#look. I enjoy going to classes because I need structure otherwise my life falls apart

[girlscarpia]

Must be nice not going to class because you don't feel like it and not stressing out because someone is going to pass you info/notes. Wonder what it's like

#look. I enjoy going to classes because I need structure otherwise my life falls apart #but I'm tired to be treated as a mule sometimes I feel like shit and don't want to go #or I'm busy with an assignment and I need 1-2 days off to finish it before the deadline #and I can't lmao because she's relying on me

[gryffindors-weasley]

Tender Confession

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco feels he can no longer keep his feelings from you.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: mild angst, self doubt, insecurity, fluff, kissing

It was well past midnight as you remain in the greenhouse, it’s vast array of greenery providing far too much serenity for you to want to leave it just yet. The fall air was brisk that night as it swept through the windows that had been open on its roof top, the gentle breeze brushing through each and every leaf and petal it could come across. There wasn’t any real reason for you to be there on a Tuesday night, or on any night you suppose, other than to revel in its natural beauty and have a moment to yourself. What more reason could you need?

It was the most calming place on the seemingly endless premises, one that only brought with it peace and quiet at almost all hours. That, and the Black Lake had been your favorite places to wander off to should you want to. The smell of soil and moss had always been immediate upon your arrival, paired with the ever so delicate floral scent should some of the magical plants blossom their flowers. Most students hadn’t come there past their second year, having had enough of it after experiencing the shrill cries of the Mandrakes. You suppose you don’t blame them, it worked in your benefit after all.

Occasionally Professor Sprout would leave you with some tasks should she need your help; she knew of your liking for it and she was merely happy that someone enjoyed the place just as much as she did. It was more than she could say for most of the students attending Hogwarts.

That evening, you had nothing in particular to do. There was no checklist when you had arrived two hours prior, nothing out of place to be organized. No plants to be repotted or windows to be cleaned just yet. You suppose you were grateful for the free time to simply just be there with no other responsibility than to take a moment to breathe, to take a moment to admire your surroundings. It’d been your last year, your seventh year. Once it’s concluded you would no longer be able to sneak off to this very spot, so you were determined to take in each and every second. And that’s just what you had been doing for the past two hours.

Sleep had not been on your radar quite yet, your mind far too busy with exams, too busy with trivial things, too busy with fond feelings to rest your eyes. You’d read a fair amount of your book in your time there, leaving yourself with half left to read before you could go digging in your bag for another to start. The library didn’t offer much in the form of entertaining fictional literature, rather it was filled heavily with books of history and spells, each and every word proving to be factual. It was interesting you will admit, but not quite something you’re searching to read in your free time.

Flourish and Blotts had been a place you’d frequented most often when you’d found yourself needing to replenish your collection. They had just about anything you could dream of crammed into uneven shelves, shelves that never seem to be empty. It was ironic to read books of fantasy and magic, to see others depictions on things they can’t quite fathom. The very magic you’d known the entirety of your life was sometimes strikingly different to that of what you read. It was more fabricated and dramatic, more whimsical than what you knew it to be. Despite that, it was something you easily fell into, something that was hard to put down until you reached the very last page and started another.

A sigh left your lips as you looked around the vacant structure, moonlit reflections bouncing off each and every window it landed on. You hadn’t known just when you’d make your leave and head back to the bed you should’ve already been in. It should be now, for you don’t think you could go another day yawning in each of your classes. But despite all logic and reasoning, you stayed put.

You startled when you spared a glance to your right for the sake of taking a small break from your book before a headache could form, spotting the ever familiar head of platinum. Your heart settled only slightly at the sight of him, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“I almost didn’t recognize you in uniform,” you jest, noting the white dress shirt and vest, the slytherin tie dangling loosely from his neck. He rolled his eyes though you did not miss the smile he wore. “Do you have more than one of those black suits or is it just the one? Do you ever wash—”

“You’re starting to make me regret coming here already,” Draco sighs, stepping closer to you to join where you sat perched on a vacant wooden table. “And yes I do wash it.”

Your smile only widens as you try your hardest to stifle your laughter, looking up to meet his gaze as he huffs. “So you do only have one?”

His blue stare narrows down at you and you finally laugh, the mere sound of it softening his defensive mood entirely, not that he was all that offended to begin with. He feels you could say just about anything to him and his heart would not stop fluttering for you, though he knows you could never be cruel.

“You’re a pain, you know that, Y/n/n?” He asks, the softness of his smile remaining all the same despite his lighthearted teasing.

“I can’t be any worse than you, that would be preposterous,” you quip as your gaze returns to your book briefly, and the laugh falling from his lips made your heart nearly skip a beat. You missed just how he’d looked at you in that moment.

He says nothing more then, the grin he held speaking more than enough of what he’d thought of your counter. You couldn’t help but to watch as the tips of his fingers brush over the leaves of the plants by his side, lingering over each one before moving on to the next. It was in your best interest to look away from him before he catches your gaze, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so in the very moment as you peer over the top of your book.

He plucks a single petal off of the plant just to his right, a new one regenerating almost immediately in its place. He holds it up to the moonlight, eyes bouncing over the pale colors that pigment his fingers as it lay pinched between them. It wasn’t hard to tell when something had been plaguing his mind, it wasn’t hard to figure him out really, especially considering you could imagine him setting foot in the greenhouse of his own accord. Plants were not of his interest. But you kept quiet for now.

He drops the petal from his grasp after a few moments and it’s sent fluttering to the ground, landing amongst moss and dirt before falling between a crack in the cement. It’s then that he looks at you once more, your gaze averting back to the text in your lap as your cheeks burn. You feel the table move slight and his knee bump against yours as he settles next to you, breathing out a sigh.

It was quiet for a little while then, save for the soft whistle of the wind gushing in and the chirp of the crickets. You noticed the way he’d been twirling the ring around his finger, the way he’d been suppressing his urge to hum as he so often did. You try to focus on the book held loosely in your hands, it’s pages quivering in the breeze. You try to immerse yourself into the world contained in paper before you, but the task was rapidly proving to be difficult with your newfound company.

His presence beside you was distracting, the warmth radiating from him something impossible to ignore, something you hadn’t wanted to leave. He, on the other hand, desired to be closer to you. To rest his head on your shoulder and stay there. He supposes he could, you’re his best friend after all. But he doesn’t think he can bring himself to do such a thing, his fear of never wanting to move from it keeping him still in his place. He knew he’d never want to.

“Is this all you do here? It’s quite boring,” he comments softly, resting his head back against the chilled windowpane.

A soft snort escapes you. “Yet here you are,” you jest playfully, “if I recall, it was you who came to me.”

He turns his head with the softest of smiles on his lips, his cheeks staining a pale pink having gone unseen in the dim lighting. The burning of his blush hadn’t gone unnoticed, however, that was very much obvious to him. You were right, you were always right it seemed. He found himself thinking of the striking realization that he’d always come to you, he will always gravitate towards you no matter how much he tells himself he shouldn’t. For your sake, he tells himself. For your sake is his reasoning for why he felt he should stay away, yet he can never bring himself to do just that.

He looks at you, with a look far too obvious of his feelings for his own good. “I suppose you’re right. But just this once.”

You laugh softly and he brings himself to look away, he has to otherwise he might just fall apart as his heart races. “Whatever you say, though I believe it’s more than just this once, Dray.”

Dray. It was a nickname only ever used by you, only ever thought of by you. Perhaps that’s why it had such a profound effect on him. If anyone else had used it he’d be indifferent to its meaning, annoyed rather because he felt it was something sacred, something for just the two of you. He doesn’t quite know if you feel the same, he only hopes it to be so to save him from creating his own anguish by thinking otherwise.

“What are you reading?” He asks, changing the subject as he snatches the book from your hands. His eyes skim over the cover, noting the whimsical and wondrous imagery on it. “The—”

You grab it back from him, with a frown, his laughter sounding once more. “Stop that!”

“How come you read of fake magic when you can use your own? I’m sure ours is far better,” he says with a raised brow, brushing his hair from his forehead.

“Because it is fun, Draco,” you sigh. “Besides, wasn’t it you who I found reading Shakespeare in the library?”

“That was one time! And in my defense it was rather good,” he grumbles, brows knit together in a glare focused on you and only you and he bit this inside of his cheek.

“You finished it, didn’t you?”

He tips his head back and sighs, his eyes fluttering closed. He would not be getting out of this one, he knows it. “And if I did?”

You ponder your response and he can feel your smile, one of his own forming on his lips. “If you did, then I just might tease you forever.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, turning his head to look at you. Forever sounded like bliss with you. Forever sounded far more wondrous than your ridiculous book of fantasy, far more than the love between Romeo and Juliet. “Then yes, love, I did finish it.”

It felt as though you flushed cherry red as you looked away from his gaze, the nickname setting loose a multitude of butterflies in your stomach. You resisted the urge to smile like a fool, to over analyze each and every time he called you that. Had he said to anyone else, or was it just you? Or was it just common for him to do such a thing? You were already doing it, already getting lost in a sea of possibilities that will have you winding up in a sour mood of hope and longing.

Before you could fall deeper into the depths of your mind, you open up your book again, your smile still very much evident as was the feeling of his eyes on you briefly. You didn’t dare to look, you’d look foolish if you did. You were aware of how you could be as such to him, but you were remarkably oblivious to the very same of him.

Conversation fell silent after that, and soon you fell into your book once more as he sat with you, quiet and content to simply be in your presence. He couldn’t help but to dare his glances, he’d chance any form of playful banter just to admire you. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear absentmindedly, the way you laughed softly at a particularly humorous part in your book even if you’d read it before. He knew you did, could tell by the way you underlined sections, and the way you filled the margins with hastily scrawled notes.

Something that got to him in particular was your bookmark. It was tattered and scratched, the very one he’d gotten you from Hogsmeade in fourth year. At the time he hadn’t wanted to admit he’d gone and done it, tried to say your owl brought you the parcel at dinner. You knew it to be false the moment you saw the crimson stain his cheeks. But he saw it, stamped with your initials, his own carved in with the tip of his quill some time ago. It was worse for wear as it sat tucked within pages yet to be reread, the very same ribbon tied to it in a shimmering gold that was frayed at the edges.

He decided against bringing it up, perfectly content with basking in the moment he had with you. One that was free of the stress pressing down on him constantly, free of the prying eyes he so strongly despised. For without them, he was free to be as vulnerable as he truly was, as he always had been. Not even in his own home could he be as such, not unless he was in the confines of his own room and even then he felt under watch. But here, as he sat with you amongst a myriad of plants and glass and moss, picking at the loose string on his sweater vest, he felt he could be that. He felt as though he could breathe, as though he could relax.

He exhaled a sigh as he stretched his legs, allowing them to dangle over the edge of the table as he slouched against the windows. It had to have been a half an hour at the very least, though in the absence of a clock, time could be deceiving when spent with someone you care deeply for. It could have been ten minutes, and it could have been an hour, you hadn’t known. What you did know was that you couldn’t read another word, the letters on the dimly lit page starting to blend. Your eyes couldn’t sweep across another line, and your mind couldn’t focus either.

You breathed out a sigh too, closing your book for good that night and tucking it within its rightful spot in your bag.

“Why did you come here anyway?” You ask softly, curiously, seemingly out of the blue as you closed it.

Regardless of how much he had expected that very question to fall from your lips, it took him by surprise as if he hadn’t been dwelling on it and his well thought out answer. He knew definitively just why he’d wandered out to that greenhouse that night. He knew it wasn’t because of whatever silly reason he’d conjure up, preferably in the next few seconds so he doesn’t look like a fool.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue; he found himself barely sleeping at all as of late and rightfully so. But his answer wasn’t entirely true either. He doesn’t quite know how to say he found himself unable to be without you for extended periods, he doesn’t even know how to explain it to himself. He’d never felt that way around anyone—to be so full of contentment in someone’s presence, to be so hopelessly enamored by every little thing you do. It was new and it was profound and it was scary. He knew himself to be vulnerable even if he’d been the only one to hold such knowledge, but this, this was different. It was love. He was in love with you.

You nod, your gaze softening from its once teasing stare. “Or maybe you just missed me.

He did. He absolutely did. He doesn’t even quite know how he’d made it as long as he did before he set off to come here. How anyone could possibly be away from you for more than a brief period of time. So yes, it was safe to say he missed you, and Draco Malfoy does not often do such a thing. But he simply laughs ever so softly.

You cast your gaze upward, focusing your attention on the moon and the glimmering flecks that spatter brightly in the sky. The clouds passed over it and dimmed the greenhouse each time they did so, quick to continue on their wind blown path before the next array took their place. The tip of your nose was cold with the chilly weather seeping in, and you knew it’d been rosy. You could nearly see your breath for that matter, but none of it had been important, not more so than the beauty present all around you.

It was when you sat there, head tipped back against glass walls and eyes fixed on the stars above that you felt it. You felt the brush of his fingertips over your palm, featherlight and fleeting, before it became all consuming as his fingers pushed between your own and his hand envelopes yours. You could feel the hesitancy in the sudden action and the flutter of your heart, you could feel his stare before he’d even done it. And it was then that you turn your head, meeting the eyes so longingly fixed on you.

His hair was no longer as neat as it usually had been, platinum strands dipping over his forehead in soft waves as the humidity did what it will do. He made no attempts to fix it either, the annoyance of his hair nearly in his eyes of no importance as you sat with him. What was on his mind was the way your hand remained in his.

You turned away, biting the inside of your cheek in an effort to hide your smile, to hide the giddiness that would surely betray you.

“I came out here,” he starts, huffing out a soft laugh, “I came out here because I wanted to be with you.”

Your smile was immediate, one he knew the meaning behind and he knew the fate he’d put himself into. You were never one to refrain from teasing him. “I’d assumed so. I knew you missed me.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile as he looked down at his lap, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand and he shook his head. He was in trouble. That much was true. With each passing second he’d wanted to admit the very words that had been weighing so heavily on his mind. He wanted to say them a million times over yet not a single time at all, he wanted to make it known without doing just that but he knows that is entirely impossible.

As he sits there, his hand within your own he feels as though he may just explode if his inner turmoil worsens. He’s at a crossroads and he wishes he weren’t, wishes he didn’t have to be so conflicted. If he speaks he could lose you and be utterly miserable. If he doesn’t you’d still be there, clueless to his love until you inevitably find someone else. Both options leave him utterly miserable when he thinks on them too long, and it doesn’t improve his situation in the slightest.

His heart is beating wildly in his chest at the prospect of telling you, that paired with the fact that your hand stayed entwined with his own—he’s certain it couldn’t race any faster. He wonders if you could feel him shaking. He felt foolish for being so nervous. His entire life, he’s had no problem spouting out whatever he so pleased, most of it having been undesirable and he hates that thought. But this, this was different. He’d make an even bigger fool of himself if he did this. No, he couldn’t do it, he shouldn’t—

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

It tumbles from his lips without pause and he feels as though if the ground swallowed him whole it would be perfectly suitable. He hadn’t said those three words, but he felt as though there was no difference at that point.

Your breath catches and your heart hammers, his eyes filled with something you cannot place, but the heat in his cheeks is a bit more noticeable under the glow of the moon. He hopes somehow you hadn’t heard him but he knew it was a ridiculous hope.

“Me?” You ask, and he nods softly. “What about me?”

He swallows thickly, his eyes bouncing between yours as he weighs out his options once more. His heart feels as though it’s in his throat by then, and surely his voice would falter as a result. He knew he couldn’t go another day without telling you, couldn’t go another moment tormenting himself on what you would or wouldn’t say. His feet gave him no option as he walked towards that greenhouse. Towards you.

It was terrifying to be in love, to feel so strongly for someone that a minute without them feels like a lifetime. It was terrifying to love you so wholly, for you to bring insurmountable light to his otherwise darkened life. He didn’t imagine it to be so when he first met you in Diagon Alley. Then, he only knew you to be his best friend, the one who told him he was an idiot for being mean. The one who still tells him just that. It was now or more than likely never to tell you.

So he looked at you, hand shaky in your own as your patient gaze made him melt. “I love you.”

Three words. They were whispered and they were truer than most things he’s ever spoken. They were faltered and they were the first time he’s said them in a long while.

“You—you love me?” You ask, the corner of your mouth quirking up as it settled into you. He pauses for a moment as if to give himself the option to take it back and save himself further embarrassment. But still, he finds himself nodding.

Your expression was awed and your lips parted as you looked at him, a look he couldn’t quite read and it left him to sit frozen as a flurry of emotions rained down on him. Seconds feel like hours as you look at him, each more agonizing than the last but before he could stammer your lips brush over his own. You could feel his sigh against your lips, his hand squeezing yours. The other was quick to settle on your cheek, the ring around his finger cold against your flushed skin as his hair tickled light against your forehead.

His heart was bursting in that very moment as you kissed him, a feeling most electrifying, most spellbinding. So much so that he followed your lips for another when you parted, your smile instant against his mouth.

“I love you,” you murmur, breathless and giddy.

His lips were kiss swollen and pink as you looked at him, his smile so soft you kissed him again. His forehead presses to yours and your noses bump, his breath warm as it fans across your lips. His grin widens at the rush coursing through him, his skin set ablaze and his heart pounding within his chest.

“You really do, truly?” He asks softly, pulling away to look at you in search of doubt, in search of realization. As happy as he’d been in that moment, he couldn’t quite believe how you, beautiful and wonderful you, could feel something so profound for him. Surely it must have been a dream and surely he’d wake up and be miserable, be just as hopelessly and foolishly in love as he always had been. He’d—

“Truly, I do,” you say, pulling him from his own mind and capturing his attention once more.

His eyes sparkled in the moonlit greenhouse, beaming and bright as he smiled, one reserved for you. He couldn’t have imagined his night to end like this when he wandered through shadowed and vacant halls to get there. He nearly turned back around more times than he could recall in his lovestruck state, dizzied by your kiss. He hadn’t imagined he’d have the courage to tell you, he didn’t feel he was courageous at all really. But there you sat, mere inches from each other, your hand still enveloped in his.

It might not have spilled from his lips as he imagined it to in all the times he’d thought about it, but it was tender and it was true.

—

Tags: @anchoeritic @slytherinsunrise @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @dracosathenaeum @snitches-at-dawn @lunalovecroft @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @harrysweasleys

#draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco fanfiction #draco x you #draco fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction

[marvelhiddlestan]

Hide and Seek (Part One)

Hey everyone! I thought it was about time to put some use to this blog and write something. So, as inspired by @mywritingsblog ‘s ‘Amends’ I decided to write a little something about my faves Tom and Seb. I hope you guys enjoy it, it’s my first Marvel fic and I’ve probably done a really crappy job but everyone needs to start somewhere, right?

Summary:

Y/N meets wealthy photographer Tom Hiddleston and becomes hugely infatuated with him and his charm. She lets him whisk her away to wonderful places, to meet fascinating people and introduces her to a new, beautiful way of life filled with crisp white bed sheets, ocean view houses, limitless glasses of champagne and pure luxury. But when the money and leisure lands Tom into trouble with some bad people, he panics and leaves Y/N to her own devices. Heartbroken and afraid, she gathers what money she can find and moves to a small apartment complex in Brooklyn, where she meets goofy and sweet bartender Sebastian. Y/N and Seb fall for each other hard and fast, both of them seeing a bright future ahead of them. This is all cut short when Tom finds Y/N, telling her three things. One, he still loves her. Two, he’s still in trouble. Three, now she is too. And so is everyone around her. As well as now having to stay alive, she has to choose between the two men that mean the world to her.

Pairing(s): photographer!Tom x Reader and bartender!Sebastian x Reader.

Warnings? strong language, drinking, smoking, tons of fluff and romantic shit, violence, implied smut.

Requests are open for Marvel characters and actors, btw :)

*not my gif*

part 1 | part 2

Translations:

τι ένα όμορφο πλάσμα = “what a beautiful creature”

The mesmerizing Greek night sky illuminates the crystal waters, each ripple of wave reflecting the moonlight clearer than a polished diamond. I slowly inhale the crisp air so I can appreciate every scent surrounding the balcony in which I’ve resided. The exotic food from the lively restaurant downstairs, the crackling bonfire over on the beach, the sweet, lingering scent of my perfume… this is where I need to be. Surrounded by culture, laughter and happiness. This is where I thrive. This is where I belong. Suddenly, I hear the snap of a camera and I spin around in shock, my thin, royal blue dress floating around me as I do so. I discover a beautiful slender man with curly, sandy blond hair and brilliant blue eyes that don’t differ from the Grecian ocean. I’ve seen him around the hotel and town, taking pictures of market places and the crowds on the beach. I caught him by the pool the other day laying in the sun and dear God… he was probably hotter than the weather.  

“ τι ένα όμορφο πλάσμα.” He purrs.

“I’m sorry… I don’t speak Greek.” I smile politely.

“You should learn, it’s a wonderful language.” He replies in a sleek British accent.

I’m taken aback by how sultry and calm his voice is and how well it fits to his appearance. His fitted white button-up shirt and casual black jeans with brown dress shoes perfectly portray this suave persona he’s keeping up.

“So you’re not local?” I ask, now desperate to make conversation with this alluring stranger.

“Unfortunately not.” He chuckles lowly, letting his camera hang from his neck.

“Was I just a victim of a privacy invasion?” I raise an eyebrow and nod to his gorgeous vintage-style camera.

The stranger smiles gently and wanders beside me, gazing at me with his sapphire eyes. His sharp jawline and perfectly structured cheekbones make me think that he’s some sort of supermodel, but his kind eyes and calloused hands suggest otherwise.

“I try to capture the wanders of the world. Oceans, buildings, skylines, outstandingly beautiful people,” he smirks. “Hence the invasion of privacy, my dear.” 

“Well when you put it like that, I guess you’re welcome to take as many pictures as you please.” I laugh.

“Actually, I think I’m done for the night. I’d like to have a conversation with the dazzling woman that I’ve so maliciously violated. Does she have a name?” He queries, subtly trailing his eyes up and down my body.

“She does. Y/N.” I tell him.

“Very nice to meet you, Y/N,” he smiles. “I’m Tom.”

Tom leans against the stone balcony and reaches into his breast pocket to get a packet of cigarettes, then holds the carton out to me, followed by my grateful acceptance.

“So… Tom. What do you do?” I ask as he lights our cigarettes. 

“This. Travelling to extraordinary places and trying to immortalize the finer things in life such as yourself.” He flirts.

“Ah, a photographer. Not surprising.” I sigh.

“How so?”

“I just presumed that if you look like that, then there must be a camera involved.” I flirt back.

“Mm. You flatter me,” he laughs. “What about you?”

“I’m a novel writer posing as a travel journalist for the shittiest, lowest paying magazine in America.” I chuckle, taking a long drag of the well-earned cigarette.

Tom grins in amusement at my bitterness over my crappy career, mirroring my actions with his own cigarette.

“Novel writer? How interesting.”

“Not really, I’m clearly nowhere near good enough or you wouldn’t be hearing me bitch about how awful my job is.” I sigh sadly.

“Oh, come on. What kind of stuff do you write?” Tom asks, appearing to be genuinely interested.

“I write about strong women. Doesn’t matter what genre, even though fantasy and action do help. I just remember reading all of these books growing up about these fantastical women and thinking that I wanted to be like them. However, since I don’t have any magical powers or adventures to go on, I just thought that it would be better to create them instead.” I explain, turning to look over the golden sands that meet the deep blue.

“You strike me as a strong woman, Y/N. Don’t doubt yourself like that, you seem absolutely incredible.” Tom tells me in a calm, comforting tone.

“Oh please, you don’t even know me.” I scoff, flicking ash off of the end of my cigarette.

“Maybe so. But I’d like to.” His sultry voice hooks my attention and drags my eyes from the horizon to his now very close form.

“Now why would a beautiful stranger like yourself be interested in little old me?” I hum, my fingers extending to his torso and playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Because you, my darling, are absolutely fascinating,” He whispers seductively, taking one last drag and then throwing his cigarette to the floor. “And if you wanted an adventure, all you had to do is ask.”

I bashfully look to the ground as he continues to eliminate the little space between us, but a sudden wave of confidence surges through me and I look up at him with a challenging expression ghosting across my features.

“Tom, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to seduce me.” I accuse him.

“Am  I that transparent?” Tom smirks.

I giggle at both his response and his continued advances, knowing that I’ll probably end up in a hotel room with him at some point tonight, but I try to long out our conversation to see if I can get him to break this elegant facade. Well, if I can wait that long.

“You know,” he starts, brushing my hair behind my shoulder. “I have a bottle of tequila back in my room if you’re interested.”

I dwell on the thought for a moment before throwing my cigarette to the ground and walking back into the hotel. I stop under the marble arch and turn to see a fairly disappointed Tom.

“Are you coming or am I drinking alone?” I ask.

His features lift from their dismayed state and he struts towards me and snakes an arm around my waist, guiding me to his hotel room with a great urgency.

Tom and I reach the top floor after a tortuously tension-filled elevator ride and stroll over to the third door we come to. His room is in perfect condition, not a pillow or item of clothing out of place. On his bedside table, there was a small, leather bound notebook with a fountain pen on top of it, placed directly next to an empty glass and half-full bottle of scotch.

“Tequila and scotch?” I point out. “A man of class, I see?” I laugh, sitting down on the couch at the bottom of his bed.

“I try my best.” He replies, setting his camera down on a small table next to his door and then sauntering over to a tray of bottles and glasses, pouring out two tequilas. He hands me mine and sits down beside me, relaxing into the back of the chair and taking a sip while keeping his gaze fixated on me the entire time. 

“So, did you just bring me up here to drink surprisingly decent hotel tequila or do you have any ulterior motives?” I smirk, holding the crystal glass close to my lips. Tom laughs and rests his drink in his lap, blushing slightly at my rather forward question. 

“You’re a brilliant judge of character, aren’t you?” He winks.

“Helps for when you meet handsome strangers in foreign lands. I like to know if the people I want to sleep with want to sleep with me too.” I tell him with a sly grin.

He gets up again, taking my drink from my hands and setting them both down on the silver tray that he originally retrieved them from.

“Who says I want to sleep with you?” He playfully questions, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the table. I sigh deeply, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear and smoothing out my dress.

“Well you see Tom, I did have an ulterior motive, but if we’re not on the same page, I guess I’ll leave you be.” 

I begin to walk away, but the second I get close to the door, I’m slammed into the wall as Tom animalistically smothers my neck with aggressive kisses and soft bites and quickly unzips the back of my dress, eager to remove any item of clothing covering my skin. He turns me around and pins my arms above my head with just his left hand as he moves his attack to my lips, eliciting moans from me left and right.

“Fuck,” I groan into the kiss, frustration taking over due to the fact that i can’t touch him.

Tom finally releases my arms and I fumble around with the buttons of his shirt, desperately trying to tear it off, as he slips my dress from my body and grabs my thighs, signaling for me to jump and wrap my legs around his waist. I quite happily oblige and he carries me over to the king sized bed, continuously switching his kisses from my lips to my jaw, to my neck.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Tom mumbles into my neck as he lays me down onto the satin sheets. Various items of clothing fly in different directions, landing in odd spots.

Heavy eyes, sore legs and strong arms. Those are the first things that pop into my head the next morning. In the mirror opposite me, I can already see red and purple love bites adorning my neck and chest, and Tom’s arm draped around my naked torso. I roll over and an unconscious Tom sleeping peacefully and lightly murmuring in his sleep, occasionally shifting around among the sheets. What now? Do I leave? Is this a one night stand? Am I supposed to stay? Do I go freshen up?

My train of thought is interrupted by Tom’s stretches and yawns.

“Morning.” He croaks in his morning voice.

“Morning.” I reply with a smile.

He places two fingers under my chin and places a soft, lingering kiss on my lips.

“Last night was…” I trail off, lost for words.

“Fun?” Tom finishes my sentence for me.

“Yeah, fun.” I laugh.

My neck catches his eye and he averts his attention to the hickeys spread completely across my throat.

“Oh my God… I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize they were that bad.” He chuckles sheepishly, delicately running his fingers over my neck.

“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t bother me.” I shrug, taking his hand from my chest and holding it down by my hips where he starts to gently caress my upper thigh.

“As long as you’re sure.” Tom smiles sweetly.

This is a completely different man from the one I met last night. The Tom last night was flirty and seductive, but this… this Tom is almost a polar opposite. He’s attentive and caring.

“I should probably start preparing for the walk of shame, right?” I sigh and start to sit up, trying to locate my clothes.

“Wait… you should stay.” He pleads.

“Really?” I ask, a little shocked but also kind of relieved.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you. I thought we could get breakfast. I’d like to get to know the ‘strong woman’ novelist that works for the shittiest, lowest paying magazine in America. If you’d like to get to know the pretentious photographer, that is.”

Persuaded, I relax back into his arms and place a brief kiss on his lips.

“I’d love to,” I whisper. “And pretentious isn’t the word I’d use.” I add with a slight giggle.

“Ah, so what word would the author use?” Tom asks.

I think for a moment, letting out a quizzical hum.

“Aside from aesthetically pleasing?” I smirk, only half joking. “I don’t know yet. It’ll come to me.” 

We stay in bed for the rest of the day, ordering room service, watching movies and to put it delicately- fucking in every spot of the room.

A week later, I wake up in Tom’s hotel room again. I reach over to his side of the bed, but I’m met with nothing but emptiness and the cold. I open my eyes and search the room for him, but all I find is a note on the night stand.

“Darling Y/N,

If you wake up before I’m back, I’ve just gone on a small photography walk around the hotel and on the beach. I won’t be too long, seeing as the idea of you in my bed keeps me distracted and I can’t focus. Back soon.

Your’s,

Tom x

P.S, you look absolutely stunning this morning.”

Smiling like an idiot, I place the note back on the nightstand and roll over back to where I was before. Shortly after, Tom returns in a white shirt and blue suit trousers with his camera and a satisfied grin.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Tom smiles, setting his camera down.

“Yeah, I only read your note like, five minutes ago.” I tell him.

He lays next to me and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, leaning in to whisper something.

“I was wondering if you needed waking up this morning.”

My breath hitches and my body temperature rises as he slowly climbs on top of me and begins to leave sloppy kisses down my neck.

“I’m sure I can be persuaded…” I mutter.

After a while and round… I’ve lost count if I’m honest, we both get dressed and head downstairs. We order breakfast and discuss both profound and meaningless crap. We don’t realize how long we’ve been sat in the hotel until staff ask us if we need to see the lunch menus. The both of us kindly decline and leave for the beach, where we walk along the shoreline until the sun goes down and the stars appear.

“So, how long are you here for?”Tom asks after our long talk about our childhoods.

“Only another three days.” I sigh, kicking some sand around.

“And then?” I look up at Tom, who has a deeply disappointed look behind his sparkling blue eyes.

We stop walking when we reach a dock and he takes my hands in his.

“And then I go back. Back to Colorado.” I say sadly, looking at the ground again, noticing the ocean that washes up and very nearly touches our feet. He lifts up my chin with his index finger and gazes down into my eyes.

“I’ve had the best time with you for these past few weeks. I’ve never connected with someone so much in such a short amount of time and you’ve been truly wonderful to be around. So thank you, Y/N.” Tom smiles sadly while caressing my hand with his thumb.

“Me too. I’ll miss you when I’m gone. You were by far the best part of this whole trip and I’m so glad that you photographed me without my consent.” I joke, causing him to erupt into a huge smile.

“Do you really have to go? You can’t stay a little longer?” He pleads.

“Tom, I wish I could, but my boss won’t fund my flight if I miss the one she booked for me. I wish I could be with you and not return to the city that constantly sleeps. God, you have no idea how much I just want to stick around and be with you-”

“So do it.” Tom cuts me off.

“Excuse me?”

“Stay with me.”

“What?” I breathe hollowly, completely astounded.

“Stay with me. Quit your job, come traveling with me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but-”

“I’ll do it.” I blurt out.

“Really?” Tom’s eyes widen in shock.

“Yeah, really. I hate my job, I can’t stand my neighbors, and the past week with you has been the best time of my life. I’ll go with you, Tom.”

And with that, he sweeps me off of my feet and kisses me passionately underneath the stars.

THREE YEARS LATER.

“Tom?” I call out, walking through the door of our shared LA home. “Tom, you home?” 

The only sound that meets my ears is that of the echo of my boots hitting the oak floors.

I frown in confusion, thinking that Tom should’ve been home from his meeting by now, seeing as it’s about to get dark. Plus, his car is in the drive- another factors making me even more suspicious about his whereabouts.

“Thomas Hiddleston, I swear to God… you’ll be the death of me.” I mutter under my breath, picking up some mail from the kitchen counter, flicking through bills and letters from Tom’s interested buyers.

I turn around when I hear the sound of the front door opening and shutting, followed by a sweaty, panting Tom, who’s clad in running gear from head to toe. He smiles as soon as he lays his eyes on me and takes out his earphones.

“Hello Darling,” he kisses me on the cheek. “When did you get back?”

“About thirty seconds before you stepped through the door. Where’d you go on your little adventures today?” I ask, jumping up and sitting on the island in the kitchen.

“Just around the woods. How’s your mother? Does she still despise my very existence?” Tom laughs.

“Mm. She still thinks you’re a bad influence, even three years on.” I roll my eyes.

“Maybe I am.” He winks.

“In the best way possible.” I sigh happily, hooking my finger into the neckline of his shirt and pulling him towards me, then placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“She’ll learn to love me, I’m sure.” He replies, tucking a few hairs behind my ear.

“Tom, I’m not even sure if she loves me and I’m her daughter.” I joke.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my love. It’s hard not to love you.”

Tom’s compliment makes my cheeks burn a deep scarlet and causes me to grin from ear to ear.

“You flatter me, Hiddleston,” I giggle. 

“I need a shower, don’t forget that we have that party with the Hemsworths tonight.” He reminds me.

As he walks away, I let out a huff of breath in a fed up fashion. I’m usually always up for these kinds of things, but recently I’ve been more and more reluctant to go. Tom and Chris have been good friends since we took a trip to Australia and Tom was doing a promotional shoot for Chris’s wife Elsa’s new movie at the time, so it’s not like we can’t go because we’re all so close. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m going through a phase where I’m not feeling particularly social and I’ll be back to my lively self once it passes, who knows.

“Want me to join?” I call after him.

“Darling, the day I say ‘no’ to that question, I want you to shoot me.” Tom replies, still heading to the bathroom.

After putting my final diamond earring through my lobe and straightening my dress, I strut downstairs and find a formally suited Tom waiting by the door.

“Someone cleans up nice.” I smirk, adjusting his tie.

“I could say the same… you look absolutely stunning, my dear.” Tom’s blue eyes trail up and down my body, admiring each bump and curve, making me feel even more beautiful as I notice the look of admiration behind his eyes.

“Save it for later, gorgeous.” I smirk and waltz past him and out of the door.

Tom shortly follows and opens up the car door for me in a gentlemanly fashion, which plasters a smile across my lips. Once he sits in the driver’s seat, Tom opens up the roof of the car, then placing his hand on my thigh and lovingly grazing it with his thumb.

“Excited?” He asks with a grin.

“Yeah, I guess.” I flash a half smile as I gently shrug my shoulders.

I turn to Tom, who is looking at me with his classic:

“I know something’s wrong and I’m not going to drop it until you tell me” look.

“What?” I sigh, rubbing my forehead tiresomely.

“What do you man ‘what?’? You love parties! More importantly, you love Chris and Elsa. What’s wrong? And please be honest with me, don’t say you’re fine so I leave it alone.”

“I don’t know, I just haven’t been in a ‘party’ mood lately. It’s like… for once I’d just like it if we stayed at home. I honestly can’t remember the last time we stayed in and just watched a damn movie in our sweats instead of getting all dressed up and making pointless small talk all night with people we either don’t know or don’t like. Is that such a terrible concept?”

Tom sighs and rests his head against the back of the driver’s seat.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because you love these things. I don’t want to be the one to disappoint you.” I say sadly.

“You couldn’t disappoint me, Darling. Yes, I do love these things, but I love you more and if you don’t want to do something, then I’m more than happy to do whatever you prefer.” He smiles softly while still rubbing my hand with his thumb.

“I love you too, Tom.” I tell him in all sincerity, glad that he isn’t angry about my indifference to social events.

“Want me to call and cancel?” He offers.

I dwell on the thought for a moment, but shake my head in defeat.

“No, it might be fun. Plus, I’m never one to argue against you wearing a suit.” I smirk, only half joking.

He laughs in response and blushes a little.

“So.. think we could be a little late?”

After being a half-hour late because of… reasons, Tom and I arrive at Chris and Elsa’s door.

“Oh my God, Tom…” I giggle, smoothing down some of his un-kept sex-hair. 

“Whoops.” He snickers.

The door swings open and we’’re greeted by a grinning Chris and a laughing Elsa, who both somehow become even happier when they see us.

“Hey guys!” Chris exclaims.

“Hey, how are you both?” Tom smiles as Chris engulfs him in a hug.

Elsa grabs my hand and pulls me inside, leading me straight to a table full of alcohol.

“Every time I see you, you get me drunk!” I exclaim.

“Are you objecting?” Elsa giggles.

“Obviously not, but that isn’t the point.” I reply, taking a shot and then wincing at the burning sensation in my throat. Elsa chuckles hysterically at my slight intolerance to the alcohol.

“You are late.” Elsa playfully narrows her eyes and points her glass of Merlot at me accusingly. 

I chuckle lightly as I pour myself a cocktail, flicking the tiny umbrella in as I finish.

“I have my reasons.” I smirk, clinking my glass against hers.

“I bet. And may I say, your ‘reasons’ are looking absolutely dashing this evening,” she nods towards Tom, who’s talking to a number of men in equally flashed out suits. “So tell me, how many times? Three? Four?” She teases.

“It was both a quickie and none of your business! And yes, he does look great tonight.” I smile.

As the night carries on into the early hours of the morning, Tom introduces me to countless people who are interested in his work, none of whom manage to make even half a good impression. Chris breaks out a karaoke machine, much to his kids’ demise. However, the moment that the three children set their eyes on Tom, their moods were instantly turned around. Sasha runs up to Tom, only to be lifted into the air by my adoring boyfriend. Elsa creeps up behind me and watches as my partner cuddles her son in a way that comes so naturally to him. 

“He’s good at that. You next, right?.”

Whoops, there it is. The seven words that strike fear into my heart. Kids? God, I was only just warming up to marriage, never mind kids. Sure marriage is a huge commitment, but at least you can get out of it. Not that I would want to get out of a marriage with Tom, but you never know what can go wrong. But kids… that’s a forever deal. Permanent, constant, infinite.

“Yeah… I um, I need a drink.” I choke out and rush over to the still-overflowing table of alcohol. No Y/N, no more alcohol. You have to drive. My hand edges away from the bourbon and vodka and reaches for water instead.

As I shakily pour the water into a glass, I feel a pair of arms slink around my waist and a head rest on my shoulder.

“Wow Elsa, I never knew you felt that way about me.” I joke, earning a drunken chuckle from Tom.

“What are you thinking about?” He slurs.

I sigh a little and take a sip of my drink.

“I’m thinking about getting you home-”

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles into my neck just before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses.

“And getting you sober, don’t get too excited. You need some sleep,” I turn around and kiss him softly, “so it’s time to say our goodbyes.”

I drag Tom over to the Hemsworth family and we begrudgingly depart, promising each other lunch at some point in the upcoming weeks. Chris and Tom aggressively hug each other, causing Elsa and I to roll our eyes at the ridiculous display of masculinity. 

On our way out of the house, we’re stopped by a man requesting Tom’s presence elsewhere. Tom excuses himself and walks away and I watch them as I unlock the car. The man has lead Tom to a group of people stood in front of a silver Mercedes, all of which are lead by a short, pale man in a white suit. The conversation looks pretty friendly until the short man begins to frown at Tom. He begins to push him backwards slightly and yell profanities that are just barely audible. Everything becomes incredibly heated, but Chris manages to step between Tom and the group before things start to get nasty. From what I gather, he tells them to leave and then turns to Tom once they leave. Chris shakes his head in disappointment as Tom tries to reason with him, but to no success. In the end, Chris just places a hand on Tom’s shoulder and nods over to me. As soon as he does so, I look away as to not look like I’ve been watching them. Moments later, Tom returns by my side with a see-through fake smile playing on his lips.

“Come on then, lets go home.” Tom coughs out.

“Everything okay over there? Looked pretty rough.” I comment, searching for any kind of truth behind his baby blue eyes.

“Yeah, it’s all fine.” He shrugs.

“Didn’t look fine. Are you sure you’re oka-”

“I’m fine, it’s fine. Just a buyer. Couldn’t afford the pieces he wanted. Darling, it’s nothing to worry about. Let’s go home, my love.” Tom caresses my cheek

SAO PAULO, BRAZIL. TWO MONTHS LATER.

White sand washes off of my legs as I step into the shower of our shared hotel room in Sao Paulo. The heat from the water cleanses my body of the morning, but unfortunately, not my mind. My fingers wipe away the mascara streaks covering the dark bags of fatigue under my eyes. The one thing I can’t wash away is the heartbreak.

Y/N. I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am. I love you with everything I am and have,  but this is something I have to do. I’m in trouble. I have to leave, because if I don’t, things aren’t going to end well for me. I didn’t want to do this, but I have to. You’re my world and these past three and a half years have been the best of my life. I wish I could explain and I wish I could make it up to you, but I can’t. I don’t want anything bad to happen. I’ll always be your’s. But I’m gone. Possibly forever. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. 

I’m sorry.

Tom.

So here I am. Alone. Brokenhearted. Empty. 

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston story #tom hiddleston smut #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel actors imagine #MCU #chris hemsworth #elsa pataky #tom hiddleston fic

[keywestlou]

Day 5

DAY 5…..Greece The First Time

Posted on June 1, 2012 by Key West Lou

I LOVE ATHENS!

What a city!

Arrived yesterday.

Lets begin with the flight from Milan to Athens.

Flew a German line. Aegean. Aegean is an affiliate/subsidiary of Lufthansa. The plane was a new airbus recently constructed by a French company. A big plane.

The trip takes only two hours. We flew south along the eastern coast of Italy. The rear side of the boot. Above the heel. Where the spur butts out. Then a left over the Aegean Sea.

The spur of Italy where we turned is the Puglia region. My mother was born in Puglia. In the town of Foggia. For whatever reason, I have felt my mother’s presence this entire trip. As the plane passed over Puglia, even more. She died more than 20 years ago.

The attendants are not referred to as such in this part of Europe. They are still stewardesses. Young. Not even thirty. No male stewards. It would appear age and sex discrimination are still alive in this part of the world.

The flight took all of two hours. Lunch was served. Yes, lunch. Not peanuts or pretzels. A terrific lunch.

Lunch consisted of two lamb sausages with vegetables. Cheese. Some terrific chocolate dessert. A very tasty cheese. Crackers.

Coffee at the end. In a real cup.

I had diet soda to drink. My glass was twice the size of one served in the United States. No ice. The soda cold. More soda for me.

And now the best, free alcohol. The woman next to me had a good sized bottle of red wine. The couple across from me cans of Heineken beer. Again, free.

My ticket cost $180 one way. I flew economy class.

Why the differences between a European flight and one in the United States?

A twenty mile cab ride to my hotel. I had selected a hotel close to the Parthenon so I could walk there each day.

The cab took me through old run down Athens. Much like a similar New York City neighborhood. Then the neighborhoods changed. All of a sudden I was on embassy row and the homes of ambassadors. Magnificent structures. All ancient Greek in style.

I wanted to engage the driver in conversation. He did not speak English. I did not speak Greek. I mentioned one word however that ignited him. He communicated effectively with me at that point. The word…..euro. He spun around to look at me. Yelled in his language what I suspect were profanities. Made it clear to me he was opposed to the euro, felt it had brought on Greece’s economic collapse. All this time he is driving looking at me. I understood he wanted a return to the old currency. The dracma.

He mentioned that Spain would be next to fall. He made it clear he did not like the Germans. They were economically sound while his country was going down the tubes. This economic problem was Germany’s fault. I suspect shades of World War II were still upon him. On the other hand, I found Italians were not happy with Germans either.

The driver appeared to be in his 60s.

Driving is crazy in Athens. Get out of the way! We were in the middle of Athens on a six lane highway going one way. The drivers were cutting each other off and cutting in front of each other. At excessive speeds.

Rather than fear the situation, I respected their abilities to drive so effectively. And without accident. At least I did not see one.

We drove past the Greek Parliament. An imposing building. Even more imposing was the plaza in front of the building. A concrete slab that appeared significantly larger than a football field. The place where demonstrations and riots took place. Such past activities could be sensed as you passed by.

We finally reached the hotel. I was excited. Supposedly a hop, skip and jump from Plaka. A place I was told was a fun area.

I checked in and headed for Plaka. Only two blocks away.

Plaka may be best described as a neighborhood. A big one. It sits at the foot of Acropolis. It is the oldest area in Athens. Sometimes  Plaka is refered to as the real Athens. Blocks and blocks of sidewalk cafes. Many inexpensive clothing and jewelry shops. Thousands of people. Yesterday, the day I was there. All ages. From all parts of the world. Enjoying themselves!

As opposed to Navaro, these people were smiling. Also they looked normal. Many overweight. Very few thin people.

I sat at one of the sidewalk cafes. Under a huge tree. Much like a Key West banyan tree.

Talking with people is easy here. I spoke with a table of Greek college students on one side. An Australian couple on the other. Everyone appears to love Americans. They were anxious to talk with me.

I found the preceding surprising. I was warned by many before the trip that Europeans in general dislike Americans. I don’t know what countries these people visited!

I walked a bit around the Plaka area. Came across some old ruins. Hadrian’s Library. Built in 132 AD by the Roman Emperor Hadrian. Books were kept there. The building had reading rooms and lecture rooms, also. Sounds much like a 21st century library to me.

I was impressed with the use of the building. That libraries existed back then. I was also impressed with the construction. That which remained. Such precision in the workmanship. Each stone similarly cut and placed in perfect position. I thought, why not. The Egyptians did it with the pyramids well before Hadrian’s Library was constructed.

Plaka again is at the foot of a huge hill. A semi-mountain. Topside sits the Parthenon and Acropolis. Rising up the sides of the mountain are many outside cafes. It was past dinner time and I decided to try one.

The hill was steep. The stairs going up and down equally steep. People dining in outside cafes on each side of the steps.

Each restaurant had one or more persons working that I would describe as hustlers. They would stand on the steps and literally pull you into their restaurant.

I wanted to sit at the very top. It was a hard trip. I had to stop a couple of times and sit on a stoop to catch my breath. I finally made it. The hustler turned out to be from Canada. He was in his 60s. He told me his life’s story. His wife had divorced him after 40 years. I said don’t feel bad. My wife did it after fifty two years. He had recovered however from the misfortune. He now considered the divorce a fortuitous happening. He had met a younger woman. A Greek. Fell in love. Now lived in Greece full time with her.

The meal was only so so. I was disappointed. I had a lamb dish. The lamb was tough.

The strenuous walk up the steps was worth it. I could see all the way down and over the rooftops of Athens. It was dark and everything was lite up.

After dinner, I searched for some Greek music and dancing. I could find none. Perhaps it was too early. I did find a piano bar. Stopped inside. Stayed briefly. The entertainer was no Larry Smith.

Today it is my intention to go to the very top of the hill. By cab, I assume. The Parthenon and Acropolis await me.

I wanted to take pictures. I will before I am done. To share with you. I bought a new cell phone. I should not have. It is screwed up. By me. I cannot get it unscrewed. Cannot use it in any fashion.

At breakfast this morning, I met another couple from Australia. They had a tablet and offered it to me to write my blog. I knew it would take too long. As it turned out, I became totally frustrated with the learning process. My age was showing.

I am doing today’s blog from a second floor internet shop. About 40 computers available for rent by the hour. Cost is 3 euros an hour. That is about $4.20 American money. The way I type, it will take forever. My drinking money for today is being used up.

The room is large. Many people. Body heat and machine heat. No air conditioning. I will require another shower when I finish.

Enjoy your day! I am mine!

This mornings Citizens’ Voice had two especially interesting comments.

The first: “At the vaccine’s current availability rate of 600 doses a week, it will take through June just to vaccinate only those Monroe County residents 65 or older. Good luck!”

The other: “A Miami Herald article touted Key West as a ‘sort of lawless island.'”

The description offends me. And I am sure every Key West resident.

I have been in Key West in one fashion or another for 30 years. “A lawless island” is far from an accurate description. The rowdiness is limited to Duval Street. The haven visitors seek. They can get drunk, chase each other, and hopefully enjoy some illicit sex.

There is more to Key West than Duval. I have many times written or otherwise described Key West as a good place to live, raise children, etc.

Few residents go downtown. Not everyone is like me. I enjoy the Chart Room and the people I meet. I cannot recall the last time I might have drunk too much. Now, I rarely have a drink.

As to the sexes chasing each other, an extreme rarity if at all among residents. Residents are like family. See each other almost every night.

I am trying to think the last time a tourist chased me for sex. Has to have been a long time ago. No woman wants a man in his 80s. Then there is the problem the mind may be willing, but not the body.

On this day in 2015, Key West had 29 cigar factories, who employed 2,100 workers, who made 62,415,000 cigars, from imported Cuban tobacco.

Anne Ray is with the University of Miami’s Shimberg Center for Housing Studies. She said a most recent study indicated “Key West workers need to earn $33 an hour to afford Key West rents.”

I buy it. Rents are out of sight!

Key West has created a shortage of workforce housing.

No one cares, except for the working population. More and more leave Key West each year because they cannot afford to pay excessive rents and no longer wish to share a 2 bedroom apartment with 3 other people.

Mayor Johnston and the City Commission are aware of the problem. Everyone who lives or has lived in Key West understands it. Mayor Johnston and the Commission are into the problem and looking for how to make rents affordable. Even to the extent of hiring a full time Director of Housing to solely deal with the problem.

More than 50 House lawmakers want the new stimulus package to provide not for a one time $2,000 payment. Rather, $2,000 a month payments till the pandemic is behind the population.

The thought a wise and unwise one at the same time.

Wise in that those who need the money the most spend it swiftly. Such helps the economy. Everyone in effect is eating off the $2,000.

Unwise in that it might also break the bank – the U.S. economy. In addition unending payments might result in people not wanting to return to work if they can take in $2,000 a month without working.

Note the 50 plus Representatives want $2,000 per adult and each child.

My solution. Go for the $2,000 per month with a limit of 3 months. Then look at the problem again. If feasible, continue. If it has too many warts, do not renew.

One thing is certain in the U.S. Insanity prevails.

Two Ohio Republican members of the House of Representatives want a declaration calling for June 14 to be “President Donald J. Trump Day.” They are looking for co-sponsors to introduce the bill.

Two Louis thoughts.

Trump is not a Washington or Lincoln. He does not deserve such recognition.

The other is I was under the impression that naming a day after a person first required the person to be dead. If such is the case, we will have to wait to another time before the issue can be entertained.

Enjoy your day!

Day 5 was originally published on Key West Lou

[wanderlustingvegan-blog]

the first one

I was sitting in my Academic Advisor’s office when this whole journey started. We were planning my classes for the fall semester in my second year at Binghamton University when she said, “Wow, you have a lot of credits for a freshman. Have you ever thought about graduating early?” No, the thought never crossed my mind. Although I’ve always loved school and learning new things, I never thought I was the student that could finish college early. But low and behold, the AP classes I took in high school and the summer internship I took in Manhattan paid off with 16 credits toward my degree. I already skipped an entire semester of college. I talked through a plan with my advisor; if I took winter and summer classes for the next two years, I could graduate a year early. College in just three years? I was paying for my education myself, so if I didn’t have to pay another $12k out off pocket, or apply to 10+ scholarships for another year, I was in.

But, what would I do in this extra year that I would’ve spent in school? I could start with getting a job, working for a nonprofit in the city, and make money as soon as I could. Or I could do something more worthwhile… what if I traveled for a year? I’ve always dreamed of traveling since I was younger, I’ve always wanted to hop on a train or a plane and explore. I started doing some research and the trip seemed possible. After going to Israel for Birthright the winter before I started making these plans, I knew I wanted to go back and live there for at least a month. But there were so many more countries that intrigued me; I didn’t know where to start! By the time my third year rolled around, I made more plans, booked some flights, and my trip became real. I was really doing this. I was traveling across the world by myself for 6 months.

I stayed in touch with a few people from my Birthright trip and one of them mentioned a program called Onward Israel to me as we were catching up. She did the 2-month internship program the summer after we did Birthright together and was working as a representative for them now – after I applied, I had my interview with her and was approved immediately! The program required a down payment that went towards living in an apartment for 2 months, along with interning at an Israeli company and getting a stipend for food; it was a great deal for what I paid for. The experience was one I will never forget. Not only was this program how I started off my travels abroad, but it was the longest I would be spending in one place. I planned to stay for 2-4 weeks in my other destinations and was traveling by myself, too. But this experience was unlike anything else I’d encounter in the rest of my journey. A few days before I moved in, I found out my apartment was filled with 9 other girls. As I walked through the door, it looked more like a loft than an apartment. My name was on the dining room table, along with a key, and I put my things in the first room I saw. No one else was home but later, I found out that I shared the room with two other girls, strangely reminding me of my life in the dorms back at college.

The whole program felt very structured at first. We had weekly activities that were either about Israeli history, society, politics, etc. or about us – the interns. As much as these activities were informative, some were meant to have us socialize and get to know each other – forcibly. I did connect with a few people on the program, but that took weeks of me becoming comfortable around them. In the beginning I was just around strangers. I didn’t have anything in common with them except for the program we were all on together. Although I spent a lot of time with them and got to know them, there was still a part of me that felt lonely, that truly became homesick. I missed my friends that I recently graduated with, who were all still in the college-town we made so many memories in. I missed my sister, who started a new job and was making strides in her art career in Manhattan. I was starting to miss a lot of people and wondered if I was cut out for living on the other side of the world for the next several months. Luckily, my loneliness subsided as I befriended a few of the girls I lived with. They were the first to show me how genuine friendships can come out of the most unexpected places.

One moment shifted my views on the program, as I got to know one of my roommates, Mina. We had a lot in common from the moment we met – similar music taste, our views on Judaism, our spiritual beliefs, and the difficulties life threw at us when we were too young to heal ourselves properly. I mentioned that I wanted to go to the Western Wall one morning on Shabbat because I haven’t gone since Birthright and wanted to recognize the holiday in the most holy place on Earth. Shabbat, or the Sabbath, is the day of rest for Jews. From sundown Friday to sundown Saturday, Israel has everything closed for 24 hours – grocery stores, shopping centers, most restaurants, etc. – to ensure that everyone is resting, or keeping Shabbos. The people on my program, all being Western 20-somethings, were always looking to make plans and find something to do together on Shabbat, but not a lot of people were religious. Mina and I bonded over the fact that we didn’t think of ourselves as very religious, but we did see ourselves as spiritual Jews. She agreed to come with me to pray at the Western Wall on Saturday morning and the experience was completely different than the last time I was there. We walked from our apartment in Rehavia (a neighborhood in Jerusalem) to the Old City. It wasn’t until we entered through the old Yellowstone arch that we realized we were not going anywhere near the entrance of the Western Wall. Google maps isn’t the best for taking you to the exact location in a place like Jerusalem’s Old City, and instead of trying to find signs to tell us where to go, we were millennials that trusted Google would get us there in no time. Eventually, we put our phones away, trusted our instincts, and wandered around the different quarters of the Old City until we found the signs pointing to the Kotel, or the Wailing Wall in Hebrew. 

We entered through the Jewish quarter and found the entrance for women, since there are sections for men, women, and an egalitarian section which is where I went during Birthright. But being surrounded by other Jewish women of various origins and sects of Judaism was comforting. I felt like I belonged and followed Mina to get a prayer book, find a table to open to Hebrew prayers, and start to pray. It was overwhelming. Anyone who has been to the Kotel knows, the feeling you get when you are in front of a wall that large, with so much history and meaning behind it. It’s a feeling like no other. My heart started to ache and tears were streaming down my face as I spoke to G_d and connected with myself again. I looked over at Mina and she was sitting, eyes watering, deep in thought looking into her prayer book. We made eye contact and went to touch the wall, finish our prayers, and walked backwards to put our prayer books away and head home.

Getting out of the Kotel wasn’t difficult but we realized that we came out of the furthest exit from the direction we needed to go back to Rehavia – 40 minutes of walking in the sunny, 90+ degree weather that Israeli summers are known for. We decided to stop in a park on the way back to lay down, relax, and take off our layers of modest clothing. The stop in the park and walk back to our apartment was when Mina and I truly became friends. We opened up to each other about the most personal subjects, shared childhood stories with each other, and realized that we both needed each other that summer. She helped me remember how incredible my life was when I’d feel lonely or upset about missing home. Although the program we were on was completely different from how I wanted my travels to start off, it still brought me this incredible, strong, compassionate, and loving friend that I never would’ve met otherwise. It was hard saying goodbye knowing that she lives in Indiana, a far trip from New York, but I know our paths will cross again. 

After leaving my life in Jerusalem and starting my journey as a solo traveler, there were moments that I missed my friends I made in Onward Israel. I was only an hour away from my home in Rehavia when I went to my next long-term destination in a city in the West Bank called Ramallah, also known as the capital of Palestine. I spent a month working at a hostel in the center of the city and rarely felt lonely at this point of my trip, mainly because the people that surrounded me were some of the most genuine and kind people I’ve met. Working a hostel was an experience on its own but the fact that I was constantly surrounded by people, whether it was guests or other volunteers, was something I enjoyed getting used to. Like the friends I made during Onward Israel, I found my core group of friends at the Hostel in Ramallah too – Fanny, Caleb, and Carina. We all arrived around the same time, in the beginning of September, and over the weeks we spent cleaning, helping guests, and taking our days off to travel around the West Bank, we grew really close. Although I loved spending time with each and every one of them, I wanted to take a trip to the north of the region and had to do it on my own – I craved alone time towards the end of my 4 weeks of volunteering. Every week I’d get one day off, which I didn’t use until my last week there, so I planned a trip for 4 days to go to 3 cities in the North: Tiberias, Nazareth, and Haifa. 

Unfortunately, the days I chose to leave Ramallah and head into Israel was the same day as Sukkot, one of the many Jewish holidays Israel recognizes and similar to how it handles Shabbat – everything is closed. Since Sukkot lasts 7 days and Israel can’t close everything down for a week, the first day is treated like Shabbat while the remaining 6 days are left to be celebrated after sundown, most places close early and buses run less frequently. My travels became delayed and frustrating at times when I had to take the bus to travel to the different cities, spending at least a couple hours each way. On my way from Tiberias to Nazareth, I needed to transfer buses on the highway and did my long-term traveling at night so I could sleep on the bus and spend the whole day in the city. During this time I didn’t have any data left on my Israeli cell phone plan, so I needed to load directions on my phone while I had Wi-Fi at the hostel in Tiberias. Unfortunately, the first bus I took was running late so by the time I had to transfer to the next bus, I was late for the time Google maps told me. I couldn’t load the schedule to see when the next bus was coming (due to the lack of data) but I knew it would take some time because of Sukkot.

So here I am, me and my backpack, on the shoulder of a highway. At 9:30pm. In northern Israel. I kept looking at the screen above me, waiting for my bus number to pop up and eventually I see it, “431 – 47 mins.” I laughed. How do I keep myself occupied for 47 minutes? I couldn’t read my book, it was too dark to see anything. I was listening to music at the time and no one was around me, so I popped one earbud out of my ear, put on my “Billie Eilish: Complete Collection” playlist on Spotify, and started to sing. I’ve loved to sing since I was a child, I would even get yelled at for humming at the dinner table too much. Music and singing are things I couldn’t live without, and whenever I need to cheer myself up, I start to sing. I sang my heart out as cars zoomed past me in the dead of night. I started with “idontwannabeyouanymore,” then “COPYCAT,” then “party favor,” over and over. I was shameless of the drivers that might’ve seen my body language as I got more intense with my performance. It got to a point when the cars were almost like an audience, their headlights were like stage lights. After going through the playlist a couple times and singing the same songs at the top of my lungs, I checked the sign: “431 – 6 mins.” I’ve been singing for more than a half hour and it felt like nothing! I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to sing completely carefree – no time restrictions, no fear of someone walking in on me, no interference. This unexpected inconvenience was a shift in my solo travels. It made the time by myself go from lonely and boring to refreshing and entertaining. No matter who I took that little trip to the north with, it wouldn’t have been the same if I wasn’t alone.

In October, I got on a flight to Poland and in the following 2 months, there were times I felt lonely – but I could handle it more gracefully than how I would’ve in the middle of June. There were times when I wished for a friend I could explore an unknown part of the city with. After meeting new people day in and out, I started to dismiss the small talk and craved a deep conversation with a friend over dinner. This is when I became grateful for traveling in the 21st century where my closest friends were just a phone call away. If I ever had a day of feeling lonely, I could easily find a place with Wi-Fi and call my sister or my best friend. It’s important to have a few people you can always call while traveling solo. Although the time difference was tricky, it was a constant part of my routine to have people I cared about still be there for me. I knew they couldn’t be there physically, but they kept me company when the loneliness took over my mind.

As much as I am a social person, I appreciated my alone time more and more as I traveled by myself. Growing up, I identified as an extrovert – I was the one who got scolded by the teacher because I was always talking to my classmates. I love talking, I love people, but there’s also a comfort I found with being by myself. Traveling gave me the opportunity to release my inner introvert. When I was going to school, I juggled two jobs, maintained a social life and went to the gym daily, never having time to stop and think about myself. Having all the time in the world to listen to my thoughts and recognize my feelings – that’s where I found bliss. My stress became alleviated when I could wander around cities by myself, walk into shops I found interesting, and sit at the bar of a restaurant to read, or converse with the waiters and other strangers eating by themselves. Meeting other people while traveling was one of my favorite parts of traveling by myself, but it did get exhausting at times. When staying at hostels every week, meeting new people constantly, you hear the same questions with the same basic replies,

“Where are you from?”                          “Wow, New York!”

“What made you want to come here?”              “Oh, I came for vacation”

“How long are you here for?”               “I’m here for x days”

“Did you go to the ‘blah blah blah’ yet?”           “You must try to go! It’s so beautiful!”

But there were times when the conversation would stray from the basics and I made a connection with someone. Whether it was with a fellow traveler or a local, I could spend a whole day with someone instead of being by myself and wandering alone. There were times when I did want to be alone and rejected some dinner invitations because I started to crave my alone time. I never would’ve been able to truly enjoy myself if I was traveling for months with another person, or a group of people. I would probably grow tired of them.

I suppose I like traveling by myself because I have more freedom. I have opportunities to learn more about the culture and the people that are surrounding me in this new place I’m discovering, day by day. I began my journey abroad with a Google document of itineraries for each country I went to. I would add to the lists as my time in the destinations got closer, but as time went on, I used these dense itineraries as lists of goals instead. I became more relaxed with letting my body go where it wanted to go, regardless of the tourist attractions or places other people told me to go to. The list helped me when I was bored of an area or wanted to do something more entertaining, but it didn’t make me feel anxious or rushed that I needed to do anything. Traveling alone was one of the best decisions I made for my journey abroad. Yes, loneliness happens, but it goes away.

Four years ago, I never would’ve expected myself to be where I am today. Sitting in my apartment in Brooklyn, reflecting on my travels abroad where I lived out of a backpack for 6 months. Those months were life changing and I’ll never be the same after everything I experienced. I walked through crowded streets of Palestine, roamed around the Old Town of Warsaw, and got lost in a small Spanish village, all on my own. Being alone is so powerful. It forces you to see parts of yourself that only you can bring out. By taking in everything you’ve experienced, incredible things can happen in your mind. You replay the moments and remember the small things that make your heart race again. I’ve learned to be my happiest self without any company. Happiness can come to you in the most unexpected ways, but if there’s anything I learned after my trip is that chasing your dreams is important. Whatever fuels your fire, whatever you feel passionate about, make that your life. You won’t regret it.

#travel #writing #blog #solo trip #backpacking #lonely #you are not alone