#meanwhile all sports events will be happening behind closed doors for two weeks

[elektranhatcios]

greek government: we are fully prepared to face a potential coronavirus outbreak

greek government now that the inevitable coronavirus outbreak happened: the virus doesn't spread through the holy communion. we're closing down community centres for the elderly, but not the churches where the elderly go almost every day now that we're in lent period. we're also closing down this junior high school but not that high school that is hosted in the same building. wash your hands, don't sneeze and stay calm✌️

#the head priest or whatever he's called in english said that holy water can beat the virus #(thought the outbreak was caused by a group returning from a visit to the holy land) #meanwhile all sports events will be happening behind closed doors for two weeks #random schools are in lockdown #and all public places are being sanitised #nefeli speaks #coronavirus #best country in the woooorld!! ✌️✌️

[goingmorry]

The Art of Domesticity [Trafalgar Law x Fem! Reader]

Synopsis: On a whim, Law decides to indulge you with a hot bath. Feeling lethargic despite your nap, you are more than delighted to take him up on his offer.

Tags: domestic fluff, sexually suggestive themes, male and female nudity, established relationship

Word Count: 2,161

In the depths of the Grand Line, deadly sea creatures swim idly by, patiently waiting for the next unsuspecting shipwrecked pirate to serve as their next meal.

Not long after, an unknown object of immeasurable speed barrels across the ocean floor, whirring past the mess of Sea Kings. Intent on chomping down on the foreign entity, the creatures join together in pursuit.

A yellow submarine, adorned with a Jolly Roger resembling a smiley face and inscribed with the words "DEATH,"  shakes beneath the water pressure.

The Polar Tang, home to the notorious Heart Pirates, aggressively reverberates in response to the Sea Kings' pursuit, mimicking the chaos inside the ship.

Meanwhile, in the control room, Captain Trafalgar Law stands at attention, face impassive as he calmly assesses the situation. In contrast to the rest of the crew's panicked behavior, Law had complete confidence in his crew's ability to make it out of this predicament unharmed. Right on cue, Law watches as his navigator, Vice-Captain Bepo, expertly maneuvers the ship away from dubious underwater beasts and excess debris. Under Bepo's supervision, Shachi and Penguin carefully operate the numerous controls to keep the sub afloat. In the engine room, Ikkaku and Jean Bart attend to the ship's generators, air compressors, and fuel pumps, ensuring their pristine condition during the onslaught.

After weeks of being submerged, the Polar Tang steadily heads to the surface. And with every second that passes, the distance between the pirates and the monsters increases until the vessel can no longer be seen by their pursuers. Sure enough, having lost sight of their target, it became apparent to the Sea Kings that they were no match for the submarine's speed. Where the ship once was, only faint bubble traces remain.

Unbeknownst to the pirate crew, loud rumbling sounds vibrate across the sea bed, the Sea Kings' roars echoing across the deep oceans, scaring away small fishes that dare to come close.

"We've lost sight of them, Captain," Bepo exclaims, swiveling his chair in Law's direction.

"So it seems," Law says, grabbing the nearby Den Den Mushi to announce their successful escape to the entire crew.

Almost immediately, Penguin and Shachi cheer in conjunction with the rest of the crew's boisterous laughter. To celebrate their victory, the Polar Tang resurfaces, providing an opportunity for the crew to receive some much-needed sunlight.

The turbulent atmosphere moments ago can no longer be found, replaced by a serene calmness. In celebration, the Heart Pirates gather in the upper deck, engaging themselves in various recreational activities. The perfect time to disappear for a bit, Law thinks.

Voicing these thoughts, Law directly addresses Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. "I'll be in my room."

Shachi nudges Penguin, suggestively wiggling their eyebrows at each other. Bepo curiously looks at the duo, sneaking glances at his captain, while Law scowls at their childishness.

"Don't worry, Captain! We'll make sure no one bothers you two!" Penguin blurts out, earning a swift elbow to his ribs.

"You idiot! Be more discreet next time!" Shachi angrily whispers in Penguin's ear, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, before continuing, "They're still in the honeymoon phase."

"More like hornymoon phase," Penguin huffs, causing both of them to break out in uncontrollable giggles. Bepo lets out an innocent smile.

Choosing not to respond since nothing he could say could convince Shachi and Penguin otherwise, Law hurries to his quarters, leaving the two to their incessant bickering.

- - - - - - - - - -

Standing in front of his bedroom,  Law raises his hand to give two light raps to the door. He frowns at the lack of response, turning the door handle to reveal your upper body sprawled on his desk. He pauses for a moment before walking over to your slumped form. Upon closer inspection, you were sleeping soundlessly, seemingly unaware of earlier's events. Your head was nestled atop your forearms, an expression of serenity overcoming your features. Sheets of paper and various writing instruments were strewn across the corner of the desk, haphazardly pushed aside to accommodate your slumbering figure.

Law lifts his tattooed hand, gently brushing the stray hair that had fallen on your face. He runs his fingers across your unruly hair, noticing several tangled knots that had formed. Despite your less-than-ideal appearance, however, you never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

Deciding to let you sleep for a moment longer, Law saunters over to the bathroom, intent on running a bath for himself and you, should you choose to wake up in time to join him.

The sound of the water steadily splashing as it fills the tub is enough to rouse you.

Your eyes flutter open, turning around in search of the source of the noise before landing on the ajar door leading to the bathroom. A familiar lanky figure - sporting his signature leopard jeans - crouches over the tub. You couldn't see the top half of his body, but you were pretty sure he was monitoring the tub's water level. Not long after, you hear the sound of the faucet turning, and the water stops. Law stands up, walking over to lean against the doorframe. His golden eyes meet yours in amusement, mouth turning upward in a slight smirk.

"Mmm... Did something happen?" you mumble, voice raspy from your nap. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning in satisfaction before leaning back against the headrest of the chair. Despite the needed rest, you didn't feel as refreshed as you'd hoped. You felt so exhausted, your lips dry and your mouth parched.

Law must have noticed your tiredness in your appearance and voice. He reacts almost immediately, enveloping you in a familiar blue film. "Room," he says in that low tone you've come to love before a mug of water appears on the desk in front of you. You blink at him in surprise, humming appreciatively.

"I... Thanks," you say, gripping the mug between your hands before taking generous gulps. He can be so thoughtful when he wants to be, you think, unable to hide the smile gracing your lips as you do so.

He returns your hidden smile with a smile of his own. "Nothing important," he vaguely adds.

You look at him in confusion before realizing his was response was to your previous question. You nod in acknowledgment, deciding not to pry, before setting the now empty mug aside.

Law walks over to his side of the bed, pulling his cap off to set it down on the nightstand, keeping it relatively safe and away from tonight's activities.

"I ran you a bath. Get in it."

He glances at you before striding over to the bathroom. You cock an eyebrow at his retreating figure.

Before you have the chance to retort, he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it over to the laundry basket. The sight of his muscled backside, inked with his jolly roger, makes the words die in your throat.

Before you can stop yourself, your tongue peeks out from the corner of your mouth to moisten your chapped lips. Your thirst was for an entirely different reason now.

"Don't keep me waiting." As if seemingly aware of his effect on you, Law disappears behind the door, the sound of clothes rustling reach your ears, no doubt the sound of the remainder of his clothes being shed. You can hear the amusement dripping in his honeyed tone, can picture the full-blown smirk evident on his face.

You reflexively gulp, feeling your body flush in response to his invitation. You've seen Law naked plenty of times by now, you reassure yourself. Have become well-acquainted with each other's bodies. Know firsthand how the heart tattoo inked on his chest ripples under your teasing touch as your hands trail down his chiseled abs. How the sweat glistens his toned skin and how his usually impassive face contorts in pleasure as he thrusts into-

You shake your head to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.

We're just having a nice relaxing bath together, you think, not entirely convincing yourself.

Following his lead, you stroll over to the laundry basket, stripping yourself of your clothing to join Law in the bath. Your head peeks out from the corner of the open bathroom door while the rest of your naked body remains in the bedroom, away from his prying eyes, your nervous gesture making it appear as though you were an innocent virgin.

Adorable, he thinks.

You look at each other expectantly, your eyes admiring his perfectly relaxed posture. His jet-black hair was in disarray, poking out in all directions, evidence of his combing through them in a careless fashion. His arms were stretched to the sides, slim fingers gripping the edges of the tub. His naked upper body was in full display; the dark ink of his tattoos was a stark contrast to the white bubbles that formed on the surface of the water, obscuring the lower half of his body.

You clear your throat, eyes returning to meet his golden ones that were alight with apparent amusement. "Sorry to intrude."

Law chuckles, the sound of his baritone voice echoing across the bathroom walls, only for your ears to hear. When you take a step forward and close the door behind you, his eyes drop to your naked form, shamelessly admiring your breasts and derrière.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," you say indignantly, pausing right in front of the tub, his brazen admiration of your nudity quickly restoring your confidence.

"I am," he says without hesitation, golden hues darkening with desire at your bold gesture.

Leaning over the tub, you bring your face close to his, lips a breath away from touching. For a moment, you pull back to admire his rugged handsomeness, fingers ghosting over his goatee to his cheek before settling on the back of his neck. Lightly tugging his hair, you pull him in for a chaste kiss, your free hand grasping the edge of the tub for balance. Law has other plans, however, as he reciprocates by licking the bottom of your lips for permission to dive into the wet expanse of your mouth. You let him, of course, moaning at the feel of his demanding tongue as it fights against yours for control.

His hand snakes across the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging, mirroring your previous actions, while his other hand firmly kneads your breast. You groan against his mouth at the display of dominance in his rough handling of your body, loving how depraved he can be when aroused by you.

After what seems like an eternity, his hands gently encircle your waist, coaxing your body to join him into the warm pool of the tub. You oblige, breaking off the kiss to positioning yourself in between his legs, facing toward him. You sigh in contentment at the feel of the bubbled water and the warmth emanating from his bare body. Making an executive decision not to escalate further should both of you decide to forego the bath in favor of more risque activities, you avoid the softness of his lips. Instead, your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving trailing kisses to his jaw before stopping to rest your head at the crook of his shoulder. In response, Law sighs in defeat, hands rubbing reassuring circles against your back. The heated passion of your earlier kiss was replaced with soothing affection.

"Will you wash my hair?" you ask, voice slightly muffled against his skin.

Law looks down at your head nuzzled against him, eyes softening at your vulnerable state. "Honestly, you're hopeless without me," he says before nudging you over to turn around.

You do as your told, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position. His hands reach over the side of the tub for your shampoo, squeezing a sizable portion onto his hands, lathering it up into a foam. His hands weave into your hair, softly massaging the shampoo into your scalp in circular motions, careful to avoid your ears.

You can't help the wide grin that stretches across your face, thankful that your lover can't see your smile from the way you're positioned away from him. Trafalgar Law - a notoriously fearsome pirate, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and a former Warlord of the Sea - is the perfect picture of a doting boyfriend as he methodically applies shampoo onto his girlfriend's head, eyebrows furrowing in deep concentration.

"I love you," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

His hands still for a moment before resuming their ministrations. And though you've said it plenty of times before, he can't help the wild beating of his fragile heart in response to your sincere declaration.

While words fail him, actions don't. Law pulls you into a comforting hug, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders as you lean back against his defined chest, blissful in each other's embrace.

- - - - - - - - - -

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed my writing! I'd love to hear feedback. 💖

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #op fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #mywriting

[aperrywilliams]

When The World Breaks You (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader makes a mistake during a case that triggers a lot of thoughts about a series of stressful events in her recent life. Spencer Reid turns out to be one of them.

Word Count: 6538.

Warnings: Mention to stressful events in relationships. Mention to possible alcohol abuse. Unprotected sex. A lot of curses. Angst. Smut. I promise it’s an ‘optimistic’ end.

A/N: For the Secret Fic Swap. An excellent idea from @dontkissthewriter and organized by @imagining-in-the-margins​.

This fic was written for @safertokiss​. Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcomed!

——————–

We all make mistakes in life. It’s written somewhere. They tell you that since childhood. Everybody knows. But when you have to experience it, things are different: it seems nobody remembers and they throw it in your face every time they can. To err is human. Have they already forgotten it?

It’s true, there are situations where a mistake can be much more costly than others. In this line of work it turns out to be so. One misstep could result in the death of innocent people. In my case it was not like that... but it could have been. Hotch's face of disappointment when he looked at me could have killed me down in the same spot, after he himself shot down the unsub almost by the work and grace of the Holy Spirit. I was wrong. I tried myself to save a little girl from the hands of a psychopath using the most reckless strategy that occurred to me at the time. The girl might have died if Hotch didn’t appeared in the right moment.

It wasn't many minutes before my own teammates started to reproach my recklessness.

"How can you did that (Y/N)? You could have had that girl killed!" shouted Emily.

"You should have waited for reinforcements (Y/N). It was obvious you couldn't handle the unsub" Morgan barked.

"(Y/N), lucky you Hotch showed up at that moment..." JJ hissed.

"Your youthful impetus almost got the worst, (Y/N)..." Rossi mused.

"Tomorrow, first hour of the day, I want your report in my desk (Y/N), and we’ll talk about what happened today" was the last sentence of Hotch.

The only one who didn't say anything was Reid. Although his look of frustration was only comparable to Hotch's. Bent on continuing to torture myself, I walked over to where Spencer was, almost forcing him to speak to me.

“I still haven't heard any ‘comments’ from you about what happened in there. Everyone has already given me their opinion". I snapped with a challenging tone. It was the only thing left for me if I didn't want to cry right there. Reid looked at me but said nothing. “Ah, your punishment for me is the silence. Very original Reid, very original”. I left the place by getting into one of the SUV that would take us back to the jet.

The trip back home was silent. I self-relegated in one of the furthest seats. I looked out the window as the jet's wings touched the clouds. I could feel some compassionate glances from my teammates, but I never made eye contact with them. Nor when we get to the bullpen to collect our things. Nor when I quickly got on the elevator to avoid having to share it with anyone.

When I got to my apartment I just wanted to lie down in my bed. Before reaching my mission, all I did was take off my shoes. I fell slumped on the mattress. Only then did I allow myself to cry. In the solitude of my own place. Place not long ago I shared with another person. Person who decided my job was too demanding and didn’t want to pay the price for my absence. Person who was quickly disappointed in me despite having promised his eternal love in front a civil judge in our wedding. Person I believed loved me unconditionally. To be fair, I forgot that too. My love didn't turn out to be unconditional either.

Love is not unconditional. This is a learning for life my dear friends.

As Hotch requested, I was in his office first hour in the morning with my report from the day before. As he read it, I was standing in front of him with my hands crossed on my stomach and staring blankly at the bookshelf behind Hotch's desk.

"So you agree that it was a reckless decision..." Hotch recited.

"Yes sir. It was. Although the purpose was to save the life of an innocent…”. Hotch interrupted my speech.

“(Y/N), indeed that is the goal of this work, but there are rules too. And if you can't follow the rules, you can't do this job either. I hope you understand that” he stated.

"Yes sir…" was my reply.

“Due to the scope of this case, I cannot leave you without some sanction for your conduct. That is why you’ll be suspended for 2 weeks without payment. I need your badge and your gun”.

I was not surprised by the measure. Although I had a secret hope it would only be a reprimand from Hotch. Hopes are shit. I handed over my gun and my badge. I was about to leave the office when Hotch spoke again.

"(Y/N). I understand you have been through a lot in these months, please try to take these days to rest and clear your head” he suggested.

"Yes sir".

Why was I going to argue with him about it? Was it worth telling him that not even a one-month suspension could be enough to me for clear my head?

I went downstairs to my desk. Again without making eye contact with my co-workers. I grabbed my jacket and purse and walked out of the bullpen into the elevator. Before the doors were closed I heard my name.

"(Y/N), wait!". Reid with one of his arms stopped the door and got on the elevator. I looked at him without saying anything. "Where are you going?".

"I think you know where... and why too". I replied now looking at the elevator floor.

"How long?" He asked.

"Two weeks" I replied dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry". Reid lamented.

"Don’t be sorry. At least I still have my job. For now…”. I assured with a shrug, barely making eye contact with him.

"Do you need something?..." he offered.

“Don't worry about me Reid. I'll be fine". The elevator had reached the subway, opening its doors. I went out and gave him a little warm smile. He did the same. Then the doors closed with him inside. I started walking to the car to get back to my apartment.

It was strange being in my apartment so early. I’m usually one of those who leaves the BAU almost at dusk. At least that's what I had been doing for the last 4 months, after my divorce. Now I was sitting on my couch thinking about what to do in the next two weeks. No idea came to my head. I knew it would be a long two weeks.

The next day I started doing a deep cleaning of the place. It’s not my apartment has been neglected in these months, but there were many things from "my old life" I still had. I started going through boxes with my ex-husband's things: there were clothes, sporting goods he didn’t take with him, books. I also found photographs. The vast common of them I tore up and throwed into a trash can, however, I stopped at my wedding photos. Smiles were everywhere. Many of the photographs with both of us at the altar, others dancing. There was a photo of us with the BAU team at the party. Memories of that moment quickly came to my mind. Precisely after taking that photograph in particular.

After the photographer captured the moment, my husband gave me a sweet peck on my lips and told me he would go and talk with his family a while. I nodded, meanwhile the BAU girls surrounded me laughing next to me and hugging me for the umpteenth time, happy for me.

I could see Spencer walking away towards one of the corners of the garden. I had seen him act strange a few days ago. But particularly on my wedding day we had hardly spoken a word. Which was strange. Spencer was my best friend, my "partner in crime". That's how it had been since I came to the BAU 4 years ago. Taking advantage of the fact I had a moment of freedom, I approached him. He was sitting on one of the benches in the garden. I sat next to him smiling. He looked at me and gave me a smile too.

"Hey... why are you alone around here?" I asked taking his hand.

"I'm enjoying the fresh air and there is less noise here," he replied.

“I know you are not a friend of loud music. I understand you and I share that. I just must say today has been a roller coaster of things. I'm exhausted”. I confessed but I received no reply.

"Spencer?". He looked at me as if trying to tell me something without words. "What is it? Can you tell me...". After a silence that started to become uncomfortable, he resolved to speak.

"You really love him..." he said. I frowned. I didn't know exactly what he meant.

"Well... if I married him it must be for that, right?". I tried to joke to lighten the mood. But Spencer didn't laugh.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I think I should go…”. He got up from the bench and was going to leave me there with more questions than answers.

"Spencer, wait!... you can't leave like this. Please tell me what's wrong..." I pleaded.

Forcing Spencer to speak at that point must have been one of my biggest mistakes in a long time. How often does your best friend confess he has been in love with you for years on your wedding day?

Only in the movies. The difference is that in the movies the bride runs off with the lover, leaving the groom behind and living happily ever after. It was not my case. Spencer was the one who ran off, alone… while I stood on the bench with tears rolling down my cheeks, a confession and millions of doubts that beginning to fill my mind.

Of course I was in love with my husband. Perhaps a somewhat childish love, but we had known each other for so many years that it was difficult for me to imagine myself otherwise than being married to him, having children, a house and a dog. That was my dream since I was 16 years old.

But things change. My life also changed. I studied Forensic Psychology and fell so in love with my major that I wanted to join the FBI to put what I had learned into real practice. This is how I came to the BAU afterwards. A whole world opened before my eyes. I faced the best and the worst of the world. My innocence faded over time. I was much more aware of what was happening around me. And I was happy with that.

I fell in love with my job too. I also bonded with my co-workers. I started spending more time with Emily, JJ and Penelope both on and off work. But what changed me the most was making friends with Spencer Reid. When we met, the first thing I noticed was his shyness. It seemed adorable to me. As we got to know each other I understood many things about his character, just as he understood many things about me as well.

The jet trips, the talks at the local police stations, the theories about the unsubs were made much more bearable thanks to Spencer. At some point I asked myself if our friendship could be something more. I didn't think it was possible. But the doubts came all the times I had a strong argument with my boyfriend. Arguments that sometimes ended with me leaving the apartment we shared and crashing into Spencer's place crying on his shoulder.

I remembered one of those times. It was a strong discussion. Triggered by my prolonged absence thanks to the cases that kept us traveling all over the country. Like the previous times I ended up in Reid's apartment drowning my sorrows in his chest.

"(Y/N)… can I ask you a question?" I just nodded, still sobbing. "Are you sure you love him?... I mean… maybe I said it wrong... I don't have doubts you love him, but do you think this relationship is working for you?..."

“It has worked so far. It's true… we have our ups and downs, but… I don't know… it's just I wish he could understand what my life is really like…"

"And if he doesn't?... how many more chances will you give him (Y/N)?... don't hurt yourself more, please...".

My memory recalls the way he looked at me. At first I thought it was compassion. ‘Poor woman, in love with a man who doesn't understand her.’ But then I thought I saw something else. A plea? I didn't really know what it was.

Without thinking, I let myself be carried away and wrapped my arms around his neck, crashing my lips on his. A simple impulse that ended with me and Reid making out on his couch. And boy I did enjoy it!. And I'm sure he did too. But we were both cowardly enough to admit it.

After that things were strange between us. Until one day I faced him. I needed to know what his true feelings were. The bastard denied it. He said he only wanted me as a friend, that I deserved to be happy with my boyfriend and that ours was just a good friendship.

I let it go. We returned to our dynamic of good friends. Things seemed to take their normal course. My boyfriend proposed to me, the fights between us disappeared. Thus faded the nights when I came crying to Spencer's apartment. I was feeling happy. Excited. Until that moment in my wedding party, in the garden, when Spencer left me with his confession stabbing my chest.

I didn't want to think about that. I had given him a chance to open up earlier. And he didn’t do it. Spencer fucking Reid kept the silent. And I didn't say anything either. Maybe if I had given him a sign. But it was too late. I had to get on with my life. And that's what I did.

A year of happiness. That was how long my marriage lasted. And not because I haven't tried. I really tried. But Reid was right. Sooner or later the opportunities would no longer be enough. Promises weren't sufficient to keep alive the illusion of life as I had dreamed of as a teenager.

*************

I was worried. It had been 4 days since (Y/N) was suspended and no one had heard from her. I asked Prentiss and she only told me she texted her to know how she was doing and (Y/N) replied with a dry ‘fine’.

Besides being worried, I was upset. No one on the team had bothered to visit (Y/N). Months ago it would have been my mission, but given the circumstances maybe it wasn't a good idea. I was annoyed by the idea she was struggling alone with this situation. It was not fair. None of this was fair.

That she couldn't be happy wasn't fair. And that we couldn't be together was my fault. My silence. I lied when I could have told the truth. There is not a day I don’t regret that.

My second mistake was speaking at the wrong time. I couldn't bear it and in a moment of weakness I confessed my feelings to (Y/N). And it was selfish, I know. A chain of bad decisions I tried to bury over time.

And it seemed time was working. She was happy with her husband, or so I thought. While we tried to return to our friendship routine. Perhaps that is another of the biggest lies in the universe: ours would never be the same. Ours will never be the same again. I didn't find out things were going wrong in her marriage until it was all broken. I could notice some things about her behavior, but she was never going to tell me anything about that part of her life, ever again.

On the sixth day of her suspension, my worry began to overwhelm me. This time I wasn’t the only one who was concerned. Emily and JJ tried to contact (Y/N) but she just didn't answer the phone. Even Hotch had left messages on her voicemail to check her status. None had an answer.

I couldn't sit idly by. What if something had happened to her? Sure she wouldn't want to talk to me, but at least I needed to know she was okay. That afternoon I left the BAU heading to her apartment. Upon arrival, I knocked on the door twice. But I got no answer. Maybe she had gone out to buy something. Or maybe something had happened to her and she couldn't open the door. I hesitated what to do for a while. I paced outside her door until anxiety got the better of me. I still had the spare key to her apartment. I knew it wasn't appropriate, but my concern won. I opened the door and launched to inspect the place.

She was not in the apartment. The place was a bit messy, but it wasn't a mess itself. I found many boxes in the living room, some half packed. They didn't seem to be her things, which partly reassured me. For a second I thought she was moving somewhere else. What made me uneasy was seeing several empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. That gave me an idea of where she might be at that specific moment.

I quickly reached (Y/N)'s favorite bar scanning through the crowd until I saw her near the bar counter with a group of men surrounding her. I stepped closer and crossed the circle of testosterone that shrouded (Y/N). Seeing me, she raised up her arms to signal my arrival.

“And here is my favorite genius! Dr. Spencer Reid!" (Y/N) chimed obviously drunk. When I managed to get to her side, she threw her arms over me, almost falling from the tabouret where she was sitting next to the bar. I hold her with my arms, restoring some balance to her. As I spoke to the group of predators still looking at (Y/N).

"Well. The show ended here. You can go to the other side of the bar”. I announced to the marauders who, puffing, broke the circle around (Y/N) dispersing.

“You are a killjoy Reid. You always have been”. Despite her condition she knew exactly how to hit me with her words.

"Let's go. I'll take you home" I stated.

When we left the bar, she stopped and didn't want to keep walking.

"Reid... really, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to look for you…" I mumbled.

"You didn't have to... I'm fine, don't you see me? Won-der-ful…" she tried to joke.

"(Y/N)... you're drunk... let me take you home" I insisted.

"Noooo, I don't want to. I'm fine here. Let me…"

"Please come with me". I demanded and grabbed her forearm.

"I don't want to be hurt any more Spencer... leave me alone" she complained.

"I know. But let me help you…"

"You cannot. Nobody can help me. Everyone abandons me and it's my fault...". (Y/N) tried to left my grip.

"Don’t say that. It's not your fault". I hugged her and she stopped struggling but started sobbing into my chest.

We held each other for a moment. The sobs gave way to hiccups. When (Y/N) was calmer, I managed to get her into the car. I drove to her apartment. When I stopped the car, I noticed she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the car window. Carefully, I opened the passenger door and took her in my arms, bridal style. She only let out a groan, but not fully awake. I went upstairs with her to the floor of her apartment, took out the key, opened the door and we went inside.

As gently as I could, I laid her on the bed. I took off her shoes and tucked her with the duvet. Again I heard her sobs.

"Why did it have to be like this?..." she muttered. I didn't know what to answer her.

"It's my fault. I end up ruining everything. I always make mistakes that end up ruining everything…” she cried. I knew it wasn't a good time to talk, but (Y/N) needed to be able to at least sleep in peace.

"No, don’t say that. You better sleep now. Tomorrow we can talk about this".

"You will stay with me?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Only if you want me to stay..."

"Please…" she begged.

I took off my shoes and cuddled next to her under the duvet. I wrapped my arms around her body and after a few minutes I felt her breathing much quieter, a sign that she had fallen asleep.

When I woke up next morning, (Y/N) was still sleeping. I knew she would be in that condition for at least a couple of hours, when the light in the room will wake up her and make her feel the hangover in her body. I gently got up and went to the living room. I wondered if it was really wise to stay until she woke up or maybe I should just leave her and go home. I wanted to be able to talk to her, but I wasn't sure if it would be the best time. I laughed at myself after that thought. Is there a better time for us at anything? That didn't exist in our books.

I made myself a coffee and grabbed some of the books from her shelf. I struggled with the urge to explore the things that were inside the boxes scattered around the room. I sat down on the couch and started reading.

A few hours later I heard (Y/N) walking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, turning on the shower faucets. I got up from the couch and started making coffee again. She was going to need it. I also started making some toast. After a while she came out of the bathroom straight into the bedroom again. A few more minutes passed and she peeked into the kitchen where I was finishing buttering the toast.

"You didn't need to make breakfast..." she remarked, making her presence known. I raised my head to look at her.

"At least you need the coffee..." I suggested as I handed her the mug of coffee.

"It’s true. Thank you". She sat down and after a sip put the coffee on the table.

"How do you feel?"

"The shower helped... but the hangover won't leave me for a good couple of hours," she complained. I put the plate of toast on the table and sat across from her with my own coffee. We fell silent as we drank our coffee and ate our toasts.

When there was no more coffee or toast left, (Y/N) started talking.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night." She mused.

"You don’t have to apologize…". I shook my head.

"Yes. I need to. Although I don't know how you knew I was there, you brought me back safely. Thank you". Her eyes felt into the empty mug.

“It was not a bother to me. I was worried about you (Y/N). In fact, I'm worried about you,” I confessed, looking again at the empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. She followed my line of sight and knew exactly what I meant.

“I'm fine Reid… so don't worry. I have accumulated them in all these days. It's not so big deal either" she bragged.

“I don't think you're okay (Y/N). You've avoided calls and messages from the whole team these days…". I stated.

“I just wanted to be peaceful, Reid. As you can see, I’m trying to 'clean up' my life,” (Y/N) assured as she pointed to the boxes scattered around the room.

"You don't have to do that alone..." I implied trying to get into the matter.

"Reid, please… don’t do this. You know I can't let you do this…” she mumbled.

"Why not? Please (Y/N)... why do you want to keep pushing people away from you?".

“Not all people. Only you". Her overabundance of sincerity didn’t surprise me, but at that moment it left me speechless. "Sorry to say it like that, but you can't pretend things are the way they were at the beginning." She was right, but I wasn't ready to lose this fight.

"Will you never forgive me for telling you about my feelings that night at your wedding?" I shouted running one of my hands through my hair.

"Not that. I’ll never forgive you for keeping silent when I asked you what you felt before!" she yelled at me back.

"(Y/N)... I was scared...". I tried to explain.

“I was scared too Reid!... but I had hopes. The hopes you killed at that time," she grumbled taking her head with both hands.

"Do you think it was easy for me?"

"I don’t care. If you had told me maybe I would have cared. I'm not a fucking fortune teller Reid!" She got up from her chair and began pacing the room. We were getting back into this discussion, again.

"I just… I never thought you would do it..." I said defeated.

"What? Get married?... why shouldn't I?". She asked in exasperation.

"Because you didn't love him!!!" I screamed.

"How do you know that? Damn it Reid!"

"Because if you really loved him, you would never have come to my apartment every time you both had an argument! That was never love (Y/N)! It was your dream, but it was never real!"

"What do you know about love?, ah?... are you really going to give me a lecture on something you have no idea? You weren't even able to face me when you made your big reveal. That's not love either Reid"

"Watch your words (Y/N), you have no idea what you're talking about" I warned her.

"Oh no? Enlighten me genius"

I got up quickly from the chair. I took one of her wrists and pulled it towards me. I cupped her cheeks with both hands and bumped my lips to hers. (Y/N) tried to pull away from me for a second, but then she melted into the kiss just like I did at the time. If words weren't enough, I hoped that kiss could help me ‘tell’ her everything I was feeling. When we both run out of air, we pulled away.

“If you didn't always have the compulsion of saying the last word, maybe I would have shown you earlier. But no! Always contradicting (Y/N)! " I muttered panting.

“What the fuck Reid?. Do you think a kiss is enough to silence me?". She pulled away trying to catch her breath and not knowing whether to keep yelling at me or to leave the room.

"No, not with a kiss. I know. Of course it is not enough with you (Y/N). I think I’m just starting with you".

“Where does this dominance come from? Eh Reid? What are you trying to prove?" she asked me defiantly.

"Just shut up (Y/N)... and stop calling me Reid". I protested. How difficult is for this woman to give up in a fight, for God sake!

"Make me... Reid". She challenged me back.

The tension built up over the years seemed to have exploded at that moment. I took her wrists again to attract her to my body, with one of my hands I took her hair and yanked it back to make her look at me.

"Stop it (Y/N). You don't want me to make you" I managed to mutter before collapsing my lips with hers again. This time the kiss was more passionate and extensive. I couldn't keep my hands still, while with one I was still yanking (Y/N)’s hair, the other started to down her back by entangling my fingers in the edge of her shirt. As I put my fingers under the shirt to touch her bare back, I felt a moan from (Y/N). That encouraged me to continue. Releasing my other hand from her hair, I grabbed the other end of her shirt, pulling it, take it off her body and throwing it to the floor. My lips began to search for the sweet spot on her neck that I knew existed and always wanted to explore. When I found it, another groan came from (Y/N)'s mouth. Those moans quickly turned me on. With my hands traveling down her nearly bare back, I paused on the clasp of her bra, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the floor. An exciting sigh left my mouth when I could see her naked half.

(Y/N) looked at me expectantly. Her eyes inviting me to continue, but I started to worry that no words come out of her mouth.

"Is something wrong?... do you want me to stop?"

"What are we doing Spencer...?" she said panting.

“What I think we should have done so long ago. And because of me we couldn't. But if you don't want to, I'll stop”. I assured her as I stroked her cheeks with my knuckles.

"Shit Spencer... I don't want to die without you fucking me once in life at least...". With that she threw herself into my arms and started to unbutton my dress shirt.

"God (Y/N)... you don’t how much I want you." I whispered to her as I dropped my dress shirt to the floor and my hands searched for her bare breasts. My lips and tongue tracing paths on her collarbone. Her arms were around my neck gripping tightly.

“Show me, you fucking coward! Prove you mean it!” she told.

“This time you don’t have to tell me twice…”.

I took her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the mattress, while I undid the clasp on my belt and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She slipped her sweatpants, exposing her body only in her lace. I laid down next to her, tracing eager paths in her bare skin with my fingers.

"You are so fucking beautiful (Y/N)... you drive me crazy...". I blurted, peppering kisses and sucking one of her nipples. (Y/N) stroked my hair as I keep my mouth attached into her breasts. My hands went down her waist and stopped in her thighs for a while. Then my fingers traveled anxiously across her belly, her hips, and her ass. I looked at her with fire in the eyes and could see how (Y/N) was breathing heavily holding her eyes on me as I slide her panties off, one leg at a time. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and buried my mouth between her legs, nibbling on the skin while I was holding her hip with both hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but arch her back, letting out a deep whine.

"Oh fuck Spencer... shit… please…" she moan not expecting to be coherent in her words. I was decided to go further, so my hands started to slide into her inner thighs. I wanted to explore the depths of her core. Not so gently I put one of my fingers inside her. The moisture I found did nothing but arouse me more. The contact sure caused more stimulation on her and she started to move and buck to feel more depth and friction.

"Please... Spencer... if we are going to do this, I need more...". Her words made me put a second finger. She shuddered on contact again. I couldn't help but bite my lower lip as I looked (Y/N)'s eyes stiff at the sensation running through her body. At the movement of my fingers inside her, (Y/N) was unable to control her own, seeking to deepen the feeling by riding hard on them. I lowering my tongue until reached her folds. I slipped my tongue to catch some of her moisture mixed with my own saliva. A stifled moan from me made (Y/N) tremble at the vibration of my voice running through her body. I put a third finger inside her while my tongue focused on her clit, licking and sucking the exposed nerve.

(Y/N) let out almost a cry bursting with pleasure. I speed up the actions of my fingers and my tongue and I could feel (Y/N) shiver under my touch. I heard her moaning louder as she held on to my hair. I knew she was close to her release because her body trembled at every thrusting of my fingers and slapping of my tongue.

"Oh fuck... I can't... Spencer... please... don't stop... I'm going to cum..." she said frenzy as her nails scratched my shoulders.

"Do it love, cum in my fingers... do it... let me feel how you undone beneath me…" I gasped trying to help her to find her release, while the thrusts of my fingers became more frantic than ever.

"Fuck... Spencer... uhhh, shit!" It was the last she could say before falling hard at her ecstasy. She was trembling completely with her eyes lost on the ceiling. When the spasms stopped, I pulled my fingers out, tasting her arousal in my mouth and looking at her. Her messy hair, the sweat running down her forehead and her eyes full of pleasure. It couldn't have been more pleasing for me.

“I think you need a reward for this so… come here. I need you to fuck me with your cock right now… please…”. (Y/N) demanded still panting.

I just chuckled meanwhile I slipped off my boxers and then placed my hips between her legs lining up my cock at her entrance. My slow entry produced a unison groan in both of us.

"Oh fuck (Y/N)... you're so tight for me..." was the only thing I said before (Y/N) raised her hips without warning to feel me fully in her. A roar tore from my mouth as I grabbed her hips to start moving inside her. The thrusts started slow but intense, accompanied by gasps and sweat. I increased the speed of my thrusts in the next minutes. The desire to feel each other had reached a point of no return for both. The moans mingled with the vocalization of our names only increased arousal in us. I could feel her walls tighten with friction and it drove me madder and louder. She was very close to losing herself in ecstasy. Her body began to tremble, which made me hasten my pace. I put one of my fingers over her clit and traced circular movements on it. The (Y/N)’s moans increased in time and noise.

"Fuck Spencer... Oh yeah, right there. More please… Spencer, harder…”. She exclaimed in ecstasy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good with my cock inside you. Do you like it?, tell me… I want to hear you… use your words…”. I needed to hear her voice.

"Harder Spencer. You are fucking me so good. Please don't stop… I love you. I wanted this so badly… so time ago…”

“This time I'm not going to let you go. Tell me, did he touch you like this?... He kissed you like this?... He fucked you like this?"

"Shit… Spencer, it’s not the time to compare yourself to my ex…" (Y/N) moaned.

“I just want you to realize that I’m better than him. That I have more right to have you than he and any other man. That I’m the only man who could love you like you deserves (Y/N)…"

With those words I could feel how the orgasm hit (Y/N) like a train. She screamed my name one last time before getting lost in her heights. I kept my thrusts knowing I was close. Feeling her walls tighten around my cock was enough for a couple more thrusts and reach my own release. And it was better than I had imagined every time I thought about (Y/N) and what sex with her would be like. God! I could stay like this forever.

Even with our shaky breaths and still inside her I looked (Y/N) directly in the eyes. I needed to know her reaction. I just hoped I didn't find regret in her gaze. That would have been death for me.

She looked at me with a glint in her eyes that I couldn't decipher. Tears? I was terrified. I didn't want to lose (Y/N) again.

"Shit Spencer... where did you learn to fuck like that?" she blurt suddenly. We both started laughing. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I only answered with a deep kiss on her lips as I got out of bed in the direction to the bathroom.

I came back with a damp towel to clean up the remains of our recent activities. (Y/N) didn't take her eyes off me but she didn't say a word either. I put the towel on the nightstand and sat on the bed with my back on the backrest.

"Okay, what are you thinking now?" I asked. (Y/N) smiled because she knew exactly that I was going to ask her that question.

“It's just… I find it hard to believe that you really love me. I mean, so much has happened in this time… don't you even have a little doubt going around in your head about this?" she questioned giving me a shy look.

"Not anymore. I had doubts for so long (Y/N), that's why I wasn't able to do anything about it. But I can assure you that there are no more doubts. I love you and I know you love me too. Nonetheless I'm willing to wait for whatever it takes until you're ready. But I’ll never be silent about my feelings for you again. That I can assure you. I promise”. I replied taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm still broken Spencer...". She remind me pressing her lips together and trying to hold back a sob

“(Y/N). I know and I take full responsibility for that too. But now I don´t care all our past mistakes. I don’t care the past itself. I don’t care if you’re broken now. I want to fix this. I want you. I want to make up to you. I want to make you happy. No matter how long it takes me to accomplish that. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll hold you when you need it, I want to be there when the world breaks you. I’ll fight and support you every time that happens…"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N) hugged me tight and buried her head on my chest. Then she raised her gaze to look at me and speak.

"Love is not unconditional Spencer... you know that…" she murmured.

"Not by default my love, but we can build it to make it work for us.". She smiled at my words and after giving me an intense kiss she spoke again.

“I hope you’re right. I know we can try to make it work. I love you Spencer”.

“I love you too (Y/N). We are going to make it. I promise".

———————

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds

[calacuspr]

Calacus Weekly Hit & Miss – Burnley FC & Golf Breakaway (& ESL)

Every Monday we look at the best and worst communicators in the sports world from the previous week.

HIT – BURNLEY FC

One of the consequences of the Covid-19 pandemic has been the absence of fans from sporting events.

Lockdown has meant empty stadia with canned crowd noise piped in for television audiences only.

Premier League games have been behind closed doors since last December, when a handful of games had up to 2,000 fans in attendance before the UK went back into full lockdown.

Some pilot events, such as the Carabao Cup final at Wembley where Manchester City and Tottenham each had 2,000 fans in attendance, have since been held to test the safe return of spectators.

From 17 May, outdoor sports venues in England are due to be allowed up to 10,000 fans or 25% capacity, whichever figure is lower, with final UK government approval announced no later than 10 May.

The Premier League confirmed on Wednesday that no away supporters will be permitted to attend matches for the final two rounds of the 2020/21 season.

There has been criticism of some clubs, with Tottenham Hostpur charging up to £60 a ticket once fans can return.

But Burnley have taken the opposite approach, announcing plans to distribute free tickets to 3,500 fans for their final home game of the season against Liverpool on May 19.

The Clarets will make the ballot available to all supporters who have renewed their season tickets for next season, with successful applicants encouraged to make a donation to NHS Charities Together.

Chairman Alan Pace said: “This fixture is opportunity to reward our loyal season ticket holders who have shown incredible support to the club throughout the pandemic.

“We have therefore decided to make tickets for this fixture free of charge. If supporters are able to, the club is encouraging successful applications in the ballot to consider making a donation to the NHS charities.”

Burnley manager Sean Dyche certainly believes that having fans back will boost his team and football in general.

He added: ““It’s been a tough year for everyone and now it’s about ‘can we come out of it and move forward?’ To see football fans in a ground in my world and the football world be a really good sign of things getting back to normal.”

MISS – GOLF BREAKAWAY & ESL

No sooner has the dust settled on football’s Super League than some of the biggest names in golf are being tempted to join the ‘World Tour’ despite threats to ban them from the professional game.

Players including world No 1 Dustin Johnson and Justin Rose have been offered contracts worth up to $100m to take part in a breakaway event, and the authorities have been quick to warn those who take part.

PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monagan has told participants that they would face an instant suspension and a lifetime ban with The Daily Telegraph reporting that others who have been offered contracts include Brooks Koepka, Bryson DeChambeau, Henrik Stenson, Adam Scott and Rickie Fowler.

Backed by Saudi Arabian investors and fronted by Majed al-Sorour, the chief executive of Golf Saudi, the ‘World Tour’ would feature individual and team formats over 12 to 18 events with a suggested launch in September 2022.

European Tour chief executive, Keith Pelley, issued a statement condemning the proposals.

He said: “We are aligned with the PGA Tour in opposing, in the strongest possible terms, any proposal for an alternative golf league.

"Since the launch of our strategic alliance last November, our two organisations have been working together to make global golf less fractured and not create further division, with the interests of all players and fans at the forefront of our thinking."

Rory McIlroy, who chairs the Players Advisory Committee on the PGA Tour, also criticised the plans and believes the traditions of the game are being forgotten.

McIlroy commented: “It's a competitive threat. I don't think there's a better structure in place in golf, and I don't think there will be," McIlroy said.

"Go back to what happened last week in Europe with the European Super League in football. People can see it for what it is, which is a money grab, which is fine if what you're playing golf for is to make as much money as possible. Totally fine, then go and do that if that's what makes you happy.

"I'm playing this game to try to cement my place in history and my legacy and to win major championships and to win the biggest tournaments in the world.

“And the possibility is that people, if they do go in that direction, can't play in the biggest tournaments in the game? The game of golf, whether it's a right thing or a wrong thing, is so about history.

“If you move further away from that, you're basically losing the essence of what competitive golf is."

This story is going to run and run and it remains to be seen how strong the proposals really are, with the organisers yet to make an official statement.

Meanwhile, UEFA has made an other positive step to move on from the European Super League debacle by announcing fines for nine of the clubs that were involved in the breakaway.

In a statement UEFA President Aleksander Ceferin said: “I said at the Uefa congress two weeks ago that it takes a strong organisation to admit making a mistake, especially in these days of trial by social media. These clubs have done just that.

"In accepting their commitments and willingness to repair the disruption they caused, Uefa wants to put this chapter behind it and move forward in a positive spirit.

"These clubs recognised their mistakes quickly and have taken action to demonstrate their contrition and future commitment to European football.”

The nine clubs - Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool, Manchester City, Manchester United and Tottenham Hotspur, plus AC Milan, Inter Milan and Atletico Madrid - have committed to the European governing body and its competitions and will make a combined 15m euros goodwill contribution to benefit children's and grassroots football across Europe.

They will also have 5% of UEFA competition revenues withheld for one season, starting in 2023-24, and this money will be redistributed, including in the UK.

However, Real Madrid, Barcelona and Juventus are set to face "appropriate action" under Uefa's disciplinary process.

Ceferin added: “The same cannot be said for the clubs that remain involved in the so-called Super League and Uefa will deal with those clubs subsequently."

Needless to say, those three powerhouses of European fooball, whose ambitious spending is clearly at the heart of their financial struggles, issued a defiant statement suggesting that they are being victimised for refusing to withdraw from the ESL project.

The joint statement read: “The founding clubs have suffered, and continue to suffer, unacceptable third-party pressures, threats, and offenses to abandon the project and therefore desist from their right and duty to provide solutions to the football ecosystem via concrete proposals and constructive dialogue.

“We would be highly irresponsible if, being aware of the needs and systemic crisis in the football sector, which led us to announce the Super League, we abandoned such mission to provide effective and sustainable answers to the existential questions that threaten the football industry.

“For the good of football and for the financial sustainability of the sector, we have the duty to act in a responsible manner and persevere in the pursuit of adequate solutions, despite the unacceptable and ongoing pressures and threats received from UEFA.”

Delusional is one word that comes to mind from the tone and content of the statement, criticising the governance of football and the other clubs that have now fallen back into line with no hint of regret or apology in sight.

It will be interesting to see what punishments UEFA hands out - three of the biggest clubs in football being banned from European club competitions for one season would certainly not be a surprise.

#racism in football #Arsenal #UEFA #Tottenham Hotspur #Aleksander Ceferin #UEFA Champions League #European Super League #Florentino Perez #Real Madrid #Juventus #Barcelona FC #Rory McIlroy #PGA Tour #Dustin Johnson #European Tour #Burnley FC #Premier League #Justin Rose #Golf World Tour

[hopes4gf]

Wings of Fire ( A MHA Fanfic): The Surge

Villains enter the scene and we all gear up for battle.

They all surround us and we engage in fight mode.

”Wanna test out Midoriya’s theory?” I ask Shoto.

”Now or never, sis,” Shoto agrees.

Me and him stand back to back and we use both sides of our power to blast the villains back. I use my blue flame to surround and circle the villains meanwhile Shoto uses his ice to bind them.

“Nice flames, Aki, you're practically doing my job for me,” Shoto says, building ice walls.

”Watch out for those big guys, Sho!” I shout catching his attention.

”You scared to lose to kids? Your adults, put up a fight, damn it!” Shoto says to the villains.

Before they can attack Shoto, I trap them in an ability with my fire called Hell Ring, where the flames form a ring around my opponent and slowly close in on them.

Bakugo is on the other side of the room with a villain pinned to the floor by his grip.

”You move and I’ll blast you ass so bad, that they’ll be piecing you together for weeks,” Bakugo exclaims.

”Well, that’s not very heroic,” Kirishima says.

”All clear!” Shoto signals to them.

”Clear!” Kirishima says.

All Might finally shows up and recites his famous phrase and reminds us to go Plus Ultra.

The police show up and secure some of the villains.

We all go home for the day.

Before I can leave, a hand grips my wrist.

”Call me, loser,” Bakugo says, handing me slip of paper before returning to his group.

I stand there in shock and look at the paper.

”Kirishima convinced me to give you my number. Don’t keep me waiting,” The note reads, with his phone number underneath.

I smile to myself and put his number into my phone as I walk beside Shoto.

”You seem happy, what’s going on?” Shoto asks.

”Bakugo gave me his number,” I say.

”What?” Shoto says, stopping in his tracks.

”And he wants me to call him tonight,” I say with a smirk.

”Dad’s gonna kill you for this,” Shoto reminds.

”Dont think you’d not go down with me. I know about your little girlfriend too,” I say.

Shoto’s eyes widen in realization.

”S-she’s not my girlfriend...yet at least,” Shoto says nervously.

”Oh is she?” I ask sarcastically.

”Not a word,” Shoto says with a huff.

I laugh at my brother’s demeanor.

We make it home and find Dad sitting on the couch waiting for us.

This ought to be good...

”Shoto, Ayamaki, sit please,” Dad orders.

We drop our things and we sit in front of him.

”When I went to UA, there was an event where only the best students would battle against each other in a series of competitions demonstrating their quirks, I want you both to do it,” Dad says in a stern tone.

”You mean the sport’s festival?” Shoto asks.

”Correct. There, you will demonstrate your quirks in the best fashion. This will be your first public debut since the entrance exam. I’m constantly reminded everyday that you two represent what I do for that school. And I know the both of you will excel. These are the foundations of becoming the next number one and two heroes. And the next chapter of our legacy. Don’t mess this up,” Dad recalls.

We both nod in agreement and return to our routines.

As I greet Fuyumi, I turn behind me and see Dad sitting there, thinking and deliberating. It almost reminds me of what I try to do at lunch without Katsuki in my way.

Suddenly, a memory comes to mind.

One day, Dad decided to give me a lesson. A lesson on thinking before I act rather than using pure instinct.

”Analyze what’s ahead of you. Think about it’s shape, the way it moves, and if you look away for a single second. You’ll lose you target,” He used to say.

We went through endless trials that constantly winded me. My brother stood by the door the whole time, covering for my usual place. He would try and peek inside to see what he would do to me.

He would scream orders at me and grip my skin underneath his fiery grasp. Eventually, that day he finally cracked in front of me. Showed me his true colors.

He threw a knife at me. I missed.

He sliced my arm wide open and I had never seen so much blood in my life. He stared at me with those cold blue eyes of his. My enemy was ahead of me. His eyes had only one solid color in them. But I knew deep down, he painfully regretted his choice to train me. Because he told me.

Told me I wasn’t worthy of his advice. Told me I wasn’t as worthy as my brother. Told me I’d never make it.

And as he sits there, deliberating as he taught me once to. My scar starts to ache, remembering when he first drew that knife to my skin.

If I’m going to win. I’m not winning for him.

Suddenly, my mind switches the memory of my mother when I visited her in the hospital that one night. She told me to prove my father wrong.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do at the sports festival next week.

————————————————

The next day,

We all attempt to walk out of our classroom for lunch but are crowded by the other students in the hero courses who are interested in the festival.

”They’re scouting out the competition, idiots,” Bakugo says, slyly grabbing his things and pushing past our other classmates.

”Just like you would,” I comment.

He turns to me with a smirk on his face and winks.

“We’re the ones that defeated those villains. At least you know what a future pro looks like,” Bakugo says, scouting the crowd.

“Now, move it, extras,” Bakugo says sternly to the students.

”You walk around calling them extras just because you don’t know them!” Iida scolds.

Bakugo scoffs and pushes through the crowd.

“Bakugo, what’re you doing?” Kirishima asks.

”These people don’t matter, what’s important is that I beat them. Just ask Aki,” Bakugo says, then continuing through the crowd.

Later, we all head to the stadium to prepare for the events of the afternoon.

"Is there something going on between you and Bakugo?" Kirishima asks me.

"We've spoken a couple of times. I'm pretty sure you can already tell but he's competitive for a reason. He puts up a front because he's terrified as hell of losing. He'll never admit it personally but he uses it as a coping mechanism. He wants power so he does feel hopeless. If you're asking for my opinion, he does it because he knows what if feels like not to have power,"  I admit.

"I've definitely picked up on that, I don't think it's very manly to hide your fear. It should drive you to be better," Kirishima says, giving me his thoughts.

"Listen, you're one of his best friends, I can see that, if you wanna make him loosen up, be real with him. And help him actually say what's on his damn mind," I advise.

"Well that's one way to put it," Kirishima comments, recognizing my slight harshness.

"That's the only way to understand it when it comes to him," I say.

Soon, I join Shoto's side and we both look at the TV monitors, we both spot Dad sitting by All Might.

"Both of them are watching," He comments.

"What do you think will happen if we mess this up?" I ask.

"As long as one of us succeeds, I think we'll be fine," Shoto says.

"Obviously, it's you who'll succeed," I say sternly.

"You're probably right. Dad's really been pushing me lately," He says in a monotone.

My eyes soften. I realize that Shoto doesn't have a single ounce of emotion in his voice. Instead of acknowledging me, he's hyper-focused on what he'll do.

I close my eyes and walk away from him, he calls after me, but I ignore him.

He's gonna leave me. I sure as hell know it.

We all head to the entrance of the Festival, where Class 1A prepares to go out. Shoto gives me a concerned look and I glare at him. We all head out confidently, and we look around as we see several heroes and adoring fans in the crowd.

I spot Dad and All Might looking down at us, but Dad doesn't look me in eye, he stares beside me at Shoto. I scowl at move forward by Momo.

"What's got you all fired up?" She asks.

"My old man's in the crowd," I tell her sternly.

"Damn, I didn't know this was so important," Momo says.

"He wants us to join his hero agency. They do these festivals to scout for interns and sidekicks. My father has 38 sidekicks, he wants me and Sho as his 39th and 40th ones. Me and him decline every damn time, but it seems like he's getting even more desperate with time. Especially, with Shoto. Every one knows that he could care less about me," I say in a serious tone.

"What? But you're his daughter," Momo questions.

"But Shoto is his masterpiece," I say honestly.

"And you're not okay with that," Momo realizes.

At this point I'm at the verge of crying in front of all my classmates. I wish I could tell them all about how I feel, but with my dad staring down at me, I can't risk it.

I choke back own tears and settle my focus ahead, where Midnight stands at a podium.

"Welcome to the annual UA Sports Festival!" Midnight announces.

My mind starts to wander, thinking about the pressure placed upon us. My dad looking to me and Shoto as his future legacy, Shoto kicking me aside, my classmates questioning my relationship with Bakugo, Bakugo getting curious about my family, my friends and their praise of my quirk, all this pressure is boiling over. This is the breaking point.

Midnight asks if any classmate would like to share any words, before any of us can go up, Bakugo walks forward.

He taps the mic to check it.

"U-um, all I'm gonna say is...I'm gonna win," Bakugo says calmly.

"I knew he was gonna say something stupid like that!" All of Class 1A says including me.

The crowd boos at him and I see from the corner of my eye that Dad narrows his eyes.

Soon, the first challenge is presented and we all start to team up in groups.

"Icy-Hot, get your ass over here," Bakugo calls.

"Aki, I need one last member on my team," Shoto calls.

I narrow my eyes at Shoto.

"If I'm going to be anything to you, it's certainly not last," I spit at him, huffing and walking towards Bakugo.

"Family drama, eh?" Bakugo asks with a smirk.

"I've been ready to beat that son of bitch since the entrance exam," I say, cracking knuckles.

"That's the spirit!" Bakugo agrees confidently.

Kirishima, Mina, Sero and I hoist up Bakugoso he can capture our teams headband points. Kirishima stands at the front using his hardness quirk to protect and me and Mina stand on his sides, using our quirks to defend and Sero stand at the back to defend the rear.

The battle begins and I use my ice quirk to shoot icicle daggers at the headband, they come back to us like boomerangs and Bakugo captures them.

"Nice shot, hot stuff!" Bakugo compliments.

"I'll keep 'em coming!" I say in return.

Bakugo smirks and leaps towards Midoriya whose in the air.

"God damn it, Katsuki!" I yell.

Present Mic catches on, announcing his departure to the crowd.

Sero uses his tape to bring him back but his headband is stolen.

"Kirishima...change of plans...lets kill all these guys!" Bakugo says in a low growl.

Before we know, Kaminari uses his electricity to create smoke, through the smoke I see Shoto freeze the ground completely, I use my Hell Ring to protect the group, fighting back.

"Let's go!" Bakugo says.

"Seriously, we're counting on you!" Kirishima says.

"Die!" Bakugo exclaims, charging up his explosions.

A blonde bowl haired guy copies Kirishima's hardening to dodge Bakugo's explosions.

From the corner of my eye, I see Iida blazing past Midoriya, capturing his headbands, leaving him with zero points.

Bakugo leaps towards the blonde kid again and grabs his headbands, leaping us to third place.

"Bakugo! Don't act on your own!" Kirishima advises.

"We have to get third place, you idiots," Bakugo says, hitting Kirishima's head various times.

"Hit it, Icy-Hot!" Bakugo orders.

I create an ice platform pushing us forward and he accelerates it by using his explosions.

He grabs the blonde kid's last headband and we leap to second place.

I watch from the side as Todoroki dodges Midoriya's attack...

He used his fire quirk. For the first time since middle school. I bet that made Dad smile.

Bakugo leaps off once again towards my brother, trying to capture his headbands but...

"Times up!" Present Mic screams.

The crowd erupts, reacting to the challenge.

"Are you okay?" Me and Kirishima ask.

Bakugo only hits the ground beneath him as he's planted face first.

My brother leads first place succeeding me.

I help Bakugo off the floor and slap him.

"That's what you get for acting alone, you dumbass!" I yell.

"It's not my damn fault the time ran out!" Bakugo yells back at me.

"Guys, it's over now, you might wanna-" Kirishima starts.

"No! It's not over until we get first!" Me and Bakugo both yell at the same time.

We look at each other dumbfoundedly, both realizing we said the same thing at once.

We both look away and blush. Mina grabs my arm and we all walk to the inside of the arena.

As I stand in the waiting room, I think about Shoto and Dad's influence on him.

Is Dad the reason he's been distant? Why do they doubt me? I see Shoto and Midoriya slip away from the room and I follow them.

When I reach their destination, I realize I'm not alone.

"What're you doing here?!" Me and Bakugo both whisper yell.

"I'm going to see my brother, frankly, what are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm going to see Deku, now shut up so I can hear," Bakugo says.

He towers above me as we both eavesdrop.

"Are you All Might's secret love child or something?" Shoto asks.

I snicker softly at my brother's question and Bakugo kicks my ankles to shut me up.

"Endeavor's my old man. If you are, that makes you more of my enemy. Since he couldn't surpass All Might, he moved on to his next plan. I'm sure you know what Quirk Marriage is," Shoto starts.

My eyes widen. I feel the air grow thick in my lungs and my eyes water. Why is he saying this? Why is Bakugo listening?

"Forcing people into marriage. He won over my mother's relatives and got ahold of my mother's quirk. I will beat you using only my right side. My mother's quirk," Shoto says, starting to walk away.

"I'll beat you too," Midoriya says, emotion building in his voice.

I look at Bakugo and see his eyes soften.

Mom told him. Mom finally told him the truth.

What I wanted to say to Bakugo finally came out. Before Bakugo can turn to face me, I bolt. Tears stream down my eyes as I run. Running as fast as I can past all the doors and hallways. I find an empty room and light a chair on fire. I scream and sob, breaking everything in sight.

"Fucking asshole! You damn idiot!" I scream.

I drop to my knees and sob. The once locked door is kicked open. I don't look up until i feel arms wrapped around me.

"Shh, it's fine," Bakugo says softly in my ear, cooing me.

I cry deeply into his chest as memories rush through my head. The memory of hearing mom's screams, seeing Shoto's scars. Touya leaving. Natsu's depression. Dad training me. Every moment of agony and heart break rushing through me. Each one more painful than the last.

"Get away from me!" I say, trying to get Bakugo off of me.

"Aki," Bakugo says.

I look up and see Bakugo's crimson eyes staring back at me. His eyes are sincere for the first name. The sound of my name coming from his mouth rings in my ear.

He said my name.

No nicknames, no jokes, just...my name.

"That's what you wanted to tell me. That one day in the classroom. That your father was a damn scumbag for doing what he did to your mother," Bakugo says.

"I didn't want to say anything because I knew you'd lash out at me, saying that your nothing compared to what he did," I say, choking through tears.

"Why would I lash out at you for that? The only reason I stuck with your ass is because I knew you were lonely. And I guess I just saw how shitty your brother treats you. If anything he's like that scumbag for treating you like you're invisible," Bakugo admits.

This guy is spilling out my emotions like he's reading my mind. Someone who I thought to be rash and destructive is...caring and calm.

"I usually don't do this sort of thing but, I guess you're someone I actually gave a damn about," Bakugo says.

I sniffle and he wipes my tears away from my cheeks.

"You good now? Bakugo asks.

"I'll be fine. I just need to take my mind off a few things," I say, getting up.

Bakugo blushes as he hesitates on his words.

"If you need anything, just ask me," He mutters.

I smile as I continue to wipe stray tears. I kiss his cheek catching him off guard.

"Thanks for that, by the way," I say, leaving him alone in the room as I walk down the halls.

I stop suddenly as something catches my eye. I feel my breathing slow down as I see my father standing there, speaking with All Might. Suddenly, his gaze meets mine.

I continue down the halls, rejoining my classmates, disregarding the view of my father.

I rejoin my group and notice that Shoto isn't back yet. He's probably searching for my father.

"Oi! Todoroki,  you good?" Mina ask from across the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. Just trying to cool down," I say to Mina as I stride over to the group of girls.

"The boys tipped us off during lunch that there's a cheer competition," Jiro says.

I smirk as the idea peeks my interest.

"Bet. I'll join the group. But I have a couple requests if we wanna win," I say.

Later, we head out to the arena for our performance and the crowd swoons. Momo stands at my side as we get into formation. I look to the stands and see my Dad return with All Might, his eyes widen as he spots me shaking my pompoms.

I then look at the boys who are now waiting in the stands. I watch as our group's jaws drop, me and Mina wave at them and they all blush. Especially Katsuki.

Our music hits and we start strong. The crowd goes insane at our professional demeanor. Dad watches confused by my sudden interest in dance. The thing is, I secretly joined dance team in middle school to get away from my toxic household. That was my only coping mechanism up until now. Me and Mina decided to throw together some choreography mixed with improv to wow the crowd since Mina also has the same passion.

My gaze then focuses of Katsuki as I move with the music. Katsuki stares at me like I have two heads as I roll my body, not caring who sees.

The fact that I was just throwing things and crying baffles me. I think that's why he's so shocked at my performance. Soon, it ends and the crowd loves it! We go back into the arena and the others girls praise us for our work.

"That choreo was amazing girls!" Midnight says, complimenting us.

We change back to our PE uniforms and split into our semi-final groups.

"Did you see the look on Denki's face?" Mina asks as we walk through the halls.

"I was actually shocked by Katsuki," I mention. We both stop and hide as we see my father talking to my brother in the hallway.

"Is that your dad?" Mina asks.

"Yeah," I say nervously.

"Should I leave you here?" Mina asks nervously.

"Maybe," I say, trying to listen.

"You're acting disgracefully, Shoto. Maybe even worse than your sister," Dad says sternly as usual.

My eyes narrow. HE is being worse than ME? This old man got his twins twisted.

Shoto walks past him and heads towards my direction.

"Aki, let's go," he says before turning the corner.

I shrivel up and scurry behind him.

I look over my shoulder and see Dad him standing at the end of the hall with that familiar glare on his face.

These rounds better be interesting because Dad might just bust our chops if one of us doesn't win.

#bnha bakugou #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha manga spoilers #bnha imagines #bnha hawks #wingsoffire

[thefootballlife]

King making - The SPFL try to end the season but find Rangers in the way

One thing needs stating off the bat - the 2019/20 season in Scotland is over. When football was stopped, on 13 March, the UK registered just over 200 new cases. We now see more than 20x that every day and the last day with under 200 deaths, not cases, was in March. For the UK to be back to that level, the curve does not just need flattened, it needs to essentially be a plateau. This is not happening any time soon and you would expect that it would need to be for sporting events to resume, be they behind closed doors or otherwise.

However, that is evidently not the view of all clubs nor is it the view of all fans. But, as a writer, I do not feel the paragraph above is opinion, it is fact. There are leagues in Europe which will be able to resume, in nations where the virus has been handled better and leapt upon at the first sign of it in the nation as opposed to what the UK did. Talking about when games can resume puts you not in the role of a person concerned about welfare, etc, it casts you as Vince McMahon or Dana White and neither are things you really want to be.

So the argument the SPFL is trying to have is a simple one - how one ends the season, not whether resumption of the season is possible. It is not an argument UEFA want leagues to have until the last possible moment, but given that we are not in a position to even say that the SPFL would be able to start on time for the scheduling of the 2020/21 season, it is wholly obvious that there is not the time to force in the remainder of this one.

The SPFL’s proposal was simple - declare the season over for all divisions albeit the Premiership would simply remain suspended awaiting UEFA to basically permit the season to end. Clubs opposed it and, naturally, those who did are generally those who would lose out - Hearts, East Fife, Patrick Thistle. Those sides want games to be played for understandable reasons - should those games go well, then the clubs stand to benefit immensely.

To be entirely fair to the SPFL, UEFA’s stance of potentially ruling out access to European competitions for league who close the season prior to the fat lady having belted out a few notes does not help. Their proposal has to be as an “if” we close the season, not a “how”. The practicalities of Coronavirus show clearly it is the latter but the diplomacy the league has to carry out necessitates it is the former until UEFA permit the latter.

But all of this seems fairly clear. The SPFL have to find a way to bring the season to a close in a manner that pleases clubs and put forward a proposal to do so. That isn’t a very easy circle to square, given that it involves either denying sides promotion or denying sides the chance to reverse form books and avoid relegation. After 30 games, the season can’t be voided and that would bring more questions than just ending the season would. In addition, the SPFL proposed that, should the proposal have been agreed, the door to reconstruction may have been opened if it were possible for an agreement to be made. Given how getting clubs to agree the season is over has panned out, it is perhaps unsurprising that any discussion of reconstruction has been with the giant caveat that getting an agreement on that may be extremely challenging.

So, last Wednesday, the SPFL published their proposal looking for votes by the end of Friday. The obvious clubs came out against it - Hearts and Partick Thistle, who would be getting relegated as a result. Hearts deservedly, Thistle with a much more live chance of rescuing themselves. Rangers, meanwhile, made a statement because of course they did. They accused the SPFL of bullying sides into agreeing this proposal and floated a different one - that the league would release prize money now based on current positions and then the league would play to a finish as normal. This, of course, ignores the fact that the league will not finish as normal.

Rangers, however, submitted their amendment incorrectly, making it an instruction rather than a request - as it would have to be for it to be legal as per the 2006 Companies Act. Rangers were duly informed as such and then didn’t submit an amended amendment because they were too busy starting beef with the SPFL over what they felt were communication issues. The SPFL, unusually, turned round and told Rangers where they could stick their accusations of communication issues but that would just be the prelude to the next bit of insanity. Come vote reveal time, not all sides had submitted their vote - Hearts were just plain late but the result controversy would come around Dundee. They initially sent their vote in the wrong format, seeing it end up in the SPFL’s junk, then sent an email to say “ignore our vote pls” then sent a vote again and then confirmed to the SPFL that their vote definitely shouldn’t be counted. This is vitally important as it is Dundee’s vote that is now the one that will decide the whole thing.

Rangers, following this, did another statement demanding Neil Doncaster’s head because they claimed to have proof of irregularities. The SPFL asked to see this proof and Rangers then went quiet. As we wake this Monday morning, we are no sooner to seeing an agreement being reached save to say that Dundee will surely ride this one for all it’s worth.

This is, of course, all a massive embarrassment. Rangers’ current policy doesn’t amount to anything other than “GIRUY Celtic”. Celtic were cantering to the title prior to football closing and no sensible person would have argued they were catchable - fortunately for Rangers, they don’t need to do that. They merely need to cast enough doubt on the integrity of the whole thing so that people would not consider Celtic as champions, whether they are given the title or not. They have likely done that enough to satisfy their own fan base and will, soon, hopefully decide to be sensible and discuss the future rather than trying to colour the past.

Dundee’s initial refusal was similar - they were both waving fists down the road in the direction of Tannadice and complaining about not getting their playoff spot. They should not be in the position they are in currently, but they are and few would blame them for seeing just what ransom they can now get.

Reconstruction should be on the table. Much of the SPFL’s concerns revolve around the new Sky contract coming in for next season for two reasons - one, that it may not start on time and two, that any reconstruction might not have the four Celtic-Rangers games a season Sky demand. In the meantime, for as long as there is no agreement between clubs, clubs are being denied funding they desperately need. This should not be of concern at all. For one, Sky (and every broadcaster) are rather aware of the whole Coronavirus thing.

In addition, I’m sure that if the choice was further rancor that eventually pushes a single league club to the wall, or a reconstruction agreement that sees Sky break their contract in a huff, every fan of the game would pick the latter.

The SPFL now has four tasks to complete. The first is to just throw this current proposal in the bin and start again. There has been too much acrimony and there is now too much power consolidated around one club for it to go at all as it was originally intended.

Secondly, they have to get every club to agree on one thing - that the 2019/20 is over. Not how it’s concluded as that is a separate process, but that it is over. There is no prospect of further football taking place before next season and the concept should no longer be entertained.

Once that is done, the third task is to agree how all those loose ends are tied up when it comes to relegation and promotion which directly leads to the fourth task - reconstruction, be it on a temporary or permanent basis. There is certainly the desire for reconstruction in many areas - whether there is consensus for a particular form of it is a whole other matter. That is the case at both the top and bottom end of the leagues - Brora and Kelty Hearts have both surely done enough to justify their chance at league football and both will feel rightly miffed if Coronavirus denies them even a playoff.

A fourteen team league has been mooted (keeping Hearts in the top flight and promoting the top two of the Championship) but any fourteen team league comes with the obvious issue of how you do a split and how you manage bye weeks, etc. This writer would like to see the system from Serbia brought in - sixteen teams playing each other home and away before the league splits in two and teams play each other once more. This then incorporates Dundee United, Caley, Dundee and Ayr United (removing any issue the Championship sides would have) and also bring fresh match-ups to the top flight. In Serbia, the second tier follows the same format (which would incorporate the rest of the Championship and League One) and similar can be done for the “bottom” tier.

But clubs need to all accept that the 2019/20 season is over. There is no prospect - absolutely zero - that Coronavirus cases will decline enough quickly enough to allow it. Agreeing that won’t sort our issues, but it will at least compartmentalise them enough to make future agreement a more gradual and easier process.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Hold the door (BC x Reader)

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Warning: Spoilers for GoT S4 & S6 E5

Summary: Fantasy can be brutal yet be addicting after a long day of work. Fortunately, a dearly loved kangaroo knows how to lessen the pain of the politics of Westeros.

Author’s Note: Top o’ the morning!

This is my first piece for Stray Kids since they are slowly taking over my life and especially Chris (Bangchan). Hopefully, despite this being not BTS-related for once, it is still an enjoyable read.

For any Stays reading this and who are not acquainted with my works as of yet: I hope I do not disappoint.

Masterlist

A good story evokes emotions with its imagery and plot line, even more so when actors play out the scenes which are craftily adapted to a visual new format despite being written first in ink. The series ‘’Game of Thrones’’ is a splendid example of what might happen in a scenario in which the story hits harder than expected, beloved characters dying left and right while the audience can merely look on in horror.

Or cheer in delight in Joffrey’s case.

The day at work at the café in the centre of town had been hazardous, the arrival of spring break ensuring lots of tourists to come in to taste and photograph the seasonal specials while enjoying the gradually becoming warmer sunny weather. The entire shift literally consisted of creating soft sweet sakura custard buns and sweet lush green mochis decorated with a rice dough cherry blossom and petals, slicing up the slightly floral cheesecake with a pink inside that had to be remade perhaps four to five times due to the high demand. Not to speak of the effort to deliver with making the time-consuming coffees and hot or cold cocoas befitting the abundant fall of sakura around the village. However, such are the duties of being part of the already small team: each person has to be able to work all-round when this time of the year comes despite there not being too much patronage otherwise since the city is not that big nor well-known.

But every exhausting shift makes a mini-marathon in the evening of the new season of ‘’Game of Thrones’’ all the more deserved, simply sitting back on the comfortable creme-coloured love seat with a cup of freshly prepared ice coffee and either a tub of cookies and cream ice cream or a protein bar in the same flavour. Fortunately, it is not minded by the boyfriend of one and a half years since the blonde athletic boy can mostly be found at the gym in the evenings when not hanging out with friends.

Nonetheless, Chris’s absence is more of a curse since the first episode of the night has a grander impact on the psyche than expected, making a firm hug that is mostly tried to be escaped from under normal circumstances now dearly desired. Too many impactful emotional events follow each other up at the end of the sixth season’s fifth episode, triggering the rare reaction of tears in eyes that can merely watch and a palm wrapped over a speechless mouth.

The response is even powerful enough to miss the click of the front door of the shared apartment and the dull thump of the ashen buffalo bag filled with sports gear in the tiny entryway leading to the studio, much less so the giggle following the habitual greeting of “I’m home, babygirl”, which is still awkward despite the many times it has been uttered.

‘Hey, Y/N, are you, wait, are you crying?’ As soon as the credits roll over the screen and the DVD is paused, fingers unclasp from paralyzed lips to wipe away the watery traces of the damage done by mere yet gripping fantasy which stirs the youth to rush over to the couch and rapidly take place on the empty spot formerly occupied by bare feet, making a sorrowful being bounce slightly with the impact of the sudden additional weight. Firm veiny arms are immediately clung onto when they initiate an unbreakable embrace, one slender hand placed protectively on the top of the head, cradling it against the shoulder. ‘What happened?’

No answer comes per direct, first throwing out every bit of frustration thanks to fantastical explicit cruelty while holding on to an oversized sweat-soaked onyx shirt but not minding the hint of sourness to the characteristic scent of minty soap. The golden-haired lad resembling a kangaroo when fired up with energy has taken on the tranquil appearance of a koala, its counterpart, and simply waits patiently until the incoherent blabbering attempts at voicing a reason for the silly behaviour gain a sense of logic. Simultaneously, the left upper arm is being rubbed in uncomprehending close solace, chin resting on the crown of the head when not giving soft caring forehead kisses and whispering soothing nothings.

At last, after a good while of crying, it is dared to look Chris in the eye to tell what forms the reason for the curious distress. Nevertheless, it is an obvious fact the thumb caressing the cheek while explaining forms one of the support pillars which keeps speech steadier than it would be without. ‘Geo- George R.R. Martin is a bastard. He- He let Bran’s wolf be killed by Whitewalkers and- and... Hodor...’ A heavy sob. ‘M- mea- means “ho- hold the door”...’

The very vivid thought about the death of the kind giant at the door arises, initiating a continuation of the lament created by a splendid bastard of an author’s writing. The hug tightens, a rumble in the trained chest beneath the slick flowy fabric resulting in an adorable chuckle as tears stream down a pale neck. ‘You take it way too seriously, Y/N. It’s just a story. Nobody’s actually dead, everything is fine.’

‘Shut up, Chris, you do- don’t know what power George has.’ It is incredible how ‘’Game of Thrones’’ has escaped the attention of the Australian platinum youth, but at the same time places him in a disposition of ignorance about how sensitive talk about the show can be. Certainly for long-time viewers who have likely seen their favourites be brutally murdered in favour of plot progression.

‘No, I don’t, but how about you show me and I’ll try to protect you from it?’ Hazel irises light up at the prospect at one of the most loved things aside from the steady relationship with a girl who gets carried away into fantasy too often and, judging by the broad smirk that begins to form, the continuation of the proposal is nothing surprising yet deliciously loving. ‘With food?’

‘Tha- That’s your solution to ev- everything, isn’t it?’ A careful curl of the corners of the mouth forms out of the sorrowful expression at seeing the genuine giddiness at a second dinner or, rather, late night snack together. Although, it also arises out of the vivid images quickly flashing by of the personified koala’s silly movements whenever something tastes incredible, the funny habit always a cause for affectionate laughter and a source of confidence in the at times doubtful personal cooking skill.

‘It always makes you smile,’ a stray strand is tucked behind the ear, plush roseate lips placing a sweet kiss on the forehead, ‘I’ll first take a shower and then prepare some tteokbokki. How about that?’

Unconsciously, a consenting eager nod is already given before the reaction can be even thought about, the stomach having overtaken demeanour out of anticipation of the small rice cakes. ‘Extra spicy?’

A slight nervousness slips into attitude, eyes holding a silent plead for toning down on the spice levels because the last time they were too high for most to handle, Cris’s friends who came over for the monthly movie night all frantically reaching for cucumber and milk to nullify the impact while trying to save the fellow Australian of the group at the same time. Withal, howbeit while clearly contemplating to adjust the amount of gochujang regardless of the request, the proposal is agreed to. ‘Sure, extra spicy it is. Now, don’t you dare continue in the meanwhile or I won’t cuddle you for the rest of the week.’

A sceptic roll of the eyes, finding no credibility in the statement considering the personality of the speaker. ‘Oh, come on, we both know that’s an empty threat.’

The slightly loosened embrace tightens to a literally breathtaking degree once more, but now it is tried to be escaped as is normally the case when the blonde youth tends to get cheesily clinging. ‘Or I hug you to death, your choice.’

‘Let me go!’ Any type of resistance results in the opposite, becoming more and more the prisoner of secure loving arms instead of a free woman. Notwithstanding, it cannot be said it is minded, though the rumbling in the stomach betrays the recently realized craving for food that can only be had when giving in.

‘Not before you answer.’ The heavy weight suddenly tipping the scales cannot be prevented from being the oppressor of the strength that is unable to lift it, head hitting the soft pillows of the sofa on the other end as the sporty lad with dewy skin maintains the firm hug. A delighted playful chuckle sounds at the realization of having the held figure exactly where she is apparently wanted, unable to be freed before having made a decision. ‘Well, what’s it gonna be?’

‘Either way, you’ll suffer. Option one leaves me alive but you’ll get cuddle withdrawal symptoms. Option two leaves you without your favourite squishy.’ An eyebrow rises in challenging mockery which will only worsen the circumstances though the sarcasm cannot be helped. Just as in the brutal series, if you play smart, you shall survive. And this preferred victim of affection, this most beloved fighter of clinging hugs, has plans to survive the night.

‘Aren’t you clever, turning my own words against me?’ A lopsided smirk forms on the koala boy’s face, eyes illuminated by playful lights.

‘In the Game of Thrones, you live or you die and I intend to do the former.’ Henceforth, a cute sweetness slips into speech as lips irresistibly pout, manipulating Chris even further into hurrying up in fulfilling the promise of tteokbokki and stop stalling the rest of the well-deserved marathon. ‘I’m hungry.’

Blonde locks bow in amused defeat, shaking briefly with acknowledged surrender before gazes lock again. ‘I have no idea what that reference means, but you win this time, Y/N. Can’t let my babygirl starve.’

The characteristic awkward laughter accompanying the nickname by default ends the topic of debate, the kangaroo boyfriend lifting himself off a half-crushed no longer entirely torn by fantasy figure to finally shower. In the absence filled with the lingering traces of songs sung with an angelic voice, more pillows and a thin ornately decorated blanket are gathered for properly snuggling up with delicious food and an amazing but heartbreaking brutal show.

Sweater paws clad in a soapy mint oversized sweater wrap around the platinum youth’s waist to give him a taste of his own medicine, trying to show how inconvenient it can be when a person is basically glued to you during household tasks, which lets them become increasingly more complicated due to the loving gesture. Withal, it does not have the intended effect as the young man manages to get along with making the rice cakes coated in a fierce red sauce just fine although it does pose a bit of a risk when a small hand reaches out for the gochujang tub to add more to the sauce and the chef obviously not consenting to this idea, the dispute resulting in play fighting that almost turns the fire pit open too far without further notice.

The tickling almost results in burns and burned clothing, the just as touchy retribution barely short of ending in a trail of sauce stains leading from the kitchen floor to the fake black leather loveseat thanks to fingertips poking sides. Regardless, it is managed to be reached without further ado, the cruelly incredible series resuming with one strong arm wrapped around the shoulders, a warm meal split in two put into two laps sitting side by side. Occasionally, a chewy tteok is fed with a content smile from the bigger portion of the athlete eating like a starved man, who is evidently as happy with the result of the obstructed cooking as the appreciating look in the eyes of the accepting mouth, going by the happy wiggles accompanied by tuneful hums.

And thus the imaginary intriguing political game synonymous to crimson onslaught continues, because the questioning, at times shocked, comments made out of ignorance brighten the mood due to their silent request for an explanation, delighting the nerdy fangirl within to no end.

Keeping the worst of silly emotions at bay.

Holding the door.

#Stray Kids #SKZ #Stray Kids x Reader #Bangchan #Bang Chan #Chris Bang #SKZ x Reader

[rumowrites]

Talents, Part 3

Read in on AO3 here Chapter one is here

This time Runaan get’s sent out to kill and Tinker is anxiously awaiting his return.

A few weeks after, Runaan was called off for an important mission. A huge honour, considering his age. They had both passed the trial a couple of days prior. Runaan with flying colours and a new record time and Tinker magically managed to not come last. The combat lessons Runaan had given him were more effective than he thought.

Despite the joy he felt for the elf he now was proud to call a friend at least, the sting of loss was apparent. When Tink gave him one of his creations that could replicate the healing spell as a parting gift the night before their departure, he had a hard time fighting back tears.

In his mind he knew Runaan was good. Very good. But the small nagging voice in his head grew louder and louder the nearer the hour of goodbye came. He couldn’t suppress a whispered “Be careful.” when he handed him the little enchanted bracelet. The tall elf nodded with a small smile “Of course. Thank you, I hope I won’t need it.” With that, he turned and joined the rest of his group to prepare for the next morning.

A small smile appeared on his face when Tinker realised he kept the hairstyle he’s made the other elf that day in the forest. Even the decorative hair ties were the same. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how young his friend looked, standing there between the most praised assassins of whole Xadia. They all had a good fifteen to twenty years of experience on him and Tink hoped they would use it to protect the youngest among them.

The weeks passed and he got more and more worried for Runaan. Meanwhile, Tinker had started an apprenticeship with the local jewellery and sword smith. He loved the work and found his natural talent exceeded the limited tools he had at home, soon. Varou, his mentor gave him every opportunity to try new things and experiment. He even had some customers already who regularly commissioned enchanted trinkets either as a gift or to take on missions. His days were usually busy but at night when he was alone in his own bed, the thoughts spiralling in his head wouldn’t leave him alone.

The giant leap his hear made once the bells announced the return of Runaan’s group was gigantic. It was late afternoon almost five weeks after they left and he was on his way home from an exhausting day at work, when he heard the familiar melody. Without a second thought, he raced towards the assembly place where he knew the group would most likely be found. He skirted to a halt once the familiar long white hair came into view. Amidst the stern but tired looking Assassins stood Runaan, back ramrod straight as his Leader informed the council about their mission. Upon seeing his unharmed, Tink released a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding. Apparently everything went well, all four targets were put down and none of the elves sported any major injuries. He patiently waited until the assassins were released and Runaan came walking towards him once he spotted him at the edge of the crowd.

“I’m glad you are back.” Tinker started with a smile once his friend reached him. “I was a little worried that you took so long.” The other elf looked down at him with a slight smirk “I told you it would be fine.” Although Runaan seemed to be genuinely happy to see him, there was a certain pain in his expression Tink couldn’t quite place. “Do you, uh, have to be somewhere tonight?” the assassin examined his boots thoroughly before starting again “I mean, um, would you like to do something? We haven’t seen each other in a while I am sure there is a lot I have to catch up on.”

For a second, Tink’s heart threatened to just stop beating altogether. He just came back and the first thing he wanted to do was spent time with him. Him of all people? “I would love to but don’t you have a family that’s waiting for you?” Surely his parents were already expecting him back. “I um-“ Runaan started, fumbling with his braid “-yeah I, I should go.” He looked so put out that Tink reconsidered his response. His usually stern face was a circus of emotions, everything flickering over the elegant features for a split seconds and disappearing again. When Runaan turned to leave, he reached out to grab his wrist “Wait! How about tomorrow? I have to work until about five but afterwards we could meet up at the old well in the forest.” The lack of a reaction disturbed him slightly, and he quickly let go of the other’s arm “If you like that is?” he added in a faint attempt for a response. The tall elf blinked a few times, exhaustion now evident in his turquoise eyes “Yeah, I would like that. See you tomorrow.”

The next day, Tink hurried back from the workshop to be on time. A customer came in in the last second so he couldn't leave earlier.

When he reached the spot they were supposed to meet, Runaan was already there, sitting on the stone wall of the well, feet dangling in the air. Contrary to his combat uniform yesterday, he now wore a very form fitting undershirt and wide flowing pants that danced in the wind. His hair was open and flowed down his shoulders like a shimmering waterfall, making him look like an otherworldly creature.

Tink stopped in his tracks, staring until the other turned towards him. “Hey, um - sorry I'm late.”  

Runaan just smiled gesturing for him to join him on the wall. “You're not I was just early.” Upon closer, he looked even more tired than yesterday. Deep dark circles surrounded the otherwise sparkling eyes that now had lost their shimmer. He spotted a few bruises along his arms and shoulders where the assassin probably parried an enemy’s blow.

Runaan shifted a little uncomfortably under his gaze, looking ahead into the forest before turning to face him. “So? What happened while I was gone?”

Tinker gave a brief summary of what happened in their village and then explained how he'd started the apprenticeship and was now working at Varou's shop. Runaan hummed in agreement every once in a while but otherwise seemed content with simply listening.

Finally, when he found he had nothing more to tell Tink looked at the other apologetically “I would ask you about your mission but I know you are probably not allowed to talk about it, right?”

Runaan nodded, a sudden pain in his eyes “Yes, I've sworn an oath to keep it to myself. Maybe I will even have to leave again, soon. The council has already issued another order.” The statement made Tink pause for a moment. Last he knew the other hadn’t been an official part of the dark squadron yet. When expected to leave on a mission again it could only mean he now was one of them. At only sixteen that would make him the youngest elf ever to be allowed a place in the ranks of Xadia’s elite forces. “So they made you one of them? That’s great! Your parents must be so proud of you.” The pain in Runaa’s eyes changed to cold emptiness so fast it made Tinker shiver.

It took a while before the other spoke, eyes fixed on his hands where he fiddled with the bracelet Tink had given him. “I um, I don’t have any. Not anymore that is.”

Suddenly, the events from last night came back, making him feel sick. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” He desperately wanted to hug the other elf but didn’t know if it was a welcome gesture.

“It’s okay, they died an honourable death, defending Xadia. Their border patrol got ambushed by humans three years ago. They both stayed behind so others could escape with the Intel they gathered.” Slowly, the life came back into his eyes, a small sad smile forming on his lips.  “I’m still sorry.” Tink finally said, gently squeezing the other’s shoulder. They sat in silence until the sun was completely absent from the dark sky. Simply enjoying each other’s presence.

“I should go.” Runaan finally stated and hopped down from his spot on the well. “I have training tomorrow morning.” Nodding, Tink also stood, collecting the bag he’s placed on the grass upon arriving. “It was nice to see you again.” “Yeah, yeah it was.” Runaan agreed, turning in the direction of his house “Maybe we can meet again later this week?” the question sounded so hopeful, Tinkers heart skipped a beat or two. He grinned at the other elf “Definitely”.

That night, Runaan couldn’t find sleep. Just as the other nights before, the terrified faces of his victims floated through his mind as soon as he closed his eyes. Every time he tried to think of something else, Tinker appeared with his handsome features and gentle eyes.

With a sigh, he got up again, reaching for one of his training shirts and made his way downstairs. Two years ago he’d redecorated the large living area and now stood in an almost empty room that sported targets and dummies strewn aligned along the walls. The ceiling was covered in different sized handles and gaps so one could move from one side of the room to the other. Ever since his parents died, he never really had guests and figured to put the living area in better use.

Now, he jumped to grab one of the bars for a few pull-ups before he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. Runaan shot until his arms quivered, exhaustion sitting deep in his bones, after setting the weapon aside, he drifted in an exhaustion induced sleep on the couch, the only piece of furniture he had kept.

A few hours later the first rays of sunshine awoke him way to early and he realized he would probably be late for training if he didn’t hurry. He didn’t bother with eating but only pinned his hair back in haste and dressed in fresh clothes before grabbing his twin swords and rushing out the door. 

Chapter 4

#runaan #runaan tdp #runaan fanfiction #rumo writes #the dragon prince #tinker #necklace elf #runaan x tinker #Runaan x necklace elf #rayla #fanfiction #gren #amaya #lord viren #moonshadow elve #moonshadow elves

[minheoney]

paradise | one

→ an ideal or idyllic place or state.

summary : in which you attend a formal event with your employer but the night takes a turn when you run into a familiar face...

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to escortism, mentions of bondage, graphic sexual content

word count : 9,044 | gif credit : mine (source)

A lost cause - that was what your last boyfriend called you when he walked out of your life. Since then, you took his words to heart and never dated again.

Braving the high octane world of corporate law, you were expected to be as ferocious as you were cunning. To be blunt, in the eyes of many you were deadly. No one could keep count of the small businesses you had destroyed to maintain your conglomerate employer at the top of the financial food chain. There was no telling how many livelihoods were ruined by your merciless marches through the courtroom.

There wasn’t an exact moment your heart ceased to function, but you inevitably accepted that turning off the center of your emotions permanently would help your career as a stone cold bitch.

You were the crown jewel of your company’s division of expansion and the uncontested team leader of the entire legal department. There was no courtroom untouched by your savagery and no client unsatisfied with your performance.

Though at the moment, your boss was quite cross with you.

“At least try to smile,” garbled Namjoon under his breath, sipping champagne at your side.

Rolling your eyes apathetically, you downed your drink and snatched another from the passing waiter. Staying buzzed was integral to getting through another dull night of playing nicely with others. Gulping a mouthful, you questioned, “I thought it was part of my job description to look menacing at all times?”

“I can have that clause added to your contract, if you wish,” Namjoon retorted, flashing a smile to another constituent as he spoke to you out of the corner of his mouth.

With a snort, you rebuffed, “I negotiate my own contract, Mr. Kim. You should know better.”

The owner and founder of Kim Enterprises scoffed in defeat and finished his drink, holding out his arm to allow yours to hook through. “Time to mingle,” he murmured with disdain.

Neither of you were keen on this fundraiser and banquet, but a man of his stature and prowess needed to keep up appearances. For the past year or two as his company rose to power, you had been the accessory at his side for functions like these. Your reputation had swelled among the world of moguls and executives, and for that reason, your employer desired nothing more than to flaunt you.

Kim Namjoon preferred to appear more powerful than he actually was, though the man was just as ruthless - if not more so - than you were. He rather enjoyed spinning you around his professional circles, giving his competitors and allies alike the chance to see the weapon he could easily use to wound them.

Part of you wanted to submit to the pride and arrogance that could be given to you in these situations, but deep down, you wanted to crawl under a rock and bury your face in the dirt. Others may be affluent with corruption and despicable deeds, but you still held enough of a conscience to despise what you did to the innocent people that got in your employer’s way.

“Had enough yet?” Namjoon teased after another pointless conversation you managed to endure with one of his business counterparts.

You groaned quietly for his ears alone and hissed, “I want twenty grand added to my budget next year.”

Though the amount could be considered mere pocket change for someone of his wealth, Namjoon gawked and asked, “What the hell for?”

“None of your damn business, sir,” you replied, grinning insincerely at the approach of one more sycophant.

Namjoon placed a hand at the lower curve of your back, pushing you forward slightly to block him like a shield, and whispered near your face, “You are the only person with the balls to talk to me like that.”

By his tone alone you could tell that fact overly pleased him. But not once in your tenure as Namjoon’s counsel had you returned his affections and you were not about to start tonight.

“Take your hand away from my ass or something very bad will happen to your balls, Mr. Kim,” you threatened, sipping your champagne blithely.

Namjoon removed his hand immediately and you smirked at the little victory. The two of you swiftly composed yourselves for the woman coming to stand before you, flashing a fake smile in your direction.

“Good to see you both again,” sang Sooyeon with a hint of monotone, brushing her waved hair behind her shoulders to expose her collarbones. The grin she was sporting never traveled to her eyes, which meant it was solely for show. You expected nothing less. “I’m starting to think you two are a couple,” she added, snide.

You and your boss released similar noises of disgust at the suggestion, which drew a very surprised reaction from Sooyeon.

“With all due respect,” Namjoon crooned, addressing her with the highest formality. “I can’t date a woman more cutthroat than myself.”

You chuckled, rather satisfied.

Sooyeon snickered, then turned and called, “Darling?”

Curious, you searched the sea of people for who Sooyeon could be summoning. Generally she carried herself alone; a woman that needed no support or company. Her bitter and very public divorce the previous year saw to that.

“I’m here, beautiful,” cooed her date in a mollifying tone, handing over a fresh glass of bubbly which she took eagerly.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach when you recognized the man that had moved to stand at her side. Adrenaline coursed from your toes to the crown of your head at a rate beyond what was considered tolerable. Choking on air, you covered your mouth and coughed to hide it.

Namjoon glanced at you confusedly.

“This is Jackson Wang,” introduced Sooyeon, stroking his arm and giving him a glance over as if he were a sparkly new toy and not an actual person.

Namjoon and Jackson greeted each other briefly before his eyes fell on you.

Crimson flushed your cheeks, but the dim lights of the ballroom helped to conceal the shade. Blinking rapidly, you were a delayed second or two behind Jackson in observing the usual formalities. Meanwhile, he was playing along exceptionally well.

Considering you had been having sex with him for the past year.

“Very nice to meet you,” Jackson said firmly, eyes burning into yours.

You could tell by the ease in his tone he was not shaken. There was nothing for you to worry about.

Then, you remembered Jackson was no stranger to this game. He was a delicassie for wealthy, powerful women. Each time Sooyeon touched him in some way, he let her do as she pleased with him and didn’t reciprocate the affection. He knew he was a piece of meat on display, same as you.

“And what do you do, Mr. Wang?” asked Namjoon nonchalantly, calling to the waiter for another glass of alcohol. This time, something a little stronger.

You swallowed harshly as your mind filled with unclean thoughts. Jackson was an escort; someone you paid to visit you once - sometimes twice - a week to fuck any and all stress out of you. Jackson indulged your darkest fantasies, the desires you had that no man had ever been able to fulfill.

“I own a homegrown company based in Hong Kong,” Jackson replied with ease, surprising you with the new tidbit of information. “Not as large as yours, Mr. Kim.”

“And in a different country,” Namjoon replied, clearly unbothered. “It seems we won’t be competitors anytime soon.”

Your eyes met and Jackson smirked, murmuring just before he sipped his drink, “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

More heat returned to your cheeks and you were ever grateful for the darkly hued lights above. Jackson was looking at you the same way one would look at a full-course meal.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you turned to Namjoon. “I need to visit the ladies room,” you told your date, releasing his arm and gripping your clutch.

“You know where to find me,” Namjoon deadpanned, glancing at Sooyeon and grinding his teeth at the prospect of being left alone with a bloodthirsty snake such as herself.

Scurrying into the bathroom, you approached the mirrors and took a reassuring breath. Rationale came to the forefront of your focus as you tried to preempt how the next few minutes would go. If practicing law had taught you anything it was that life was merely an endless sequence of moves and countermoves.

Jackson was a professional, you reminded yourself. He would never reveal the nature of your relationship with him. Taking out your compact, you dabbed some powder on your cheeks to smooth your makeup, hoping your reddening cheeks would remain out of sight for the remainder of the evening.

When you stepped out, you gasped in surprise.

Jackson stood by the door, his hand braced on the wall leaving his arm outstretched to bar your path.

“Hello, again,” you greeted plainly, feigning unfamiliarity.

Jackson flashed you an amused grin and whispered, “You should have seen your face. I thought you were having a stroke.”

“Very close to it, actually,” you retorted, relaxing slightly at his demeanor.

Playful, Jackson tapped a finger on your nose in an attempt of flirting and taunted, “Chill, woman. I would never out you. I’ve been at this a while.”

“Good to know,” you replied calmly, bristling. “But if you ever boop my nose again, I will bite your goddamn fingers off.”

Something in Jackson’s gaze switched and a darkness clouded into his eyes. Inching closer until your lips nearly brushed, his voice dropped when he muttered, “Are you trying to get a rise out of Daddy? That’s not like you, kitten.”

Daddy? Now, that was new. Jackson was adept at pushing your buttons, always stoking a flame in you that could join with his own fiery nature.

“Outside of the bedroom, I am an entirely different animal,” you threatened, grabbing his arm and guiding him out of your way. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

“Yes, dear,” he chirped, reverting back to his buoyant self in an instant. His gaze fell to your plump ass while you strutted away and you resisted the urge to smirk at his behavior.

Rolling your eyes at the exchange, you scurried back to Namjoon, who looked positively annoyed at being abandoned with Sooyeon.

“All is well, I hope,” Namjoon droned, perturbed.

You brushed away his sarcasm and sat dutifully at his side, crossing your legs.

Jackson joined a deliberate moment later, plopping down alongside Sooyeon and massaging her shoulder gently. She purred at the attention, sliding her hand briefly down his thigh.

Your immediate reaction was to slap her away, but then you remembered you had no right to do so. Beyond the bedroom, you had no claim to Jackson - nor he to you. When you glanced up, you noticed Jackson had been studying your face and was clearly pleased with what he saw in your expression.

Flustered, you leaned against Namjoon ever so slightly, realizing his arm draped across the back of your chair.

Sooyeon was touching Jackson as a demonstration of ownership, not out of affection, but a sour taste was set in your mouth. You knew how it felt to have Jackson’s hands all over you. The man knew where you were weakest and could make you reach the heights of ecstasy like...

“I was just discussing with Namjoon the idea of putting you on retainer,” Sooyeon spoke with belied annoyance, snapping you from your dirty thoughts. “But he says you are exclusive to his enterprise.”

Jackson bobbed his head in your direction, interested.

“Yes, I am,” you replied, patting Namjoon’s knee.

Jackson stiffened. Namjoon did, too. Though for an entirely different reason.

“You must have a strong sense of loyalty,” Sooyeon gleamed, narrowing her eyes.

Sooyeon never did like you. On every opportunity you were in her presence with Namjoon at functions such as these, she went out of her way to demean you - to make you seem beneath her in every aspect. Never did this work. You were a highly accomplished attorney. She was a trophy wife with a penchant for choosing the right men to sleep with.

From one ambitious woman to another, you had recognized what she was looking for months ago. Your years spent in the courtroom becoming an adept reader of people allowed you to seek out and exploit intentions and motivations.

Coming face-to-face with Jackson had shaken you, distracted you. Now, you finally remembered the game Sooyeon was playing. She wanted Namjoon, it was always too evident on her face, and she considered you a very persistent obstacle. Normally, you wouldn’t engage with her and play this game, but Jackson’s presence knocked you off balance.

Smirking with arrogance, you finally replied, “Yes, I am very loyal and Mr. Kim has been nothing but good to me.”

Sooyeon scowled momentarily before concealing it behind another hollow smile. She clearly had plenty of practice. Meanwhile, Jackson switched his attention from you to Sooyeon then back to you. He was starting to piece together the tension.

Turning, you tucked yourself along Namjoon’s body, brushing your lips over his ear and whispering, “She wants to swallow you whole.”

Namjoon brought an arm around you instinctively as you leaned in. Jackson desperately wanted to shove him away, but swallowed down his jealousy.

Parting from your employer, you angled back to Sooyeon and asked, “What would you need with my services, Ms. Lee?”

Sooyeon crossed her legs and sipped her drink, eventually patronizing, “You can call me Ms. Jung. I’m still keeping my married name. And to answer your question, your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard other attorneys call you ‘The Razor.’ I am very curious as to what you have done to earn such a name.”

Jackson promptly fixated his gaze on you and listened intently.

Swallowing harshly, you were reminded of all the unforgivable things you had done to garner yourself that title. You made yourself embrace the nickname lest you look weak in front of your subordinates, but behind closed doors, you had cried more than once over it.

“She cuts down anyone and anything that gets in my way,” Namjoon replied on your behalf when you fell silent. “Isn’t that right?”

“Right you are. As usual, sir,” you murmured, locking eyes with Jackson as you took a gulp of champagne.

Every time you spoke the word ‘sir,’ there was a sharp physical reaction from him. This was how you were often instructed to address him in the bedroom and having become so ingrained in your relationship, it was impossible for Jackson not to have a visceral response to hearing the three-letter word slip from your mouth.

“You have yet to cross me then,” Sooyeon interjected, haughty and shameless. “I believe I would put an end to your winning streak.”

Furrowing your brow, you took the bait. “And how would you do that?”

“Don’t think you are the only formidable woman in the world, sweetheart,” she sneered, stroking Jackson’s arm. “Some of us just have better skill sets.”

“You mean different,” you corrected, uncrossing your legs and planting both feet on the floor.

“Hm?” she hummed.

“You mean different skill sets,” you corrected again, speaking slightly slower and enunciating the word. “You don’t have better skill sets than me, in this world or any that follow.”

Jackson and Namjoon sipped their drinks with growing smirks as they leaned back, withdrawing themselves from any impending confrontation.

“You little bitch,” Sooyeon exclaimed, looking a heartbeat away from flinging her drink in your face. “Who the hell told you it was acceptable to speak to me this way?”

Angling forward, you growled, “I have had to listen to you at every one of these useless fucking functions over and over. I’ve never said a word when you drop those snide comments about me to my face because you want to make yourself look more appealing to my boss...”

Sooyeon gasped and opened her mouth to rebuttal.

You had argued over litigators and judges alike with the same tenacity and this little gold digger was not going to undermine you tonight.

“I’ve bit my tongue with you, former Mrs. Jung,” you snarled. “But you’re not going to insult me in front of him.”

Sooyeon scoffed. “Mr. Kim,” she screeched quietly, glancing to your employer as if he had the power to put a leash on your mouth.

“Don’t look at me,” your date for the night countered sternly.

“Yeah,” you trailed, voice losing a fraction of its power. “Mr. Kim...”

Jackson lowered his glass, having downed the last of its contents, and his eyes were filled to the brim with desire when he realized you meant him. You had allowed yourself to be walked all over on multiple occasions for the sake of your job, but your tolerance ended with his presence.

Meanwhile, Namjoon shrugged. He gave no shits when Sooyeon was concerned.

“You’re going to regret making an enemy of me,” Sooyeon started and by the low, dark tone of her voice, you made a short intuitive leap that she was probably right.

“I think I’ve had enough for tonight, sir,” you said, ignoring her entirely. You rose to your feet while Sooyeon lurched from her seat and stomped away, muttering under her breath all the while.

Namjoon gazed up at you in worship, impressed and beyond amused. “You can have that twenty grand added to your budget next year,” he told you a moment later. “That was one of the most satisfying things I’ve seen in months.”

Jackson stood slowly, shuffling toward you and murmuring, “I, uh...”

“You should go after your date, Mr. Wang,” you spoke roughly. “I sure hope she paid you up front.”

Jackson blanked and said nothing as you glided away. Namjoon cocked an eyebrow suspiciously.

As you left the venue and asked the valet to call your car, you shivered in the cold of the night. Part of you wished Jackson would follow you instead of her, but the other half chided yourself for being such a petulant child.

Sooyeon had been baiting you more than usual this time and you took it - hook, line, and sinker.

God knows you had wanted to rip her a new asshole for some time, but you were notorious for never losing your composure. Sooyeon would undoubtedly be on a path of vengeance toward you for quite a while, you figured.

But oh, so worth the trouble.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind you.

Resisting a smile, you turned to Jackson as your car arrived. “Yes?” you asked coyly.

Jackson licked his lip and cocked his head, whispering, “You were amazing in there.”

Feeding off of the adrenaline from a confrontation, you ran your tongue over your teeth and teased, “You should see me in a courtroom.”

“I can only imagine.”

You snickered.

Jackson smiled, then his demeanor shifted, devolving into something mischievous. “Where are you headed?”

Letting a moment pass to drag out this exchange, you eventually answered, “Back to my hotel.”

Without missing a beat, he replied, “Tell me your room number.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully and said, “It’s not my night with you.”

Jackson moved closer. “My schedule is wide open. And it’s on the house.”

For a few seconds, you mulled, brow stitching pensively. This was dangerous territory, you knew that all too well. But you couldn’t resist.

“Three... one... four,” you purred, smoothing the lapel of his suit and bidding him farewell.

Jackson watched you slide into the backseat, tucking his hands into his pockets as his gaze followed the car. You instructed the driver to return you to your hotel and once in the clear, you kicked off your shoes and relaxed against the leather cushions.

The lavish suite was a sight for sore eyes as you trudged inside, dropping your shoes near the door and dragging yourself toward the nearby bed. Once close enough, you flung yourself on to the mattress and grumbled into the comforter over your aching soles.

After discarding your pantyhose, you suddenly remembered to anticipate a visitor. Racing into the bathroom, you brushed your teeth and combed through your hair. Adding a fresh spritz of perfume, you gave yourself a smile of approval in the mirror before calling for wine to be brought up to your suite.

When there was a knock at the door, you opened without a care, expecting the attendant with your bottle of red. You gasped in surprise when you saw Jackson, down to his dress shirt with his suit coat folded in the bend of his arm. He also sported a very familiar backpack, but you failed to recognize it right away.

“That was fast,” you commented, noting his smoothed-back hair had become somewhat disheveled since you last saw him.

Jackson smirked and retorted, “I was highly motivated to get here.”

You stepped aside to let him in, teasing, “Did you get out unscathed? I imagine she has very long claws.”

Jackson whipped around as you closed the door and said, “I can’t talk about her. She’s a client.”

Stepping toward him, you swallowed and asked, “Do you fuck her?”

Jackson flinched, but replied calmly, “She’s a new client. She just wanted a pretty accessory on her arm. But that doesn’t mean she won’t want me to fuck her in the future.”

Bristling slightly, you shifted your weight and murmured, “You don’t sugar coat things, do you?”

Jackson sighed, gazing at you with affection, and replied, “I’m not here to lie to you.”

“I appreciate that.”

A knock at the door broke the tension, but before you could answer, Jackson grabbed your elbow and steered you aside. “I’ll get it,” he told you, withdrawing some cash from his pocket to tip the attendant.

Seeing him take initiative over you always sent a shiver up your spine. Your eyes lingered on his muscular back, the dress shirt hugging the curves of his shoulders. It took all of your restraint to keep your hands to yourself.

“You ordered wine,” Jackson stated, setting the bottle down on the nearby table.

You nodded and mused, “It seemed appropriate for the mood.”

“Do you always celebrate with wine after you’ve humiliated someone?” Jackson joked playfully.

You snorted, then frowned and you were quick to ramble, “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that. She won half of her ex-husband’s company in the divorce and Kim Enterprises considers them to be close allies. I’m sure he’s angry with me for what I did.”

Jackson lilted his head, amused by your conflicted response, and interjected, “He wants to fuck you, you know.”

Clueless, you questioned, “Who?”

“Your boss.”

With a roll of your eyes, you groaned, “Ugh, guys like him would fuck a chair if it had a warm hole.”

Jackson chuckled, but didn’t argue. His face softened when he sighed, “You may be little, but you are fierce.”

You simpered, feeling the tension returning again.

“So, you’re a lawyer,” said Jackson, unbuttoning his shirt and steering you toward the sofa.

“I am,” you replied, lowering your head sheepishly when his hands gravitated to your hips.

“For a massive corporation,” Jackson added, pushing your chest gently and causing you to land on the couch with a sharp intake of air.

“Gigantic,” you crooned, staring up at him with bated breath.

Jackson stroked your cheek with his palm tenderly, running a thumb over your bottom lip to encourage you to release the flesh from your teeth. “Do you like it?” he asked after letting a brief silence pass.

Without missing a beat, you answered, “I hate it.”

Jackson blinked in surprise, but it wasn’t your response that shocked him. He already had his suspicions that you were in a loveless relationship with your career, but he expected you would deny this to the death. Instead, you admitted it to him immediately.

“Then, why do you do it?” Jackson pressed.

The next words tasted sour on your tongue, “I’m very, very good at it.”

Jackson smirked and crooned, “I’m sure you are.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, your heart rate accelerated as Jackson held your ankle and began kissing his way up your bare shin.

“Already?” you rasped.

Jackson glanced up and teased, “Do you wanna chat some more?”

“Since when do you give a shit what I want... sir?” you mumbled, hoping he would rise to the challenge.

He always did.

Your partner cocked an eyebrow and ran his tongue across his teeth. “Do you need to be put back in your place, baby?” Jackson asked devilishly.

“Yes,” you purred, licking your lips. “I think I do.”

“I had every intention of rewarding you, being so territorial over me like that,” Jackson persisted, stroking his palms up your smooth calf. “But I see you would rather be punished for such behavior.”

“Reward me or punish me,” you sighed, trembling at his touch. “I will take whatever you give me.”

“You make me so hard,” Jackson hissed through his teeth. “Do you like hearing that?”

“Yes.”

Jackson pecked a single, affectionate kiss to the inside of your knee before standing between your legs, slinking away to his discarded backpack. “I’m gonna tie you up and fuck you,” he said a moment later, fishing through his bag.

Humming under your breath, you coaxed, “Please do.”

You bit your lip as he approached you with the blindfold on his palms. Closing your eyes, you let him slip the silky material over your face, tying it snugly behind your head.

“No peeking, beautiful,” Jackson muttered softly, pulling you by your arms from the couch and steering you toward the nearby bed.

All the while his feet moved between yours, his lips attacked your neck, nipping and sucking at your flesh. You giggled at his energy and with the way you relied on him completely to guide you. The moment your legs brushed the mattress, Jackson pressed a hand between your breasts and shoved you back.

“Don’t move,” he ordered quietly.

Obedient, you stayed there, arms splayed, and swallowed to dampen your dry throat.

With your eyes covered, you listened to his footsteps around the room, fixated to his movements. When you heard some shuffling in his bag, your heart throbbed. You licked your lips with anticipation, resisting the urge to shake your head in disapproval at your rapidly fluttering heart rate. Your body was well-trained by now, but even though you had a good idea of what would be happening over the following minutes, you never failed to heat up with excitement.

Jackson returned and straddled your thighs without a word, grabbing your dress and hiking the material up your frame. You lifted yourself slightly to allow the garment to be pulled over your head. Down to your bra and panties, you shuddered atop the bed and could feel a pair of eyes lingering on your breasts.

Hovering above you, Jackson lowered and kissed his way down your chest, trailing over your arm and settling on your knuckles. When rope sharply circled your hand, you trembled with arousal. His kisses stopped and instead were replaced with the rough, abrasive sensation of rope on your flesh. You wet your lips with a pass of your tongue and hummed lowly in your throat when the bonds were teased along your breasts, tracing the lines of your cleavage.

The rope snared your free hand and pulled you taut across the mattress, but the knots themselves were not severe. If you struggled, they would tighten, but when you relaxed so did the knots. As you normally did, you spun your arms, testing the hold of your binds and feeling them tense with restraint in response. Satisfied, you went slack and waited.

Watching you test the hold, Jackson smirked his approval when your body relaxed. “Such a powerful woman, huh?” he questioned darkly, grabbing your legs and pushing to bend your knees.

This was a tactic he often used. Jackson would force you to wallow in the silence, letting you only hear what he was doing as he prepared your body for what it would endure at his hands. Then, he would occasionally taunt you to bring you back to attention.

A few minutes later, you were restrained to his liking; a position you were all too familiar with. Knots were looped around your ankles and knees and connected to the headboard or frame, keeping your legs suspended in the air with very little wiggle room.

“Okay?” Jackson asked a moment later, stripping down to his pants and taking a long, lascivious look at your supple body ready for him to ravage for as long as you both desired. Something primal came over him each and every time you submitted to him. You were an alpha female in every sense of the term, but in the bedroom, you wanted desperately to be dominated and Jackson was all too pleased to oblige you.

You nodded, spinning your wrists to feel the tautness of your binds once more.

When you failed to give him an audible answer, Jackson reeled his hand back and smacked the inside of your thigh before making himself comfortable between your legs. You squeaked at the sting on your flesh while your innermost walls tightened with need on nothing.

Feeling a dampness in your panties, you hummed softly as the muscles in your legs began to burn from the position, but you knew the sensation would pass. Jackson swiftly grabbed your hips and dragged you downward, bringing your ass to the edge of the bed. The ropes protested, bending your knees even more.

“Too hard?” Jackson asked calmly, though he didn’t sound inclined to alleviate your knots.

Shaking your head, you whispered, “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” he replied, proud of your supplicant response. Then, he gripped your underwear and tore the material free, tucking what was left in the back pocket of his pants.

You gulped loudly and sucked in a harsh breath when you felt his fingers against your slit. Slowly but surely, he teased your lower lips with his long digits, stroking alongside your entrance and smirking at the way your hips moved involuntarily.

“So wet, baby,” Jackson crooned, leaning down to bite your fleshy inner thigh. “Getting tied up always makes you ready for me, doesn’t it?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, rolling your pelvis into his playful hand.

A palm suddenly collided with your thigh. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you panted, a blush creeping across your cheeks when you felt your arousal running down your skin to the sheets.

“Good girl, Jackson purred, nipping at your hip before exhaling his hot breath on your core.

Blinded, you focused on regulating your own breaths, spurned by your erratic heartbeat. Jackson slipped his thumb between your folds and stroked upward, finding your clit and flicking the bundle mercilessly. The tiniest of mewls fell from your mouth and you sighed his name.

“You are making a mess for my cock,” Jackson teased, rolling your clit painfully slow.

“I’m sorry,” you replied demurely.

Jackson stood up, reaching to hold your suspended legs and pushing his clothed crotch to your entrance. You moaned on instinct when you felt the rock hard erection inside his pants and flexed your legs when he rubbed his bulge against your cunt, putting pressure on your bundle of nerves.

“I’m gonna slide so easy inside this tight pussy,” Jackson continued, rutting his trapped cock against your folds and chuckling when he saw your hips trying to match his movements.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please, what?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for which response would hopefully get you what you wanted. “Please, fuck me,” you blurted out, bouncing your body toward his greedily.

Jackson snickered darkly and placed a hand on your lower stomach, pushing himself harder against your wet entrance, noting your juices were staining his pants. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he retorted.

You nodded rapidly, picturing the smug look that must be on his face at the moment if not for the blindfold keeping you from enjoying the view.

Jackson let his hands slip from your body slowly. Then, he was gone.

With the silk over your eyes, the rest of your senses heightened to compensate. You could hear Jackson drifting to the other side of the suite, following by the opening and closing of the mini refrigerator in the corner. When you recognized the familiar clinking of ice cubes in a glass, your mouth watered.

Jackson leaned against the wall and merely stared at you tied to the bed. Your chest was lifting rhythmically fast for breath, your breasts shuddering. Crimson flushed your face and beads of sweat were forming on your neck. He knew adrenaline and arousal were doing a number on you and for a few seconds, he let you melt in the silence of his absence.

“Goddamn,” he eventually murmured under his breath, wanting nothing more than to fuck you five ways to Sunday. “You are officially the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your head turned toward the sound of his voice, now primed to the general direction he could be lurking. Gulping loudly, you whined, “Why are you torturing me?”

Jackson wiggled the glass of ice back and forth, letting you hear what was undoubtedly going to be used on you, and retorted, “Because I know how much you like it.”

You fought a bashful smile. He wasn’t wrong.

His footsteps echoed through the room, bringing him closer to you. When you felt the heat of his body near your core again, you tensed on the mattress and blinked rapidly behind the blindfold.

Jackson lifted the cup to his lips and sipped the small trickle of water that had formed from the melting ice. A moment later, you whimpered softly when you felt the cold of a cube on your inner thigh. Jackson left senseless patterns on your flesh, watching the heat of your skin melt the ice with ease.

You sighed through the brief reprieve, jolting when you heard the deliberate clinking of cubes in the glass again. Jackson withdrew another and pressed just above the apex of your thighs, tracing the cold up your body and over your navel. You hummed slightly as the ice was circled to your breasts, landing squarely on a nipple.

Hissing through your teeth, you whined, “Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

“Down there,” you insisted. The aching was becoming unbearable. Your core was tightening and you could feel your arousal dripping from your entrance.

Jackson switched the last bit of the ice cube to your other nipple, gulping the saliva in his mouth at the sight of your perking buds. “Don’t make me gag you,” he warned sternly. “Because I will, but I would much rather listen to the noises I know you’re gonna make for me.”

You shivered at his poignant words coupled with the cool water now running down your sides. Jackson shuffled on the bed, making the mattress groan under his weight. You listened to the clanging glass as Jackson removed another cube and put it to his mouth.

Holding the ice between his teeth, Jackson dropped to his knees and smacked his hands on your hips, gripping your flesh tightly as he maneuvered the cube to your lower lips. A visceral cry rang from your throat and your legs flexed at the sharp, bitter cold.

Jackson teased the ice against your entrance, snickering darkly with how fast your scorching heat melted the cube held by his mouth. You heard the glass jingle again and braced yourself for the same torment again.

Ice gripped between his bared teeth, Jackson raked the cube up your slit and to your bundle of nerves, earning a high-pitched squeak from your mouth. You pulled at the binds, feeling the knots tighten on your wrists as you struggled. Jackson chuckled at your reaction and when the ice melted, he swirled his tongue around your clit and gave the nub a gentle kiss, rewarding you for your endurance.

This time, Jackson put two cubes in his mouth, resisting the urge to groan at the way his tongue began to numb. When you felt his wet muscle sliding into your entrance, you were convinced winter had taken up residence between your legs. Despite the cold, your walls pulsed with arousal and your desire for him only grew.

“Hngh, please,” you whimpered, hips aching as your pelvis tried to pull away from the sting of such an icy touch. Jackson buried his face in your heat, moving his head back and forth to pump his tongue in your pussy. In seconds, you warmed him back up and he kissed your core with approval.

“You think you’re wet enough for me?” Jackson teased coyly, licking your clit with affection. Your entire body was shaking with overflowing energy and tension. He loved torturing you. You were responsive - sensitive, and by that alone, he knew he was the only one fulfilling you.

You could feel your breasts shuddering as your chest lifted up and down for breath. Your heart was racing and the fire in your veins was no better. Your innermost walls were tightening on nothing, desperate for something to soothe the ache after all the stimulation you had endured.

Panting, you whimpered, “Yes, please.”

“You’re too tense,” Jackson cooed, stroking his palms up and down your smooth thighs.

You nodded an agreement, suspended in a head space of waiting and wanting until he deemed it time to give you what you needed.

Discarding his pants patiently, Jackson gripped his cock and pumped the shaft a few times with his fist before positioning at your entrance. Your body immediately reacted, at undivided attention, and your hips bucked eagerly. Instead of rewarding your insatiable hunger for him, Jackson resorted to raking his dick through your folds, teasing the head on your engorged clit.

You cried out at the motion, biting harshly into your lip to keep from begging.

“I hope you know you’ve worked too hard to be paraded around like a favorite pet,” Jackson chided, seemingly annoyed.

You would have been surprised by the change in tone if not for how desperately your body was craving some semblance of friction.

Jackson pushed the head of his length into your opening, immediately withdrawing and bringing the tip to swirl around your clit, soaked with your need.

“Fuck, Jackson, please,” you choked. “Please, just put it in.”

Abandoning his cock, Jackson reeled his hand back and slapped your bare thigh, smoothing his palm over the inflamed skin and sighing your name firmly to settle you down.

You heard the sudden rush of air a split-second before his hand collided with your hip in another firm smack. Squeaking in surprise, you grit your teeth and tried to keep still. You wanted to be embarrassed at how much you enjoyed this.

“Why do you let people treat you like that, baby?” he persisted.

Swallowing nervously, you were primed to find what would appease him - to hopefully satisfy him enough to finally fuck you. Jackson employed wicked games on occasion as part of the roleplay your relationship with him entailed and he knew better than anyone how much stake your career held on your life.

“I deserve it,” you replied morosely, knowing Jackson probably had an idea of the answer already.

Jackson cocked his head, stroking your thighs with affection. “Why do you deserve that?”

“I’m a bad person,” you confessed.

His brows lifted. “Because of the work you do?”

You sighed, “Yes.”

“I see,” he mulled.

You gulped down your nerves. Discussing anything remotely emotional always elicited some anxiety out of you.

Jackson grabbed you with both hands, spreading your folds apart to see your desire and arousal glistening down your entrance. He smoothed his palms up your body, settling on your breasts and caressing his fingers over your perky nipples. “Do you like being tied up and fucked because you think you’re a bad person?” he asked, returning his hold to your thighs.

“I like not having control,” you murmured. “For a little while.”

Jackson clenched his hands into fists as he propped his arms on either side of you, gazing down at your nude form bathed in the dim light of the suite. For fuck’s sake, you were beautiful when breathless and wholly at his mercy.

But more importantly, Jackson was pleased when you bore your soul to him. Even if just a few glimpses here and there, he liked that you had grown to trust him in some way.

“You’re a goddess,” Jackson whispered.

Your eyes fluttered underneath the blindfold and your cheeks flushed even more.

Jackson was careful to make sure no part of his body touched yours as he hovered into position above you. You could feel the warmth of his presence, but never the brush of skin against skin.

When Jackson finally coaxed his length into your folds, you howled his name in the back of your throat. God, that fucked him up good, listening to you cry out for him from the brink of losing your mind. The moment he slid into you down to the base, he drew back and did it again without a moment’s pause.

Your head was swimming from the eroticism of it all. Tied to the bed with limited movement, the only place he touched you was where your bodies connected. All you could feel were the binds around your limbs, the firm mattress at your back, and his cock rocking deeply back and forth in your heat.

Jackson grunted and released a shaky breath. The overwhelming urge was to pound into you until he heard his name chanted through the room, but Jackson focused on every long, lingering stroke of his cock within your velvet walls. He could feel your body gripping his length tightly each time he slid out only to thrust back inside.

A short, wet smack echoed without fail when his hips collided with yours and you shuddered at the sensation of feeling so full. Jackson licked his lips at the sight of your bouncing breasts and gripped the sheets in his fists a little harsher to keep from grabbing your mounds. Sweat festered around his neck and finally began to fall onto your body beneath him, blending with the moisture already coating your skin.

His slow, deliberate movements were the hardest torture you had endured thus far. Your body craved satisfaction after all of the foreplay and you twisted your wrists in the ropes impatiently, drawing your partner’s attention.

“Mm-hm,” Jackson hummed like the arrogant bastard he was, his cock twitching at the tense look of pleasure on your face. “You like feeling every inch of that dick stretch you open, don’t you?”

With a heavy whine, you mewled, “Yes, please give me more.”

Jackson brought a hand to your shoulder, pushing you down to meet his steady thrusts. Despite your pleas, he continued to take his sweet time.

“Fuck me,” you groaned, bouncing your hips to entice him to pick up the pace.

Jackson gave you a hard stroke and came to a dead stop, growling at the way you sharply flexed your thighs to clamp your pussy on him. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned, pressing a delicate kiss squarely between your breasts.

“You’re being too gentle,” you whined, panting for breath as if you had run a marathon. He was teetering you on the edge of a knife, pushing you toward a release before dragging you back.

Jackson rebuffed your complaints by lecturing, “It’s not too gentle. You’re just not used to it. If I wanna take my time with you, than that’s what I’m gonna do.”

That was true. You were accustomed to rough and hard since that was what you always requested.

You opened your mouth to complain, but released a cry instead when suddenly Jackson dropped his weight on you. The sound was cut short as he crashed his lips on yours, kissing you with abandon and pumping his cock into you at a deep, leisurely pace.

Jackson didn’t kiss you on the mouth often during sex. Not when he had restrained you and was either fucking you into oblivion or spanking you for misbehaving. This felt different, more intimate. You couldn’t put your finger on what he was after, but the entire tone of this tryst was foreign to you.

“What do you want from me, Jackson?” you asked shakily, sucking in a hard breath when he rewarded your submissiveness with a few rough thrusts of his cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to make you happy,” he replied, kissing a path to your neck, tonguing over your rapid pulse. “I’m sick of you being so miserable every time I see you.”

Lost behind the blindfold, you could tell this had ventured out of roleplay and into bitter reality. Swallowing nervously, you confessed, “You make me happy.”

Jackson sat up, pushing his cock in and out of your soaked pussy without pause. As he did, he held your leg and unfastened the ropes, following suit until both of your thighs were free to clamp on his waist.

At first, you let your tense limbs fall to the mattress, but Jackson was quick to take back his earlier position of his chest on yours and he hauled your thighs over his hips. Instincts took over and you locked your ankles behind his back, purring when his fingertips set their marks to your flesh.

You were losing yourself to the heat he created inside you, kissing him back with fervor when his tongue came to play in your mouth. A tiny moan escaped on your exhale as your nipples rubbed against his muscled chest and you spun your wrists in the binds, wishing you could dig your nails into his shoulders.

Jackson broke from your mouth and lifted his head to release a shaky groan, swearing through clenched teeth how good you felt and the words stoked the flames of your pride. You tightened your legs on his hips, rocking your pelvis in rhythm with his own to match his thrusts.

Feeling you break from the usual pattern, Jackson glanced down your body to see you rising to meet his pace and he set out to scorch his lips and tongue across your chest, lingering on your nipples before sucking bruises over your collarbones.

“Jackson,” you moaned his name, tipping your head back as the burning of an orgasm came to the forefront of your attention.

Your heart was uncontrollable, unquenchable in the desire to be sated this way, but your brain took a sudden hold and reminded you what was at stake. This was intimate - too intimate with someone you paid to fuck you and nothing more.

Jackson cupped your face and kissed you tenderly, taking your lip between his teeth. You whimpered at his gentle caresses, his affectionate kisses. It had been so long since someone touched you this way.

The ropes groaned as you pulled at them. The bed creaked when Jackson smacked his hips into yours; the wet collision of skin slapping skin echoing through the hotel suite.

“Jackson, please let me cum,” you murmured, biting your lip as you staved off the urge to scream his name at the top of your lungs for all to hear.

What he did next shocked you to the very core.

Jackson grabbed the blindfold and ripped the silk from your head. You gasped in surprise and blinked rapidly, waiting for your vision to adjust. And that was when you felt the few stray tears escape through your lashes.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” Jackson whispered, kissing you briefly.

There was never eye contact when Jackson was inside you. Even the first few times you employed his services and weren’t inclined to be tied up and blinded yet, he took you from behind. This was uncharted territory and while your heart may have been overjoyed, your brain was already set to panic mode.

But you couldn’t heed any of the warnings as your orgasm began. It was all too much; Jackson’s hands roaming your thighs and his chest rubbing your nipples, his mouth colliding hungrily with yours in loud kisses, his length steadily stroking the sweet spot inside you, and the way he raspily whispered your name.

You stiffened beneath him as the tension in your body unraveled. Your lips parted to moan, but no sound left your throat. Chest heaving and legs trembling, you surrendered to the heady feeling of bliss that washed over you, tipping your head back into the mattress.

Jackson slowed only slightly to coax the climax out of you, listening to your release as it gripped and soaked his cock. He kissed your jaw and sucked on your neck, picking up speed the moment you jolted in aftershocks.

Now, you could no longer hold back the sounds he tore from your body. Sensitive, you moaned over and over in harmony with his thrusts and pulled at the ties around your wrists. After a few more hard strokes that thumped you on the bed, Jackson pressed his parted lips to yours and moaned in ecstasy, grabbing hold of your hips at the last second as he emptied his pleasure into you.

“Shit, fuck,” Jackson groaned, coming to his senses and lifting to balance on his hands and knees. Tossing the straying damp hair out of his eyes with a fast tilt of his head, he released a long exhale of satisfaction.

You shuddered uncontrollably when Jackson rubbed his palm down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and down to the apex of your thighs. He pinched your clit between two fingers and the howl of his name that followed made him grin with satisfaction.

“Good girl” he whispered, delighted how responsive you were to every touch. In his eyes, you were glowing, but that may have just been from the sheen of sweat covering your skin.

His lips found your cheek, peppering kisses across your face, even on the tip of your nose. You blushed at the affection but curled your body away, even though your first instinct was to lean in for more.

“I wanted to scream,” you murmured, basking in the satisfaction of a much needed release.

“Let it all out, baby,” Jackson urged, stroking your chest with tenderness. “No one here to listen but you and me.”

Turning to look squarely into his eyes, you marveled how he stared at you, as if he had never seen someone so beautiful. “Why do you care so much?” you asked bitterly.

“Would you rather I not care about you?”

“Yes.” Shaking, you sobbed, “You can just leave me now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jackson replied firmly, cradling your head.

You sighed, closing your eyes and relaxing in his hold. He felt secure and constant, and you needed that. But you hated to admit such a thing to yourself.

“Maybe you should give it up,” Jackson murmured.

“Give what up?”

“Your job.”

Bristling with offense, your eyes flashed open and you hissed, “Untie me.”

Jackson noticed your shift in tone and rose slowly, taking his time in releasing the binds around your wrists. The moment you were free, you sat up in the bed and watched him return the ropes to his bag.

“Why should I give up my job?” you asked sharply, agitated.

Jackson turned back to face you, releasing a heavy exhale, and explained, “It clearly weighs on you. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to stay in a job that makes you hate yourself.”

“Careful,” you warned darkly.

Defiant, he folded his arms and said, “I’m allowed to give you my opinion. You didn’t pay me.”

“Wait a goddamn minute,” you growled lowly, rising to your feet and feeling his release slipping through your folds. “Did you fuck me for free so you would be entitled to an opinion?”

Jackson said nothing and that was answer enough.

Your body reacted as if it were in the familiarity of a courtroom and you argued with vehemence, “You’re not my boyfriend. You’re not even a friend. You’re the whore that sleeps with me for money.”

Jackson felt his chest deflate and he replied gently, “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m a human being capable of feeling things toward you and right now I feel worried.”

Slowed by the soreness between your thighs, you stomped to your purse, withdrawing an envelope of cash and rifling through a couple thousand dollars. Holding out the wad of money in his direction, you ordered, “Here, take it.”

“I told you, I don’t want…”

“I pay you to fuck my brains out, not give a damn about me,” you shouted, storming up to him and slamming the bills on his chest.

Jackson made no move to accept them, but he did whisper your name sadly.

You recoiled with fury, throwing the cash at him and yelling, “I’ve paid you. Now, get out.”

The pain on his face was evident and made your heart twist violently. He didn't deserve this and you knew that.

But in that moment, you needed to take control back and you continued, “There’s a reason I chose to pay a man to fuck me and not get into bed with any guy willing to have a fuck buddy. I was counting on you not to complicate things and just like the rest of them, you screwed it up.”

“I’m not him,” Jackson interjected.

“What?” you questioned, confused.

Jackson scowled and said, “You’re punishing me for another man’s bullshit. Or should I say men? It sounds like there’s been quite a few.”

Your hands shook with rage as you seethed, “Get the hell out or I’ll call security.”

Jackson stared, mulling over what he could possibly say to diffuse the situation after he had poured gasoline on an open flame. With a weighted sigh, he accepted defeat and grabbed his bag, trudging toward the door and leaving without another word. And without the money.

Finally alone, you allowed the tears to fall from your eyes.

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[sussex-nature-lover]

Friday 1st January 2021

Review of the Year Q1  January, February, March 2020. Pre Pandemic Lockdown.

Hello, I’m wishing everyone a Happy, Healthy and Safe Year Ahead. We always say that don’t we, but boy does it have so much more meaning this time.

What can I say about the year just gone that hasn’t already been said? Well, they say a picture paints a thousand words so I’m going to choose some of my own photographs to illustrate the most positive things we experienced over the strangest year of our lives - the year of the Covid-19 coronavirus world pandemic, which is still raging today (and let’s hope I don’t get to say that again)

I’m cheating at the very beginning because I’m starting off by using a photo from Christmas 2019 when we had one of our usual type of trees in the Hall.

I’d usually decorate the Hall tree in the traditional red and gold

Below is the little tree that gained promotion this year, but in pink and white, silver and gold. That was a bit fancy for me, but the Owls liked it.

It put on some healthy growth throughout the year and played host to many perching little birds, mainly Blue, Great and Marsh Tits. I had to clear off all the cobwebs and take out all the bits of twig and leaf before it could come indoors.

And there it was, pressed into service. Every year in this house we’ve had at least two trees, a 7-8′ and a 5-6′ but this year, Little Tree was upgraded to the starring role. Hoorah Little Tree, you’ve done us proud. One of the best things to enjoy about the tree is all the memories that come with the decorations collected year after year from all around the world and some dating back to my Granny’s tree, although they’re looking rather delicate these days.

You can see our fairly recent tradition of perching ‘Travis’ the Christmas Pheasant in prime position just underneath the Angel. I think he looked fab this year, you can see him a bit more clearly than on a bigger tree.

January Garden Visitors: Sparrowhawk

As for January 2020, it brought some horrid bitterly cold, wet and windy weather. We were lucky on the 10th when we drove to Ms NW tE’s house and she put on a fantastic lunch that we both really enjoyed. That was the last time we sat down close at the table with anyone else outside of our own home and ate together* Last time we dined out-out was November 2018! Those were the days. 31st January 2020 was also the last time I had my hair cut - now it’s the longest it’s been since I was about half the age I am now and it might even be longer than then and still growing.

* Ms NW tY did pop around after work for supper in February and we meant to make that a fairly regular thing, but the only other time we got to eat together was when it was allowed outdoors in the Summer - sat at opposite ends of a very, very long table. That was weird.

January: sunset 

The bad wet weather had started here in late October 2019 and we were caught in flooding in Cheshire. The Fire Brigade came to pump water off the road that  we were sat on for a very long time. Much worse came with horrendous floods in Venice when some of the canals became unnavigable. World weather certainly made headlines in 2020 with flooding and raging fires devastating massive areas. The National Trust wildlife report I posted talks about the effects of the weather and climate change and what they’re trying to do to combat as much as they can.

I also see that in January we’d started to hear of Wuhan and to talk about hand washing. A friend’s sister is living in China and she’d got a flight booked to visit in April. Another friend said their lockdown and travel restrictions may be lifted by then. Little did we know.

Looking back at last year’s photos, pre blog, I was surprised I caught the Green Woodpecker in February, photo taken mid morning on the 16th. 

This may be one of the last PP pictures I took (PP = Pre Pandemic) and it’s all the more remarkable because Storm Dennis had hit us.

On the 17th we went shopping for a care package for Ms NW tY who was sick and home alone. Raging fever, cough, felt like she had a chest infection and limbs like lead. Similar to what I had back in November 2019. It took seven months for me to feel tip top again, so who knows what on earth we had - not Covid obviously because the medical experts say it wasn’t over here then. They also said no need to wear face masks and children were impervious...

I’ll just leave those thoughts there.

February Garden Visitors: lots of Pheasants 

Meanwhile we were starting to talk about handwashing - a lot, 20 seconds minimum with soap and hot water. Sing Happy Birthday to You all the way through and keep on washing. Haven’t heard that so much in a while actually.

...and toilet rolls. Any mention of a forthcoming lockdown and panic buying prompts shortages immediately. It was toilet rolls, rice, pasta and flour. I’m sticking with my illustration of handwashing using one of my favourite soaps. Portuguese Soap, hard to beat but prohibitively expensive nowadays. We just looked at that link and whistled, drawing in our breath and sighing. I’m going to be refilling that bottle with something altogether more modest. Of course, so much more choice now for something a bit different, especially closer to home. Kent Soap. I’ve been glad this year that I ask for nice soap as a gift if anyone wants to know what I’d like and we got some for Christmas too, so that’ll keep us going.

White Hyacinths and Freesias for fragrance lifting the bleak days

The pandemic seemed to get worse and we were getting alarmed. I last went into a supermarket early mid March. Since then I’ve only been in National Trust shops, the petrol station and the pharmacy. I first wore a face mask when we took the car for its MOT, also mid March. Staff looked at me as though I was a bank robber. When we went to collect the car later the same day there was a notice on the door ‘Only two customers allowed inside at any one time’ and news was starting to spread...about health precautions, not about me.

Soon MOT tests were suspended and the country was facing a lockdown. Since then we had a time when both of our cars’ batteries died. We’ve SORN (officially declared off road) one - it’s taking us all our time to keep the other ticking over.

March Garden Visitors: hungry Rabbits at the seed trays

I started to write my Blog. At first I just used Google Sheets for seven daily scribblings and then I moved to this platform. Blog Number 1 here with the urls of the first few entries at the end. Little did I know at that stage that I’d be writing every day at least once a day and still going.

As National Lockdown got underway as well as writing we all started walking again and looking at nature and baking - boy did we all embrace baking last year. There must’ve been a country-weight of Sourdough and/or Banana Bread attempted with varying degree of success...lucky Joe Wicks came on board to get everyone up and doing a bit of keep fit, People started working from home, hosted social lives by internet, online quizzes and memes became a thing, a really big Thing. If we were lucky our food shopping was delivered straight to our door, TV cookery shows were full of advice on what you could use if you couldn’t source what you really wanted.

Just as my football team was on course for its first ever Premier League Championship win, the season had to be suspended (13th March) hoping to resume in April. It was a vain hope, but as our manager Jûrgen Klopp said, health and safety is far more important than anything else...we can wait 😉

Sport around the world, like everything else, had to be put on pause.

The situation got worse and every Thursday night at 8pm we went outdoors and clapped for our carers as they battled on trying to get to grips with this new virus and people falling sick in huge numbers. It was a whole new way of life.

To be Continued

--------------

WEATHER NEWS:

Forecasters are warning of possible further chaos, because the same conditions behind the 'Beast from the East' in 2018 - one of the worst storms to hit the UK in living memory - are forming again high up in the atmosphere.  

The 'sudden stratospheric warming' (SSW) event happens when the temperature in the stratosphere soars by 50C (122F). This 'reverses' Britain's wind pattern, from the warmer west out in the Atlantic to the east – and Siberia.

It can take two weeks for the effects of a SSW to be felt. This was the case in February 2018 with the infamous Beast from the East, which saw much of the UK gripped by travel chaos and school closures amid heavy snow. 

^ Not to mention Hospital closures too, which meant my operation was cancelled.

New Year’s Day Read:

The Wildlife Trust Marine Review of 2020

This report is also covered by the Daily Mail which also includes photos, video and information from other regional trusts around the country.

Decoration from the Standen Courtyard Christmas Tree

Once again some absolutely beautiful handiwork, The Tree of Life. What better message for a brand new year.

The Tree of Life symbol represents our personal development, uniqueness and individual beauty. Just as the branches of a tree strengthen and grow upwards to the sky, we too grow stronger, striving for greater knowledge, wisdom and new experiences as we move through life. 

Music for New Year from the Rivertree Singers

a community choral ensemble in Greenville, SC. USA

‘Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day’ Let’s hope so.

#nature photography #review marine NewYear music UKwildlife

[kuan1in]

Kang Daniel // Highschool!AU

kang daniel: the school’s treasured, handsome football quarterback

literally has a group of girls that sit at the front row of the bleachers for every one of his games… it’s wild

he’s quite popular among students, teachers, janitors, etc…

honestly people who don’t know him very well get the impression that he’s just a jock that get what he wants because he’s the star player but those people are immediately proven wrong by everyone else

everyone and their mother agrees that daniel is one of the most genuine and kindhearted people in the school

honestly he’s just a silly guy who spaces out a lot and talks to himself in class abt what he’s going to get for lunch

he’s always finding something to laugh about, whether it be seongwoo’s usual antics or jisung’s never ending list of things to complain about

all in all, he’s a pretty simple guy with simple tastes… but there’s one thing that only his closest friends know about

daniel loves cats. (i bet you saw that coming.)

most of the guys on the football team know he owns two cats but it’s only his friends that know the sheer amount of LOVE he has for them

daniel’s not exactly afraid to tell anyone about it, it’s just that no one asks so he doesn’t really bother (even if he really wants to tell the story of how he had to climb up a tree last week because peter got too excited while chasing birds)

obviously you know who daniel is… he’s the topic of every conversation at school after a game the night before

you never really interacted with him because, to put it simply, you had no reason to

none of your schedules aligned and you never saw him in the halls so honestly? it seemed like he was just a myth to you. an entity that existed only by word of mouth

you weren’t exactly someone who was into sports… although you had to admit football games sounded fun, you would just rather spend time in the warmth of your own home, not on some cold metal bleachers in the chilly season of fall

that, and you were the president of a club that didn’t seem to be very popular with the student body… animal welfare club

no matter how many posters you made, how many announcements you submitted to be said on the intercom, how many classmates you’ve tried to recruit, nothing changed the dwindling members of your club

really, they weren’t even active members… they were just kids trying to join a club to place on their college applications and pretend they actually did something while in high school

however you’ve refused to give up… you just wanted people to be as passionate as you were when it came to the protection of animals

moving the storyline along, there’s this one day when football practice is cancelled because the sprinkler system messed up and turned on during lunch. as a result, the grass didn’t have enough time to dry and was too dangerous to play on

daniel doesn’t really know what to do seeing as seongwoo is his ride home, but he was currently occupied with cross country practice

he’s wandering the halls, wondering what he was going to do until seongwoo was done when he happens to stop in front of a poster for animal welfare club

daniel never really pays attention to the flyers and stuff due to constantly being surrounded by people, but now that he’s alone, the cute little clip art of a cat caught his eye

he skims over the flyer and realizes that a meeting was actually going on at that point in time, and with time to kill, he heads over to the classroom

meanwhile, you’re setting up a powerpoint with the other members apathetically skimming through their phones, just wanting to get things over with

you’re having some trouble so you look up to ask someone to help you with the tech, but your eyes widen when you see a really tall,,,,,,,,, really cute guy,,,,, poke his head into the classroom

he looks over the class quickly and makes eye contact with you and to be quite honest, you were positive your soul left your body

he then SPEAKS and you almost fall just from hearing how deep this guy’s voice is

“is this… the animal welfare club? i hope i’m not too late…”

everyone’s attention immediately goes to the door and they’re staring in disbelief n talking under their breath like……. oh my god is that kang daniel in the FLESH

and when you realize who it is, you almost had a heart attack bc he’s????? real????? kang daniel is handsome and real?? and he’s at your club meeting????

daniel takes everyone’s silence as a yes and makes his way into the room, where he literally sits at the front, center desk. right in front of you

you get super flustered because oh my god why is he so close why did he choose that seat of all seats this is practically an empty classroom and he chose THIS ONE

and in the midst of you freaking out in your head, one of the members in the back of the class lets out an irritable grunt

“can you hurry up? we all have places to be.”

this happens a lot and you’ve just learned to keep your mouth shut and let them complain but this time…. someone speaks up for you

daniel turns around in his seat and says “they’re trying their best. you shouldn’t rush them when they’re practically running this club on their own.”

and his tone isn’t menacing at all but it still manages to strike fear into that one kid and shut them up immediately

and when you finally get the powerpoint to work, you look up to see daniel smiling and giving you his full attention while everyone else is just on their phones

you basically give the weekly presentation to daniel (who actually asks you questions and nods along) and the second you end the meeting, everyone but him is out the door.

even when you’ve finished shutting down the projector and putting back all the tech, you see daniel still sitting in the same seat just scrolling on his phone

you’re unsure of what to do seeing as you just lock the door and leave most of the time, but you were still grateful that he spoke up for you earlier…

so you muster all of your courage to gently tap him on the shoulder and when he looks at you, you almost want to turn around and RUN bc…….. he’s so handsome up close hnsjsksbdj

“i just wanted to say thank you for earlier… you didn’t have to say anything, really, but i still want to express my gratitude”

and then he gives you this grin that almost makes your heart jump out of your cheST and says “it’s no problem! i’m glad i decided to come here… i think i’m going to come back more often”

and you rlly cant believe that star quarterback kang daniel.. wants to join your club

there’s like.. this awkward silence bc you’re still in disbelief about the turn of events when he suddenly asks “oh, am i keeping you behind? i was waiting for my friend to get out of practice but if you need to leave i understand –”

and you honestly aren’t rly in a rush to leave.. so you’re like “oh it’s fine!! i can stay here and do some homework while you wait”

and daniel is at first insistent that he’s keeping you back and he keeps making attempts to leave but you’d feel bad to just shoo him out so you essentially force him to stay by just plopping yourself in a desk and taking out all your work

daniel stares at you for a second before bursting into laughter simply bc of how stubborn you are abt having him stay… and you can’t help but laugh either bc of how ridiculous the situation is

in the end daniel takes a seat beside you and the next thing you know, all your work is forgotten and you’re talking abt whatever happens to come to mind..

at some point you ask him if he has any pets and you see his whole face light up like an excited child while he tells you about his cats peter and rooney and it’s so cute you that you need a moment –

and you guys end up talking for so long that daniel gets a call from seongwoo asking where he is… and that he’s been waiting in the parking lot for half an hour

daniel sheepishly apologizes to seongwoo and tells you that he needs to go… you think he’d just say bye and leave but this boy actually helps you pack up your stuff and lock up the class and you’d be LYING if you said your heart wasn’t beating so fast…

you end up walking to the school parking lot with him and he asks for your number and you’re like ??????¿??????¿¿?

with fumbling hands you manage to put your number in his phone and once he leaves you’re still staring at the text he sent you to make sure it was the right number like… you can’t believe you met the faceless entity kang daniel, got him to join your club, AND got his number all in one day???

that night you’re just lying in bed with the message from daniel still open… and part of you wants to ask him how he’s doing or if he ate yet… and you don’t know why you keep on thinking about him but realistically, you eventually conclude that that he only did it to be nice… there was no point in texting him or whatever. so you just close the message and go to sleep

a week goes by and daniel never messages you.. you knew it was bound to happen bc he’s a busy guy but wow.. reality hurt.

you think he’s just joking when he says he’s going to come back to your club meetings… like you weren’t dense, you knew football practice always occurred during the club meetings

but alas… it’s the next week’s club meeting and you’re setting up the powerpoint when a familiar figure sits himself down in the front center seat. it’s daniel.

at this point you don’t know what to do, so you just ignore him and start the meeting, only acknowledging him to answer whatever questions he had to ask

as usual, everyone is out the door the second you end the meeting but daniel sticks around again… you’re purposely putting things away really slowly in hopes of him leaving but alas… when you’re done he’s still in the same seat, on his phone

he notices you’re done and looks at you with a smile n is like “hey, you never texted me?”

and you just ???????? he was???? expecting a text from you???

and he continues like “i seriously thought i had the wrong number or something… but you’re probably busy so i understand if that’s why!”

and you’re like “HJFKSHJ NO No it’s not that… i just thought that maybe you were busy and i didn’t want to bother you”

daniel lets out this cute chuckle and he’s like “i’m never too busy to have a conversation!!”

and you let out this breath that you didn’t notice you were holding and then you realize… “don’t you have football practice?”

daniel shrugs n is like “yeah but i told coach i had a club meeting n he let me go… i have to be back for the rest of practice tho”

and you’re like “!!!! what are you doing still here then?? go to practice!!!”

he gives you this small frown and is like “but i don’t want to leave you to lock up alone…”

and you nearly dIE BECAUSE????? HFSJHJFSHJHJFKW????????? WHY IS HE SO THOUGHTFUL AND CUTE????????

and it’s because of that interaction that you find yourself laying in bed once again.. staring at his contact name…… and finally mustering the courage to send him a quick message asking if he’s eaten yet

and to your surprise, he replies almost IMMEDIATELY and the next thing you know it’s 3 am and neither of you want to go to sleep

eventually it’s daniel who falls asleep on you but it doesn’t change the fact that you have butterflies in your stomach and you’ve acknowledged that hey… you might actually really like daniel

even if you never see each other during school hours, he’s literally always texting you (even during class, which results in you telling him to focus LMAO). and of course you still see each other at club meetings and he always takes the time to help you lock up.. even if you don’t know that his coach actually yells at him for coming in late

and one day you get a text from daniel telling you that he won’t be able to make it to the club meeting bc of a really important practice for the last game of the season

and you reply like “oh no i understand! good luck at the game!!”

and daniel is like “actually… i was wondering if you wanted to come? i can get you a ticket for free and everything”

and the game is on a friday night and you have nothing better to do… so why not? you accept his offer and he says he’ll give you the ticket the day of

it’s friday and you’re sitting with your friends at lunch when you feel someone tap you on your shoulder and it’s daniel with seongwoo and jisung

he hands you the ticket with a smile on his face and he’s like “i’ll see you there?”

and you return his smile and nod.. you then turn around to continue your lunch but like your friends are literally staring at you like omg…………………. kang daniel rlly just gave u a ticket to the game?? HE WANTS TO SEE U THERE?? OMG DOES HE LIKE YOU?????

and you feel yourself blushing at the possibility but you profusely shake your head like “as if he’d like me…”

your friends are like sure lmao okay whatever and they drop the topic but you can’t stop thinking about it like? does daniel really like you?

and the game rolls around and you’re on the bleachers still stressing over the idea that daniel could like you.. but also he can’t bc he’s daniel.

like he’s nice to you? but he’s also nice to everyone… and he probably has multiple people he’s texting like?? you’re only thinking realistically… and realistically it’s not going to happen

you look over at the crowd of girls cheering for him and you feel your heart drop a little bc at the end of the day… you’re probably just like one of them to him.

you decide to just forget about whatever feelings you have about him and focus on the game.. and turns out football games are just as fun as you thought. you find yourself shouting school chants with everyone around you and cheering for the various players like.. wow? why haven’t you gone to a football game before

and when the game is over and your school wins, everyone’s celebrating and cheering and your jumping out of your seat in excitement and before u realize it.. you’re cheering for daniel

and he’s celebrating with his friends on the field but somehow? he looks up at the bleachers to see you and he possibly the BIGGEST smile on face.. he runs up to the wire fence that separates the bleachers and the field and he’s calling you down

at first you don’t realize it’s you but you notice he’s ignoring all the girls sitting at the front row showering him with compliments.. his eyes are only on you and he’s repeatedly shouting your name and telling you to come down

in the moment of excitement, you completely forget about what you were thinking about earlier and you run up to the fence and you’re telling him good job and how well he did

and he’s just grinning and nodding along at you while you continue to go on and on about how cool he looked on the field

when you finally finish talking you realize that his gaze has been switching from your eyes to your lips

and before you know it… he’s kissing you through one of the gaps in the wire fence. it’s messy n he probably tastes like gatorade but it completely takes you by surprise

and you tense bc you can feel people staring at you and daniel seems to notice this so he pulls away.. he’s looking at your face trying to read your expression but it’s unreadable

and you want to say something so badly but you’re starting to hear those girls from earlier whisper things and daniel’s smile from earlier is completely gone n has been replaced with confusion

daniel opens his mouth to speak but all you can manage is an “i’m sorry” before you just… run away

daniel’s calling your name for you to come back but you ignore him and you just leave

you don’t know this but daniel’s standing there completely unsure of what to do… and probably for the first time in his life… daniel isn’t smiling and he doesn’t have anything to laugh about

you’re at home and you’re curled up in your sheets and you honestly don’t think you can ever face daniel ever again… like he probably only kissed you in the heat of the moment it was probably an accident or smth

you end up deleting all your past conversations with him and cancelling club meetings for the next two weeks just so you don’t have to see him again

little do you know daniel is DEVASTATED and he thinks everything is his fault

he’s constantly telling seongwoo and jisung that he scared you off and that he shouldn’t have kissed you and that you probably hate him now

jisung is like “daniel it’s not your fault… i’m sure it just took them by surprise” while seongwoo on the side is like “WHO ARE THEY ANYWAYS?? THEY’RE MISSING OUT YOU DON’T NEED THEM!!”

seongwoo and jisung are doing everything to try and cheer up daniel again but.. nothing is working. not even cute cat videos work

daniel’s now spacing out in class more often… and to everyone’s shock he’s even ditching practice and just sitting in the student parking lot waiting for seongwoo to finish practice and take him hime

it’s been a month since you’ve last seen daniel… and you think you’ve put aside your club for too long. if you were going to see him then you might as well suck it up

so the next weekly meeting come and you’re setting up your powerpoint and… daniel doesn’t come

you don’t know why part of you is disappointed but you just push those thoughts aside and start the meeting

once it’s over and everyone’s gone, you can’t help but realize how lonely it is without him there… like you’ve been doing it alone months before but now? it’s just so…. lonely

just as you shut the classroom door behind you, you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end of the hall.. but it’s not daniel. it’s seongwoo

he doesn’t seem to have a pleasant expression on his face and you think he’s just going to walk past you but he stops in front of you and is like “daniel’s in the student parking lot. he’s not acting like himself, so go talk some sense into him.”

and you’re just like “but why do i need to do it?? it’s not like i mean anything to him.”

and seongwoo would’ve smacked you upside the head if it wasn’t for the fact that daniel was smitten with you n he’s like “are you dense??? the guy likes you so much and you’re just out here breaking his HEART!!!”

seongwoo lets out this huff of frustration and just leaves you standing in the hall dumbfounded like… he rly… he rly does like you??

and your feet end up taking you to the student parking lot against your will and like seongwoo said, he’s just sitting on one of the parking blocks beside seongwoo’s car

the voice in your head is telling you to just turn around and leave but… you find yourself stepping over the parking block and sitting next to him

daniel doesn’t really say anything and he kind of just… ignores you to the best of his ability until you finally say something

“i’m sorry i ran away from you.”

but he just says “if you hate me you can leave. i get it.”

but the thing is he doesn’t sound hostile at all.. he just sounds hurt

“but.. i don’t hate you, daniel.”

and hearing you say his name, he finally looks at you and is like “then why did you run?”

and you just let out this sigh and you say “it’s because… you’re daniel.”

and he’s just sitting there like ???? what’s that supposed to mean

and youre like “idk you’re rly cool and popular and everyone at school likes you.. meanwhile i’m just a forgettable person who runs a failing club”

daniel sits there in disbelief like “listen…. if you were forgettable… i wouldn’t have spent the past few months spending as much time with you as i can after meetings. i wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for you to text me and immediately replying when you do. and i wouldn’t be constantly thinking about how you’re doing… also i wouldn’t have begged seongwoo for his game ticket to give to you.”

“so… does that mean you like me?”

and daniel finally cracks a smile that makes your heart melt and is like “was it not obvious before?”

and you smile at him back and this time you’re the one who kisses him.. and neither of u run away :’)

also seongwoo scares the two of you by turning on his car alarm. thanks seongwoo.

now that you’re dating daniel… word gets out QUICK

the football team is like “god he FINALLY got a significant other… he finally put those muscles to use…”

jokes on them. u love him for his big goofy grin and his cute laugh and his cute face and his cute love for cats!!! the muscles are only an added bonus!!!!

jisung is constantly cooing over you two like “ah… young love rly is the most beautiful thing to exist…”

seongwoo was a bit hesitant at first bc of what happened before, but he soon gets over it and is constantly complaining abt how you stole his soulmate from him… his bromate.

daniel still spaces out in class but now he’s just talking out loud like “i wonder what class they’re in rn… i hope they’re having a good time…. maybe i’ll buy them lunch today..!”

and the students around him are trying to focus but they gotta admit… it’s kinda cute :’)

daniel goes out of his way to find you during school and walk you to your next class, even if his class is on the other side of the building. he’s also v insistent on carrying all your books for you

there was this one time after you closed up the club classroom and you just made a small remark like “i’m kinda tired”

daniel straight up said “ok. get on my back”

“what”

“get on my back i’ll carry you to the parking lot and ask seongwoo to take you home.”

“daniel i was just saying –”

“get on my back”

also………… he gave you his football jersey n you wear it as pajamas

you guys facetime before bed and he noticed you were wearing it and he almost LOST IT

told you to send him a selfie in it and now its his home screen dhsvdhdbfhfu

he’s always super sleepy and you tell him to sleep earlier but he refuses like.. 1) he wants to talk to you and 2) he has no other time to read his comic books….

ends up falling asleep with a comic book in his hands while facetime is still on. u learned that he talks in his sleep… and one time u heard him say he loves you and you almost died

also did i mention dates to the animal shelter to volunteer and take care of the cats?

anyways… daniel refuses to say it out loud bc its embarrassing but he finally has something he loves more than cats… and it’s you

#wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #kang daniel scenarios #kang daniel imagines #produce 101 scenarios #produce 101 imagines #daniel scenarios #daniel imagines #wanna one #kang daniel #produce 101

[gukiex]

Crushed Velvet Ch. 2

Genre: Vampire AU, Angst, Smut, Supernatural, Slight Fluff

Paring: Skylar x Jimin, Skylar x Yoongi, Skylar x Taehyung, Skylar x OT7

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: When is a monster no longer a monster? When you fall in love with it of course.

Chapters: 1

Character Summaries: Crushed Velvet: Park Jimin | Crushed Velvet: Min Yoongi | Crushed Velvet: Jeon Jungkook | Crushed Velvet: Jung Hoseok | Crushed Velvet: Kim Seokjin | Crushed Velvet: Kim Namjoon | Crushed Velvet: Kim Taehyung

"What the fuck are you doing with a human girl Jimin? And why does she smell like that?”

The frustration in his voice was evident. Yoongi had an intense gaze set upon the poorly dressed young woman, devouring every single part of her with his mesmerizing eclipsed violet eyes. This caused a feeling of consternation to course through her body like electricity forcing her to stay frozen in her tracks. The tantalizing male, who looked as if he were some type of nobility, was capable of creating a completely contradicting feeling within Sky to stir. She was udderly terrified by him, although she couldn’t place her finger on why considering she wasn’t nearly as intimidated by Jimin or his protégés—even after almost being consumed by Taehyung. However, even with the fear that Yoongi invoked, she was incredibly drawn to him and couldn’t help but ogle at the sight.

“We can discuss all of this over a glass of wine, how does that sound? I have a beautifully aged Domaine de la Romanée-Conti just waiting to be opened.” Jimin offered swiftly.

“I’m not one of your little toys that you can just win over with some wine and sweet talk but I will take you up on the offer. You have a couple of hours to explain to me what the hell is going on and why you’ve kept me ill informed. I swear you have a death wish, Park Jimin.”

Jimin was incredibly smooth. The way he spoke, the way he dressed, he had the vibe of a classy english man from the eighteen hundreds. Even the way he walked with such confidence and sex-appeal, made Sky exasperated with him simply because she didn’t want to give in to the temptation of vampires. This is what they were designed for after all; seduction and allurement. It was something that she wanted to restrain from. She had so many thoughts running through her head right now, especially after witnessing the rage directed at her presence that came from the most hostile yet beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes upon. Frustrated by her conflicted feelings, Sky turned around and closed her bedroom door, making sure to lock it behind her before crawling into bed and shutting her tired eyes for a well deserved rest. Even a short sleep where she could get a brief escape from the evening’s chaos would be better than nothing. Sky forcefully shut her eyes, coaxing herself to sleep, attempting to separate herself from her external environment.

Just as her body began to relax she heard a familiar voice sounding from the closet.

     “Damn Sky, you look awfully delicious in that nightie of yours. Mind if I get a closer look?”

     Rattled, Sky hopped out of bed and flicked a lamp on only to see Taehyung standing in the frame of the closet with a smug grin on his face.

     “Tae, I swear to satan if you try anything I'm going to scream for Jimin to get in here and kick your bloodsucking ass.”

     “Why not just scream for me instead?” Tae mused can crossing his arms against his broad chest as he leaned nonchalantly against the closest frame.

     “You’re disgusting." Sky scoffed, "How long have you been in here anyway?”

     Unaffected by the girls jab, Taehyung continued on with his bashful commentary. “Long enough to see you slip into that sexy little nightdress you're wearing and to see the way Jimin touched your back. Before you get all comfortable here there are some things that you should know about our ‘courteous’ leader.” Taehyung warned and Sky knew she should hear him out but she wanted to give the elder vampire the benefit of the doubt.

     “I’m sure I'll find out in due time but right now I'd like you to get the fuck out of my room, I'd prefer to sleep peacefully without feeling like I'm either going to have your fangs in my throat or something somewhere else when I wake up. Goodnight.”

     Her hand grabbed the taunting young man by the shoulders and forced him out of the bedroom with blunt force. He giggled at how bold she was getting even after the incident outside of the bar, this comfortability made him admire her a little bit more. Taehyung was beginning to feel things that weren't associated with his normal overbearing hunger, causing him to experience a whirlpool of feelings about the entire reality of having her around.

     Meanwhile the two rival vampires were sitting in the common room discussing the series of events that had taken place.

    “So what would you like to discuss, Yoongi?” Jimin asked, peering over the rim of his wine glass before taking a sip of the bitter substance.

    “Can you not play dumb? Can we start with Jungkook and what you're going to do about his control? And don't get me started on Taehyung, he needs to give up that goddamn attitude and reckless behaviours he has, he's like a child searching for attention.”

      “Well firstly, Jungkook is only a newblood, I'm sure you remember what it was like when you first transitioned Yoongi. Its hard but he knows when he does something wrong. You need to be patient with him, if not he's going to retaliate and it could be incredibly dangerous for all of us.”

      “And Taehyung? He seems to be the chaotic driving force in all of this and he's an instigator. Jungkook wouldn't have half of the trouble if that little shit wasn't pushing him. And where exactly are you during all of these excursions those boys have? Actually let me guess, probably fucking some slut unworthy of our time.”

       “Do you actually expect me to follow those two everywhere? That's simply not going to happen and there's no one else who can look after them. You have to take into consideration that Tae doesn't know his bloodline, doesn't know why he's here and doesn't know who he is. At least the rest of us are aware of our comings, I don't exactly blame him for his actions.”

        “And what about the little tramp you have in the room upstairs? Is she just another casual fuck for you to toy with? I'd love to know all about that scent she’s putting off.”

        “Well honestly Yoongi I can't answer that which is why she's here. What I do know is that she has to be involved with vampires, maybe even have some kind of history with us. She smells of virgin but it's something stronger, it's intertwined with the scent of a newblood or even a hybrid. It's not purely human and I need answers.”

       “Well until you get those answers, don't bring her around me. Figure out what you have to but I want absolutely nothing to do with such filth. And as for those two boys, get them under control. If you fail, then I'm going to take them both and discipline them myself.”

       “You must be forgetting a vital piece of the puzzle Yoongi, Jungkook is mine. I turned him and now he's bonded to me. This automatically makes Tae a part of the equation as well since those two come in a pair. If you so much as dare lay a hand on either of them, I swear I will end you.”

        After the heated conversation between the two men concluded, Yoongi stood from his chair, sipping back the last of the wine before storming away. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder, glancing at the room where Skylar was peacefully dreaming. He could hear her deep breaths and the pulsating of her heart. The scathing immortal felt an unfamiliar feeling sweep over him, it was a tranquility that made him incredibly uneasy. He followed through with exiting the estate but the image of this young woman became ensnared in his reverie.

“Come on Sky, get your lazy ass out of bed we’re going on an adventure.” Taehyung said as he charged through the doors of the sleeping woman’s room.

“Didn’t I lock this door?” It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a statement, rubbing her eyes at the light that was now attacking her retinas. Sky was filled with annoyance at this dammed boy who just couldn't seem to give her any privacy.

“Oh babe, a locked door means absolutely nothing in a house full of vamps, so learn to love it.”

She audibly sighed and glanced up at the young man. He looked— normal? His hair was slightly dishevelled and he was dressed like a casual guy in his twenty’s. His distressed dark wash jeans were rolled at the ankles, accented with his cherry red Doc Martens while sporting a basic white v-neck tee. Her eyes fixed on his form, she could visibly see through the white material as he stood in the direct morning light that casted though the large window in her room. The way he looked right now; so normal, so alive, it made her attentiveness wander to the way he pressed his lips against hers a couple of nights ago. She shook herself out of it, tightly shutting her eyes and and grabbing her large-framed glasses and placing them on her face.

“Alright Bilbo what adventure are we going on today then?”

The fact that she agreed to his plans for the day got the man incredibly excited. He hopped on the bed next to Sky causing her to jump up in surprise at his swiftness.

“We’re going cliff-diving. It’s absolutely beautiful outside today and it’ll be fun. I can show you one of the best views in South Korea, its about a thirty minute hike from here and you’ll love it. Hey, you can take your camera for your blog!”

She was confused as to why he was being so ordinary with her, wondering if he genuinely wanted to spend time with her or if it was a ploy to get her alone in order to finish what he started when they first met last week. She quickly brushed that idea to the side, she knew that Jimin would most likely kill him if he were to try and feed on her. Regardless of that possibility she loved swimming and it would be a perfect article for her blog and there could potentially be some fantastic shots of the scenery here.

Sky climbed out of bed and prompted Tae to leave so she could get ready for the day. Luckily, Jimin was courteous enough to let her grab her suitcase from the hotel before taking off so she had everything she’d need. The eager young woman picked out her favourite hiking clothing and quickly threw it on. Unfortunately a bathing suit wasn’t something she had remembered to pack so she’d have to jump in clothed but that didn’t matter much to her. She sauntered into her ensuite bathroom to wash up and throw on some makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror intently, looking at every flaw with great concentration. Grabbing her makeup bag, she pulled out her foundation applying to every area precisely to conceal what she was so focused on. There was a faint sound of bedsprings squeaking in the room so she peered out of the bathroom door only to see Jimin sitting there with his legs crossed, smiling his beautiful smile directly at her.

‘Why are all these fucking vampires so goddamn sexy’ she thought to herself as she caught herself eyeballing the princely leader. She redirected her attention and smiled her half-smile at the man who was quite comfortable on her bed.

“Well good morning beautiful, did you sleep well? I know Taehyung has been quite bothersome but honestly that boy just enjoys fooling around and truthfully, I think he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. But listen, if he becomes too overbearing I need you to let me know because I’ll handle it for you okay sweetheart?”

“What did I say about pet names?” Sky replied in annoyance.

“Sorry, force of habit. Most of the women I take home love being called affectionate names, it’s proven to be incredibly popular.”

“So you’re basically trying to get me into bed by calling me generic names? How on earth do you get so many girls to fuck with you?”

“The words that are coming out of your mouth are far too vulgar for a girl like you to be uttering. Stop using such profanity or I’ll give you a reason to.”

“Oh no, Jimin’s going to punish me. I’m trembling.” Her response was incredibly sharp and it actually got to Jimin which is a rare feat.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like Taehyung and I definitely don’t need another one of those around. Why are you all dressed and carrying a backpack? Where are you heading.”

“Well actually, Taehyung and I are going cliff diving today and it’s a short hike so I needed to be prepared. I’m really excited, is the view really that beautiful?”

“You’re going into the woods alone with him? That’s not very clever of you don't you realize it's the perfect place for him to feed? Also, aren’t you nervous of him? I could just take you out somewhere nice if you wanted? We could go get a meal at one of the best restaurants or maybe take in a show?”

“Tae doesn’t scare me, honestly I’m actually beginning to tolerate his company. Plus he likes adventures, as do I, so we can get along in that aspect. And I think he genuinely fears what you’d do to him if he tried anything with me so it will be fine.”

“Alright, well just be careful ok? But I’d still like to schedule some time with you, I know little to nothing about the beautiful Sky so it’d be nice to get better acquainted.”

Jimin stood up and straightened out his grey pullover sweater. It was astonishing how attractive these creatures became to Sky when they dressed more and more casually. She couldn’t help but feel as if they were a group of young college guys that she shared a building with. They were just so desirable but little did she know they all thought the exact same thing about her.

The eldest vampire bid his farewells to his estates new occupant as he exited the bedroom, a concealed frustration on his alluring face. He hated how acquainted she was getting with Taehyung and it sparked a jealousy within him. Jimin was possessive, he didn’t fussy either of the boys developing a relationship of any sort with the girls he brought home -- even if they were just a simple fuck. When Sky mentioned her endeavours for the day every single one of his insides twisted. The only thing he wanted to do was grab her by her soft curves, throw her underneath him and show her which suitor she should really invest her time in. Only It just wasn’t quite the time do something like that just yet. He swallowed his burning desire and continued to walk out of the oblivious young woman’s room. The princely creature swept his hair back from his eyes, he was overwhelmed with lust and jealousy due to his dominant nature but he decided to brush those feelings aside for the time being.

“Hey, move your ass! Aren’t vampires supposed to be quick on their feet?” Sky taunted the immortal who was following behind her up the cliff.

“Oh we are, but I prefer the view from behind much better.” He responded with a snarky grin before swiftly joining her side which startled her, causing her to trip as strong hands held her steady.

Skylar looked up at Tae’s face. It looked so beautiful in the the sunlight and this was the first time she’d really gotten to take in his features up close and for once there was absolutely nothing threatening about it. He simply looked like a gorgeous young man, someone that girls would swoon over and would vote as the ‘best looking’ in high school. His eyes were bright and lively today while his silver hair reflected the warmth of the sun, making it shift to a slightly softer shade as opposed to the icy appearance it normally had. Everything about him made her want to lean her face in closer to his but she opted to pull away and steady herself, continuing the hike to find their diving spot.

     “So are you nervous? It's a long way down babe.”

     “Tae stop calling me babe or I'll slap the shit out of you.”

     As they approached the top of the cliff, the luscious vegetation that they had been trekking through opened up to display a beautiful sight of the sun’s mirrored image on the serene waters in front of them. In awe, Sky pulled out her camera and got a few shots while Tae was observing her discretely. He started to remove his shift, exposing his toned form, pale skin looking soft in the heat and he smiled at Sky, prompting her to shed her own clothing and get ready for their leap from the cliff.

“I don’t have a bathing suit so I’m gunna have to jump in with my clothes on, does it get very cold as the day goes on?”

“Do you plan on walking all the way back in dripping wet clothing? Keep in mind we forgot our towels to dry you off. You could catch a cold. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

‘Fuck it’ she thought to herself as she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off, exposing her black embroidered boy-short underwear. Tae’s eyes opened widely in surprise at her boldness before he broke out into laughter.

“Oh my god Sky, I knew you weren’t like most girls but really? You don’t even own a sexy pair of underwear.”

“Shut up Tae, they have lace and embroidery on them, plus they’re crazy comfy. Sorry I’m not exposing my asscheeks to you.” She snapped back as she grabbed at the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head as the ‘young’ man ogled at her black lacy bra. When Sky threw her shirt to the ground she noticed him staring and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“Can you please not look at me like that, it makes me very uncomfortable.”

“I know that we had an interesting start Sky but I’m not going to hurt you or do anything that would upset you, I promise. I’m actually quite fond of you. You’re lovely, don’t hide away from me.”

He walked up to her looking at her intently. There was a connection between the two, it was something that was evident almost instantly after she moved into the estate, so naturally the two had a sense of familiarity right away. He grabbed her and threw her on his back, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and legs secure around his hips as he held her tightly. He started walking towards the edge of the cliff and slowly began to quicken his pace into a run. As they approached the fall, Sky shut her eyes tightly.

“Sky you need to look, you’re going to miss the view.”

As she opened her eyes he leaped from the cliff, falling towards the crystal clear water. A smile lit up on the young woman who was purely intoxicated with adrenaline and excitement. She was experiencing a rush that she’d never felt in all of her twenty years of living. It was like an out-of-body notion that felt electric.

The pair entered the chilled water smoothly, not interrupting its serenity too much. She let go of Tae and began to swim to the surface. When Sky emerged she didn’t see the boy and got incredibly concerned, looking around frantically until he popped up directly behind her, making her yelp as he had frightened her.

“For christ’s sake, don’t scare me like that, I thought you had drowned or something.”

“Sky… are you forgetting what I am? We don’t ‘drown’.”

“Right, oops. I have trouble remembering that you’re not just some twenty-year old fuckboy that I’m used to dealing with.”

“To say the least.” He giggled at her oblivious nature. It was endearing to him.

The handsome vampire grabbed her by the hand and swam back to shore, climbing out of the water. She couldn’t stop staring at him, dripping wet as the light perfectly highlighted the contours of his torso. He swept his hair out of his eyes, revealing the entirety of his gorgeous face. What she failed to notice, due to her focus on him, was that he was focusing on her just as much. He couldn’t help but stare at every curve of her body, she was flawless and he felt a rush of desire surge through him, it was a feeling he was never able to distinguish as he had never partaken in sexual activities prior. He had always confused lust with hunger but right now he knew exactly what needed.

Sky similarly felt magnetized to him. She enjoyed his company, looking at him, but she didn’t feel an emotional attraction to him. However, she did feel a powerful sense of lustfulness towards the immortal, a feeling she’d felt for many men but never this intense. The two exchanged a poker face when in reality they were both mentally fucking one another. Sky decided to brush it off and start climbing towards where she’d left her things and Taehyung followed, both ignoring the moment they just had at the edge of the water. They got to the top of the cliff once again and Tae grabbed her shirt from the ground tossing it over his shoulder.

“I think I like you better shirtless.”

“Are we really doing this right now, can I just get dressed please.” Sky was annoyed with him, not only for taking her shirt but because of the sexual frustration this man was causing her to have.

“If you want it I suggest you come get it.” he replied as she took off with her shirt down into the trails.

Sky immediately chased after him through the pathways in the trees until she suddenly lost sight of the boy when he turned off the trail. She wouldn’t dare follow any further as she knew she’d end up getting lost. The disoriented girl stood there for a moment as she got her bearings back.

“Tae, please come here with my shirt. I don’t know my way back.” She tried to sound calm, but in reality she was feeling a sense of fear sweep over her as she realised her situation.

“Are you afraid?” She heard Tae’s voice whisper from the trees.

“You said you wouldn’t do anything to upset me, well you are right now.”

“So you are afraid. As you should be considering what I’m about to do to you.”

As he emerged from the trees he walked towards the frightened girl, watching her face warp in distress. She didn’t know what to expect from him, she just stood there paralyzed.

“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you and if there‘s one thing you should know about me it’s that I keep all of my promises.”

He reassured her as he grabbed her by the waist and planted an aggressive kiss onto her soft lips, pressing her against a large tree as his body pressed into hers. She reciprocated the kiss and moaned softly into his mouth. Every ounce of distress she was experiencing escaped her body as she felt his strong hands on her hips. The kisses began to deepen and quicken as both tongues fought for dominance. Tae bit down on her bottom lip and stared directly into her eyes causing her body to flare up and her cheeks to turn bright red as she realized that the pair were still only wearing dripping wet underwear. There was very little fabric separating the two bodies from intertwining with each other and she wanted to remove that barrier.

Sky lifted her hands to unclasp her bra as he slapped them away, ripping the bra clean off of her chest. Taehyung trailed his aggressive kisses down to her soft breasts, leaving his mark wherever he felt it necessary as he attacked her chest. Sky gripped her fingers into his messy wet hair as he trailed even lower to her waist, gripping the sides of her boyshort underwear and pulling them to the ground. Tae lifted one of her legs over his shoulder to create better access.

“Fuck Sky, you’re so wet.”

Before she could respond she was cut off by the sensation of the his tongue pressing against her little bundle of nerves, sending her into euphoria. She tipped her head back against the tree as Tae inserted a finger inside of her as he continued to circle her clit with his tongue. He began creating a ‘come hither’ motion with his digit inside of her, hitting her g-spot repeatedly. She was moaning so loudly at this point that she was nearly screaming as she felt her walls start to tighten around his fingers.

“Tae don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” she said between shaky breaths.

“Not yet you’re not.” he said before pulling his finger out and standing up to face her. He licked her juices off of it while keeping eye contact with her the whole time. This made her even more red than she already was from the pleasure she had just experienced.

The immortal young man gripped at his boxer shorts, pulling them down as his hard member was released from it’s uncomfortable confinement. He grabbed both of her thighs, picking her up and she wrapped her legs around his body. Tae positioned himself at her entrance and looked at her for approval. Sky nodded in agreement and he thrusted into her. Her eyes welled up at the initial pain she felt from having Taehyung inside of her. He held himself there for a moment until she had adjusted to his size before slowly rolling his hips against hers, replacing the pain she had felt with pure ecstasy.

“Sky you’re so tight, you feel so good around my cock.”

She gripped at his shoulders for support as the animalistic thrusts became quicker and harder, making her scream his name in pleasure. You would never guess that these two had both been virgin’s prior considering how amazing they could make each other feel. It were as if Tae had been possessed by some sex god with how precise his movements were. That was until the faint scent of blood passed his nose.

He knew the scent was coming from Sky and it took everything in him not to give in to the aroma. He continued fucking her against the tree while the scent lingered in the air, making the beast inside of him break out. He began circling her clit with his finger to quicken her orgasm as he continued pressing himself into her. His thrusts became sloppy as he got closer to his orgasm and he felt her walls tightening around his member as well.

“Cum for me Sky. I give you permission.”

As he whispered into her ear, her vision blurred and she felt herself escape from her body as she rode out her orgasm while he filled her with his warmth. When he pulled his finger away from her folds, he seen the crimson color that coated it. Skylar was oblivious to what had happened and he quickly had to do something about it. He pulled out of her and got on his knees to clean her up. He wanted to save her from embarrassment, he didn’t want to make losing her virginity even worse and he also needed to do something about the blood. He kept his composure and using his tongue, cleaned away everything, including the blood. His hunger nearly took over and he would’ve torn her apart, but there was something preventing him from doing that. He couldn’t bear to hurt her, plus he made a promise. A promise that he intended to keep.

When he finished getting rid of the mess he laid back on the grass, grabbing sky to lay next to him. The duo relaxed in silence as they caught their breath and stared at the clouds.

“Well now I don’t have a bra to wear home, thank you for that.”

“Bra’s are lame anyway.”

Sky giggled at him, she sat up and grabbed her boyshorts to put on and threw his boxers on his chest.

“We should go get our things, the sun will start to set soon and I fear Jimin may get worried.”

Taehyung was concerned as to why she cared about Jimin but he didn’t question it. She reached down and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him to his feet so they could head to the opening where their stuff was in order to get dressed and head back to the house. Taehyung couldn’t stop looking at her, even after what just occurred in the woods they were the same. There was no tension, no awkwardness, nothing had changed. It felt as if it was something that they just do, it didn’t mean anything and there were no strings attached and he loved the idea of fucking her whenever they felt like it without anything involved.  Sky had the exact same notion and was incredibly pleased with the idea of having Tae whenever she wanted it.

“Hey Jimin, we’re home! Tae didn’t kill me luckily.”

As the two entered the front doors with Tae’s arm draped over the dishevelled girls shoulder, Jimin and Jungkook smelled something strange coming from them both. It was the scent of sex, the scent of someone being fucked. Jimin filled with rage while Jungkook; a sense of curiosity. Sky wandered up to her room to take a long bath while Tae stayed in the common room with the other vampires.

“You fucked her didn’t you? How much compelling did you have to do? Or did you just rape her?” Jimin snarled at his protégé.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of raping her Jimin. I may be impulsive and reckless but I’d never hurt Sky, shes the only other person around besides JK that I actually enjoy the company of.”

“Yeah well I know damn well she didn’t let you inside of her that easily. Was it consensual?”

“Yes.”

Jimin walked over to the liquor cupboard, grabbed a bottle of whisky and stormed to his quarters, slamming the door in anger.

“I think you struck a nerve in the boss, Tae.”

“That’s something I have a knack for apparently. Jungkook, why do you think he’s so angry?”

“Well honestly I think he wanted to take her virginity, he brings women home all the time for a good fuck but rarely are they ever virgins. Plus she’s kind of part of the family now considering how much she knows about us. She lives with us for God’s sake.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Skylar was drawing up her bath when she heard the door to her room shut. She turned around to see a flustered Jimin staring at her with anger in his eyes while she was simply wrapped in a towel. Jumping up, she held her towel in place so that it wouldn’t fall from her sudden movement, exposing her to the intimidating man that was glaring at her. He walked up to her and kept walking until her back was against the wall of the bathroom. He slammed his hand against the wall, his face just inches from hers.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow night.”

Her eyes widened at his proposition considering how aggressive he had appeared just moments ago. Now he was asking for… a date?

“I’m not going on a date with you Jimin.”

“I never said it was a date, I just want to spend some time with you, let’s go get sushi tomorrow.”

“You eat human food?”

“I eat fish but that’s it. So what do you say?”

“Fine, but it’s not a date.”

His face lit up as he flashed his enchanting smile at her before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Now turn the bath water off before you make a mess and I’d have to punish you.”

The water was about half of an inch away from the rim so she lunged over to the faucet to turn it off, and when she turned around the vamp was gone. Sky sighed in frustration and dropped her towel to the floor, climbing into the hot water.

What have I gotten myself into...

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[just-a-spark]

The Before, and The After Part 14

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (18+ to be safe)

Series Masterlist

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family, a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events leading up to, and following, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

“Oh my God. Oh my God he’s going free. I knew this would happen.” Lizzie hyperventilated as Blanc held her arm and Marta approached.

“I don’t understand.” Marta muttered, pushing a small piece of hair behind her ear, “We all heard him confess. What happened to the confession?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure one of the Thrombeys had something to do with it.” Blanc growled, moving to take a step away, but Lizzie clamped down on his arm with her iron grip.

“I’m scared, I don’t know what he’s going to do.” Lizzie told Blanc desperately, looking past him at the Thrombeys, “When he thought he was gonna get away with it, he wanted me back. He said he wanted me to get a divorce, he still wants me. What if he tries to kidnap me, we know he murdered Fran, who knows what else he could do? He could kill you! He could kill you, he could kill any of us.” Lizzie sobbed into Blanc’s grey jacket and the man looked at Marta for help, but she just stared in palpable confusion.

“What the hell happened back there? What happened to my evidence?” Phil yelled at Stephanie and she put her hands up in defense.

“I don’t know. I’m as much in the dark as you are.” Stephanie said quickly, “One of my friends recommended I take the case, so I did. If the case had holes in it, I didn’t create them, I just found them.”

“I don’t understand, Blanc, you were there- so was Miss Cabrera, and Elliott and Trooper Wagner, we have four witnesses!”

“But no proof.” Stephanie shrugged, “Listen, I don’t know the guy, I was hired by his father. I just went off of what he told me and the evidence you gave me.”

“What a fucking disaster.” Phil mumbled, looking over to his terrified wife. “Elizabeth.” He reached out and grabbed her arms as she looked around nervously, “You’re going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” She whispered and he looked over his wife’s shoulder to Blanc.

“Can you take her somewhere safe while we get this all sorted out?” Phil asked and Lizzie looked over her shoulder hopefully at the detective.

“Come with me.” Blanc told her as she kissed Phil goodbye before following him out the doors. He led Elizabeth toward a silver SUV around the back of the building near all the police cruisers. Blanc unlocked it before opening the passenger’s door for Lizzie.

He helped her step in and when she sat she rustled through her purse frantically before huffing, “I think I forgot my phone. Could you grab it for me please?”

“Stay here.” He warned, looking around, “I will be right back. Do not unlock the door for anybody, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth breathed, grabbing her stomach protectively. “Please be quick.”

Blanc took off toward the back door of the courthouse where they’d come from, but Elizabeth shook as she looked around the vehicle, finally opening up the glove compartment. She rifled through some papers and found what she hoped the detective had hiding.

Elizabeth steadied her breathing, holding the gun with shaking hands as she looked in the side mirror to see someone approaching. She lowered her hands, keeping her weapon hidden unless she absolutely needed it.

Meanwhile, Blanc hustled into the courtroom and scurried past Stephanie, who was packing up her papers when Richard Drysdale approached her.

“That was phenomenal. You were worth every penny!” Richard applauded and she lifted her head slightly to smile at him. He cleared his throat and straightened up, “I’ll have the rest of your money for you this week. I just need Ransom to sell some more of his stuff and I’m working out a loan with an old friend of mine.”

Stephanie stood fully at this, smiling at Richard diplomatically, “No need Mr. Drysdale. Your bill has been paid in full.”

Richard scrunched his brows at this, and Blanc paused to listen in, “Really? By who? Was it my wife?”

“No sir, it was not your wife. However, that is all I can say. I was asked to keep the benefactor anonymous. I hope you can respect their wishes and just be thankful I got your son out of prison. For now.” Stephanie wrinkled her nose, closing her briefcase with a snap.

She moved away from Richard and shoved her hand out to Phillip, “It was a good round. I hope to see you in court again someday.” Stephanie teased but Phillip did not share her feelings.

“Perhaps. I still think there was foul play at work.” Phil snarled and Stephanie just shrugged.

“I followed every procedure Mr. Stevens. If your evidence was tampered with, it was before I received it. As I said, I’d be happy to prove that to you.” Phillip shook his head, accepting defeat, so Stephanie gave a firm nod and turned to walk away. When she was halfway out of the courtroom, she turned and called to Phillip, “I will say though, after meeting both of you today, Lizzie definitely made the right choice.”

Before Phillip could ask how she knew Elizabeth, the lawyer was already walking away, only pausing next to the Thrombeys to address Meg’s confused gaze, “Nice to see you again, Meg.” She said simply as she continued out the door.

Blanc watched her go, then turned his head to look down at the bench thoughtfully. He saw Elizabeth’s phone and picked it up, curiously clicking the side to bring the phone to life.

To Blanc’s surprise, the phone unlocked itself and greeted him with a simple phrase: Transfer Complete. He looked over to Alan, who was hovering near Marta and trying to calm his disappointing son. “Mr. Stevens, did you happen to notice your daughter-in-law doing anything odd during the trial did you?”

“No. She was acting perfectly normal.” He explained quickly, looking at the phone in Blanc’s hand. Phil followed his father’s gaze and grabbed the phone from Blanc’s hands as Meg approached them urgently.

“Detective, I know the defense lawyer.” Meg rambled as Marta came around to put her arms around the girl, “She was Lizzie’s roommate.”

“Why the hell is my wife’s phone wiped?” Phil asked the group and Blanc looked back over his shoulder toward the back door then burst into a run.

“Oh no. No no no!” He yelled as Phil and Marta took off running after him, catching the attention of the Thrombey family in the back of the courthouse.

As Benoit Blanc pushed open the back door, he was greeted by a gunshot and the sound of squealing tires. He looked around, seeing a police cruiser taking off down the road with its sirens on. He pointed toward his van, “Get in the van!” He yelled at Marta and she obliged, leaving Phil behind to trot after them slowly, unable to keep up.

Phillip reached Blanc’s SUV as he tried and failed to turn over the engine. “Where the hell is my wife? I thought she was with you?”

“Look!” Marta pointed under the steering wheel. Benoit followed her gaze to a snapped wire, cut through with some sort of clippers.

He looked up at Phil with frustrated eyes, breathing heavily as he looked after the car, “Mr. Stevens,” He panted, knowing exactly what had happened, “I regret to inform you that your wife is gone.” Blanc looked up as several other cop cars went chasing after the first one, but he noted several offices helping up a man from the ground and staring at a cruiser with its front tire shot out. “She played us Mr. Stevens. Your wife manipulated every single one of us.”

Two hours later, Blanc, Detective Elliott, and Trooper Wagner stood in the doorway of Phil Stevens’ office as he read the note he found on his desk. His hand was shaking as he set down the paper and looked to the men, “She’s left with him.” He picked up the massive rock Elizabeth had sported and chucked it at the wall angrily, “She already signed all the divorce papers. All I have to do is file them.”

“You don’t have to. If you don’t sign the papers, she’s legally still your wife and you can work out the custody battle when we find her.” Elliott said quietly, but Phil shook his head, dismissing the idea.

“No. I’ll sign them. She took off with a fucking murderer, I don’t want to be married to a psychotic whore.” Phil rubbed his face roughly, “I just want my kid back. I don’t trust either of them with my son.”

Blanc sighed and wandered into the office, picking up the letter and the divorce papers. From the heap of documents, a sonogram fell onto the desk. Blanc picked it up, studying the circled date and a scrawling cursive note on the bottom. “Apparently it’s a girl.” He said, handing Phil the photo. He looked at it sadly, and Blanc added, “How far along is she?”

“Seven months. We got pregnant near the end of October.” Phil explained wistfully and Blanc pointed to the top left.

“Then why did the doctor say she’s eight months along?” Blanc asked and Phil looked up at him questioningly before looking at the sonogram again. He fell into his chair as he ran his hand over his thinning hair. “Mr. Stevens, your wife admitted to me that she found out she was pregnant the third week of October. She was already three weeks along.”

Phil swallowed as Trooper Wagner’s mouth dropped and he looked to Elliott in wonderment. Phil pointed at the sonogram with a quivering lip, “You’re telling me... this isn’t my kid?”

“No. I am afraid it is not. Your wife had a tryst with Mr. Dysdale the night before your wedding which resulted in her pregnancy. Unfortunately, even if you decide not to divorce your wife, you have no rights over that child.”

“He tampered with the evidence-”

“Your wife tampered with the evidence” Detective Elliot interjected. “And she hired Ransom’s lawyer. She also knocked out a police officer, stole Blanc’s gun, and stole a police cruiser... Ransom did nothing wrong, and the mistrial was fair based on the evidence presented. As awful as it sounds, Ransom Drysdale is now innocent, it is your wife who broke the law.” Phil blew angrily out of his nose.

He picked up a pen and signed the divorce papers, initialing and signing every line without a word. When he reached the end he picked up the sonogram and ripped it in half, then turned to Blanc, “I don’t care what happens to her now. She has nothing to her name, no family to come back to. Elizabeth can rot in hell for all I care, they deserve each other....I guess I dodged a bullet.”

Phil wiggled his desktop mouse, bringing the computer to life. He looked up at the men, then barked, “You can leave now. It’s over.”

Blanc nodded and led the way out of the office, not even pausing when he heard Phil yell, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Benny, we’re gonna have to go after her.” Lieutenant Elliott said quietly as they reached their squad car.

Blanc just nodded, pursing his lips, “Good luck with that officer. I would rather enjoy leaving the Thrombey clan and their drama behind me.”

[protectorsofthewood]

Abby and Wendy - Episode 38

THE STUDENTS AGAINST FOSSIL FUELS EVENT

Lluvia woke Phoebe and Abby at 7:15am. “Alex went out for breakfast treats,” she said. “He’s really trying to please you. We’re both hoping to see more of you.”

In ten minutes, the group crowded around the kitchen table, pouring coffee and eating bagels and egg salad, with sliced apples on the side. Isaiah seemed happy, looking forward to meeting Sharon on the River Queen at 10am.

Alex barely ate or talked at all, spending all his time sending and receiving messages. “I promised Sara and Amy we’ll meet them at Hamilton Hall twenty minutes. They want to have a meeting around the STAFF table on that hill overlooking the entrance. People are hyper.” The group hurried through their breakfast, gulped their coffee, and gave Isaiah hugs and encouragement. Alex was still answering texts. “It looks like the rain will hold off until evening,” he said. “Come on, let’s do this.”

A cool wind was blowing on a gray, overcast day. They hurried across the campus to a building far from the dormitories. A wide lawn and flower gardens surrounded this formal old building that used to be the university president’s mansion. Evansville College was about a hundred and fifty years old. Alex was taking his role as an activist and their host very seriously. He’s doing it all to impress Lluvia, thought Abby.Well, more power to them. I think I’m jealous.

They walked up a long path on rising ground, and suddenly found themselves on a small hill with a wide view of Hamilton Hall and the river beyond. Part way down the hill a convenient level spot was bustling with a crowd drinking coffee around a folding table. Students were talking, texting, and calling friends to get them out of bed. When they noticed Lluvia, Abby, Phoebe, and Alex everyone turned to stare. Phones disappeared. Sara called to them, and made introductions as they arrived.

“I know we all have questions for our guests,” she said. “We’d love to chat, but let’s put that off until after the event. We have details to cover... As I was saying, we’ll have five campus security to help us. Most of you know Little John, who will be the boss.” Sara turned to Abby, Phoebe, and Lluvia. “That’s John Little, head of security. He’s big and strong and in charge, so his presence should be enough to stop any disruptions. Sorry to say this over again, but our responsibility today is to actually have a discussion and make sure people can be heard and understood. So, we don’t want signs, chanting, and nasty comments. Please, point out disrupters to security, and they will do their job. We need this crowd to hear what the trustees are saying. If no one hears them, Professor Richardson’s reply will make no sense. Our goal is to become a part of the decision-making process. That will take winning the respect of the crowd, and the wide world through the press and social media. Any questions?”

Students and faculty had been arriving as Sara spoke. Reporters had come early and taken the space in front. A WBCS crew set up video cameras and sound equipment. Abby noticed older men in suits passing by a security guard into Hamilton Hall.

Alex spoke up. “After what you’ve said, I feel a bit guilty seeing our banner with my print hanging between those two trees. Shouldn’t we all avoid signs?”

“We’re sponsoring this event,” Sara replied. “We’ll answer questions, we have a first aid kit, we’ll be able to assign security. So, people need to know who we are and where we are.”

“Got it.”

Sara turned to Abby. “Having you here today is both an advantage and a disadvantage. I’m sure your presence will be noticed. People will want to talk to you, and some may want you to address the crowd... What would you like to do?”

Abby was sure of her answer. “I just want to be here and listen. I will not address the crowd or give interviews.”

“Good, very wise. I’m assigning Little John to stay with you as much as possible. Stand close to your friends, and be firm. Okay, it’s... almost 8:45. I see Professor Richardson and his colleagues over there. I’ll have to speak to them. Sometime soon I’ll have to open the event and introduce Jay Wellington, Dean of Students. Other questions?”

“What happened to Amy?” someone asked. “I don’t see her.”

“I’m not sure, but you know she always has a good reason for what she does... anything else? Well, talk to each other, feel free to bring up any questions later. There’ll be no rain, don’t worry. Give me your hand! Thanks everyone!” They all clustered together and slapped hands held high in the air like a sports team before the game.

Two students arrived with fresh coffee, apples, and bananas. Another arrived with bagels. The table became crowded. Time went by. STAFF members combed the area, reminding people to pick up any debris from their surroundings. After half an hour the crowd began to separate off into small groups. Some students were looking impatiently at the time, checking their email, texting, talking on their phones. A few were hurrying off to other appointments.

Sara sent her staff around promising a surprise in a few minutes. Ishmael, George, and Eddy carried instruments down to the stage, moved a few chairs aside, and set up a small amplifier. George tried out the microphone set up behind the podium. It was already turned on, clearly intended for the trustees to use when they were ready to explain their decisions.

The band made themselves at home and began to tune up. Students jostled for seats near the stage, and got back on their phones to call their friends. Sara appeared on the stage to say a few words.

“Friends, students, and faculty! We’ve been preparing for this event since last spring. Let’s not lose patience. We are determined to see this dialogue take place, right here, today. We’ll wait as long as necessary. Please remember, we’ve been hoping for years, decades, to see any progress on the climate crisis, species extinction, and the related issues that threaten the future of our world. So, stay right here and support our right to influence where the trustees invest our money. Do we want Evansville College to be dependent on an income that contributes to the destruction of our future?”

The crowd roared. Sara had caught their attention.

“And to make this waiting-time special for all of you, we have three members of the Thunder Rolling Band to play new songs, music you’ll be hearing for the first time.”

People clapped and cheered. Sara left the stage and Ishmael and George moved close together at the mike. Ishmael – smiling and waving to friends in the audience – said: “It’s great to be here! George and I just finished this song last week. This gathering today – and all our efforts – are small steps to deal with the global emergency. We wrote this song with that in mind. It’s called, We All Know Why.”

George played the chords, and Eddy found the rhythm on the conga drums. Ishmael joined in with a harsh, jabbing lead guitar solo. George began to sing:

We live near a river that goes roaring by It’s in our streets and houses, sometimes people die Things have changed around here, things have changed, Do you know why? You think our children gonna live here? You oughta hear them cry

Our family’s on a farm that’s generations old You know we’re proud to be here for a hundred years I’m told But now it’s strange, it never rains Do you know why? You think our children gonna live here? Well you oughta hear them cry

Fishing for a living’s not an easy job I know We’ve been working at it for a century or more But now the fish are gone, they’re all gone Do you know why? You think our children gonna live here Well you oughta hear them cry

This used to be a quiet town till the wild fires came Everyone is homeless now, we all feel the pain Everything’s changed, it’s strange Do you know why?

You think our children gonna live here Don’t you hear them cry?

All over the world it’s been happening slow But now it’s on our doorstep and everywhere we go The slow death coming, it’s coming And we all know why Where you think our children gonna live now? Don’t you hear their cries? Hear their cries All over the world, hear their cries

During the song the huge double doors opened just a few feet, and out stepped a pale thin man in a dark suit. He looked over the crowd, listened for thirty seconds or so, and retreated back inside. Meanwhile the song ended. The audience was silent for a moment and then shouted for more. The band spoke a few words together, and George played a chord. Suddenly the doors opened wide. A handsome man in his thirties, wearing jeans and a brown sport jacket, quickly approached the microphone. Ishmael and George stepped aside. Eddy carried his drums off the stage.

The man gave a broad smile, thanked the band, and nodded to the audience. “Hello students, faculty, and guests! Most of you know me, I’m Jay Wellington, Dean of Students. Sorry for the delay.” He smiled again at the very large crowd, which had been growing over the past twenty minutes. “The trustees have asked me to make a request. It’s just a suggestion that might help us understand each other and work together. We realize that a discussion with so many people will be almost impossible, so we’re inviting one or two of you to speak to the board inside, and then report the substance of the conversation back to all of you. Perhaps one student and one faculty member would be appropriate? Sara, I know your group is sponsoring this... event? Rally? Perhaps you can choose a faculty member to accompany you to the discussion?”

Sara walked up to the microphone. Jay Wellington held his ground in front of the mike, forcing Sara to nudge him to the side. She stood so that she could address him and the audience at the same time.

She spoke slowly and clearly to absolute silence. “Jay, thanks for inviting me. We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well in the four meetings that were necessary to plan this... gathering. We call it a ‘gathering’ of students, faculty, and trustees. You’ll recall that we specifically planned to have a public... a public conversation that could be understood by anyone wishing to attend. Of course, we don’t expect our audience to all enter the discussion. But we did agree that they should be able to hear it and make their own judgement on the issues we are trying to resolve. We agreed that at least the executive committee of the trustees would actually appear and publicly announce their position. Then a faculty member and a student would have a chance to reply, followed by an opportunity for questions. Also, the trustees promised to hand out a written summary of their position. Hopefully we’ll see that before the meeting is over.”

Jay Wellington stepped away from the mike, motioning to Sara to have a few words on the side. But Sara held her ground, refusing a private conversation. The Dean returned to the mike, but had lost his smiling, affable manner. He couldn’t keep a note of anger out of his voice.

“I’m sorry you’re being so difficult. You know I’ve been doing my best to reconcile these very different... sometimes conflicting interests and goals. In situations like this a compromise may be the best we can do.”

As he paused there was an undertone of whispers and a shaking of heads from the audience. One voice shouted, “Let me get this straight. Who’s being difficult?”

Sara immediately chided her audience, reminding everyone of their commitment to civility and mutual respect. In the silence that followed Jay Wellington gave a weary sigh and shook his head. “I’ll do my best,” he said, but his voice implied a sense of hopelessness. He walked off.

Meanwhile Abby struggled with her own fears and conflicts. She longed to find a way to greet George and hopefully talk to him at least a little bit. Her intuition told her it would be nice for both of them. But she noticed people watching her, pointing, and making comments that she couldn’t quite hear. Fearing it was all in her mind, she was overjoyed when Little John, over six and a half feet tall and very formidable in his campus security uniform, moved over and stood next to her.

“Better stay with me,” he whispered.

She gave a sigh of relief. But still... she thought. It’s not just the crowd. There’s muttering like what I heard underground. Wendy warned me not to follow it... but why am I hearing it now, so far from the tunnels under Hidden Valley? I’ve got to get my mind off this!

But every time the Dean of Students spoke she could hear vague murmuring in the background, like a multitude of lost souls. I can’t take this! I’ve got to get out of here. The throng pressed in upon her as more and more people arrived, moving forward to hear what promised to be very riveting theater. Little John seemed to sense her nervousness, and patted her on the shoulder.

“Weird people arriving, but don’t worry,” he said. “I can handle it.” He held an oversize phone in his hand and occasionally spoke, giving instructions. Abby heard him say, “Yeah, send extras. Looks like something’s developing... Not sure, we’ll see.”

Her agony increased as the crowd waited for the next act. Finally, two security guards pulled open the enormous double doors, and four trustees in dark suits made their entrance. They barely glanced at the audience as they took seats behind the podium. Jay Wellington introduced them, but the murmuring inside Abby’s mind had become so loud that she couldn’t concentrate on their names. The Dean of Students stepped off the stage and began to talk to a group of professors that included Roberto Richardson.

The pale thin man rose and slowly seemed to float over to the mike. It was hard for Abby to guess his age. His thin hair seemed colorless. His features had no expression, manifested no emotion. His voice was flat, but his dark eyes darted around like little animals with a life of their own.

“I’m Bill Sandman, chair of our fiduciary committee. It’s our job to evaluate our investments and financial commitments, and do our best to fulfill the needs of Evansville College as presented to us by the administration and our executive chairman. Naturally, the financial security of the college is our highest priority.”

He paused, as if he expected some comment. “...our highest priority,” he went on. “My task is to make sure that we are faithful to the interests of this college. We cannot cede this responsibility to anyone. While we welcome the opportunity to listen to the ideas and recommendations of students and faculty, it remains our job, and our job alone, to make decisions to increase the endowment of Evansville College. But within those strict constraints there is some flexibility. I think you’ll find that Donald Irving, our investment advisor, can present opportunities for us to work together.”

No one clapped, or made any noise at all. People looked around as if confused or disoriented. Then a younger, more expensively dressed man rose from among the seated trustees, and walked confidently up to the microphone. He glanced at his watch and nodded to the crowd. “As Bill said, my area of expertise is the evaluation of our investments and the need, at times, to make changes. We have a substantial endowment, but our yearly expenses grow rapidly. We must be careful to generate an income that increases every year. Our scholarship fund, the salaries of our faculty, the maintenance of our physical plant, and the necessity of building dormitories as our college expands... I’m sure you can understand that fulfilling all these needs is not an easy task.

“I want you to know that we do consider environmental and moral issues when we invest. We already have restricted ourselves from new investments in fossil fuel corporations, as well as many enterprises with negative social impacts, such as the manufacture of assault rifles. Our annual report is available to the public for each year that passes. I must say we are proud of our strategies and our outcomes. After hearing from a faculty member and a student, I’ll be happy to take any questions, and hope we can share ideas for the benefit of all stakeholders in Evansville College.”

Bill Sandman walked over and joined his colleague at the mike. “Thank you, Donald, for all your help and years of service. Perhaps this would be a good moment to hear from a faculty member.” He nodded in to the group of professors and other staff. People in the crowd looked at each other in bewilderment, unable to believe that what they had heard was all that the trustees were offering. But Donald Irving took a seat, as Roberto Richardson said a few words to his colleagues. Then he spoke to George, who gave him a microphone attached to the amplifier used by the band.

“Please,” he said. “Bill or Donald, come back to the microphone. Let’s speak together and try to clarify this complicated subject. Hopefully we’ll make some progress.” The trustees hesitated and spoke in low undertones.

I can’t stand this! Abby was in a panic. What am I going to do? The murmuring and jabbering had grown louder, and become a wave of incomprehensible gibberish. She couldn’t tell what noise was coming from the audience and what was in her mind.

I’ve got to get out of here!

Donald Irving walked back to the mike, and Roberto joined him on the stage. “I understand that this is a confusing subject,” said Roberto in his most gentle manner. “I hope we can find a place to begin that we all agree on. I suggest that there are both objective facts and moral obligations facing all of us here at Evansville College. Let’s try to agree on these facts and obligations, and proceed from there.”

Roberto waited, as Donald Irving surveyed the crowd anxiously and looked at the trustees on either side of him and then at his audience. He gave a reply in a halting, uneven voice, full of long pauses:

“I think... we’ve already presented... the relevant facts and obligations. Our responsibilities and obligations to the needs of the college define this whole discussion. But perhaps... if there are questions... then...”

Roberto interrupted during another long pause. “Yes, thank you, we do have many questions. For example: Do you agree that the recent findings of the United Nations Intragovernmental Panel on Climate Change qualify as facts? If so, I hope we can agree that these findings create moral obligations for all of us.”

Donald Irving shook his head in frustration. “This line of questioning is really out of bounds. I have no expertise in science. It would be presumptuous, outside of my professional competence, to make a judgement on these findings. Any serious changes in our criteria to evaluate investments would have to come from the college president and the executive board.”

“Then perhaps we are speaking to the wrong people today. Are you saying that the climate crisis has no bearing on investments? Surely you will be examining the trends in energy technology in order to estimate future growth and returns on investment.”

“Yes, of course.” Donald was looking nervously at the trustees seated on both sides of the podium. Abby felt that he wanted one of his colleagues to rescue him from this loathsome predicament. “As I told you,” he continued, “we’ve already made a commitment to avoid further investments in fossil fuel corporations.”

“I understand. Was this commitment made for financial or ethical reasons?”

“Professor Richardson. I’m not here to be interrogated. I think the trustees have made their position quite clear. It’s time for you, representing students and faculty, to make your position clear.”

“Believe me,” the professor replied, “I understand that this is a stressful subject for all of us. I’m happy to change gears and speak directly to the audience. Thank you for your patience with my questions.”

Donald Irving nodded and sat in the row of chairs flanking the podium.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Roberto, “I want to thank all of you for your patience as well. I’ll present our position as briefly as I can.”

Staff and security were struggling to keep the audience quiet, as people tried to move around and talk to friends. Abby was aware that both students and adults were trying to approach her. Little John had engaged two other security guards to shield Abby. Lluvia and Phoebe politely but stubbornly warded off intruders. Feeling her heart beating and her breathing becoming a pant, she looked at the ground and met no one’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Roberto began his statement. “It’s very difficult for a complex community like Evansville College to make important decisions together when the participants are starting from different premises. The overwhelming majority of the students and faculty do accept the reports from the United Nations panel as facts and dire warnings. There is agreement among our most prominent scientific leaders that we have slightly more than ten years to make major changes in our global carbon footprint. If we fail at this task, irreversible changes will impact our globe, and change life on earth in devastating ways. I realize that there is a small minority who disagree, but if many doctors say that you have a dread disease and must make changes, and another doctor disagrees, you’ll probably make the changes to be on the safe side. And here the stakes are not just one person, not just one species, but all life on earth.”

The professor paused. The audience had become silent. No one moved.

“These scientific reports really exist. The research is real. The scientific community is real. We ignore them at our peril. These are facts. Now I’ll try to outline the moral issues. Here the discussion enters an area you can call spiritual, or religious. For example, there are social justice issues because – so far – climate change impacts poor countries and communities more than wealthy ones. The wealthy have a moral obligation to change this cruel and unfair crisis, and... they have the means to do so. Our various religions have strong words about our willingness – or lack thereof – to help those who suffer. Do the spiritual traditions of humanity matter? We ignore them at our peril.”

The audience clapped and cheered. Bill Sandman rose and spoke in Roberto’s ear. The professor stared off into the distance for a moment, and then said: “Bill tells me we’re running out of time. I don’t want to take any time that should be given to a speaker from the student body, so I’ll sum up our position. It is universally acknowledged that humans have created technology and power that can destroy all life. Do we have a moral obligation to life on earth? Do we have a moral obligation to the generations of humans, and of all species, waiting to be born? I believe we do. This moral and spiritual commitment must become the starting point for any discussion of investments, politics, and the decision-making process of any reputable organization, corporation, government, or institution. This is a universal challenge, affecting the way we live. It must be the first priority. After the collapse of civilization, what will our loyalty to Evansville College be worth?”

The audience cheered and clapped. In great agitation, Donald Irving rose and elbowed Roberto away from the mike. “I’m sorry, but I must bring some common sense to this dialogue. We also have an ethical obligation – right now, at this moment – to heat people’s homes, run a transportation system, put food on the table, run a university! All our myriad obligations do not disappear like magic because of a United Nations report. For example, our environmental groups on campus want to ban fracking. But we heat our dormitories and classrooms with fracked gas! And we have no solutions in place to banish fossil fuels, and will not have solutions for three decades at a minimum.”

“May I reply?” asked Roberto in a mild, very calm voice. “Yes, please do, if you can.”

“For the sake of discussion, let’s assume it will take three decades to become carbon free. No one is proposing banishing all fossil fuels tomorrow. We are proposing a path toward running our whole economy on renewable fuels. There are many options already in use that can be quickly expanded under the right conditions. Wind, solar, geothermal, and biogas come to mind immediately. We also need major changes in agricultural methods, and we need to expand forests and wild areas.”

Roberto looked over the audience. He seemed to stand up taller, and raised his voice: “We must begin to do these things now. We have wasted decades, and now we face an emergency. Let’s look at biogas for a minute. We know we can make fuel from organic waste, fuel that can substitute for fracked gas in important ways. Landfills of organic waste have a large carbon footprint because they emit methane into the atmosphere. We can take all that organic waste and make biogas and compost. It’s being done all over the world. Right now we pay to landfill the organic waste, and we allow the valuable methane to escape. We have the knowledge and expertise to do better. Why not invest in that?”

Roberto turned to the trustees to his right and left. “I’ve read the annual report of Evansville College. I estimate that about twenty percent of the endowment is invested in corporations that make money directly from mining and selling fossil fuels, and there are many more with an indirect relationship to fossil fuels. Why not sell those stocks and reinvest in renewable energy?”

Donald Irving eagerly took the mike. “Do you know,” he asked, “what would happen if all universities and pension funds followed your advice? I’m sure most of you have no idea. Such a policy would destroy our infrastructure. I would be fired for doing anything so stupid.”

“Okay... then as I understand it...” Roberto spoke softly, without hostility, “all the hundreds of endowments and pension funds that have already disinvested from the fossil fuel industry, or are doing so gradually, should already have bankrupted our country, even the whole globe. But that is not happening. Why do you think that is?”

Bill Sandman hurried to the mike again. In his flat voice, conveying no feeling at all, he said: “Thank you very much, Professor Richardson. We’re grateful for your ideas and suggestions. And now its time to hear from a student.”

The crowd was shocked. The trustee’s dismissal of Professor Richardson, a popular and respected faculty member, was unexpected and rude. But Sandman’s tone of voice was so void of any emotional cues that it was almost hypnotic. No one knew how to react. Abby struggled again with the endless sound of muttering, as if a million Bill Sandman’s were speaking.

Conversations broke out among small groups. The crowd expected Sara to take the stage, but the seconds flew by. Abby began to hear her own name, a sort of chant that grew in volume, and continued to grow until she fell into a major panic. She became aware of an argument between Little John and a woman. Turning her head, she saw Zoe pleading with Little John.

“Let me hear her,” Abby told him. “She’s with us!” Little John let her approach.

“It’s that Jerry Norris and a bunch of hired hands,” whispered Zoe. “They’re trying to create a mess, or make you look bad, or something. End this delay. Do something fast!”

Suddenly Sara joined them and said, “Abby, I’ve changed my mind. Please, go on stage and say something. You must, or we’ll have chaos. Just thank the crowd, tell them about the STAFF meeting tomorrow night in the student center. Thank Roberto. Even our friends are caught up in this outburst. You can’t walk out now, and I can’t fill your shoes. They want to see you.”

Abby put her face in her hands.

Sara leaned over and spoke in Abby’s ear. “This crowd is angry at the way the meeting is ending. They’re hoping for some inspiration. Come on, we’ll both go on stage.”

Abby had an idea. “Little John, Lluvia, wait for me right at those giant doors. After I speak we’ll escape through Hamilton Hall.”

Little John nodded. Abby rose and stepped up onto the stage. Sara took the mike and said, “We’re honored to welcome Abby Chapman to Evansville College, and to our student group. We hope to see her more often, and hope to visit her groups in Middletown and Rivergate.”

Sara looked at Abby.

A long round of applause rang out. Students raised their cell phones at arms length and snapped pictures. Oh, help me... thought Abby. I have no idea what I’m doing! She looked out on the vast crowd and saw friendly faces. The atmosphere became warm and welcoming. She found a few words that felt right.

“I’ve been wanting to come here for weeks.” Her voice rang out over the crowd, and all were silent. “So many here in Evansville have welcomed us, and we feel at home among you. And we’re eager to join you in events to come. I’m thinking particularly of the climate change conferences coming up in River City. I love it that we’re all living along the river, and I’ve dreamed of creating an armada of boats to travel to River City for the United Nations conferences. So, I hope we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. To the reporters and media people out there, I apologize for not granting interviews, but I’ve been overwhelmed and just need to be quiet for a while and stay with friends. We have others here today to represent Middletown and Rivergate.”

The crowd clapped and cheered. This was just the sort of thing they needed.

“So...” Abby continued, “our gratitude to all of you, and especially to Professor Richardson, STAFF members, the Thunder Rolling Band, and the trustees, for having the courage to work together and begin this conversation. I have just one request: Please continue this dialogue. I say this to all of you: Don’t give up. Remember: We’re all relatives.”

She bowed her head to thunderous applause, and then turned and joined Little John and Lluvia at the doorway. He escorted them inside and past the security guards. They hurried down a long hall paneled with dark wood.

Abby felt very secure with Lluvia and Little John. He clearly knew where he was going and what he wanted to do. Luvia was calm and seemed to be enjoying herself. They passed by a wide door that opened onto a large conference room. Paintings lined the walls. A well-dressed group including the trustees were talking and sampling an assortment of breakfast food on an enormous oval table. Abby glanced in and met the eyes of two women. Both were trustees of the United Church of Middletown. They froze in shock for a moment.

“Come on, come on!” hissed Lluvia. Abby tore herself away. They ran down the hall to catch up with Little John.

“Don’t stop like that,” he whispered.

They quickly descended two flights of stairs to a bare basement. He waited for them and asked, “Where do you want to go?”

Lluvia explained the way to Alex’s house. Little John unlocked a little used door and stepped outside. “The coast is clear,” he said.

He led them on small paths screened by trees, and soon they were off campus.

“Where are we?” Luvia asked.

“Let’s hurry,” he replied. “They might know about your house. Do you have the key?”

“No, but somebody might be there. If we’re locked out we’ll go straight to the dock. We’ll leave by boat.”

“Got it. I’ll keep anyone from following you right away by boat.”

Abby recognized the row of small brick houses. In a moment they rang Alex’s bell. He opened the door, they entered, and he closed it immediately. “They’re staked out in the archway across the street. What are you going to do?”

“Alex, this is Little John. He’ll escort us to Lluvia’s boat.”

“Ah! Excellent. Here’s your backpacks.” He looked at Abby. “I put something extra in yours.” He looked back at Lluvia and gave her a long hug. “Next Saturday,” he said. “Please come.”

She nodded happily.

“Come on,” Alex told them. They went out the back door, into a nearby yard, and came out on a back alley. Alex waved as the three fugitives continued almost at a run. In what seemed like no time at all they came out on the docks. Lluvia’s boat was now low in the water at low tide. She climbed down and started the electric motor. Soon they were quietly making their way upstream. Little John waved and gave them a thumbs up sign. They blew him kisses.

The Protectors of the Wood Eco-Fiction Adventure Series is an illustrated story of a group of teenagers who save the world from climate change. The themes include the power of relationships, realizing leadership, good versus evil, and the coming of age.

These teenagers find out who they are while dealing with the climate emergency and the conflicts that surround them in Middletown. The two main characters, Phoebe and Abby, work together to find solutions within their communities. 

The story begins with Phoebe coming home from college and discovering shocking changes threatening Middletown. A gigantic corporation threatens to destroy the land, legends, and heritage of her family and friends.

Phoebe and Abby unravel the secrets in their small town, and realize that they are all connected to a global conflict. They feel that all their hopes are in danger of being lost. They discover that they have the unique gift of seeing visions through DreamStone, a gem found deep under the vast forest preserve.

While searching for the secrets of DreamStone and their identities, Phoebe and Abby risk their lives to save the beautiful world around them called home.

#Environmentalism #teenagers #live music #protectorsofthewood #novels

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Welcome to Nashville: Music City Traditions For The Tourist

If you’ve ever planned on heading to Nashville, Tennessee and wondered what it would be like to have someone show you around to all the hot spots, wonder no more! The Country Music Capital of the World boasts many sights, sounds and southern comfort dining, leaving you satisfied from the stomach to the soul. 

Ready for your trip to Music City? Here’s a hearty overview of the town, sprinkling in both new and old favorites (some of which are sometimes overlooked).

1) The Texas Troubadour Theatre

The theatre is named for one of country music’s most iconic classic artists, Ernest Tubb (also known as the “Texas Troubadour”). You’ll find it in the historic “Music Valley Village” area off the pedal-tavern-beaten-path of downtown Nashville on Music Valley Drive, with mainstays such as the Grand Ole Opry House, The Gaylord Opryland Resort and The Nashville Palace only a short distance away. This prestigious venue is built to welcome at least 400 people to its pews and is home to numerous musical events including the unique worship of Nashville Cowboy Church every Sunday morning.

But before Sunday morning, there’s Saturday night... and with it is the must-attend music hour of the Midnite Jamboree. Having been on the broadcast airwaves since May of 1947, the Jamboree is the second-longest running radio show in history (second only to the Grand Ole Opry)! A different guest performer plays every Saturday night at 10PM in the theatre and the public is always invited to watch...for FREE!

And akin to Opry tradition, there is an announcer for each show (usually a WSM air personality) who stands behind a podium to give details of music available for purchase. The show is then broadcast at midnight the same evening on the legendary 650 AM-WSM (home to the Opry); so you might even hear yourself on the radio. David Ball, Collin Raye, “bluegrass queen” Rhonda Vincent, Riders in the Sky (an Opry favorite), Mark Wills, John Conlee, Jeannie Seely and many more notables have graced the Troubadour’s stage to join in the Jamboree. Concessions are available and the parking is free.

2) The Tacky Turtle

Located next to and adjoining the Troubadour Theatre is The Tacky Turtle. Actually, this shop offers just the right amount of tackiness – featuring eclectic home décor and souvenir items from over 30 vendors, a small selection of CD’s from featured artists and some unbelievably tasty cinnamon rolls. Ernest Tubb’s tour bus from the years of 1970-1979 is on display here and open for free walk-throughs. There is also live music several nights a week and the employees are always very welcoming. Check out the stores Facebook page HERE!

3) The Nashville Palace

The Palace is a great place to soak in the music scene. You’ll likely be greeted with live music immediately upon entry, because the venue offers separate stage areas. The first room has various bands playing throughout the day and typically it’s free to enjoy. Meanwhile, the dancehall feel of the main space (where lots of larger concerts take place) and restaurant/bar makes it appealing to many visitors and offers up a rich history (some of which still adorns its walls). A big claim to fame for the Palace is that Randy Travis once worked there as a cook.

Locals Tip: If you’re in the market for the music but the Palace is a little too full of “royal subjects” you might want to wander across the street and give The Music City Bar and Grill a go. They offer free live music from exceptional artists 7 days a week and their kitchen is open until 2:30AM.

Check out the venue’s official website HERE!

4) The Ernest Tubb Record Shop

Give your regards to Broadway: Downtown’s “honkytonk row” of Broadway is no stranger to the fame. In recent years numerous music stars have built up the street with their namesake multiple-story bars. And it’s the home of historic honky-tonk Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. However, it’s also home to the Ernest Tubb Record Shop. Established in 1947, the shop’s sign boasts “real country music lives here,” you can still visit the vintage store’s only remaining location and walk the floor among their one-of-a-kind selection of vinyl, souvenirs, books, songbooks and more.

Check out the the Record Shop’s official website HERE!

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5) Mike’s Ice Cream and Coffee Bar

Just a few doors down from The Ernest Tubb Record Shop is a true cherry on top. Mike’s Ice Cream and Coffee Bar is a staple sweet spot for anyone looking to cool off and re-energize before taking on more Music City entertainment. Nashville “hot chicken” may often steal the spotlight in the city’s featured foods department and with good reason, but when it comes to tastes that never go out of style, Mike’s is a safe bet. Open until at least 11PM every night (midnight in the summer season and on Fridays and Saturdays otherwise), the menu features homemade ice cream plus an impressive variety of homemade fountain sodas, milkshakes, and a wide selection of hot, iced and frozen gourmet espresso and coffee drinks.

Check out the shop’s Facebook page HERE!

6) The Ryman Auditorium

Time for church! The famed so-called “Mother Church” of country music has and continues to host many a sell-out shows within its stained-glass auditorium walls. Still, there’s more for you to know. For example, posters autographed by performers who’ve played the Ryman are on display in the Hatch Show Print Galleryon the second floor of the auditorium. From show slots boasting acts from everyone to comedians to awards shows and in-between, it’s the original home of the Grand Ole Opry and today takes that history to a new level with tours, a gift shop, and its own cafe (Cafe’ Lula, named to honor a longtime Ryman manager) which is usually open later on show nights.

But the Ryman fun doesn’t end there. Some true music to the ears of the secret singer inside of you might be that (for an extra fee) the Ryman provides the chance to record your own song at their in-house recording studio! Choose from a list of 19 special songs including classics like Conway Twitty’s “Hello Darlin’” or record your own original music. Some instruments are allowed, too; plus the studio will provide an in-house acoustic guitar.

Check HERE for details. 

7) The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum

Trek on down the road from the Ryman and you can’t help but to see and hear the illustrious call of the Hall, where you’ll be surrounded by everything gone country of both past and present. Called “the Smithsonian of the country music world”; songwriter sessions happen regularly here. Exhibits showcase one-of-a-kind letters, albums, instruments, sheet music and costumes of iconic country music names including The Judds and artists of the outlaw movement of the ‘70s featured in the “Outlaws and Armadillos” exhibit. Artists from the likes of Miranda Lambert to the inimitable Oak Ridge Boys play sold-out shows at the Hall’s theater. You can even make it up to Music Row if you book a tour of historic RCA Studio B as part of your museum visit, which you can do HERE if you’re interested!

Check out the museum’s official website HERE!

8) The Commodore Grille

Speaking of songwriters, word is there’s plenty of that going around in Music City. Unfortunately, the crowds at a lot of tune-smith scenes (particularly a colorful little cafe whose name rhymes with “Schmoobird”) are almost always at capacity. For some genuinely good food AND genuinely good original tunes, it would do your soul good and well to stop by The Commodore Grille (located inside of the Holiday Inn on West End Avenue, close to Vanderbilt University). Pick up your mood and maybe a slice or two of their delicious Southern Pecan Pie. No reservations requiredand the parking is free.

Check out the Grill’s Facebook page HERE!

9) Fontanel Mansion

Formerly owned by ground-breaking classic country songstress Barbara Mandrell, this Whites Creek Pike site is definitely a fine one for sore eyes. It’s a bit off the beaten path of downtown and offers a luxurious hotel stay surrounded by beautiful views. There are zip lines and happy trails. You’ll see trees of green...maybe red roses too. Still, it’s just close enough to Nashville to where sometimes the beat goes on – especially on show nights! The Woods at the Fontanel amphitheater provides an ideal setup for some big-name all-out raucous concerts. It’s a wonderful (wooded) world. 

Check out the official website HERE!

10 ) Mewsic Kitty Cafe/Nashville Zoo at Grassmere

Last, but certainly not least. Mewsic Kitty Cafe is a must-visit if you pre-furr some cat action where you can cozy up with all the kitties. Featuring tea, coffee from local roasters Bongo Java and specialty pastries, spend some time taking in the view of the adoptable four-footed furry residents who strut around like they own this place.

The adoptable “headliners” (as the cafe calls them) have fun names such as Tim McClaw, Mewcinda Williams, Joni Meowtchill, Feline Dion and Emmylou Hair-is. It’s got cat class and it’s got cat style with décor that truly says “mewsic” city to the core. Reservations are recommended. Check out the cat-tastic cafe HERE!

Now, speaking of Nashville cats: Another local destination where cats of bigger varieties roam is The Nashville Zoo at Grassmere. Meerkats, cougars and clouded leopards call the zoo home, as do many other special species including Andean bears, white rhinos, kangaroos, red pandas, giraffes, tapirs, and so many more to explore. Feed the lorikeets in Lorikeet Landing or take a slow stroll with the tortoises at the zoo’s Shell Station. There are keeper talks, animal shows, and so many special events (some musically-focused). For a complete schedule of events check the website of the Nashville Zoo. There are approximately 375 animal species to be seen.

Check out the zoo’s official website HERE!

Locals Tip: Animals not your thing? If you’re a sports fan, remember Nashville has hockey – so if you’re into sliding pucks and such then be sure to check out the Nashville Predators at the Bridgestone Arena. And also be sure to take plenty of pictures of Gnash, the Predators’ proud sabertooth tiger ambassador (AKA mascot). Gnash is quite a character - often going the extra mile to show off his toothy smile and finding inventive ways to stay active outside of the ice, including on social media. Goal achieved!

#country #MegaCountry #nashville