathed a soft sigh, his heart twisting in his chest. Panicked as he was—over Juliette being here, over Juliette in general—he hardly hesitated before reaching out and smoothing a thumb along the curve of her cheek. Juliette immediately held out her arms, squirming against him until her chin settled in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, locking him into an embrace. No matter what they were, no matter what it was between them, they were comfortable enough for this at least: for a safe place to land and a shoulder to lean on.

A few moments passed. Roma wanted to close his eyes and stay like this forever. But, because this was a serious matter:

“There are other quiet spots in the city,” he said against her hair. “Quiet safe spots. The parks. The riverside. Anywhere but the White Flower central building.”

“I know,” Juliette replied, her words equally soft. “Maybe I just missed you.”

Roma was going to start bawling, right here and right now. He wasn’t built for so many feelings.

Fortunately, before he could, Juliette pulled out of his arms, then frowned, tilting her head.

“What is that in your hand?”

Oh, no.

“Nothing,” Roma answered, at the same time that a sudden knock came on his door. The sound drove such alarm into him that he bolted to his feet, all the blood rushing from his head. His vision flashed white for a second as he shoved the letter into his pocket and marched to the door, stepping directly in front of it in case someone was about to open it and find Juliette Cai in his room.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” a voice that sounded like Marshall said. “Come on, we need to go.”

“Go?” Roma echoed. “Go where?”

“Can you open the door?” another voice asked. His cousin, Benedikt. “We are needed downstairs.”

Roma spun fast on his heel.

“I hate to do this,” he whispered to Juliette, “but you must leave.”

Juliette folded her arms. She was feigning annoyance, but there was also amusement sparkling in her eyes, her shoulders too relaxed to have any true irritation. “You will toss me out on the streets?”

“Yes, it is a better option than getting caught here.”

A huff, then Juliette hopping to her feet. “Fine, fine.”

While Roma reached into his wardrobe, finding a new jacket so it didn’t seem like he was keeping his friends outside for no reason, Juliette walked to the windowsill again, clambering up and readying to duck back out.

“Wait! Roma!”

Roma startled. This was the first time he had ever heard his name from her lips. It was beautiful. He never wanted to be called anything else again. Not Roman, not Montagov. Just Roma.

“What?” he asked, his pulse rocketing. Was there something he had forgotten to hide? He didn’t know what he could possibly have in his room that would give away his friendship with the Scarlet heiress, but still he searched in a panic, glancing around at his feet.

“No, come here,” Juliette hissed, still balanced precariously on the window ledge, her hands clutching the frame.

“What?” Roma asked again. He rushed in front of her. “What is it?”

Juliette brightened suddenly with a grin and leaned in, her hand touching his face and her lips pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was so quick he might have imagined it; he would have thought so if the spot weren’t humming with sensation, the imprint of her mouth buzzing like an electric shock.

“You are trying to get me killed,” Roma whispered, breathless.

Juliette didn’t respond—she merely blinked innocently, and then she was gone, hopping the gap again and climbing through the other window. Soon as she disappeared, Roma drew his curtain tight, afraid that he had somehow left evidence all over the glass, and with his heart thudding in his chest, he went to open his bedroom door.

“Okay, we may go,” he said. “I needed my jacket.”

Marshall turned on his heel immediately, starting down the hallway. Benedikt, meanwhile, stared at Roma a second longer.

“What is that on your face?” his cousin asked, frowning.

Roma touched his cheek. It came back smeared with red.

“Blood,” he lied without hesitation.V.

Juliette was freezing cold, but she was the one who had set their meeting place today, so she really only had herself to blame as she hovered around the alley, trying to burrow her neck into the fur of her coat. She had given Roma enough grief yesterday by showing up to his house, she figured she wouldn’t wander around now in case he could not find her when he arrived.

The air was so frigid that it hurt a little to breathe. The foreigners in the concessions were in peak festive mode, so the streets echoed with ringing bells, the nearby churches pealing with sound every hour on the hour. Every storefront she passed had been decorated with wreathes and mistletoes—over-decorated, if you asked her. She hadn’t celebrated Christmas even when she was in New York, so she certainly would not start in Shanghai, even if the whole city seemed to be caught up in the fervor today.

She didn’t think Roma celebrated either, until she turned around and saw him approaching, a gift box in his hands.

“What is that?” Juliette asked, her voice accusatory. “You didn’t say we were getting Christmas gifts! I would have gotten—”

“It is not a Christmas gift,” Roma interrupted before Juliette could start prattling all the various items she knew Roma would like. “It is a birthday gift.”

Juliette blinked. “My birthday was October 15th.”

“Your Lunar calendar birthday. I calculated. It is today, is it not?”

Juliette thought for a second. “Oh. Oh, it is.”

Roma was already opening the gift box for her, revealing a string of pearls. Before Juliette could speak on how beautiful they were, he had already looped them around her neck, pulling the clasp tight and then stepping in front of her again, adjusting her coat so the pearls fell inside, protected from the cold.

Juliette stared at him, her jaw agape. She needed to crane her neck ever so slightly because Roma was taller, but Juliette was sure she would catch up—Nurse kept saying she had yet to hit her growth spurt.

“What?” Roma asked, catching her staring.

“Thank you,” Juliette replied, her eyes wide. “You did not have to—”

“We are not finished celebrating yet.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her along. “Come on, I have just the place.”

Juliette followed wordlessly, at a loss for what to say. They ran through the streets, bursting into laughter when a tram pulled up fast ahead of them and drove into a puddle, almost dousing Roma in dirty water before Juliette yanked him quickly onto the pavement. Another few streets later, a rickshaw driver almost collided with Juliette when she dashed onto the road too fast, but Roma picked her up just in time, plonking her back on the sidewalk while Juliette gave an adrenalin-filled screech.

Eventually, they arrived before a jazz club, but they didn’t enter through the front. Roma eyed the building carefully, then when the patrons around the door all disappeared inside, he tugged on Juliette’s hand again and pulled them around the side, entering through a tinsel-covered back door and trudging up a set of stairs before anyone could see them.

“Are you cold?” Roma asked, holding the rooftop door open for Juliette.

Juliette stepped through, feeling the wind slap against her face. Strangely, she was not. “I’m okay. How did you find this place?”

The walls of the rooftop were low, only raising up to her knees when she wandered over to look out at the city. From below, the music of the jazz club was loud enough that every beat was audible: the twang of the strings and the dizzying rhythm of the piano. This wasn’t like any of the other rooftops they had hidden out on. This one had some strange quality to it: the flooring was a little too clean, the view a little too nice. The city stretched on before them, twinkling with daytime lights as people spilled onto the streets with hot drinks in their hands and others hurried home with shopping bags overfilled in their arms.

“Asked around. Did some research.”

Juliette turned around, arching a brow at Roma. He sounded rather cryptic, but he was grinning.

“Research? Of what kind?”

Roma waved her off, then held his hand out.

“Dance with me?”

A little white fleck settled onto his palm. Juliette looked up, and suddenly found more to be falling from the skies, drifting hazily down on them. It was snowing. It was snowing, and the music beneath their feet roared even louder, not fit for the slow sort of dancing, but Juliette didn’t care. She took Roma’s hand, and let him draw her close.

“You may confess now,” Juliette said. “How long have you been planning this?”

Roma’s grin only grew, letting them sway utterly off-beat with the string tunes and rapid tapping rhythm.

“I missed your October birthday.”

“We hadn’t met yet.”

“Nevertheless. It was inexcusable to let that slide.”

“Meaning…?”

“A while, dear Juliette,” Roma finally answered, his eyes crinkling. “I have been planning a while.”

Juliette felt her breath catch in her throat. She didn’t know how to express the emotion that swept through her. It was only that she looked up at Roma and could feel time shudder to a halt around them. It was only that every time she looked at Roma, she didn’t want to stop looking; she wanted to sit down beside him and bid him never to leave her, to listen to him talk forever and ever and ever.

The music suddenly hit a lull below, the instruments falling quiet. The two of them followed suit, their swaying paused, but Juliette did not step away. Roma brought his hand up from her waist. While Juliette watched him, he brushed a finger along her cheek—slowly, so slowly that Juliette’s heart started to pound, before he showed her the eyelash that he had retrieved, and Juliette sighed a soft “oh,” not sure why she was disappointed.

He had been so close. She had thought…

“Make a wish,” Roma said.

Juliette smiled, trying to cover her momentary dejection. “A birthday wish or an eyelash wish?”

“Both. Why not?”

“Okay.” Juliette inclined her head up at the skies. She couldn’t see any part of the blue afternoon under the heavy cover of the clouds, but she imagined the falling snow to be falling stars instead, burning white-hot onto the world. “I wish—”

She didn’t finish her sentence. Because then Roma was kissing her, his lips softly captured over hers, his hands to either side of her face. Juliette rose up on her toes immediately, her eyes closing and her arms twining around his neck. She could feel the snow landing between them, falling in little cold droplets in her hair, on her hands, on her coat. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in that moment except the feeling of Roma’s mouth on hers, keeping her warm from her very soul.

They broke apart slowly. A breath passed between them, a secret missive that revealed everything left unsaid, though there was hardly anything to be said when a kiss fulfilled it all.

“Are you cold?” Juliette whispered, her eyes fluttering open again. Roma was already looking at her, looking in awe, his gaze wide and reverent.

“Why do you ask?” he replied. A snowflake landed on the bridge of his nose, melting as delicately as artwork.

Juliette touched her fingers to his, to the soft grip he had upon her. She couldn’t hold back her quiet laugh. “You’re trembling.”

He tried to still his hands. It did not work. It only delighted Juliette more and more when he could not stop trembling, so Roma gave up trying to pretend to be dignified, wrapping his arms around her instead and spinning her around until they were both dizzy and delirious and giggling.

They came to a stop. Juliette cupped a hand to his face, right on the red flush that had risen.

“I’m sorry,” Roma said breathlessly. “I interrupted your wish before.”

“No, you didn’t,” Juliette replied. She gave a pleased sigh, then leaned in again. “You finished it perfectly.”

THE END

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