nation's business

Happy St. Patricks Day to all our fans!

From this image it is easy to see how we got the name “The Emerald Isle”- with most of the country covered in green vegetation, primarily grassland. If you are familiar with the Irish climate, you may be in awe at this image captured by NASA’s Terra Satellite. Yes, there is apparently nothing NASA cannot do; including getting a photo of Ireland without any cloud cover!! Given Ireland’s temperate climate and the influence of the Atlantic Ocean, Ireland rarely is cloud free. In fact, the sky is entirely cloudy more than 50% of the time, according to the Irish meteorological office- 99% of the time according to most Irish people.

Keep reading

  • hiveswap good ending: Joey goes back to her home on earth
  • hiveswap bad ending: Joey is publically executed for refusing to laugh at Trizza's rage comics
  • hiveswap true ending: Joey, still undercover, studies biology at an Alternian university for 7 years. she presents her doctoral dissertation to the university review board, and to us, the readers. it's a comprehensive, evolutionarily informed biological explanation of the form and function of troll titties. it all finally makes sense. ARquiussprite extracanonically appears, drenched in sweat and a single emotional tear. we finally know.

anonymous asked:

So that post about Kara flying into Lena's office window/door like a bird because she didn't realize it was closed.....you definitely need to write a short little fic for it! Pleeeaaaaaaaaassse 😊😊😬

Based off of this Tumblr post -

http://heyitskaitlynnn.tumblr.com/post/159771041621/i-just-pictured-kara-trying-to-fly-into-lenas


It’s a Bird, It’s a - Nope, Just Kara


Lena is so tired of looking at financial reports she could scream.

She rolls her shoulders, wondering how hard it would be to talk Kara into a massage later. Maybe if she brings home extra potstickers for dinner . . .

Turning in her chair, she gazes out the window over the National City skyline. It’s a nice day, a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across the sky. Maybe she should take some of this paperwork out onto the balcony …

A streak of yellow and blue zips across the sky and she sits up a little straighter, maybe Kara will come and distract her and she can put off doing these reports for another day. They aren’t due before the board for another week anyway.

Kara comes into view again, this time a little more slowly. She continues to decelerate as she descends to Lena’s balcony - feet not even touching the ground as she glides forward. Her speed is still impressive though and Lena doesn’t even have time to call out before Kara smacks into the clear door, going down like a sack of potatoes.

“Yeeooww!”

Lena jumps up from her chair and scurries to the balcony door, throwing it open and falling to her knees beside Kara who’s clutching at her nose.

“Are you okay?!” She tries to keep the laughter from her voice, but really she can’t help that her girlfriend looks like a bird who tried to fly through a too clean window.

“What the heck was that?” Kara demands as she sits up, fingers prodding gently along her nasal bridge - even though, really, it’s not even bleeding and she’s practically indestructible for Pete’s sake.

“Well, sweetheart, the door was closed and you tried to fly through it.” a little giggle escapes at the end and Kara half pouts/half glares in her direction.

“Why didn’t it just break?”

“Oh! It’s a new polymer I’ve been working on! It’s able to withstand unearthly amounts of force without breaking! I’ve been trying to find a way to protect National City’s buildings from being destroyed every two seconds with all of these alien fights - no offense, but you’ve been singlehandedly keeping National City contractors in business for years. I was going to have you test it later, but it looks like it works just fine! I should call Winn!” She leans forward to press a kiss against Kara’s forehead before moving towards her desk. “Thanks, babe!”

“You know, when Alex does experiments on me, she buys me pizza.”

Lena rolls her eyes, but when she reaches her desk and picks up her phone she dials Kara’s favorite pizza place.

“Hello, yes, I would like to place an order for one large pepperoni pizza -“ She hears Kara whine through the open door. “-I’m sorry, make that two large pepperoni pizzas and an order of cinnamon sticks.“

The Kawaii Creations of Small Business Owner Truck Torrence

This post is in celebration of National Small Business Week in the US.

“If you like cute junk, I’m your guy, ” says Truck Torrence (@100soft), a “kawaii” (cute) pop artist based in Los Angeles. His company’s name, 100% Soft, comes from how he sees his art: “I really love being able to take something, whether it’s a person, character or food, and distill it down to its basic core elements that make it both recognizable and really cute.” Before dedicating 100% of his energy to 100% Soft, Truck was a graphic designer and web developer in the music industry. “It wasn’t until another artist friend of mine encouraged me to make my Instagram account public and share more art that I started to take it more seriously and see that I could actually maybe do something bigger.”

Angelic Affair (Part 1)

Summary: When England questions his lonely place in the world, magic steps in to solve problems with more problems. What’s the harm in taking advantage of being an angel in order to fall into a loving devil’s arms? Well, for starters, despite the fact that America’s never made a move, he’s not the sharing kind. England’s sudden disappearance rocks the world, but can America find him and convince him to return before the so-called angel, quite literally, falls from grace? Moreover, can he woo him away from the devil who got there first?

Pairing: devil!America / England, America / England, etc.

(( A long-ish short fic, in parts. ))

.

England’s tired.

It’s a self-pitying, melancholic slowness that drags out centuries and then years and then days, until it’s a crawl, each hour measured by how long it’s been since his last cup of tea and how long it’ll be until his next. Bureaucracy and politics, reluctantly installing applications on the smartphone he doesn’t like in order to keep pace with the busy lives of the world. He follows America on Instagram, at the nation’s insistence, only to have the program suggest to him Canada and France and Italy and so on.

He’s by no means enthused with the tools one has access to in order to track others, although his government thinks otherwise and tasks employees with a constant browse of social media. ‘What did Russia mean by that status update?’ or 'Is China’s purchase history cause for concern?’

In meetings, England vaguely thinks over what he’s learned and seen through these screens as he observes the other nations. America, in particular, interests him for obvious reasons. Skiing with his northern brother being on full display online brings sense to comments between them, a question regarding wine from that selfsame brother to France also has known context. Even words between Germany and Italy or Greece and Spain are illuminated by posts online.

Are their lives that entertaining that England’s missing out? Or is it perhaps some kind of ruse and exaggeration?

It isn’t as though England’s unaware as to why he’s not invited. He makes no effort to speak to most nations outside of official business and he has a habit of turning down invitations left and right. Has that progressed to the point where he’s missed the boat on establishing these media bonds? Perhaps.

He’s old. Or, at least, he feels old. In his bones, the tech is not natural to him. It doesn’t arouse his wonder, like it might for others. Magic has always been the source of his awe and no amount of electric screens can steal that away from him. Few understand that.

Yet, there’s an accumulation of tension inside of him.

Keep reading

If You Need Money But Can’t Get a “Regular” Job

So recently, another crowdfunding post came across my dash, asking for help for rent/bills etc because the person was unemployed (or underemployed) as was their partner. I see these posts not infrequently, and I try to donate small amounts when I can (I’m not exactly rolling in money myself). 

But I wanted to share a big tip, particularly for people who chronically have trouble making ends meet due to an inability to find solid gainful employment (often related to things like disability, LGBTQ status, etc). I don’t know how many people know this but nowadays, there is a lot of remote/work-from-home type stuff you can find on Craigslist that often require you to simply have:

  • A Paypal account
  • Basic literacy skills
  • Basic computer skills (like can you copy/paste data in an Excel doc)
  • An internet connection

You typically don’t need to “interview” for them and again, you can do them from home. They do typically have some kind of “test” to make sure you can do the work, some more rigorous than others. But again, typically if you have basic computer skills, basic literacy/math skills, can follow instructions, and have decent common sense you can do these types of jobs. 

Here is an example posting of the type of thing I mean:

You do have to look out for scams, because that can happen, but USUALLY they are legit. (I have done some before) And you will probably make less than minimum wage for your time. I won’t lie, this type of work is exploitative in the most banal sense of that it doesn’t pay you consonant to the time you will spend on it. (Indeed, this is why business do it, because it is cheaper than hiring someone to do it onsite where they’d have to pay them minimum wage and potentially give them benefits) 

BUT, I know “holding out” for what your labor is actually worth is not a luxury many people can afford. If you need money, but have a hard time getting a traditional job, this can be a way to keep your head above water, and it often circumvents some of the big problems people can have with traditional employment because they are queer, or disabled, or formerly imprisoned. 

Look for them on Craigslist job postings from big cities. Search for things like “remote” or “work from home.” (I do recommend searching within your nation, however, because often business don’t want to send money internationally because that’s a WHOLE other thing; this advice does have limitations because of that, and there probably are nations where this is not viable, so that major caveat does apply) 

Believe me, I’m not trying to shame people who are asking for money through Tumblr in order to survive. I just know that asking for donations is deeply unreliable and often not a solution that is viable long-term, even if it allows you to pay your rent this month. A lot of people simply aren’t aware that this type of work is potentially available to them, and I want to let everyone know. (Please signal boost) 

6

JUST IN TIME FOR #NANOWRIMO 2016! 

I have just released a refreshed and redesigned Novel Writing Template pack, as well as a matching Expansion Pack. You can purchase them separately, or together for just $7.50. All templates are available for immediate download!

All purchases of this pack will include a FREE monthly tracker to help you this November with National Novel Writing Month!

A Small Bird: Organizes on Etsy

Written by Linda Sharp, one of the most talented journalists in the country. The sad thing is that those in greatest need of reading this article would quit midway through the first paragraph.

What Will It Take?

So, you voted for Trump.

You cheered his rhetoric of hate and phobias.

You proudly wore your “Fuck Your Feelings” t-shirts to his rallies.

You cried out “Lock her up!” at his events - not caring to comprehend that there is nothing to “lock her up” for. Hell, as recently as last night in Tennessee, you were still chanting that ridiculous mantra as he held another “Make Me Feel Great Again” rally.

You LOVED his blanket condemnations of Islam.

You grabbed your sac every time he hollered how Mexico would pay for his wall.

You death gripped your whiteness, so fearful of becoming the minority and having the treatment tables turned on you.

You happily lapped up every impossible promise he made.

You fact checked nothing. And you voted for him.

A man-baby so insecure with himself that he championed his own penis in a debate. A self-confessed womanizer, cheater, molester, and piece of excrement who has never had any use for religion was embraced by churchgoers because he said words like “abortion” and let people pray over him. A thin-skinned schoolyard bully who tweets as often and as foully as he farts his KFC emissions.

You voted for him despite the hordes of white supremacists who lauded him. You proudly stood shoulder to shoulder with them at his campaign stops. You joined in the mob mentality he meant to elicit each time he pointed to the penned in group of reporters and endangered their very lives.

You voted with your hate, with your ignorance, with your misogyny, with your fears, with your phobias, with your delusions.

You voted for his pledges to “drain the swamp.”

You spent 8 years hating on President Obama for every breath he dared to take, grabbing at every salacious made up story, ridiculing his time spent with his family, spent golfing, hell, you ridiculed his family as well. A family that never had a breath of scandal; a family that is affectionate, intelligent, close. A President who projected intellect, probity, empathy, sympathy; a President who was largely respected around the world.

When the election came around, you were more than happy to transfer your bullshit onto Hillary Clinton, believing all manner of made-up garbage, including that she runs a child rape ring from the basement of a pizza parlor.

Seriously, how fucking dense are you people?

Rhetorical question. No answer needed.

So, you voted for him. For that whole Make America Great Again emptiness, but then bumper sticker thinking tends to win the day in your crowd. Sorry, Trumper sticker thinking.

He has now been in office for just shy of two months. What will it take to make you finally wake up and see what you have let loose?

His great plan to defeat ISIS in 30 days? Where is it? Again, rhetorical question - it exists only between his ears and as expressed hot air when he rambles out loud.

He emboldened all the dullards who see only color, and who feel it is now their right to physically strike out at anyone who is not white - ripping off hijabs, punching people on subways, shooting them dead in bars - all accompanied by the words “Get out of my country!”

He hates Muslims so much (like you) that he has now tried twice to institute travel bans - except countries where he has financial interests, actual terrorists from those countries be damned - those Mu$lim$ are okey dokey? How do you reconcile that?

You gleefully supported over 33 hearings on Benghazi, not caring one whit how your tax dollars were being squandered on a witch hunt in which your own party could find no wrongdoing on Hillary’s part. Yet Trump orders an ill-conceived, bravado-laden raid over dinner resulting in women, children, and a Navy SEAL being killed, and you look away.

Seriously, the mental gymnastics you must be doing to be cool with that are worthy of a Simone Biles gold.

He promised you the “greatest health care” while stumping, and has now made it clear that what he supports is tens of millions being throw off their insurance, premium increases that will bankrupt your parents, and millions in tax cuts for his rich friends. Good luck when little Johnny needs asthma meds or you get ass cancer. Or you change jobs and your wife with diabetes can no longer get insured because of that pesky pre-existing condition of hers. Oh, and you are aware that her simply being a woman will be a pre-existing condition, correct? Perhaps you should have done your research and actually comprehended that the Affordable Care Act and the FOX slurred Obamacare are the same thing.

Maybe when enough of you start to die… will that be enough?

You derided Obama as elite for his impressive education, called him a celebrity because of his crowds. Then you elected a petulant, spoiled brat from Wharton, who was a reality TV star.

Does your hypocrisy chafe at all?

Trump assured you time and again that Mexico would pay for that big beautiful border wall. Mexico told him to fuck off time and time again. And now, today comes the confirmation in his own budget proposal sent to Congress that YOU will be paying the billions for a wall that will be meaningless.

Is that enough? What, no umbrage? No outrage?

You embraced his every childish taunt, his every 3 am Twitter rampage during the campaign, thinking them hilarious, brave, profound - how about now that he should be governing yet is more distracted by wars with Nordstrom and Snoop Dogg?

He making you proud by acting like a 12-year-old boy with his first cell phone?

That whole swamp draining thing? Um, he is surrounded by white nationalists, climate deniers, liars, and fellow million/billionaires. He loudly derided Hillary for giving a speech at Goldman Sachs - you booed and hissed and wanted her head - he has surrounded himself with former Goldman Sachs employees.

“Her emails! Her server! Security!!!!!” <—-There’s a popular one from the campaign trail. Yet you are as quiet as a ward of coma patients as his administration uses private email servers, he openly conducts the business of national security over dinner at his “winter White House,” invites Mar-a-Lago members to sit in on cabinet interviews, and he continues to use an unsecured Android phone.

Vacations? Golfing? Pfffft. “There’s just so much to be done,” Trump told CBS’ 60 Minutes in an interview broadcast Nov. 13, 2016. “So I don’t think we’ll be very big on vacations, no.” Melissa McCarthy (ahem, Sean Spicer), his sartorially challenged mouthpiece, told FOX “He will never take a vacation… he can’t sit still. He’s so eager to get things done and change things up – there is never an idle moment and so there is not going to be the word vacation will not exist in a Trump administration.”

He leaves tomorrow for the FIFTH weekend trip to Mar-a-Lago, where he most certainly fills his idle time with round after round of golf. He has played NINE times since taking office.

What, is golfing suddenly cool? Ok with all of you who derided every stroke Obama took? And the costs you all shit yourselves blind over in terms of “vacations” when Obama was in office? All these $3 million trips to Florida hunky dory with you? West Palm Beach is starting to realize what a bankrupting grifter he is as his repeated trips are threatening the very existence of many businesses: “We’re going broke.”  $1.7 million dollars in taxpayer money that has gone from the WPB coffers to his security? The White House refuses to even acknowledge the requests to be reimbursed.

Melania living in Manhattan and costing you (all of us) just shy of a million a day? Look, I am fine with their choice to let Barron finish the school year there. My own family has made that choice, hell, we are LIVING that choice, and have been for over 9 years. BUT WE ARE PAYING THE COSTS OF OUR CHOICE.

<Insert crickets.>

Of course, it’s ok with you. You’d rather eat from a buffet of Trump’s rectal remnants than admit, perhaps, that you got conned by a man who literally earned the moniker Don The Con DECADES ago. You got played by a reprobate who has made a very public display of constantly and consistently cheating, lying, ripping off, and threatening people all his life. The Art of the Deal? Sorry, the only art here is the art form to which he raised carnival barking.

So what will it take? THAT is a serious question.

Will you have to see your own grandparents starve to death as Meals On Wheels evaporates? Will Putin have to be caught with his tongue in Trump’s mouth and his hand down his trousers for you to stop with the “fake news” bullshit? Sorry, but just because news doesn’t make your head feel good or your pee pee hard does not make it fake. Will your child have to die in front of you because your healthcare disintegrated? Well, you can take heart in all those new weapons of death he has promised for the military.

What will it take for you to finally admit that you were lied to, vote grifted, used?

I suspect for most of you will take a target finally being squarely placed on your back.

Whether it is healthcare, bankruptcy, your coal jobs NOT coming back, your deployed spouse or child being blown to bits in a war of distraction and bravado, or finally being labeled a “loser” by Trump for being poor - it will happen.

You cheered as he targeted Muslims. Because you aren’t one. You applauded as he targeted the LGBT. Because you aren’t one. You proudly wore your MAGA hats as he targeted Mexicans. Because you aren’t one. You laughed as he constantly went after minorities (pssst, brown people). Because you are not one. You clapped like a deranged seal as he repeatedly took aim at Black Lives Matter supporters. Because you are not one. You blew off his obvious ridiculing of a disabled reporter. Because you are not disabled.

Your target is coming. It is inevitable. You will need something at some point - we all do - assistance, insurance, school lunches for your children when you lose your job, food stamps, housing aid, an emergency operation, and on and on. And when you do, you will be a loser, a taker, a welfare cheat. Too bad you can’t eat boot straps.

Some of you are slowly opening your eyes - comment sections now contain those who confess to making a mistake with their vote, TrumpRegrets collects all the staunch supporters who have finally realized they have been chewing on bullshit, not red meat, thrown to them by this fraud. Investigations into his lies and connections (and those of the cadre of villains around him) are ongoing and more is gleaned every day.

His house of cards is coming down. Alternative facts, fake news, Tweets meant to distract, all of it, will eventually give way to cold, hard facts that reveal how vile, corrupt, compromised, and naked is this emperor. Sadly, however, the damage has been done.

And you own it. All 62 million who looked the other way at every horrific statement, heinous promise, and pledge to hurt other people. You did this to our nation because, like Trump, you cared more about winning than you do about your neighbors, this country.

What will it take? Pain.

It’s coming Trumpers. But when you are crying, in need, damaged, bereft don’t expect the majority that tried to keep this from happening to feel sorry for you.

To quote your t-shirts: Fuck Your Feelings.

I think we can all agree that Yuuri’s speech was a central scene this episode, and although I’ve seen a lot of people giving great explanations about Yuuri’s use of 「愛」 in his speech and the difference between 「愛」(ai) and 「恋」(koi) there aren’t many people who go further into his speech than that.


Firstly I’ll just briefly gloss over 「愛」 and 「恋」because what they each connotate in the Japanese language is important to the Yuri!!! on Ice plot

「恋」is kind of like a physical love. It describes one’s longing for someone, but lacks a deeper emotional bond. Used for boyfriend/girlfriend/partner.

「愛」 is a deep love, it encompasses 恋 but also describes emotional love. While it does mean you long for someone, it kind of implies that you’re willing to do, give, or change something to be with them. Used for family/spouse.

***note: on the contrary, while「恋」does imply a physical romance/love, 「恋人」refers to you’re true love, you’d call your fiancé or spouse that, and「愛人」implies someone you’ve had an affair with. So when Victor uses the word 「恋人」…. ;)))


So when Yuuri says
「僕の愛、それは分かり易い愛や恋ではなくて、ヴィクトルとの絆や、家族や、地元に対する微妙な気持ち」
He’s saying his「愛」is not just the physical and emotional love he has for others, his love is literally his relationship with Victor, it is literally his family, and that it is the complicated/abstract feelings he has for others around him (aka Yuuko, Minako, Nishigori). It is a tangible THING such as actions and words as implied by Yuuri’s use of 「物」 instead of 「事」which would describe an idea or a concept.

Another interesting thing to note is when Yuuri says he has “no name for this emotion”
「その感情に名前はない」
At first I thought Yuuri might have been downplaying his emotions but then I realised it wasn’t that, it was that Yuuri really just doesn’t know exactly what 「愛」is just yet despite describing it briefly before because he’s still exploring what it truly means for him.
Before Victor, we all know Yuuri had a big crush on Yuuko, hell, he was going to confess in the first episode. But that’s all it was, a crush, which would take neither 「愛」nor「恋」, but 「好き」(suki).

Now I’m sure you know the difference between 「愛する」and「好きです」but just in case
「好きです」refers to a wide range of types of “like”. You use it for objects, hobbies, and topics, or people-wise, friends and crushes.


Through Yuuri’s speech, we are witnessing his growth and exploration of what 「愛」is, what it means to him, and who the word applies to. Most prominent are his developing feelings of 「愛」towards Victor. The phrase
「繋ぎ止める」
Does mean “to hold on to”, but it also means “to fasten” or “to tie”, and this implies that while Yuuri does not want to let go of Victor, neither does he want Victor to let go of him. Yuuri wants to create a mutual bond with Victor, and he has decided to call this bond 「愛」.


As a side note, here’s further meta on Yuuri and Victor’s developing relationship, shown through the episode preview. It’s very short but 
I do think it’s a cute example of them becoming closer to each other.

Perks of a purchase

The Selection (Chapter 1)

Phil Lester; the CEO of the largest company in the United Kingdom buys a contract with Dan- a virgin.


His leather chair croaked as he casually stretched with an air of sophistication.

  Phil Lester; CEO of the largest company in the United Kingdom. An inheritance that would allow him pay his way through 10 lifetimes.

Yet despite his riches, he never got laid. You wouldn’t think that, would you? An attractive young man with a national business to his name. 

Guess it’s time he spent some of that money. 

In downtown London, the hidden parts known only to the big names, there was a club. This club had no obnoxious neon lights, no thumping music through the walls- none of that. It appeared to be an abandoned building from the outside, what with the boarded up windows and all. Yet when entered, it was all sophisticated dim lighting, cushioned chairs and glass screens. 

Ah yes- the glass screens. 

This is where the ‘Available’s’ were displayed. That’s the name they give to the individuals that choose to sell themselves as ‘long term prostitutes’. Rather than being paid for flimsy one night stands, they make an offer that means they 'belong’ to the buyer, and are sheltered and fed for a selected amount of time.

There was no foul play here, no danger. The buyers must go through a series of checks to ensure the 'Available’s’ are in safe hands, and can leave at any time. 

Phil had only been here occasionally when small gatherings and parties were held, but tonight he went with a bully chunk of cash in his pocket, and his best cologne.

“Mr. Lester! A pleasure to see you again. Just here on business?” Jack, the bartender greeted with a smile.

“Actually, I’m here to buy.” Claimed Phil, blushing lightly.

“Finally decided to get laid, huh? Let me show you who’s available tonight.” The young man offered while winking.

Phil took in the large range of people behind the glass; all genders, looks and ages were there (all above 18 that is). Yet one caught his eyes. He had short, sharp and curly brunette hair, piercing brown eyes, and dark fashion. The name on the screen read “Dan Howell” and he held himself well, but still seemed shy to be looked at so closely.

“Can I speak with Dan please?” Phil requested; grinning when Jack lead Dan to a back room, beckoning for him to follow.



“So, we have some basic questions to run through. Then if an agreement is made you and Dan can go through the more nitty gritty details together, okay?” Jack started.

“Yeah of course!” Phil acknowledged.

“Okay, so first of all: what are your intentions here?” The young man asked, pen and paper ready.

“Well it’s kind of embarrassing, but I’m lonely? There is never anyone to come home to, and obviously I never get laid. I came in here all confident but now I feel like I’d just be using Dan.” Phil admitted, feeling slightly ashamed.

It wasn’t a lie. He’d originally thought 'scrap it I’m going’ but now he was here; it felt quite wrong to pay someone for sex and company.

“I’m sure Dan will agree, that this is his job. He chose to have this job and could pursue any other careers if he wanted to.” Jack tried to reassure him. It was at this point Dan himself spoke up.

“I enjoy this job, and you’re not being immoral here, so just answer his bloody questions and stop blushing.” He retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

Okay, a feisty character. Phil liked him. 

“Well like I said, it’d be nice to have someone to come home to, and obviously to have sex.” Phil stated, deciding it’d be easier to be blunt.

“Good good. Next question then; would you consider yourself responsible enough for yours and Dan’s wellbeing?”

“Yes, I mean I’m not the best cook but I can make a good stir fry?” Phil chuckled.

“That’s fine, and emotional wellbeing too? Will you at all times make sure Dan feels valued as a human being, and that he doesn’t lose self worth?”

“Oh, of course! I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.” Phil gaped. He never understood how some people could be mean owners and treat their new companion as a piece of meat, in fact it made him feel sick.

“Well it’s all sounding good here. I’ll leave you and Dan to talk alone and come to any decisions.” Jack announced, getting up to leave the table.

It was Negotiation time.


Hello! 

This is the first out of 8 or 9 chapters, hopefully you want to read more. It was a oneshot request but I really wanted to turn it into a full fic.

Upcoming chapters include ‘lessons’ (nsfw) and the growth of a relationship, other than that no more spoilers.

I’m going to upload the second chapter tomorrow!

NOTE: I’m going to tag this fic as ‘poap’ but if you’re only here for smut, block that tag, and the smut chapters will be ‘poap nsfw’ for your convenience ;) 

-Y

The Five Stages of Grief

Arthur hasn’t gotten out of bed although he’s been awake for three hours. He heaves air through his lungs slowly, as if it was painful- but the only pain is the dull ache in his chest where his heart is supposed to be.

Francis was gone.

The realization hits Arthur as if he had run into a brick wall. Mumbles of no, no, no, fill the air. The quiet if effectively broken for just a few moments, but it settles back into silence when Arthur feels the tears sting at the corners of his eyes.

Although the mantra remained alive in Arthur’s head, he let the sound fall out because he just wanted Francis to come back. He would come back, right?

Light shines through the light off-white curtains of Arthur’s bedroom, yellow rays spilling across his bedsheets, his clothes that he hadn’t bothered to change out of last night, and his ungroomed face. The house that had so many memories, situated in the British countryside and very estate-like, seemed empty now. Weeks had passed and still Arthur felt numb, cold. Was their decades of a relationship just a fluke to the country of love?

And some country of love he is! Up and leaving like that, not leaving a trace after so long! What did he even do?! It’s not like there was anything new or changed about their relationship that might have caused him to leave, the only possible reason is that Francis Bonnefoy is a huge dick! In fact, he’s such a fucking dick that his actual dick looks like a toothpick in comparison!

How dare Francis. How dare he leave Arthur and take all his things like he was never there in the first place? Did he think that Arthur would just move on with his life, casually pick up a new partner, fuck around with a whore for a little while? Fuck no.

Arthur hasn’t gone to work in weeks. When he tries the Queen or the Prime Minister or Matthew stops him because he’s clearly not okay and honestly at this point he’s willing to do anything just to have Francis back.

To have that long, blond hair, smiling blue eyes, the skilled hands, Arthur would sell his soul. He wants what he used to have back; after all doesn’t the saying go “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone”? Well now Arthur knows and he wants back his Francis. He wants the teasing and the play fighting and the amazing sex and the actually good French food and Francis’s hands and arms and love back. He wants Francis back but for some reason God decided that he couldn’t have back the one thing that kept Arthur going these last few decades.

Another wave of sadness washes over the Brit, and he rolls over on his mattress, pulling a sheet up and over his head. Memories flash in and out of Arthur’s head and he groans. Why now, why does he always have to think about him when all Francis cared to do was leave?

Of course that didn’t help his growing depression. All that he did each day was gripe about Francis, make himself tea, try to eat something, and get back into bed. Occasionally Matthew would visit, but he had his own nation business to handle. No one has the time to deal with Arthur but he himself.

But maybe, if Francis wants to be away from him, Arthur will just have to deal with it. It’s not as if Arthur can drag Francis back to the countryside house and they’ll start living like they used to again. Francis is such a free fucking spirit.

Arthur would just have to move on after another few hundred cups of tea.