Tumgik
#and then once i finish that i can focus on getting my english papers done
stranger-nightmare · 2 years
Text
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞
Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader
Summary: Eddie encourages you finish your English paper…
Warnings: porn with minimal plot tbh, smut, cockwarming, praise kink, minors DNI
A/N: um so I’ve used my personal dissertation topic in this bc I didn’t know what else to use so I hope you guys find it interesting amongst the pure porn that is below lmao!! <3
p.s. here’s a part two <3
Tumblr media
This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.
Tumblr media
“Come on sweetheart, you’ve still got a whole summary to write...” you can feel the smirk on Eddie's lips as they kiss across the top of your shoulder.
You sigh, lulling your head back onto his shoulder, letting him have better access to your neck. You arch your back, pushing your hips back, taking his cock even deeper inside you where you were currently sat on his lap. His jeans are rough on the back of your bare thighs. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling.
“Uh-uh-uh” Eddie tuts, reaching around to grab your face in his hand.
He twists your head awkwardly to look at him, digging his fingers into your cheeks and forcing your lips to purse.
“I told you” he looks at you darkly, the smirk spreading across his face, “no moving until you get your work done.”
He releases your face harshly, letting your head fall forwards in the direction of your work. You whine and Eddie just slaps your hips in response, reaching up to touch your skin underneath your skirt.
“Concentrate, kitten. Keep writing” he whispers huskily against your ear, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers through your body.
You mewl pathetically, your lips pouting, as you pick your pen back up and try your best to finish the paper.
“There’s a good girl” Eddie hums quietly as your pen starts to move across the paper hurriedly.
You try to pull all your focus into your work, to plan out in your head what you were writing, to think only about the theory you were trying to summarise; basically anything other than the fact that Eddie was seated to the hilt inside your throbbing pussy but there was nothing you could do about it yet.
You can visibly see your handwriting getting sloppier as you scramble towards your last sentence, your brain moving faster than your hand could. You could feel your breathing quicken as you desperately tried to reach the end of your point, your pussy pathetically clenching around Eddie’s cock, causing him to groan from behind you, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he held you in place.
“Come on sweetheart, you’re almost there” he kisses the side of your neck again.
You whine, your hand beginning to shake as you raced towards that final line, wrapping up your point once and for all.
You practically throw the pen down on the table, twisting your torso so you could look back at Eddie.
“I’m finished” you practically cry as you lean forward to catch his lips with your own.
“Mmmm” he hums against your mouth as he allows you to kiss him, practically devouring him as you were so needy by this point.
Eddie’s hands help lift your hips off him for a moment as you twist in his lap, moving to straddle his hips so you could face him now. You whine at the loss of contact, at the sudden emptiness inside you.
“Shhh sweetheart, you’ve done well” he hums lazily against your mouth as he helps guide you back down onto his cock.
You gasp into his mouth as he fills you up again. By now you’re so wet he’s able to slide so easily inside you, right back to the hilt as he was before. Eddie's teeth sink into your bottom lip just to tease you some more.
But little did you know that the teasing was still far from over.
You try to move your hips, to begin riding him, but he holds you still with a bruising grip, keeping you firmly sat in place.
“Eddie...” you whine, trailing kisses down his throat in a pathetic attempt to convince him to let you move.
You’d already been sat still on his cock for 20 minutes, you just couldn’t take any more. Your pussy was practically dripping from how wet you were, your clit throbbing from the lack of attention, the ache spreading through your body, the overwhelming want, need, to just be fucked into oblivion.
But Eddie wasn’t about to let that happen.
Not yet at least.
“You’ve done so well baby, but we’re not done just yet” he looks at you darkly. “I’ve gotta make sure you’re taking your education seriously, need to know you properly understand the topic. Isn’t that what you always say to me?” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily.
If you weren't so damn desperate for him you’d roll your eyes and tell him to cut the shit. This is clearly some kind of revenge for all the times you’d made him finish his studies before you’d let him touch you, or let you touch him. You were always emphasising the importance of him finishing his work. You weren’t about to let this boy fail another year. And not it was coming back to haunt you.
You groan against his skin, nuzzling into his neck as you sigh defeatedly.
He taps your hip a few times until you sit up again to look him in the eye. A gasp escapes you at the new upright position, his dick pushing even deeper inside you.
“So, come on princess. Explain the theory to me. Give me the summary you just outlined in your paper” he smirks, cocking his head to the side.
You take a shuddering breath as you try to compose yourself. You knew there was no point arguing or trying to persuade him otherwise, you were completely under his control. You squeeze your eyes shut, Eddie’s eyes boring into yours just making it all the more difficult to gather your thoughts into some kind of sensible pattern.
Your voice wavers as you attempt to begin your explanation, your fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you try to keep your composure.
“Steven King’s theory on... horror writing states that...” your shaky breathing makes it hard for you to form a complete and coherent sentence.
“Uh-uh” Eddie tuts cruelly. “Steven King’s theory as outlined where? Can’t be forgetting our references now can we sweetheart” he taunts.
You moan and throw your head back in frustration, biting your lip to stop from whining anymore. You take another deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.
“Steven King’s theory on horror writing, as outlined in his book Danse Macabre...”
“Good girl” Eddie whispers quietly.
“His theory states that there are three different levels to writing horror” you manage to get out, taking another deep breath.
Eddie nods once. His thumb starts to draw small circles on your hips as he signals for you to keep going.
“The first level, the easiest to achieve, is the ‘gross-out’” you continue. “It’s where the author tries to evoke feelings of horror in their reader by grossing them out with things such as body horror. It’s anything to make the reader feel physically uncomfortable and disgusted” you ramble quickly.
“Good” you hear Eddie murmur under his breath.
“The next level- oh” you gasp loudly when you suddenly feel two of Eddie’s fingers brush over your clit.
You eyes fling open and you lurch forwards, keening into the touch.
“Keep going” he nods his head at you, his eyes alive with a wicked darkness.
Your voice is even more shaky as you attempt to carry on.
“The next level... the second level, is ‘horror'” you mewl as Eddie’s finger starts to circle your clit with an agonisingly slow pace.
“Keep going” Eddie repeats. “You keep going, I keep going” he emphasises his last point by pushing slightly harder against your clit, eliciting another moan from you.
“Horror involves a palpable danger, like when the object of fear is right in front of us, like if we were directly faced with a killer or something. The danger is right in front of you and can be dealt with, or at least tried to be dealt with” you pant hurriedly, hoping that if you got through your explanations quicker Eddie might speed up his torturously slow assault on your clit.
But he doesn’t, not yet. He just hums his approval and nods at you again, signalling for you to continue, to get to that final level.
“The final level...” you begin, pausing for a moment to take breath as your mind becomes fuzzy with the pleasure that slowly but surely building up inside you,“...the final level is ‘terror'.”
Eddie bites his lip in satisfaction as he grips your hips again with his free hand, coaxing them to start moving. You could almost cry, even just the tiniest of movements was sending you almost into a complete tizzy. He keeps his circles on your clit and your rocking movement slow. Enough to give you something but not enough to work you all the way towards a climax. Not yet, at least.
“Terror… terror is the hardest level to achieve. The hardest emotion to evoke...”
Eddie hums his approval again and starts to move his fingers a lil quicker, let’s you ride him a lil faster. You get spurred on his movements and are suddenly rushing to finish your explanation.
“Terror is the hardest to achieve because it’s not palpable like horror. It’s ambiguous. It’s shadows in the corner and whispers in the dark. It’s the question of ‘what if’, where you don’t know what the danger is, what the threat is, that’s the terror. It’s the unknown” you breathe out quickly.
You open your eyes again to look at Eddie and see him smiling up at you, those dark eyes alight with mischief.
“That’s a good girl, you did so well” he whispers as he finally starts to move his fingers against your clit with even more enthusiasm, his pace quickening.
You whine and immediately starting to move your hips as much you could, grinding against his cock, pushing yourself against his fingers. You’re beyond thrilled when he doesn’t try to stop or even slow you, he finally just lets you ride him like you’d been wanting to for so long now.
You were so worked up at this point that you didn’t think you were gonna last long, especially with the way he was expertly playing with your clit.
You dig your fingers into his shoulders again and use the grip to help build your momentum, rocking your hips back and forth. You were panting with the effort, with the desperation of having to wait this long. Eddie just keeps his eyes steady on yours as he watches you get yourself off in his lap. He loved to watch you and tonight was no exception.
“Fuck, even after all this you’re still so tight” Eddie groans, his hips pushing up to meet yours. “You always feel so fucking good” he praises you, causing you to moan at his words. “So fucking good for me.”
“Eddie” you almost cry. “I can’t- I’m gonna-“ you pant heavily, the pleasure completely taking over your body, taking over your mind.
You arch forward, your forehead resting on Eddie’s as your hips buck desperately against his.
“I know baby, you’ve been so good for me. Just let go” he breathes as he moves his fingers even faster.
His words, his praise, his permission, his fingers, his cock; it all finally comes together to tip you over the edge.
“Oh fuck, Eddie” you moan his name as you ride him through your orgasm.
Your whole body shudders as pleasure runs through you. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, causing Eddie to grunt.
“Ohh fuck” he groans quietly as you feel him twitch and then spill inside you.
His fingers falter for a second as pleasure takes over him now, his eyes screwing shut for a second before he opens them again to admire you as you slowly keeping fucking yourself onto him, steadily dragging out your orgasm for all it was worth. You had earned it after all. You and Eddie are both panting, your breaths mixing as your foreheads stay pressed together, your eyes locked on one another as you each watch the other fall apart and slowly come down from your highs.
After a moment you slump against him, your body going slack, your head resting on his shoulder as you both try to catch your breath. Eddie strokes your back your lightly, placing kisses to the top of your head.
“Such a good clever girl” he teases lightly, a quiet, satisfied chuckle rumbling through his body.
You scowl secretly into his chest. Yes he’d let you cum in the end but you weren’t sure if you cared too much for all the cocky teasing you had to endure to get there.
Oh, you were definitely going to get him back for this...
Part Two
Tumblr media
Masterlist
A/N: hehe I hope you enjoyed this and that you learned something about horror writing, this is genuinely what I wrote my undergraduate dissertation on lmao!!
p.s. the small surprise is that there will be a part 2 to this where you get Eddie back for all his teasing which you can now see linked above <33
Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
fangirl-writes · 4 months
Text
Doppelgänger
Benny Weir x Fem!Reader
MBAV Masterlist
Warning(s): near-death, canon-level violence
Request: can be found here.
Notes: This is a mix of multiple things that we’ve seen in MBAV episodes while also stealing a little bit of plot from the Vampire Diaries. Hope you like it! 
PS: I kinda want to make this into a full fledged fic because I had so many ideas that were hard to package into a one-shot but we’ll see if I ever actually do that.
Summary: A doppelganger traps you in a mirror dimension and slowly sucks the life out of you so it can take your place. Will Benny and friends save you in time? (yes obviously, but the suspense)
Tumblr media
You stare across the room, into the only window in the otherwise dark room, the yellow glow of it staring back at you.
It was a tragic way to die, in a place without light, where your loved ones would never find you. All the while a cheap copy of you wandered freely, fooling your friends and your Benny.
Benny. Would you ever get to see him again?
Perhaps you’d get lucky and he would peer into the mirror so his eyes would be the last thing you saw before the life finished draining from you.
He’d probably feel so guilty, think it was all his fault. 
But it wasn’t.
If there was anyone to blame, it was the vampire who seemed a regular bane to the existence of White Chapel and its inhabitants.
Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
In the school’s theater, in a dressing room we’ve seen before, lies a cracked mirror that once held the spirit of Olivia Frye. And while her spirit no longer posses it, that doesn’t mean the magic of the mirror is gone.
The vanity lights flicker on in the otherwise dark room, illuminating the pale face and blue eyes of Jesse Black.
Reaching into his pocket, Jesse pulls out Benny’s spellbook.
He opens it on a marked page, running his fingers across the paper before reading aloud: “Zacaroth Maznacaroth. Dimitte hunc spiritum e carcere, ut iterum vivant.”
As he reads, the mirror begins to repair itself, the cracks sealing up. But as they are doing so, a mist also starts to leak from the glass.
A grin spreads across Jesse’s lips and he chuckles darkly. “Welcome back, my dear.”
Before him stands the ghostly figure of who appears to be you, but she’s faded, missing the color in her body that signifies life. Except for her eyes that shine the same unnatural blue as Jesse’s.
The following morning, you, Ethan, and Benny are walking down the hallway of White Chapel High as Benny searches in vain for his spellbook.
“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally make it vanish again?” Ethan asks.
“No, it was in here last night I swear,” Benny says before groaning and angrily throwing his bag closed. “The one day I wanted to make Ms. Fine forget about our essays and the thing disappears! It’s like it knows when I’m using it for evil. You think my grandma put a spell on it?”
“If she was gonna do that, she’d have done it long before now,” Ethan replies.
“You know, if you started memorizing your spells like you talk about, this wouldn’t be a problem,” You say.
“And if you had agreed to strip studying I would have tried,”
“Okay, gross,” Ethan says, pulling a face.
“Y/N.”
You perk your head up, looking around the hallway for whoever said your name, finding no one in a sea of faces.
“Y/N.”
You turn around, following the voice but still seeing no one.
“Hey.”
You jump as Benny’s hand touches your shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
You let out a breath and smile at him. “Yeah, I just thought I heard someone call my name. It’s probably nothing.”
Benny nods and pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you continue your trail to your lockers.
The voices persisted as the day went on, bothering you in class and at lunch, making you feel scared and crazy. Not to mention incredibly distracted.
It made it hard to focus on math or science and especially English where you were meant to be reading Shakespeare and reviewing essays.
“Ms. L/N.”
Ms. Fine startles you out of your stupor and you hurriedly hand her your rough draft, printed and stapled together.
“Are you feeling alright?” She asks and you make a quick decision.
“Actually, I’m feeling a little sick. Can I be excused for the nurses office?”
“Sure. But hurry back.”
You nod and gather your things, exchanging a glance with Benny and Ethan each before leaving.
You really did plan to go to the nurses office until you could talk to your friends, but that damn voice started bothering you again. And in an otherwise empty hallway, it was hard to ignore.
“Y/N.”
“Oh, I’m gonna regret this,” you mumble before heading in the direction of the voice.
You follow it all the way to the theater, which is dark except for the light coming from one of the dressing rooms.
“Please don’t be a ghost,” you whisper to yourself. “Or a vampire, werewolf, ghoul, zombie, whatever. Let me be having a psychotic break because of stress and this voice isn’t real.”
You cautiously peak into the room...and find nothing.
The room is empty except for the vanity and chair. And the voice has gone quiet.
Shaking your head, you walk into the room and sit down in the chair. “Maybe I am going crazy.”
Your a little startled by your reflection, which is pale even under the warm lighting.
“...or maybe I’m actually sick.”
You press a hand to your face, checking for a temperature, watching as your reflection does the same.
Letting your hand drop, you observe the mirror more closely, eyebrows furrowing together.
“Wait a minute, wasn’t this mirror-”
You let out a scream as your reflection surges forward and pulls you into the mirror before jumping out in your place.
You collapse on a cold floor, hurriedly standing back up and rushing toward the mirror’s opening but your reflection holds out a hand, causing the mirror to seal back up and trap you inside.
“Sorry,” she says. “But I can’t have two of us running around to ruin my plans.”
You bang on the glass. “Hey! Stop! Let me out!”
But she’s already gone, leaving the room and shutting the door, enveloping you in darkness.
“Didn’t you see the look on her face?” Benny asks. “Something’s wrong.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ethan replies. “It’s probably just a headache. You know how too much supernatural stuff gets to her sometimes.”
“Yeah, but this was different. She’s been hearing voices all day. I’m starting to worry this is something bad.”
Benny pushes open the door to the nurse’s office, expecting to find you laying there but instead the small bed was empty.
“Can I help you boys?” The nurse asks from her desk.
“Uh, sorry, but did Y/N L/N come in here earlier?”
“No, I haven’t seen her in here today.”
Benny feels a pit in his stomach. “Right, thank you.”
He closes the door and exchanges a look with Ethan. “She didn’t come back to class and she didn’t come here. So where is she?”
Ethan looks a little more worried now. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Rory says.
Not-you turns to look at him and Rory is taken aback.
“You okay? You’re paler than usual. Did you get bitten by a vampire? Attacked by an abominable snowman? Possessed by a ghost?”
Not-you smiles. “Oh, no, I’m actually an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”
Rory’s eye go wide. “Woah, really? That���s so cool. But...why’re you telling me?”
Not-you pats him on the head. “Cause you’re not smart enough to try and stop me.”
“Oh. Yeah that’s fair. Where’re you off to anyway?”
Not-you hums. “I’m smart enough not to tell you that.”
“Oh, great,” you mumble, watching as your battery drops another percentage, but the bars never move from zero.
How are you supposed to call for help?
It’s chilling, sitting in the dark with nothing but your phone for light. Your eyes can’t even adjust to the darkness because there’s nothing to see; you’re in a void.
A headache is slowly making itself known and you can’t be sure if its from staring at your phone screen or because a doppelgänger trapped you in a mirror.
The supernatural always has a way of giving you a headache. Doesn’t matter what it is.
Ethan can hardly touch you because if he has a vision, you’ll have a migraine for the rest of the week. If Erica, Sarah, or Rory use their superspeed around you, you’ll nearly faint.
Benny’s the only one who can use his powers and not effect you. You aren’t sure why.
He likes to joke that it’s because your soulmates. 
“I don’t know, E, I just have a bad feeling about this,” Benny says. “Sarah! Have you seen Y/N?”
Sarah, who was just putting her bag on her shoulder at her locker, turns to the boys. “No, is she missing?”
“Yeah we haven’t seen her since English and Benny’s freaking out,” Ethan replies.
“Aw, does Benny miss his girlfriend?”
“No, I mean yes, but that’s not what I’m worried about. She’s been hearing voices all day, what if something spooky got her?”
Sarah smiled. “Benny, if something spooky was happening we would surely know by now. Ethan would’ve had a vision or Rory would pop in with some information he doesn’t realize is important.”
As if on cue, Rory appears. “Heard my name!”
“Perfect,” Benny says. “Okay, Rory, give us some of that sweet sweet information. Have you seen Y/N?”
Rory’s eyebrows furrow. “Well, yeah, but she said it wasn’t really her. She said she was an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”
Benny gestures wildly. “You guys concerned now?!”
“Okay, yeah, maybe,” Ethan replies. “Did she say what she was doing or where she was going?”
Rory shakes his head. “No, she said she was too smart to tell me.”
“Curses,” Benny says. “They’re starting to figure out our tricks. Come on, I need to find my spellbook to track her.”
Ethan, Benny, and Sarah hurry off, leaving Rory behind. 
“You’re welcome,” he says, miffed that they disregarded him. 
“Ah, nice to see you in the flesh again,” Jesse says, tossing some popcorn in his mouth.
“I see you’re still fond of the theater where your plans were ruined,” Not-you replies, eyeing the room.
“I’m a sentimental guy,” he says. “And with you, my plans can’t be ruined again.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. My doppelgänger might be a mortal but she has the same power I do, under the surface.”
“Don’t tell me your afraid?”
“Not afraid. Just cautious,” Not-you says. “Arrogance is what got you defeated the first time. I won’t make the same mistake of underestimating them.”
Jesse stands up and walks over to Not-you, grabbing her arm. “Starting to get some flesh back, I see.”
“Swapping places with Y/N has helped immensely. Give it a few more hours and I’ll be back to full strength.”
“And Y/N?”
“Collateral damage.”
Jesse smiles. “Then we don’t need to underestimate them. We can destroy them.”
Meanwhile, Benny, Ethan, and Sarah are tearing apart Benny’s room, trying to find his spellbook.
“Goodness me, what’s going on in here?”
“Grandma!” Benny exclaims, popping out from under his bed. “Have you seen my spellbook?”
“No. Don’t tell me you’ve lost it, Benny, you know how dangerous that is,” she replies.
“I know, I know, but lecture me later, we have to find Y/N.”
“Y/N is missing?”
“Yeah,” Sarah says. “She was switched with a doppelgänger.”
Evelyn purses her lips. “Circe.”
“Who?” Ethan asks. 
“Circe,” Evelyn repeats. “She’s an old witch who caused quite the ruckus in White Chapel. Reverend Black tried to have her burnt at the stake but considering that he turned out to be a vampire I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s resurrected her somehow.”
Benny gasps. “With my spellbook!”
“Follow me,” Evelyn says, leading the group of them to her basement where she digs through a box for a leather bound book.
“Ah!” She says. “Here it is.”
She flips it open, going through the pages before stopping on one. “Here she is.”
“Woah,” Ethan says. “She really does look like Y/N.”
“Doppelgängers were created by nature after ancient beings defied their laws by creating immortality. Circe must’ve tried to make herself immortal, causing the doppel curse,” Evelyn explains.
You’re starting to feel horrible. Your body getting heavier and heavier, a weight on your chest growing. 
It wasn’t like the usual anxiety or claustrophobia you’ve experienced before. No, this felt like your soul was slowly being sucked from your body.
Is this it? you think. Is this really how I’m going to go out?
You raise your phone, the bars still empty and the battery too low for comfort.
“God,” you mumble.
Jesse pulls the Cubile Animus from his pocket. “This is what we’ll use to capture the souls.”
Circe raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that thing going to be able to hold all the supernatural souls? They’re more powerful than human souls.”
“Well, if you happen to have another soul-holder laying around, you just let me know,” Jesse says, scowling at her.
“I’m just saying, maybe you should’ve done some research before you set this plan into motion.”
“It’s going to work.” Jesse snaps, getting into Circe’s face. 
“All right, if you say so,” she replies, lifting a magical hand, glowing gold, and pressing it against the box.
You gasp, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline and your eyes flicker a gold that makes its way down your face, arms, and into your phone, causing it to call Benny.
“If Circe has taken Y/N’s place you need to find her fast. The longer Circe stays in her place, the more of Y/N’s lifeforce she takes,” Evelyn says. “She could die.”
As if on cue, Benny’s phone rings. 
He scrambles to check it, Y/N’s name glowing on the screen. “Oh my god.”
He answers it. “Y/N? Where are you, baby?”
“Benny...” your voice is faint and quiet. “...mirror...”
“Mirror? I don’t know what that means, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
The urgency in his voice is obvious and you’re trying your best.
“At- at school...the mirror...”
“A mirror at school? The mirror at school?”
“Olivia Frye’s mirror!” Ethan says with a snap of his fingers. “In the theater.”
“Y/N, babe, is that right? You’re in Olivia’s mirror?”
“..yes.”
“Great, let’s go,” Sarah says.
“Be careful!” Evelyn replies as they go.
“Y/N, stay on the phone with me, okay?”
You groan. “Benny, I’m so tired...”
They throw themselves into Grandma’s car, Sarah driving.
"No, no, baby girl, stay awake for me,” Benny pleads, hearing your breathing become labored.
“Benny...” you whisper out one last time before the phone goes dead.
“Y/N? Y/N! Y/N, baby, please- god dang it!” Benny throws his phone down.
“It’s okay, Benny, we’ll find her,” Ethan says. “She’s gonna be fine.”
“I hope so, E, I really hope so.”
"Do it now,” Jesse demands.
Circe’s eyes glow gold and she whispers an incantation.
Meanwhile, Erica and Rory are out looking for a midnight snack. 
“Are you sure we should be out here?” Rory asks. “Sarah said there’s a powerful witch out here somewhere. And that she’s working with Jesse.”
“What’s Jesse got against us?” Erica replies. “If anything he should be thanking us for being his only turns that survived. Natural selection in my opinion.”
Suddenly, her body goes rigid and a glowing, white mist flows out of her mouth and shoots off. Her body collapses to the ground.
“Erica?” Rory asks, nervously, leaning down next to her.
Erica’s soul finds its way into the Cubile Animus and Jesse smiles.
Rory’s body follows ensuite of Erica’s, going still and his soul being taken from his body.
And now we’re caught up. You’re dying in unimaginable darkness, weeping. Wishing with all your might that they find you. That you’ll see your friends and Benny again.
Luckily for you, they burst through the door.
Ethan, Benny, and Sarah are to the mirror in no time, Benny’s hand pressing against the glass.
“Y/N! Come take my hand, please!”
“I-I can’t,” you cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him, his eyes worried, scared even.
“Yes, you can!” He replies. “I won’t let you die! You’re so close, Y/N, just come take my hand.”
It’s hard, and it hurts, but you move.
You crawl, sobbing, towards him.
Benny’s own tears are threatening to spill over as he listens to you crying. 
“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I love you.”
You reach up. And take his hand.
Feeling your grip, Benny pulls.
Your body comes tumbling out of the mirror and into Benny, who immediately hold you close, whispering “oh my god” over and over.
You’re shaking, still crying. You’re thin, pale, and weak.
“Y/N,” Sarah says softly. “Do you know where the doppelganger is?”
You close your eyes, focusing. “The theater,” you whisper. “They’re at the theater.”
More souls are being sucked into the box: Kurt Lockner’s, David Stachowski’s, all the vampire nurses.
Evelyn, knowing - or rather feeling -  what’s happening, sits in her rocking chair and mumbles a counter spell that will keep her soul inside her body.
Circe growls. “Let go, Evelyn. I’ll get your soul if it kills you.”
“Not a chance.” Evelyn replies.
Sarah hits the breaks hard, putting the car in park and jumping out of the car, Ethan following closely.
“Y/N, stay here, okay?” Benny instructs.
You nod, closing your eyes and lying down.
“Hey!” Sarah kicks open the door to the theater. “Having a party without me?”
“Sarah!” Jesse says. “Glad you can join us. Just in time for Circe to take your soul.”
“Oh yeah? Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” Circe replies, turning to Sarah with glowing gold eyes.
It strikes her then how nearly exactly she looks to you.
“So your the witch who’s stealing my girlfriend’s soul!” Benny shouts.
Circe smiles. “I’m a much better model, don’t you think?”
“Not a chance, honey.”
“Jesse, I’m busy. Take care of them, won’t you?” Circe says. “Your grandmother can’t hold on forever, Benny.”
“What?” Benny cries, becoming angry. He shouts a spell, hurling it in Circe’s direction, who waves it off easily. 
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Come on, Sarah,” Jesse says. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we? What makes you think you’ll win this time?”
“This!” Ethan yells, shooting Jesse in the face with holy water.
Jesse screams.
“Literally never go anywhere without this. We’re smarter this time, don’t you know?”
“I don’t think you nerds have the capacity,” Jesse says, wiping the burning liquid off his face with his sleeve.
Sarah attacks him and Ethan gasps, being overcome with a vision. It’s a vision of Benny’s grandma and Jane chanting the same words she used to defeat Jesse the first time.
When he comes back to, he shouts, “Benny! Your grandma’s spell! The first one!”
The pieces clicking in his head, Benny chants those same words and watches as a bolt of lighting appears and hits Circe in the chest. She cries out, dropping the box that Benny scoops up.
“Hey, Jesse,” Benny says.
Jesse stops, Sarah’s neck in his hand, and looks at Benny.
“This look familiar?”
He opens the box, releasing the souls inside.
Jesse screams, dropping Sarah and running off.
“You coward!” Circe yells. “Coward! AH!”
The souls attack Circe, slowly pulling Y/N’s soul out of her body.
Once it’s out, Circe drops to the ground and fades away in a fog.
Breathing heavily, the three left watch as Y/N’s soul shoots off, presumably back to Y/N’s body.
“We really need to destroy this thing,” Benny says, tossing the box in the air and catching it again.
Erica and Rory burst through the doors, fangs bared, ready for a fight.
“Aw, man, did we miss it again?” Rory asks.
“Yeah, sorry, Ror,” Ethan replies.
“Ugh. I’ve been waiting to tear Jesse a new one for like, ever,” Erica says.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get your chance,” Sarah says.
“Oh my god, Y/N,” Benny says, shoving the box into Ethan’s hands and running out to the car, the others following.
You’re still sleeping, and breathing, thankfully. But your color isn’t back to normal, neither is your weight.
So, they take you to Evelyn.
“Her body isn’t used to magic,” she explains as Erica and Sarah set you gently onto Benny’s bed. “It’s going to take a while for her to naturally heal. But, if a few powerful magicians were to try to speed things along...”
“We can do that?” Benny asks, hopefully.
Evelyn grabs his shoulders. “We can try.”
They hold hands over your body, shutting their eyes and chanting “Extende in desiderium cordis mei; Sana hoc vulnus cum virtute ignis. Aufer aegritudinem et dolorem; Sanatio est quod offero.”
Your body glows, color coming back to you and your weight returning to its normal size, but you don’t wake up.
“Did it work?” Benny asks. “Why is she still asleep?”
“Even healing magic takes time,” Evelyn explains. “Give her a little bit.”
She pats him lightly and leaves the room, leaving Benny alone with you.
“God, I really thought I was going to lose you,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.
The time stretches on as he waits for you to wake up and he eventually nods off.
Which is when you decide to wake up.
You smile as you see him lying next to you and lean over to kiss his cheek.
He shoots awake immediately, practically tackling you in a hug. “Thank god!”
You laugh. “Thanks for saving me.”
“Always,” he replies. “Always.”
113 notes · View notes
marie-swriting · 6 months
Text
Baking Therapy - Emily Prentiss
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Summary : Emily has a lot of things in mind but she can always count on you to notice it and make her feel better.
Warnings : set in season 12 so mention of Reid in prison, hurt/comfort, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.
Word count : 1.8k
French version
Song inspiration : Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift
Still in her office at the BAU, Emily finishes the paperwork about the last case with tiredness in her eyes. She fights the sleep off as best as she can to have the strength to go through Reid’s case once she’ll be over with this one. However, the fatigue takes over her body a bit more when she yawns loudly. Emily stops writing and closes her eyes while stretching, hoping to feel more awake. As soon as she thinks she is better, Emily takes her pen and resumes writing her sentence. When she finishes it, someone knocks on her door. Without looking up, she lets the person come in. Hearing Rossi’s voice, she draws her attention to her colleague. 
“You’re done ?”
“Almost. I just need to complete some passages.” she informs, pointing at the file.
“You’ll go home soon then.”
“No, I want to take a look at Reid’s file.”
Upon hearing Emily saying this, Rossi sighs before getting closer to her desk.
“Emily, it’s 9 P.M. I thought you were supposed to spend the night with Y/N.”
“I told her I’d come home late.” Emily specifies and Rossi gives her a look. “What ?”
“You should go home.”
“And I will. I just want to find something to help Reid first.”
“Look, I want the kid out of prison as much as you do but you won’t be of any help if you pass out on his file. Go home to your wife and get some rest. Like this, you’ll be able to work better.” David orders, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“Sure but-”
“No ‘but’. Trust me on that. Finish this file and go home.” he insists.
“I will.” Emily concedes, sighing.
“Have a good night Prentiss.”
“You too, Rossi.”
Once Rossi is gone, Emily doesn’t waste a second and gets back on her file. The last period on the paper, she glances at Reid’s file on her desk then at the picture of you two. She wants to listen to Rossi’s advice yet she wants to take advantage of every second to help her friend. However, when she yawns until her jaw drops, she has to accept the fact she needs to rest. Reluctantly, she turns off her lamp desk, takes her bags and leaves the building.
On the way home, Emily pays more attention to her driving, aware of her level of tiredness. Upon arriving at your place, Emily sighs in relief. In the elevator, she stretches her neck while checking her phone. As soon as she opens the door of your apartment, a smile makes its way on her face whilst she puts her bags on the ground. You’re in the kitchen humming the refrain of Eternal Flame by The Bangles, Emily goes to join you and as she gets closer to you, she finds you making fresh pasta. Emily wraps her arms around your waist and puts her chin on your shoulder. As soon as you feel her, you’re slightly startled then you turn your head towards her. You peck her lips and focus back to your pasta.
“You’re home early.”
“Rossi convinced me to leave.”
“Remind me to send him a text to thank him and to reprimand him, too. I wanted everything to be ready when you come home.” you explain, smiling.
“It’s okay. What is it that you’re making ?”
“Pasta alla carbonara alla Rossi.” you exclaim, trying to say it with an Italian accent. “I know, I mispronounced everything.” you add while Emily holds back a laughter.
“It was cute.” she affirms, kissing your cheek. “You need help ?”
“No, thanks, I love my kitchen too much.”
“Hey ! I’m not that bad.” Emily says, offended and she tickles you.
“You’ve improved, I have to admit.” you tell her whilst continuing to cut the pasta. “You have time to take a bath and put on some comfy clothes. Go !” you order and you push her toward the bathroom.
You’ve just finished cooking, when she reappears in the kitchen. Emily’s hair is in a bun and she wears leggings with one of your tee-shirts. She sits at the table and you put the food on the plates. At the same time you set the plates on the table, Emily pours you a glass of wine then another one for her.
Whilst you’re eating, Emily asks you about your day. You tell her about your class and some funny sentences your six-year-old pupils told you, she laughs at some of them. As you keep talking, you notice she does everything to avoid talking about her day, but you don’t say anything about it. You know Emily needs some time before explaining the horror she sees in the field. Guessing it was a pretty tough case, you distract her until the end of your meal.
Once you’ve cleared the table, you see on Emily’s face she won’t be sleeping, despite how tired she is. Her brain is working too much to allow her to rest. You give her a compassionate smile before taking her hand in yours. Emily smiles at this contact.
“You want to bake some muffins ?”
With your sentence, Emily understands what you’re insinuating : “you want to bake while we talk about what’s on your mind ?”
It’s a habit you’ve naturally picked on. The first time you did ‘baking therapy’, as Emily calls it, it was at the beginning of your relationship ; you had been dating for a month and that night, the case had been hard emotionally speaking. When she came home, she found you baking a strawberry charlotte. She helped you with it as much as she could while she was explaining what she was feeling. The baking moment ended up in tears though, Emily felt better afterwards. Therefore, it quickly became your tradition and currently, Emily needs a lot of ‘baking therapy’.
After taking all the ingredients, you start baking the muffins whilst Emily weighs what there is to weigh and hands them to you when you need it. At first, Emily stays silent, lost in her thoughts. You notice it right away because she doesn’t hear you the first time you ask her to give you the flour. You give her a few more minutes before asking the fateful question.
“You want to tell me what’s going on in your mind ?”
“I’d need more than some muffins to tell you everything that worries me.”
“Fortunately, we have a whole day off in common tomorrow. For once. It’s your last case, isn’t it ?”
“It was a tough one, yes. Everytime I think I’ve seen it all, a new UnSub proves me wrong. You know you’d think I’m used to it by now but it’s not the case. No matter how much I try to be emotionally distant, sometimes it’s complicated.” she admits with sad eyes while handing you the sugar and the baking powder.
“It’s not the only thing.” you add and Emily avoids your gaze for a second.
“I can’t stop thinking about Reid. We’ve been searching and still, we can’t find proof Scratch is behind all of it. If Spencer could remember what happened in that motel, it could probably help us. Besides, I can’t help but imagine Spencer in prison and how it must be complicated and it breaks my heart. He needs to get out of it and I have to admit I’ve been wondering if we’ll be able to do it this year.”
“You’ll find what you need to help him, Emily.” you affirm, putting your hand on the top of hers.
“I hope. Either way, I won’t be resting until he is with us again.”
“Em’, don’t forget to not overwork yourself.”
“He needs my help.” she steadfastly contradicts. “I should be doing more, I feel like I’m not doing enough.”
“It’s not true and deep down you know it. You’ve done everything you could and you and your team are still helping him. But Emily, you have to rest. You won’t be able to efficiently help him if you’re exhausted. I know you go through his file when you can’t sleep at night.” you confess and she looks at you, frowning. “The parquet floor creaks when you get out of bed.” you add, laughing lightly before mixing together your preparation. “Emily, I’m sure you’ll find a solution for Spencer. You’re the best BAU team, I don’t care if I’m not objective for saying this. The fact is, you will clear his name. I have faith in you guys. I have faith in you. And stop doubting your skills, you are a good Unit Chief.” you state looking her straight in the eyes. 
“You’ve known for too long.” Emily falsely complains while you beat the egg whites until stiff. 
“And knowing so many profilers helps too. I’m serious though, Em’. It’s true you have a lot of things to handle, the cases, the new responsibilities as Chief, Reid’s case with Scratch, it’s a lot of pressure and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed but do not think you don’t have the skills to deal with all of it. I know you and if there’s one person who can handle it, it’s you.”
“You always have the perfect words. Thank God, you’re here.” she smiles and she gives you the chocolates chips. “Without you I wouldn’t be able to feed myself properly.”
“Am I only useful for this ?” you question, faking being offended whilst you mix again.
“No, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better wife. With you, I can be vulnerable without feeling bad about it so thank you.” she says softly and kisses you.
Emily butters the tins then you fill them with the mix. You put the muffins in the oven while Emily sets the timer, not without stealing the rest of the preparation at the bottom of the bowl. You put the dishes in the dishwasher before sitting on the couch. Emily’s back is against your torso and your arms are around her body. You stay like this in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. Sometimes you whisper sweet nothings, wanting to make sure her mind is free from all the stress before falling asleep.
Once the timer rings, you tell Emily to go to bed whilst you take the muffins out of the oven. You let them cool down and go change in your pyjamas. As soon as you’re ready, you go to your room to ask Emily if she wants one muffin or two and when you see her fast asleep, you smile. You make sure every light is off and the main door is locked before making a detour to the kitchen. You take a small plate and put a muffin on it then you go find your wife in your bedroom. You set the plate on her night stand and lay next to her. As soon as you’re laying down, Emily’s arms find their way to your waist. You get closer to her, kiss the crown of her hair before closing your eyes, Emily’s regular breaths, lulling you to sleep. 
Masterlist
{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}
101 notes · View notes
spaceagerabbit · 2 years
Text
listen i am 1. in love with layla el faouly and 2. tired of having no layla x reader romantic fics on tumblr
SO HERE’S SOME HEADCANONS
LAYLA X CUTE FEM! READER LET’S GO
- let’s say for argument’s sake that layla actually DID decide to divorce marc to make my life much easier
- layla would be heartbroken inside and put up a kind of stoney wall because the one person she really loved served her with divorce papers and disappeared for 2 months
- of course we don’t know where layla was during that time, but i believe that if she made the decision to be done with marc, she would probably continue her father’s work (but not without planning and copious amounts of research)
- she meets you out of pure coincidence one day at a library where she was trying her damndest to decipher one particular set of hieroglyphs which were mostly scratched away in the photo her dad had taken (it was supposedly a riddle, a clue to where another tomb might be)
- you were simply working at a table right across from her, every once in a while looking up at the gorgeous mystery woman both in awe and also out of concern (because hmmm she seems like she’s about 5 seconds from ripping that book in half out of frustration and while that would be very hot, she would be charged a fee for destruction)
- with layla’s occasional frustrated groans becoming more and more frequent, you almost feel obligated to help her out (or to at least help her calm down slightly). it’s when layla lightly tosses the book on top of the table in frustration that your need to help overcomes your anxiousness
- you push your chair out and, with your heart pounding, walk toward layla and stand beside her
- “can i help you at all?” you ask, and layla is somewhat forced to look up from her work to at least be polite to the stranger who had kindly (but she will admit, slightly foolishly since hieroglyphs take a while to learn) offered her help
- and good gods she should not find a stranger that attractive on first glance
- layla is still good at holding her neutral face, even if her heart is starting to beat a little faster with each minute she can smell your perfume
but getting back to the subject matter
- you, of course, don’t know much about ancient egypt more than the average person (no shame, i don’t either). however, you are good at recognizing shapes and patterns
- the photo print is just in focus enough that you can make out the shape of a hand, and then a lasso, and then a sort of squiggly line
- you bring the book layla had out closer to the both of you and you drag a spare chair over to sit next to her
- “i can’t really read the symbols, but i can tell you what shape they are!” you said
- layla looked at you with slight suspicion, but the innocent look on your face and the genuine excitement at being able to help was enough to convince her that your intentions were pure
- you begin to describe the first few characters that you were able to make out and layla tells you what english letter each character coincides with as she writes them down in her notebook
- after finishing the first set of hieroglyphs, layla gets another photo of a different set out of her bag, and turns to you fully, but with slight hesitation
- “…would you be willing to help me for a little while? you’re making my job much easier than if i was alone” layla says, the first genuine smile she’s had in weeks making it’s way to her face as your eyes light up and you nod excitedly
- the two of you make quite a great team as it turns out
- layla finds the way that you describe the shape of the hieroglyphs ridiculously endearing and adorable (her favourite was when you cutely described the character for ‘W’ as “ah! this one’s a rlly cute little yellow bird!” with a look of affection on your face for the little creature. she swear her heart almost burst)
- after a couple of hours, layla had deciphered almost all of the photos of the hieroglyphs with your help
- but before you could continue on to the next photo, the librarian came up with a (customer service) smile on her face telling you both “the library is closing in five minutes, please gather your belongings and vacate the building”
- you looked at layla with slight disappointment. this afternoon spent with her was one of the most fulfilling you’ve had in a while and you had grown to love her beautiful brown eyes, curly hair, and friendly smile
- layla looked up at you with the same disappointment. this was one of the best afternoons she’s had in a long time and she had grown to love your giggle, your adorable smile, and how invested you looked every time she told you what each phrase in the picture was
- you both gathered your things and returned the books you were reading to the shelves, accompanying each other so as to lengthen the time you were spending with each other
- but finally, you reached the front steps of the library
- neither of you wanted to walk off first, but neither of you knew what to say to make the other stay either
- “so-“ “so i-“ you both said, looking at each other in surprise before giggling. “you go first” you insisted, so layla did
- “i really liked spending time with you. you helped me out a lot more than i thought you’d be able to” she started, making you smile in the process, “and so, i was wondering… if we could do this again sometime? it doesn’t have to be at the library, we could do it in a coffee shop or a park, or you could come to my place and-“ she rambled slightly nervously
- you touched her hand lightly and then held it, bringing her attention back to you. layla looked down to where you were holding her hand up to your grinning face
- “i’d like that, i’d like that a lot” you said softly
- layla stepped a little bit closer to you, and turned towards you fully and you did the same
- you glanced down at her lips for a split second before looking back into her intelligent eyes
- “we should probably exchange numbers” you stated softly, neither of you moving away. “yes we should” she replied, putting one of her hands on your arm, lightly stroking the skin with her thumb
- realizing yourselves, you both stepped apart, layla grabbing her phone out of her brown shoulder bag and handing it to you, and you doing the same
- as you both walked in separate directions, your hearts fluttered slightly. yours with excitement and fulfillment, layla’s with worry, anxiety, and most unexpectedly, something she hasn’t felt in the months since marc’s disappearance, love <3
(if you would like to make a full length fic about this or continuing this? PLEASE DO BUT CREDIT ME IN IT!!!!!!! also tag me bc i love a good fic)
288 notes · View notes
Note
omg 30 with harley and peter pretty please? <33
Tumblr media
y’all fucking saw that prompt list and had the same thought and I respect that
prompt: hey bud. I didn't mean to reveal that I can read minds but I gotta know what in the actual hell is going on in your head, do you live like this? always??
Read Saw it in the Movies here on ao3
~~~
He wasn’t born with the ability to read minds. At least, he didn’t think he was. 
The truth is, he couldn’t remember much from before New York. 
Well, that was sort of a lie. He remembers Tennessee a little bit, and his mom vaguely. He thinks he might have had a sister. He knows he was adopted. That’s why he has a different last name from his dad, because once all this was over, he might be able to go home. Still, his dad-
“Hey, is it cool if I go to the movies with Harry?”
“Is your homework done?”
“Mostly. I just need to edit that English paper, but our teacher says we do better if we take a break between finishing and revising it.”
“Then I don’t see why you can’t. Do you need any money for tickets or snacks?”
“I think I still have some left over from my last birthday. Harry, he says we can go!”
Harry Osborn popped his head out from where he was hiding. “Thanks Mr. Stark!”
“Don’t mention it, kid. Say hello to your father for me when you see him.”
“You got it, Mr. Stark. Come on Harley, let’s get going.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming!”
When he first started being able to read minds, there was no going to the movies. There were no friends. There wasn’t anything really. Just a dark, soundproof room, and a lot of doctors. 
Now he could filter out everyone else's thoughts. They were still there, but it was more like a quiet buzzing that he could block out instead of the hurricane of noise he used to feel. 
The movies are one of his favorite places to go because most people have similar thoughts, and Harley doesn’t have to focus so hard on dampening them. 
“Hey, wait a second kiddo.” Harry was already out the door when his dad stopped him. 
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay, right?”
“Never better.”
“Good. Don’t stay out too late please. My new intern is coming in to train tomorrow, and I want you to meet him.”
“Okay. What time is he getting here?”
“He should be here around 10am. You don’t have to be in the lab then, but just come down before he leaves please.”
“Sure. And I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t even try to read his thoughts like I did with the last guy.”
“I appreciate that. As much as I like not having a spy in my lab, I also like avoiding people finding out about your abilities via insane scandals. Now go, your friend is waiting.”
“Thanks dad!” He ran to meet Harry, who was waiting patiently by the elevator. 
“Did you dad want something?”
“It was just about some work stuff, nothing to worry about. Seriously, if we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss the movie.”
~~~
Movie theaters were Harley’s favorite place in the world next to his dad’s lab. Being enveloped in a large, dark space felt safe, and he loved the general excitement it seemed to radiate. 
Basically, it was the ideal place to let go for once.
“Are we thinking action or horror?”
“Action,” Harley replied immediately. As much as he loved the movies, scary ones always brought out the worst thoughts in people. 
“Predictable. Two for Batman please?” Harry addressed the box office attendant. 
“We could always go see a rom-com.”
“Why do you hate me?”
Harley took his ticket with a snort. “Because you’re my best friend. It’s, like, a legal requirement.”
“Fair enough. The opening credits should start rolling soon.”
As they settled into their seats, Harley waited for the lights to dim, closed his eyes, and opened his mind to the people around him. It was so nice to just relax for once.
“You’re not going to fall asleep again, are you?” Harry asked. “I will stop going to the movies with you if you keep doing this.”
“No, I just love the feeling of the sound coming up. Try it.”
“You’re so weird, man,” he said, but complied regardless. “Now what?”
“Shhh.”
Moments later, the speakers rang to life, and Harley tapped into the positivity around him. 
Harry grunted. “I guess you win this round, Keener.”
“Always do, Osborn.”
They quieted down to watch the movie, and Harley let it roll over him. Maybe he needed to take breaks like these more often. 
~~~
But of course all good things must come to an end, so obviously he woke up the next morning with a migraine.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He had shit to do that day and a migraine was going to make everything awful. 
When he got migraines, he couldn’t control the thought flow as well, and that made for all sorts of problems. Usually when this happened, he locked himself in his room and didn’t come out until it was over, but he made a promise. 
He slowly eased himself out of bed and got dressed, keeping the lights off the whole time. It took some time since pretty much everything hurt, but he managed. 
Walking with his eyes closed wasn’t really an option, but he used the wall to guide himself to the elevator and slumped inside. He was able to hit the down button, and let himself be carried downwards, trying his best to hold himself up on the hand rails. 
The lab doors opened automatically upon his approach, and he glanced up quickly to see a boy hunched over a work station, clearly absorbed in whatever he was doing. 
Thank god, Harley thought. If he’s focused, his thoughts won’t hurt.
Then he walked through the door and was met with a wall of chaos. 
Somehow, his dad’s new intern had Star Wars quotes, Star Trek theories, equations for quantum theory, and the chemical equations for his own work all in his head, along with things Harley could never begin to decipher.
“Hey, you must be Harley.” The guy noticed him. “I’m Peter- hey are you alright?”
“Headache,” he gasped, trying not to pass out as his voice bounced around inside Harley’s skull. 
“Should I call someone?”
“My dad- Tony,” he stuttered. “Is he-?”
“Shh, shh, hey it’s okay. I’ll get him, you’re alright.”
Harley thought heard him start to yell ‘Mr. Stark!’, but before he saw whether or not his dad was there, he collapsed, and everything went dark. 
~~~
He came to in a hospital bed with a handsome man he didn’t know sitting in the chair next to him, holding his hand. 
“What happened?” he groaned.
“You’re awake,” the person said. “Thank god. I mean, we didn’t think you were going to die or anything, but you just keeled over. Is that normal for you?”
“Pretty safe to say it’s not,” he snorted humorlessly. “Peter, right?”
“Yeah. This isn’t really how I expected to meet you.” 
“I'm with you. Talk about bad first impressions.”
“I’ve seen worse. Seriously though, are you okay?”
“I am now. Sometimes I get these nasty migraines, and it got so much worse when I walked into the lab because-” he froze. 
“Because what?”
“Okay, listen, I barely know you and I don’t usually tell people this, but I can sort of read minds, and dude, what the actual hell is going on in your head? Do you live like this?”
Peter blinked at him. “I… do.”
“That sucks. You should really get that checked out.”
“You can read minds?”
“Yeah.”
“How?” 
Harley shrugged. 
“What am I thinking now?”
He really didn’t want to subject himself to Peter’s brain again, but his headache was gone, so it should be all right. Harley reached out with his mind to tap into Peter’s, only to discover that the buzz was no longer there. 
“I don’t know,” he laughed. 
“But you said-”
“I know what I said. Hold on.” He focused harder on it, and sure enough it was gone. “Holy shit, it’s finally gone,” he said gleefully. “Dad!”
“You’re awake! We were worried about you.”
“Dad, I can’t hear thoughts anymore!”
“What?”
“I can’t read anybody else’s thoughts! I’ve tried, they’re just not there anymore.”
“How can that be possible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe his thoughts overloaded my circuits or something. It makes sense since they’re the last ones I read.”
He squinted at Peter. “Do I want to know what’s going on in there?”
“No you don’t,” he and Harley said in unison.
“Noted. I’m going to go get the doctor. You might need to go in for a CT scan and an MRI, but if you can’t hear thoughts anymore, that’s good news.”
With that he walked out, and the room lapsed into silence. 
Harley leaned back in the bed, reveling in the quiet. 
“How long were you able to do that?”
“So long,” Harley said without opening his eyes. “It’s been years.”
“Wow.”
“I’m not going to miss it, that’s for sure.”
They listened to the bustle of doctors and nurses outside for a while until Harley spoke again. 
“Hey, I know we just met, but can I ask you something?”
He stirred in his uncomfortable hospital chair. “Sure.”
“Why were you holding my hand when I woke up?”
“I don’t know, you see it in the movies all the time, so I just thought, you know…”
Harley burst out laughing. “Oh man, that’s amazing. Maybe once I’m out of here, you can hold my hand for real, all right?”
Peter grinned. “I think we could make that happen.”
38 notes · View notes
Text
huh I think I have things figured out a little better now
0 notes
Text
Five general productivity tips
1. DO NOT DIVIDE YOUR ATTENTION:
Keep things straightforward. No multitasking. Don't lie to yourself that you can study English and do perfectly your job at the same time. Focus on each thing 100% then once it's done, move over to the next thing. Full, undistracted, fully devoted focus is going to give you so much more bang than divining your attention over 5 different things.
2. LESS IS MORE, AND DO NOT CHANGE WHAT WORKS.
You don't need 1747 apps for productivity. If your Google Calendar works for organization, no need to get two schedulebooks for your organization. You're bringing in clutter and chaos and distraction in something that needs to be kept SIMPLE. Do not try new productivity stuff when you're in a rush, about to finish for a deadline. Try new stuff when you're fully relaxed.
3. SCHEDULE TIME OFF AND ACTUAL WORK TIME.
Schedule your movie night, schedule your work shifts in your (online/paper) schedulebook. Planify your plan ahead and commit to yourself you're going through with it. Time off, sleep and down time are essential to be more productive, but at the same time, you HAVE to be productive to give meaning to your time off. Else it just becomes wasted idle time.
4. GIVE YOURSELF A DAILY GOAL.
Something attainable, absolutely DOABLE and a ACTION PLAN. It can be "I have the goal of reading 30 pages of this book, and I'll read this after my breakfast, then before bed." Accomplishing something easily doable daily gives you a boost of good mood and happiness which makes you more likely to desire accomplishing another goal, and another goal, and another goal and so on.
5. STOP READING ABOUT PRODUCTIVITY STUFF AND GO DO SOME STUFF.
That includes this very same post. You're probably reading this in need of direction, of "knowledge". But turns out you probably have some stuff and are procrastinating by reading productivity tips. Do yourself a favor, stop reading and go do some stuff for ONCE. 💎
Tumblr media
344 notes · View notes
eliemo · 3 years
Text
Math Problems
Summary: Logan gets frustrated when he doesn’t understand or get things right, and Patton always knows just what he needs.
Notes: This is a fic for the band au by @underdog-arts based on this post! I'm also gonna tag their other blog, @tsbandau
Thank you so much for letting me turn your idea into a fic, I really loved writing for your characters <3
TWs: panic attack/meltdown
Logan frowned down at his notebook, glancing once more at the screen of their laptop to the answer key for the problems before turning back to his own writing. Their answer didn’t match. It wasn’t even close, despite how he’d been certain he was doing the equation right.
That was fine- the homework assignment was to help him understand the material before the test next week- and he wasn’t in any rush to get it done. He’d try again, fix the mistake, and move on to the next one.
He took a breath to ease his frustration, the tension fading almost immediately when he glanced up at Patton seated right across the table, nails clicking against the keyboard as he focused on the paper Logan had encouraged them to work on while he did his math.
It was incredible how fast Patton could calm them down without even trying. Logan had never felt this safe with anyone else.
Logan erased his work, the equation taking up over half the page, brushing off the paper and flexing their hand before starting again.
He took it slow this time, checking and double checking each step as he progressed. It felt right, just like it had the first time he’d tried. He had this, they’d done countless problems like this in class, and he’d been fine in then, fine when taking notes, fine with the other problems, so obviously he’d just made a silly mistake the first time without noticing, and they’d get it right on their second attempt.
They had it this time. They just had to keep going, carry the numbers, check their math and then—
It was wrong. Again.
What? It wasn’t supposed to be wrong, he’d done everything right. It was the same as all the other ones and he knew how to do those, so why?
The logical part of Logan’s brain told them that they should just skip it and move on, it was one tricky problem and he wasn’t nearly done with the worksheet. He could come back to it when he was ready.
They immediately ignored their own logic, frustration rising all over again as they erased their work, the faded image of both failed attempts now staining the notebook paper staring back at him.
He did the problem again, leg bouncing incessantly against his will as they worked. His pencil scratched furiously against the paper as they glanced between their work and their notes.
He knew how to do this. He did. He’d done countless problems just like this one all week long. It was easy.
So why was he suddenly so stupid?
They finished the equation, hand shaking as he gripped his pencil, his leg bouncing fast enough to make the table tremble. He’d gotten a different answer this time, but it was still wrong and he didn’t understand why.
He tried again, but the hand holding the pencil was starting to tremble. The paper ripped slightly when they erased their work again, and Logan grit his teeth when his vision blurred with hot tears.
This was stupid.
His leg bouncing was definitely bothering Patton by now, the table shaking with each movement, Logan’s free hand tapping furiously against the wood as he studied the problem again.
They didn’t get it. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong.
He tried again, squinting at the screen and back at their paper, but it was like all the words and numbers were jumbled, blurring together into one indecipherable puddle of math homework.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t-
“Logan?” Patton was staring at them now, their voice full of honest concern, but Logan couldn’t even look up, eyes still flying from his screen to his notes. “What’s wrong?”
Logan couldn’t even read the material now. He couldn’t understand what was wrong, he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t...even remember where to start. It had been so simple in class and now he couldn’t even get one problem right.
“Logan,” Patton said again, and Logan tightened his hold on the pencil, nails digging into his palm. “Are you ok?”
Logan’s vision was swimming, and the hand that wasn’t gripping the pencil like his life depended on it reached up to shakily wipe at the stupid tears pooling in his eyes.
They tried to respond, tried to tell Patton that everything was fine, but all that came out was a choked, “I can’t do this.”
“Do you want to take a break?”
“I can’t do this,” they said again, the stream of words falling from his mouth without his permission. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t—”
The answer key was suddenly gone, Patton’s worried face replacing the screen, her hand on top of the now closed laptop.
“You’re ok,” they assured, and Logan could only watch as she reached over to close the notebook too. “We’re gonna take a break, ok?”
Logan’s breath hitched and he shook his head, hands tightening into fists. “I can’t, I—”
“You can take a break.” Patton smiled, gentle and warm, carefully taking Logan’s hands in theirs. “You’re ok. I promise, you’re ok. We can step away for a minute.”
Logan couldn’t breathe, and with Patton holding his hands he couldn’t even wipe away the tears steadily escaping, streaming down his cheeks. “I- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“That’s ok,” Patton said, squeezing Logan’s hands. “You can take a break and come back to it later. I’ll help you with whatever you’re stuck on.”
Logan didn’t even get a chance to argue, their brain too muddled and frantic to form anymore words right now, before Patton was guiding him out of the chair and across the room.
He settled them both down on the couch, shushing Logan gently as his breathing got quicker, their brain still stuck on that one stupid math problem—
“You’re ok,” Patton said, gently pulling Logan forward until his head was rested on his partner’s chest. “Focus on your breathing, baby. I’m right here.”
“I’m...I can’t—”
“Copy mine,” Patton said, arms wrapped around Logan’s middle, her heart beating in his ears. Logan’s breath hitched again, and he clutched desperately at the material of Patton’s shirt. “Nice and slow, Logan. It’s okay.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and buried their face in Patton’s chest, desperately trying to do what he was told- to do one thing right today.
He felt lightheaded and dizzy, his body out of his control, but after a few attempts he was able to take a slow- albeit shaky- breath. And then another, and another, gently encouraged by Patton to keep going.
“I’m sorry,” Logan said once they found their voice again. “I’m—”
“It’s okay,” Patton said, never loosening their hold. Fingers started carding through Logan’s hair, and they let out another shaky breath. “English was giving me a headache, anyway.”
Logan wanted to push himself up and let go of Patton, his brain screaming at him to hurry up and finish, to figure out what he did wrong before it drove him crazy.
But he couldn’t move, bones like lead and head heavy with a thick fog. They made a pathetic noise in the back of their throat, holding onto Patton tighter.
“I have to finish.”
“You can finish later,” Patton said, planting a kiss to Logan’s hair. “I’ll help you with whatever you’re stuck on, and you can look over my paper. Deal?”
Logan hesitated, still stuck on that problem, running the numbers through his head over and over again, desperately wanting to go back and try again.
But Patton’s hold was stronger, her steady heartbeat loud in Logan’s ear, warm and safe. It felt like home.
“Deal,” he muttered, barely audible with the way his face was still buried in Patton’s shirt. Another kiss was placed on his head, and Logan practically melted into their embrace. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Patton said, gently guiding them both back until they were laying down on the couch, Logan sprawled out comfortably on top. “Anytime, Logan. I’m here.”
Logan let out another breath, their desperate hold on Patton loosening just a little as they started absently playing with his hair.
His eyes slipped shut, finally letting himself relax as Patton’s quiet breathing lulled them to sleep.
168 notes · View notes
viperbarnes · 3 years
Text
The Tie That Binds – [Two of Eight]
[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]
Tumblr media
Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.
You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.
But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.
Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.
Note: This is entirely un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!
<- Prev / Next ->
Tumblr media
The room is cold enough that you can see your breath in the air. Around you, the low hum of activity signals the debrief after a mission well-done, various personnel seeing to their jobs as you do yours.
The Winter Soldier sits as still as a statue in the chair set out for him, already waiting when you’d arrived. You’d been in the middle of some of the best sleep you’d had in weeks when your cell door had flung open, and you’d been unceremoniously dragged from your bed. Even though they blindfolded you every time, by now you knew the way to the debrief room by heart.
You aren’t sure how long they’ve had you, time passes strangely when you only ever saw the inside of a cell. You’d attempted to keep track at first, but eventually you’d lost count of how many days had passed, or if they had at all… for all you know, you’d been counting nights, anyway.
It must have been years at this point.
You work quietly on the Soldier’s arm, the incredible piece of machinery and engineering the only bright spot in your confined life, but even that had worn thin some time ago. You were never permitted to really look at it, just fix any faults or problems that it had. And it certainly had its faults. After you’d first been taken, and you’d realised there was no way you were ever leaving here alive, you’d tried to make do, to make the best of your situation.
After every mission, the Soldier would need repairs made to the artificial limb which, while an astounding piece of biomechanical engineering, seemed to be oddly fragile. You had kept yourself busy, thinking up ways to improve elements of the arm, so that it wouldn't need so many repairs, but when you had approached someone vaguely in charge about it, you’d been told to keep your mouth shut.
Interestingly, a few of your proposed improvements seemed to present the next time you’d worked on him, though, none were executed in ways that made them truly useful.
You keep your head down as you work, eager to finish as soon as possible. You didn’t often pay much mind to the goings-on around you when you were called to service, but the heated conversation happening several meters away from where you sat beside the Soldier put you on edge.
A man in a suit and a man in nondescript military fatigues seemed to be having a barely civil discussion, moving in and out of English, and what you think may be Russian. The man in the military fatigues was one you’d seen plenty of times before. He never spoke to you directly, but the soldiers and guards of the facility responded to him like the lash of a whip. You’d heard him referred to as Karpov, and you can only assume he was in command of this facility.
The man in the suit however, you’d only seen a few times, and only ever in the debrief room when the Soldier had returned from a mission. He was American, his accent made that much clear, but further than that you didn’t know.
You’re still leant over the metal limb, several of its outer panels peeled open and removed so that you may access the mechanics inside, when the heated conversation gets nearer. You flinch at the movement out of the corner of your vision, causing your tweezers to tap into a wire that they really shouldn’t. The result is a small spark, and a slight shock for your ‘patient’, and though he doesn’t move an inch, when you hiss at your own mistake, and swivel your eyes up worriedly, you find he’s dipped his chin enough to watch you out of the corner of his eye.
You can’t tell if he’s glaring or not, his face always sullen and morose, but briefly you feel the urge to apologise.
You don’t however, fearing a reprimand from either of the arguing men who still near.
“You hide behind that book, Karpov.” The American man shakes his head.
“Without me and my book, you are nothing.” Karpov all but spits back. You feel your body stiffen as they begin to circle around the Soldier, and you by extension.
“Is that right?” The American man taunts, stopping on the other side of the chair to you and planting his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Солдат, убей ее.” He commands in perfect Russian.
Before you can even register what is happening, there is a hand around your throat, forcing you back and up, until your feet have left the ground. A crashing sound joins the sudden chaos, your small workbench of tools upended and scattered over the concrete floor, all other personnel in the room backing themselves against walls or desks as they watch on in shock and surprise.
You can only gasp as your airway is constricted, and you’re left to claw pathetically at the hand that has raised you from the ground. Fear and adrenaline fuel your futile fight, and you look desperately to Karpov, who watches on in thinly veiled horror.
Your eyes feel ready to pop from their sockets, your ears filled with nothing but the sound of your own blood when you’re suddenly released, dropping to the ground like a sack of bricks.
You gasp for air, the cold burning your throat and lungs as you drink it down. You scurry back out of pure instinct, spluttering and terrified, sending your fallen tools even further in every direction.
The American turns to his companion, a smug expression smeared across his features. You can’t hear what he says, your senses still too scrambled to pick it up properly, but he gestures to you, leaving Karpov with some final words before he turns on his heel and leaves.
You’re still shaking, gasping for air in terror when Karpov finally turns back to you.
He orders you to finish your work, and then he leaves.
You wake with a soft gasp.
Swallowing thickly, you force your eyes shut again as you take in several deep breaths, calming yourself as best you can. Unable to help yourself, you lift a hand to delicately touch your throat, where the bruises from your dream feel all too real for several seconds, before they fade into memory.
You could have died then, you’re sure of it. All your suffering, all the effort HYDRA went into seeking you out, it would have amounted to nothing. And for what? A petty power play?
It makes you feel small, which makes you angry.
You know they were an evil Nazi organisation and all, but they’d upended your entire life, completely ruined any semblance of normalcy you could ever hope to have again, and they hadn’t even had the decency to act as if you weren’t replaceable.
For all you did know about HYDRA and it’s going ons, there was so much you didn’t know. After you’d been freed, you hadn’t gone out of your way to seek out information, everything you knew was everything you’d found out about during your court hearings.
When Captain Rogers had brought down SHIELD and HYDRA, there had been a dozen raids on known facilities, the one you’d been at at the time being one of them. But bureaucracy would be bureaucracy and they’d had to officially investigate and clear your name before you were truly free to go.
There wasn’t much question about your innocence though, HYDRA hadn’t really bothered to code any of their notes or files on you or your capture.
By the time they’d let you go, you were more than willing to disappear and never hear about HYDRA or SHIELD or anything else to do with it ever again.
You’d managed it for almost seven years, too, until The Winter Soldie– Bucky– had shown up.
You chew on your lip and glare up at your ceiling, and then, with a hefty sigh, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, and the slip of paper tucked beneath it.
---
Once more, you marvel that the man before you is the same as the one who occasionally haunted your dreams.
It was rather incredible what simple expression could do to change a face.
Bucky Barnes sits in the corner of the coffeeshop looking both innocuous and extremely out of place as he fiddles with the gloves he still wears. His distraction must be true, because he only notices you once you’re already halfway to the booth, his face lighting up with recognition. For a moment he looks as though he might stand up to greet you, but you give him no time to do so, quickly sliding yourself in across from him with a thin smile.
“Thank you for meeting me.” You greet, settling yourself into the seat. Bucky waves you off with a shake of his head and seems to adjust himself in his place.
“Of course… is something wrong…?”
It’s strange to you, that you can pick out nervousness in his voice, that he would let himself be so readable, but then you wonder if he even realises. You give him another thin smile and shake your head, but reach for the menu.
“No. Nothing is wrong. Have you ordered?”
After two coffees are delivered to your table, yours a simple latte, and his a caramel mocha with marshmallows that you have to raise your brow at, you settle in once more and focus on why you’d asked him to come.
“You said… when you approached me, you said you were trying to make amends…?” You say, but it comes out more like a question than you intend. Bucky’s brows knit together and he nods.
“To be of service.” He confirms. A part of you bristles at that, a part that thinks he’s done quite enough of serving others for one lifetime, but you brush the thought aside.
“I– I thought of something that maybe you could help me with…” You aren’t expecting his face to light up the way it does, or for him to lean forward almost unwittingly. Momentarily you’re reminded of a very good dog.
“I don’t know much about HYDRA. Or why they did what they did… but I want to know.” You find yourself unable to meet his eye fully as you say this, instead focusing on gently turning your coffee cup around in place on its saucer.
“If you have questions, I’ll answer everything I know.” Bucky tells you a moment later. Something in his voice makes you feel as though he understood, and you wonder if he’d felt the same at some point. You look up at him briefly, grateful for the lack of judgement.
“Do you remember everything that you did? Were you aware of what was happening, or does it just feel sort of dream-like now?” You can’t help but blurt out seconds later, as if the opportunity might be gone in a few few minutes. Bucky blinks, and you can see him restraining the small quirk of his lips as he takes a sip from his cup and places it back down again.
“It’s a little bit of both. I remember everything, but it does feel ‘dream-like’, in retrospect.” He tells you.
“Who was Karpov?” Your next question makes him pause, a brief, almost undetectable flash of disgust and anger crossing his features before he clears his throat and speaks again.
“A Soviet, then Russian intelligence officer… He ran the program for a time…” Bucky frowns as he speaks. You nod, having thought as much.
“He’s dead, now.” He adds after a moment, and you glance up at him questioningly.
“Wasn’t me.”
You proceed to poke and prod at his brain for the next hour, and to his credit, he answers every single one of your questions as best he can. Even subjects that you think he may not normally broach, or things that seem like they might be classified, he tells you honestly.
You’ve both gone through two coffees when you’re finally coming to the end of your questioning, your mind filled up with more information than you could possibly hope to remember at length, but that wasn’t the point.
The odd ease you’d felt the last time, when he’d shadowed you around the grocery store, is gone. You no longer felt as though he posed some kind of threat, which was ridiculous, because the sheer size of him should have instilled that in you. The fact that you had so many traumatic memories tied to him should have sealed the deal, but somehow, it’s like none of that mattered.
That in itself gives off its own unease.
You feel like you’re in a constant limbo.
A comfortable silence had settled between you since your last question (and answer), and you watch Bucky finish off his drink. He’d removed his gloves halfway through your talk, and you’d done your best to steer your eyes away from the shiny black and gold of his new metal limb. Now though, you find your curiosity piqued at the sight of a strange black mark on the underside of his wrist, only visible when his sleeve pulls back just so.
You’d never noticed it before, though why would you have? You were always too focused on his metal limb. It makes you wonder though, which leads you to staring at your own hand, at the discreet lumpy white scar on the back of your palm.
“Do you know why they removed my soulmark?” The question comes quieter than all the others, and you don’t look at him as you ask it, though you see from the corner of your eye that he stops and stares down at your hand too.
He doesn’t reply at first, and you almost think he may not have heard you. When you do look up at him, he seems to jump, blinking rapidly and tearing his gaze from your hand.
“My guess is they didn’t want any loose ends…” He says slowly, but frowns.
“They didn’t remove yours?” You nod to his wrist, which he looks down at, clearly resisting the urge to cover it up again.
“They tried… but the serum… I guess it prevented them from doing any last damage to it.” Bucky tells you, finally meeting your eye again. He looked pained, but you don’t understand why. It wasn’t as though he really did lose his mark. Not like you.
For a brief few moments a burning jealousy overcomes you.
It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he should keep his and you should lose yours! You would forever be left wondering, no matter how much you healed from your ordeal, you would forever be left with the scars of it, unable to truly move past it.
You stare down at your hand again and feel the anger fuel you.
“They took everything from me. My life, my career… even love,” You wave your hand briefly before scoffing and shoving it into your lap. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. You didn’t want anybody to look at it anymore. Bucky sits quietly, face drawn into an intense scowl.
“I should hate you. I want to, believe me…” You purse your lips and shake your head, blinking away any tears that spring to your eyes. Now was not the time.
“But I can’t, ‘cause even though what they did to you was worse… You’re the only other person who understands. And I don’t have anybody else.” You shake your head again and feel the tension leave your body with your words.
It’s as if saying them out loud releases the anxiety in your bones. You feel lighter all of a sudden, the heaviness that you’d felt since gaining your freedom, the tiredness, it seems to diminish somewhat.
When you can finally bring yourself to meet his eye again, Bucky is watching you with something like sympathy, though, it feels softer than that.
“I was alone, and I thought I was fine with that.” You ball your hands into fists and let out a deep breath.
“And then you showed up.”
Bucky’s lips quirk, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it.
“Does that mean you’re no longer alone, or that you’re no longer fine with it?” He asks, and you can’t help but chortle.
“I don’t know yet.”
---
The burning question Bucky had had since he last saw you, the one he’d not known how to answer, resolves itself in the worst way possible.
He stares at the lumpy white scar on the back of your hand and feels his blood run cold. He’d been scared that you’d realised the truth, or that he’d have to tell you sooner or later, but this is far, far, worse than that.
They’d removed your soulmark.
Bucky knows they’d tried with him, remembers the searing pain, but it had never worked. With you however…
His chest aches just thinking about how you must feel. It was clear by the look on your face how much it affected you, and regardless of how you would have reacted had your soulmark been untouched, to find out he was your soulmate, Bucky wishes this were the one thing he could go back and change.
It leaves a hole deep in his chest.
But something else nags at his mind, long after he’s parted ways with you. You had no idea who you were to one another. It feels like a cruel joke played by the universe. Bucky clearly still made you uneasy, and even if you felt as though you could understand one another, that was very different to wanting to be soulmates.
No.
Bucky decides that you deserved more than a cruel joke. After everything you’d been through, you deserved true happiness.
And Bucky Barnes would rather see his soulmate happy without him, than miserable because of him.
Tumblr media
If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!
193 notes · View notes
softyoongiionly · 4 years
Text
Talk to Me in Korean (Advanced Edition)
Tumblr media
Your boyfriend’s English is basically better than yours at this point.
After an amazing birthday, he decides to use his newfound skills to get ahead and begin planning next years celebration.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Genre: established relationship au, domestic au, idol! jk, this is a part three to my other talk to me in korean installments but they don’t have to be read in order :)
A/N: Hiiii I’m back??? Hopefully??? This past month has been ROUGH (but like 2020 am I rite?) so I’ve been having a ton of writers block but as always, Jungkook has a way of pulling me out of all of the that. I’m sorry this is like my 50000th domestic jk story in a row ok??? I CANT HELP IT, ITS HIS FAULT. okiii anyway I love you, it’s 3am- this is unedited and im so sleepy. I love you again. 
Warnings: smut (18+ only plz), more so dirty talking than anything but stillll 
Fresh coffee.  
It’s the first thing Jungkook smells when his eyes peek open.  
His flush against the white cotton of the pillow that still holds the scent of your shampoo.  
He literally can’t help the grin that erupts onto his lips as he remembers exactly how the night before played out.  
As he remembers exactly where he is.  
He remembers that his members had organized a surprise dinner for his birthday party which included the finest selection of meat, veggies and various other side dishes money could buy.  
Not to mention, they ended the evening the introduction of a giant banana milk themed cake.  
Despite stuffing himself till near immobilization as well as being surrounded by his best friends, nothing could have prepared him for his final gift: you.  
The boys had flown you in from out of town and organized for your arrival in the middle of the party.  
Jungkook may have shed a few tears as nothing could have made him happier than seeing his beautiful girlfriend pushing through the doors of the venue.  
Once the boys had gone to home, Jungkook had taken you up to his room to finish off the evening with birthday sex.  
Predictable? Maybe.
Did either of you care? Absolutely not.  
It had been 3 months since the two of you had seen each other and he was nothing short of desperate for your touch.  
Now however, he’s experiencing a different kind of bliss as the smell of bacon begins to waft in through his cracked bedroom door.  
His smile broadens as he realizes very quickly that the same beautiful woman who had made his birthday so special had woken up early to make him breakfast.  
He cannot begin to imagine how lucky he is but, he plans on using his day off to show you how much he appreciates you.  
In a million different ways...
Running a hand through the raven locks on his head, he pushes himself to a sitting position. Upon doing so, he notices the faint red marks over the valleys and curves of his stomach whilst simultaneously feeling a hint of pain across the middle of his back. He smirks to himself and curiously runs the tips of his fingers over the aggravated flesh of his stomach.  
What a night...
He finally stands up, moving his body in every necessary direction to stretch out the soreness in his muscles before taking note of his current attire.  
Given the events of last night, it surprised him that he had even managed to pull on the pair of white boxer-briefs that currently adorned his figure. He assumed he had fallen asleep naked.  
Jungkook experiences a pivotal moment then, completely on his own.  
He realizes that he doesn’t want to put anything else on.  
To some people, this wouldn’t be a big deal but to Jungkook, its everything.  
When he first travelled to Seoul, he was too shy to remove his shirt in front of his hyungs, let a lone strut around the dorm in his boxers.  
But with you, he’s finally starting to realize that not only is he comfortable with you but, he has a massive desire to express that to you.  
He wants you to have parts of him that no one else has.  
He wants you to know that you’re the only one who gets him this way.  
Without the fancy clothes, the layers of makeup, the band aids on his tattoos, the carefully scripted words and persona...
That you alone have all of him.  
He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his hair once again as he picks on himself for making such a big deal out of something so small.
But he knows that you’d get it and that quickly squashes any of his desire to make fun of himself.  
As he approaches his bedroom door, he feels the ghost of nerves directly in the pit of his stomach.  
Why was he nervous? You’ve literally seen him naked before.
He’s been inside of you more times than he can count so why was he overthinking going out to greet his girlfriend in his boxers?
He rolls his eyes at himself, “Because you’re weird, that’s why...” He mutters to himself before finally pushing open the door.  
His kitchen is off to the left, slightly tucked behind a bit of wall and he is annoyed with the layout of his apartment because he is getting in the way of immediately seeing your pretty face.  
When he does see you however, it’s entirely worth the wait.  
You’ve got a portable speaker set up a safe distance away from your work station emitting a bit of soothing music throughout the kitchen along with a pot of fresh coffee on the island with his favorite Iron Man mug sitting right next to it, awaiting his arrival. There’s a few pans on the stovetop sizzling with various breakfast items that Jungkook doesn’t care to notice at first because his eyes are far too concerned with you.  
And boy does he desperately wish that this was his daily life...
Your wear minimal clothing as well but there are fuzzy socks on your feet and a bit of bedhead adorning your crown and that’s really all that he needs to see to conclude that you are the most fantastic thing to ever grace the planet.  
“G’morning...” He nearly mumbles, placing a hand on the counter.
He ensures his voice is soft enough not to startle you and thankfully his presence emits nothing more but a smile from your lips.
You turn towards him with the same smile, eyes raking over his body shamelessly before returning his greeting, “Good morning birthday boy. Did you sleep ok?”
He chuckles lightly, his head cocking to the side in confusion, “My birthday was...yesterday yeah?”
Your smile grows at his question as you make your way over to the sleepy man before you.
“It was.” You concede and as you near his figure, you slide your hands around his waist, “But I wasn’t with you the whole day so, I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
Immediately, he grins boyishly his capable hands sliding up your body to pull you flush against his.
“But you already gave me so many presents...” He insists, leaning towards your lips, “Remember last night?”
You take a moment to admire how good his English has gotten and silently applaud him for managing to lead such an incredibly busy life and learn a second language all at the same time. You try your best not to vocalize your praise to often though because you know how shy it makes him.  
Before you can answer, he presses his lips to yours, humming gently in his throat and promptly smiling into your mouth.  
As you indulge in him for a moment your fingers gently brush the tan skin across his back. Your touch sends a shiver up your boyfriends back which then gives you no choice but to return the smile present in your kiss.
“Duh...” You murmur which prompts a delighted chuckle to escape his mouth, “How could I forget? You were like superman last night with all that stamina...”
Your observation causes your boyfriend to frown playfully as he points to the mug sitting atop the counter.
“Not superman- Iron Man.” He insists, still holding you close, the warmth of his presence infecting you.  
With a snort, you pull back slightly to catch the glint in his eyes, “I don’t know how me comparing you to Ironman would make much sense babe but, if you want to be Iron Man then how am I to deny you?”
Jungkook smirks, already satisfied with his response before he’s even uttered it.
“I’m like Iron Man because he is a machine...” He wiggles his brows at you, “...and so am I.”
After the look of incredulity that crosses your face, you have no choice but to laugh, leaning slightly away from him to indicate that you have to head back to your breakfast before it burns.
“Alright fair enough-” You concede, still giggling a bit as his grip tightens on your body, his own beautiful smile still present on his mouth, “I gotta finish cooking, or else we’re gonna have burnt bacon for breakfast.”
He shrugs, unimpressed as he uses his inhuman strength to hug you tighter,  “Bacon is bacon.”
This prompts more laughter as he reluctantly walks to the stove with you, your body still encased in his grip.
“I can’t cook with your mega muscles constricting my arms-” You point out, craning your neck slightly to try and meet his gaze, a ghost of a smile on your lips, which is still locked onto a mixture of mischief and joy.
With a furrowed brow he leans in slowly before pecking your lips quickly and finally releasing you, “What is constricting?”
His question is asked from near the coffee pot, his hands gingerly moving his mug closer to him.
He is VERY careful with this particular mug.
“Constricting is like when you squeeze something really really tight-” You explain softly, taking the now well-done strips of bacon out of the pan before laying them on some paper towels.
He’s pouring himself a cup of coffee, his eyes narrowed in focus as he nods, “Ohhh ok- you mean like how snakes do?”
“Yeah exactly!” You smile brightly, turning towards him with encouragement on your face, “that’s why we call certain kinds of snakes constrictors because that’s how they kill their pray. Honestly, it wasn’t the best word choice on my part because, people definitely use the word squeeze more but-”
He shakes his head then, his eyes still focusing on preparing his cup of coffee, “It doesn’t matter- you taught me another new word without even trying to.” He assures you before a cocky smirk comes across his face, “I bet I know more words than Namjoon-hyung now...”
His comment makes you laugh as his competitiveness is something you adore despite the fact that you don’t fully understand it.
“Oh for sure, you probably know more words than I do honestly, with how often you practice.”  
Jungkook smiles broadens at your praise, his eyes finally flitting up towards you, “Probably.”
He laughs along with you now, the sound of your giggling sending warmth into his heart as he brings the mug to his lips.
“You’re a brat.” You point out simply, still smiling because you literally do nothing else with this kid as you begin to fry up the last batch of bacon.
Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist whilst his nose burrows playfully into your neck, “Noooo an angel.”
Snorting again, you pretend his lips near such a sensitive area doesn’t affect you as you continue with your current task, “An angel? What on Earth would make you think that?”
Your teasing prompts a bout of snickering to leave his lips as he hugs you tighter to him, the soft scent of his hair sending a wave of comfort through you.
“You call me a good boy all the time...”
Although his comment is meant to be innocent, the way he intentionally lowers his tone causes your thighs to press together.
“I do,” You admit, trying to keep it together as you crack a few eggs into an awaiting pan, “I don’t know if that makes you an angel though.”
Jungkook senses the change in your voice and rather then shy away from the direction the conversation is heading, he decides to go with it.  
“That’s true-” He murmurs and it’s then you can feel the smirk against the curve of your neck, “Especially since you only call me that when I’m making you cum huh?”
This causes your eyes to grow wide and given that your flirtatious boyfriend is staring at you already, there is no way for you to hide it.
So instead you play along, enjoying this new side of him more than you care to admit.
“Exactly.” You mutter, giggling to yourself as you feel a bit of heat on your cheeks, “Go set the table or something- you're going to make me burn the kitchen down.”
With a cheeky giggle, he seems satisfied with his mission to fluster you, placing a kiss to your cheek and rushing off to do as you’ve asked him to.
Breakfast passes without any more of Jungkook’s reckless behavior and you’re thankful for it because, you sincerely doubt that you’d be able to focus on your plate when you have a foul-mouthed buffet sitting across from you.
Jungkook insists on helping you clean up whilst also reminding you once again that his birthday was yesterday and that he doesn’t want any more special treatment.
All he wants is to be with you today.
You honor his request by sitting up a massive mountain of pillows and blankets in his living room and situating yourselves in front of his flat screen.
With the curtains closed and the scent of Jungkook’s sea breeze candle wafting throughout the room, the two of you begin watching a movie together.  
However, halfway through the movie, the plans begin to morph into something else entirely.
Armed with newly found confidence, your boyfriend begins kissing you, his hands making their way towards your hips.
The pace of your breathing picks up rather quickly when he suckles your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling against the swollen flesh.
“For my birthday- next year...” He whispers into your mouth, eyes fluttering open as he nudges your nose, “I want to kiss you all day.”
His request causes you to smile, your hands slowly sliding up his neck to tuck into the hair at the back of his head, “Whatever you want.”
Your response causes his eyes to sparkle with mischief once more, delighted at how willing you are to give him whatever he wants, “Oh- it’s whatever I want hm? Just like that?”
The way he’s speaking to you makes you a little light headed and rather than try to reign back his bout of authority, you decide to run with it, “Just like that.”
Your response is spoken into his mouth, the kiss between you breaking so he can maneuver you onto your back. For a moment, he braces his hands on either side of your head, his perfect body hovering over you, with only the long strands of his hair and the thin silver chains around his neck reaching for you.  
“What if-” He grins before grinding his hips against you, the swollen bit of his boxers rubbing against your clothed core, “I wanted to be in here all day? Would you let me?”
Through the waves of pleasure, your eyes squeeze shut for a moment before you nod, your fingers beginning to wander up the outsides of his forearms.
“Whatever you want...”
His grin is stable but the pace of his breathing is quickening, indicating his excitement.
He wants more out of this conversation though and decides to press you further.  
“Would you let me put my face down there all day too? You wouldn’t have to cook for me if you did...” He points out before his grin morphs into a smirk as he leans down towards your lips, “I’d get full off your pussy wouldn’t I?”
The switch in languages also indicates his level of arousal as his mentioned before that English is far more difficult when he’s wrapped up in his emotions or in this case, his desires.  
Using your nails, you lightly tickle your way up to shoulders tugging playfully to see if he’ll come to lay down on you fully but he doesn’t budge. He merely chuckles and grinds against you once again.
“Patience...” He parrots a phrase that you often utter to him when roles are reversed in the bedroom and the glimmer in his eyes informs you that he is eating up your reaction to him.
“But I want you...” You whine to him, hoping his thing for hearing you speak his language will be enough to break his resolve but he isn’t ready to give in just yet.
“That’s too bad jagiya, I’m not finish planning my birthday just yet.” Jungkook whines mockingly in return, the innocent curls framing his face contradicting his salacious demeanor, “I want to know how many marks you’d leave on me- maybeeeeee...” He draws out the word as his teeth tuck into his bottom lip, “25? One for every year of my birthday?”
Since attempting to tug him down didn’t work out, you decide to wrap your legs around his waist to further some sort of contact between you two.  
“Twenty five? Your stylists would kill me...” You point out giggling, pushing your now damp panties against the swell of his length beneath his boxers.  
Rather cockily, Jungkook snorts and leans down once again to brush his lips over yours, “I don’t give a fuck what the noonas say, they know how to cover me up and, even if they can’t- people are just gonna have to deal with it.” Another smirk forms on his mouth before he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, “it would be really hard for them if they fired me don’t you think?”
You gotta admit, his new found attitude is turning you on. It’s not like Jungkook to be so cocky, despite the way some people may think and although you know for a fact that he’s putting it on for you, you have no problem sucking it up anyway.  
“Definitely. BigHit would have hell to pay...” You concede, your words slightly muffled due to the current location of your bottom lip. Once more your hands tangle their way into his hair and you take advantage of this position to kiss him, hoping that will be enough to convince him to drop the teasing.  
He kisses you back with enthusiasm, his lower body relaxing slightly as more and more of him presses against you.  
“You’re wet.”  He whispers, his eyes still closed whilst he continues to peck at your bottom lip, “Are you ready for my dick now?”  
With his inquiry, he grinds against you once more, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine.  Your surprised that he spoke the second sentence in English as he usually would have switched fully to Korean at this point.  
“Namjoon’s really been rubbing off on you lately...”  
This insignificant comment lights a fire in Jungkook’s chest and prompts him to quickly pin your wrists above your head. His features hold a bit of disapproval but, mostly they hold that competitive look that is so uniquely Jungkook.  
That “I’m going to win just to show you how good I am” kind of look.
“Why does everyone assume that Namjoon is the most perverted huh? Just cause he talks about it the most? He writes a few dirty lyrics and talks about porn and suddenly he’s the only one who wants to fuck? Jagiya- do you want to know why I look so distracted all the time?” He giggles in an almost maniacal fashion, a dark smirk prominent on his lips as he cocks his head, “It’s because I’m usually thinking about fucking you. Everyone always thinks I’m so shy- so innocent, but you’d let them know huh jagi?  You’d let them know how fucking dirty I am wouldn’t you? I don’t think ARMY could handle it if they knew the truth...” Jungkook offers that same type of laughter once again before kissing you once more, “Now answer my question- are you ready for my dick now?”
His words and behavior stun you a little bit but mostly it just sends more arousal to your core and ruins your odds of putting these pair of panties back on when the two of you are done.  
“Yes sir...” You giggle, saluting him playfully as you wrap your legs around his waist again, “I’m so ready for you- please? Can I have it?”  
Your pleas work immediately on your boyfriend, who is already struggling with his level of arousal and before you know it, he is fucking both you of you into orgasmic bliss.  
It’s over too quickly but it’s the kind of fuck that you know it going to prompt a round two.
Or maybe even a round three or four if you’re lucky...
Jungkook’s head is on your chest now, his arms hugging you tightly to his body, his post-orgasmic glow riding him of any of his previously cocky attitude.  
“I like this.” He murmurs, licking his chapped lips and nuzzling between your breasts.
You smile fondly down at him, “Cuddling?”
He shakes his head, his eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Not just cuddling- but you, being here, at my house with me.”
With a kiss to his forehead, you use your free hand to brush his hair from his eyes, “I like being here with you too.”
There is a bit of color that finds it’s way to Jungkook’s cheeks as he utters a suggestion, “You should stay here with me. I will move my stuff around for you...”
It’s such a simple notion and yet it nearly moves you to tears but before you’re able to breach the topic further, his eyes fully close as he relaxes his weight completely.  
Without clarity regarding whether or not he can hear you, you utter your response into his hair,
“Sounds good, roomie.”
1K notes · View notes
deathvsthemaiden · 3 years
Note
Do you have any advice for ppl who’ve been in a reading slump since... 5 ever ? i love reading somehow it’s just harder to get into it these days :(
Omg for sure!! Here is a scrambled little list, I hope at least some of it helps:
📖 read in any format (ebook, physical book, audiobook) bc they’re all valid and make reading more accessible for people which is I think part of why ppl get hoity toity abt it. Ignore them. Also, I assume that if you wanna read, at least a large chunk of why is because you wanna have fun and consume stories yes? 😳 you can do that w/ any form of book, and any other reasons you might have to want to read, like expanding vocab or broadening ur horizons or learning to analyze books should be secondary. Focus on making it a fun and near-effortless/painless thing again and then u can graduate to those (I think that’ll come naturally tbh as long as you read semi-consistently) Fun comes First and I say that as a terrible English major 😗
📖 And with that in mind, read whatever you want, even if it’s simple or cringe or a reread or whatever because after completing the first few impulsive reads that you find engaging enough to finish completely, you can worry about reading what you think you “should” or what would benefit you specifically if that makes sense. Like I’m completely pro reading new things and not limiting urself to 1 genre but there’s no harm in taking your time moving onto things that don’t immediately pique ur interest. Get into the groove of things first, the criticism of ppl who are well past the target age market for YA but still exclusively consume it doesn’t apply to people who are trying to rediscover their love of reading imo.
📖 keep books nearby all the time! (All!!! The time!!!!) You might not actually read them 45/50 times that you bring them with you to places/keep them near you wherever u spend time at your house, but those 5 times will be bliss and you’ll thank yourself! Do it! Especially if ur open to ebooks and can read them on ur phone!
📖 put your phone somewhere far away on mute and force yourself to read for a specific chunk of pages or time. Very old person-ish advice but like. They’re onto smth when they tell us to do stuff like that, but they’re also way too smug and holier-than-thou about it so no need to tell any of them that! 🤫 but seriously be honest w/ urself if u have a compulsive notification checking problem and challenge yourself to overcome it long enough to meet a very small teensy tiny goal 🥅
📖 I juggle a lot of books at once and I’m constantly planning ahead in my brain when I do it, without consciously meaning to (library deadlines for digitized books are so strict 💔) And often I don’t end up following these plans perfectly, because following them perfectly isn’t the point, especially since life happens all the time and isn’t often very receptive when we wish we could forget everything and read for several straight hours. Reading shouldn’t be a burden, but the vague guidelines help. I think stuff like “tomorrow I’ll finish this poetry collection before bed” or “I’m gonna study and then read 2 chapters of this novel I’m rlly digging as a treat before continuing,” “I’m gonna listen to 4 chapters of this audiobook while I take a walk or do chores” etc etc. and usually I end up reading at least a little! And the best thing is when I read more than intended because the book is just that fun. I don’t write these plans down, but if it helps you to do so I urge you to anon :0 !! Just remember ur writing them on paper/a screen and not in stone, so you can always be flexible and change things around and you’re not by any means a failure for doing so. To be flexible w/ urself is most likely to ensure long term progress imo!
📖 speaking of juggling it’s absolutely fine to cycle through a ton of books and sometimes abandon them for months and come back when the whim strikes! If your memory is good enough and you prefer having a bunch of variety at all times, jump from book to book with reckless abandon! It legit doesn’t matter. Also don’t ever hesitate to drop a book if you’re not vibing it’s not worth it. Time is precious life is precious you’re doing this for fun, yes? Drop the book if you can’t bring yourself to care theres sooooo many more where it came from! Be merciless and picky!! It will pay off I promise, and to be that way is not antithetical to challenging yourself or stepping outside of your comfort zone unless you make it that way.
📖 buddy read/have an impromptu book club w/ someone. It doesn’t have to be official, and I’ve done this multiple times with people and sometimes we just don’t finish the book/meet our set goals and that’s a-okay! It’s still worth it to have someone to talk abt the book w/ and you guys can always pick up where you left off or try another book. Literally no stakes at all as long as everyone involved is chill and understanding <3
📖 set a reading goal you think you can manage by the end of the year! You might surprise yourself 😳 and if you don’t oh well! You’ll still have read at least a page in pursuit of said goal 🔎
📖 read short stories! The internet is full of them, and short story collections by multiple and singular authors are everywhere 📚
📖 do some searching and make a list of books that you’re extremely excited to read or really wanna revisit. And then pick your next reads from there! If you want recs for books or short stories you can always shoot me another ask or look at my goodreads (or goodreads in general)
242 notes · View notes
polnareffenjoyer · 3 years
Note
Uh unsure how many characters you’re willing to write for but can I have the SDC crew reacting to seeing their crush’s sketchbook filled with drawings and silly comics of them? On the case you do have a limit on how many, then I’m fine with either Polnareff, Kakoyin, Jotaro or Avdol (who can pick whoever if you want to!) Hope you’re having a lovely day!💕💕
This is such a cute idea anon, hope you like it. Also I don't really have a character limit, I wanted to do all of the crusaders but then I got tired and it already took me such a long time to finish it and ahhh. Sorry for all the grammatical errors, English is not my first language and it's already so late when I'm finishing it and it's just bleh. I hope you like it anyways, sending much love to you anon! ♥️
Stardust Crusaders finding their crushes' sketchbook
Jotaro Kujo
He notices that you've been spending most of your free time drawing in that sketchbook of yours. Truth be told, it bothers him a lot. Jotaro has had a big fat crush on you for a while now, and he secretly longs for your company. He can't admit that tho, he has a hard ass bad boy reputation to maintain after all. What would people say if the saw him all flustered for a girl? The fact that you would rather sit by yourself and draw than be around him and the others bugs him. So one day, when you're busy with something else, he takes your beloved sketchbook and decides to see what's in there. He knows he's being creepy, but he couldn't care less. Just trying to get to know you better, without actually talking to you. Exactly.
He's very flustered but would rather die than admit it. Has read through all of it, admiring every single little drawing. After he's done, he'll just put it back where he found it, it the exact same place just so you don't notice someone has been messing with it. You probably have no idea he had seen your sketchbook at first, but you surely notice the blush dusting his cheeks whenever he speaks to you from that day on. Probably avoids you for a little while because he's so flustered.
The rest of the crew also notices something is off, Jotaro is always lost in thoughts and smokes more frequently. He can't keep himself from thinking about those cute drawings of yours, reading through your comics was a true delight. It fills him with glee to know that HE, among all of the crusaders, is the one who's the main character in your stories. It makes him giddy on the inside.
His secret eventually comes to light one night, he accidentally admits to having read through your comics while a late night talk between the whole group. While you were talking, Kakyoin had brought up the topic of your sketchbook. Now it's your turn to be embarassed, blushing crimson while trying to get as much information out of him as possible. How much did he see? Did he read through ALL OF THEM?
The rest of the crusaders are shocked at first, but quickly they start to laugh at the scene. Jotaro is reluctant to give any information, but he eventually tells you that yes, indeed, he's seen EVERYTHING. However, doesn't admit what the content of the sketchbook really is. Despite everything, he would never embarass you like that.
After everyone goes to sleep, you catch Jotaro before he has a chance to fall asleep, lying on his sleeping bag while looking at the night sky. You want to apologize, say anything, just to talk to him, but you're unable to find right words. He just sighs.
"Yare yare daze, there's no need to be embarassed [Y/N], I'm not mad"
Your eyes light up at his words. You want to say something, anything, thank him, but before you get a chance to do so, Jotaro's deep voice cuts you off.
"To be honest, I think your drawings are amazing. I really liked them" you notice his face is slightly tinted red from underneath his cap "But if you wanted me to model for you, you could've just said so"
With that, he rolls over and away from you. Completely baboozled, you roll over as well and try to sleep, or at least pretend to be asleep. Honestly, neither of you had slept much that night.
Kakyoin Noriaki
Kakyoin had a thing for you since you joined the crusaders, and your sketchbook is probably the very first thing he had noticed about you. He's always been interested in art, his parents had signed him up to numerous art courses and whatnot through his life. He's always loved drawing and painting, using it as an escape from his daily problems, and seeing that you two might have something in common makes him incredibly happy, especially since he has feelings for you.
He'll try to approach you about your sketchbook very subtely, afraid that he might scare you away by being too pushy. Of course you get extremely flustered everytime he brings it up, but it doesn't discourage him. Kakyoin respects your boundaries and understands that you might not be ready to show him your drawings yet. Despite that, he's always willing to share his knowledge with you. He'll give you advices about proper shading while you two are waiting in the hotel lobby for the rest of the group to finish up picking rooms. During a long car ride, he'll talk to you about his favourite artists. If you want him to show you how to put certain shading techniques into practice, he'll be more than happy to do so. He'll just pick a random piece of paper and start drawing on it, you might want to lean in closer and maybe put your head on his shoulder to get a better look? He has no objections! Just sayin.
When he eventually gets to see your sketchbook, this man is so honored! He didn't mean to look, at first he though it was just some book lying around and wanted to take a look inside, out off boredom. Once he realizes what he's reading at, his face flushes with crimson. Your sketchbook is filled with sketches of him? This whole time you were actually drawing him, out of all people? He couldn't be more grateful that no one else was around, if someone saw him reading through your comics with this stupid smile on his face and red cheeks, they would've though he went mad.
Kakyoin wastes no time trying to find you. For a moment, he thinks that perhaps he should've waited a bit, just to get you alone and not embarass you infront of the whole crew. He can't think straight though, his mind filled with your cute little drawings, with his face drawn with black pen over and over again. With glee, he notes that you had used the very techniques he had told you about earlier. If you had drawn him so many times, does it mean that you have a crush on him too? It's too good to be true.
"[Y/N]! Can I talk with you for a minute?"
He goes to confront you immediately. Others give him a puzzled look, but he couldn't care less. He grabs your arms and leads you away.
"Don't be mad [Y/N], but I've seen your sketchbook and I have to say, I think your art is beyond amazing!"
You're at loss of words, your face red and you could swear that you've never felt so embarassed in your whole entire life. However, his reaction is making you feel a bit better. He's not mad, nor is he making fun of you. If anything, he seems enamoured.
"Please, [Y/N], we should draw together! Maybe next time we have a chance, I should paint your portrait?"
Despite the awkwardness, the whole situation turns out amazing in the end. How he's sure you must have feelings for him, and it makes him incredibly happy, hoping that one day, after your crusade is done, he'll get a chance to repay you and make that promised portrait.
Muhammad Avdol
With everything that's been happening lately, Avdol gets a little bit distracted from you. Before he would steal glances your way all the time, watching with curiosity as you would draw something in your sketchbook. Recently, he's been too busy fighting enemy stand users and... well, trying not to die. He still cares about you a lot and watches over you during fights, ready to shield you from danger with his own body, if it's what it takes to keep you safe.
It probably happens because of a mishap. While you are deciding on your rooming, you leave your sketchbook lying next to Avdol's things and go to the bathroom. After he's done helping Joseph with translating and getting everything done, he goes back and assumes that it's just one of his books that has fallen out of the bag. Not thinking much of it, he picks it up and leaves with Mrs Joestar to settle in their shared room.
You can imagine the panic and shock that nearly paralyzes you once you notice that your beloved sketchbook is gone, nowhere to be seen, reduced to atoms! You begin to look around frantically, looking under the furniture while sweating profusely. Other quests give you weird looks, but you don't even notice them staring. Polnareff is one of them, he asks if you're okay and tries to calm you down, but to no avail. After he leaves, you try to focus really hard and try to remember - when did you see it last time? It was on that chair for sure when you left. God, you can only pray that it doesn't end up in Avdol's hands somehow...
Meanwhile, Avdol is getting ready for shower and goes through his bag. He notices the book he picked up from the lobby isn't even a book, but a sketchbook! Now he's sure he must've picked it up by mistake, he decides it would be best to put it down and not look through it. It's someone's very personal art after all, it would be very disrespectful to - wait a damn minute, is that HIM?
Long story short, he goes through a good portion of your drawings before Joseph comes out of the shower and gives him a puzzled look, seeing how his eyes are literally shinning with adoration. He puts your sketchbook back into his bag, acting as if nothing happened and continues on with his nightly routine. Later on, when Joseph is already fast asleep, he contemplates about whether or not he should go to your room right now and ask about the sketchbook he had found. He's already suspecting it's yours, whose else would it be? He has seen you drawing often, could it be that you returned his feelings and had spent your time sketching him? Ultimately, he decides to wait until tomorrow to find out.
The very next day, he knocks on your door early in the morning. It startles you awake, running up to your door to look through a peephole, seeing a muscular man on the other side. Sighing heavily, you unlock the door and open it just a little bit.
"Excuse my intrusion, [Y/N], but I have found something that I think belongs to you."
Now that's embarassing. You see your sketchbook in his hand, a wide, knowing smile on his face. He knows it's yours. All it took is one look at your stupid red face to figure it out. God, he can read you like an open book, can't he? While you reach out to take it from him, your fingers touch just slightly.
"Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone about this" she winked at you, which almost made you gasp "If anything, I think I should maybe pose for you in private? So you can get a better look? You should think about it..."
Who would've thought this man could be such a flirt sometimes...
Jean Pierre Polnareff
You better watch out, because if this man has a crush on you, you bet he would go above and beyond to find out what's inside that sketchbook. I'm not joking. He forgets what personal space is, he's even worse that Jotaro, because while JoJo would make sure to be sneaky, Polnareff wouldn't even bother. He'll try to catch a sneak peak by looking over your shoulder while you're drawing, constantly asking you questions about art related things, everything always leading to your sketchbook.
He wants to know what's inside. Simple as that. You're like an enigma to him, I feel like all women are mysteries to him and he always works towards finding out what their secrets are. You are especially interesting to him, because of how secretive you are with your art. He's captivated, and while he never had any interest in arts himself, he had always fancied himself as a man with a great sense of beauty. That being said, he's always trying to get your attention while talking about how "France is a wonderful country for artists! You should come and visit after our crusade is over, [Y/N]! I'll show you all the greatest museums and art galleries!"
He's like a puppy, following you around and being just a bit too pushy. If you tell him you feel uncomfortable, he'll back off of course. He's not just some juvenile pervert after all! He's a honourable man who would never touch or bother a woman without her permission, no matter how desperate he seems sometimes.
When he finally sees your sketchbook, it's probably because he did it on purpose and not because of an accident. He wanted to make sure that it was him your were capturing in your drawing, and boy was he happy when he saw what's inside! It's all him, cute little sketches, little comics, it's better that he could've ever imagined! He's literally crying the tears of joy while reading them. Before it was all just wishful thinking, but now it turns out to be true! He's honoured, admiring every single little drawing with hit tears streaming down his face. He must look pathetic right now, if anyone was around they would think the was a mad man. He gets up and runs away with your sketchbook in his hand, trying to find you.
"[Y/N]! Ma cherie! Mon coeur! My love, my life! We need to talk!"
Did i mention that he doesn't shy away from nicknames? Yeah.
It's probably the worst confrontation compared to the rest of them, he's not subtle like Kakyoin and decides to talk with you about your drawings right then and there, in front of everyone. At first they're surprised, looking at Polnareff as is he was crazy, but slowly their shock is replaced with amusement. Joseph doesn't even try to hold back his laughter, while the rest of the crew is trying to keep it cool as not to embarass you any further while the Frenchman is just going on and on with his declarations of undying love. It's a bit dramatic, one of these moments that you will probably laugh about in the future, but you felt like disappearing right then and there.
"Your drawing are magnifique! [Y/N], my love, if you wanted to draw me, you could've just said so! Although I don't think I deserve to be potrayed by you, to be drawn by your skilled hands, ma cherie!"
You snatch the sketchbook from him. After that incident you probably try to avoid him, but he won't give up! He's more determined than ever, knowing that you feel the same way as he does fills him with hope, hope for a future life with you that is! He won't give up until he makes you the happiest woman on earth.
296 notes · View notes
peach-and-bugs · 2 years
Text
💜Passing Notes - Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader (she/they pronouns)💜 Modern High school teacher Au
Ch 1 💜Chapter 14💜Ch 15
Fanfiction master list
Tumblr media
Summary: y/n had no intention of becoming a Westview resident again, but here they are, moving into their parents’ old home and taking a job as an English teacher at their old high school. While these sudden changes hadn’t been part of y/n’s life plan, what they really didn’t expect was to come face to face with the former graduate that her Musical performances had always been compared to during high school, Agatha Harkness. They also didn’t expect this older woman to take such an interest in her, despite y/n distant demeanor. (Two former Westview leading ladies turned high school teachers develop an interesting relationship over their first school year together)
Warnings: alcohol consumption
Word count: 3,275
A/N: Hello again, loves!💜 I'm back from my break and happy to be posting. We're getting into some holiday shenanigans, which I'm very excited to write about. I would like to preface that I'm trying to keep things as neutral as I can, but I think a lot of the winter activities are likely going to be pretty "Christmas" since that's what I celebrate and know.
I also hope you all don't mind that I named y/n's family. I wasn't sure how people feel about that, but I'm not personally bothered by it in other fics. But for now, it's domestic cooking time! Besides that, I hope you enjoy and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💜
Tag List: @danvers97 @romanottsmaximoff @500daysofmarissa
-💜-
You decided that Halloween was now your new favorite holiday just because of that brief moment you had shared. After returning home with the ice, you settled in next to Darcy to watch the rest of the Shining with Agatha close beside you. She’d sneakily slipped her hand into yours and held on tight for the rest of the evening as you exchanged warm glances with one another. You felt her squeeze your hand whenever she got startled by the film, and you had done the same.
Once November rolled around, your schedule suddenly flooded more than you ever would have expected. Apparently, your seniors liked you more than you thought they did and now you had three college recommendation papers to work on. This wasn’t a huge deal, but you had to focus to get them finished. Fortunately, it wasn't as hard as you thought and they got done relatively quickly.
Unfortunately, this also meant that Agatha had been extra busy in the past few weeks. Nearly every senior had her at some point during their secondary education, and, all of them seemed to agree that she would be a perfect candidate for a senior rec letter. You’d planned on a date together earlier in the week, but with another three papers added on to her pile, she had regretfully canceled on you, which you completely understood. You still couldn’t help being a little disappointed.
It was a Friday, coming into school and you found a familiar note on your desk that had you smiling as you sip your coffee.
Hello Darling,
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I wound be coming in today -
You frowned, looking up from the note. You strained your neck to try and peak through her office and into her classroom through the ajar door. Sure enough, you caught sight of a sub milling about her classroom and writing their name on the whiteboard. You sighed and read the note once more.
I truly have missed your company these past few evenings. But, once these letters are finished and the holiday rush has passed, I promise that I’m all yours.
- Agatha H. ❤︎
Sure, the note had been short and likely unnecessary, but you couldn’t help grin at the gesture behind it. Did she have to write the note at all? No, of course, she didn’t. She could have called or texted you the exact message. But somehow it felt special, the way she took the time to write a little message for you.
You smiled, wrinkling your nose. Little things like this from Agatha made you feel like a teenager again. For a long time, that didn’t feel possible. But here you were, giddy as a schoolgirl all because of a note from your-
You hesitated then. What was Agatha to you? You hadn’t been dating long now. It had only been a few months and you counted four dates. You leaned back on your desk, holding onto the note as you but the inside of your cheek. Could you consider Agatha your girlfriend now? Or was that something you needed to talk about? It felt like a topic of conversation, but in past relationship’s your partner at some point assumed you were their girlfriend.
You grimace now as your previously good mood was spoiled by your own overthinking. You moved off of your desk and put the note back where you had found it, tucked beneath your other papers. You needed to print some files before class, so you took your coffee along with you as you mulled over the soup of thoughts flowing through your brain.
In her note, Agatha had mentioned the upcoming holiday season, which brought back a thought you had but quickly shot down. You already had your winter break plans all laid out, except for a few loose ends, but that wasn’t a problem. Darcy would be along with you like she always was, but what if you invited Agatha along too? As far as you knew, Darcy wouldn’t mind, honestly, she’d be thrilled to embarrass you in front of your family by teasing you about your new girlfriend? (You still didn’t know how the word “girlfriend” felt).
You also had no idea what Agatha’s plans might be. Maybe she had planned some foreign getaway months in advance and she’s shut you down before you could even ask her! You rethought that as you opened the door to the teacher’s lounge, relieved to be alone. Thinking realistically, Agatha would never “shut down” anything you had to say. At least, not in a disrespectful way.
You sighed heavily, finishing your coffee as you began making your coffee. You know you were overthinking all of this, which was silly. Even if she couldn’t or didn’t want to spend the winter break with you, she’d tell you nicely.
“You know, y/n, the only way that you will ever know is if you suck it up and ask her yourself,” you finally mumbled to yourself. You shook your head and took a deep breath as the copier beeped and scanned your papers. Right then you made the decision, you’d ask her, regardless of what her response may or may not be.
-*-
You began to rethink your approach as you now stood on her front porch with a bag of unprepared food tightly in hand. Maybe she had already eaten, you questioned, checking the time.
“Stop freaking out, it’s only four,” you hissed through your teeth, running your fingers through your hair to flatten any loose bits. You felt yourself starting to fidget and know if you kept standing here, staring at her door, you'd eventually flake out. So, with that in mind and a sudden rush of anxious adrenaline, your hand shot out and rang the doorbell before you could run away.
Now, you stood on her porch with bowling anxiety in your belly. You must look like a girl scout preparing to sell their first box of cookies, you thought. The idea made you blush with embarrassment. You occupied your mind with the speech you had planned all day and practiced in the car. Repeating the words helped you relax some. Only for all of the mellow energy to fly out the window as soon as the door opened.
“Well hello, hun! I wasn’t expecting you,” Agatha said with a bright smile. She leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms as she watched you with an expectant look in her eyes. It took you a moment to despond, as you were distracted by her glasses and messy bun, as well as her never before seen casual wear. You blinked and laughed nervously.
“Sorry, I meant to call,” you murmured. “I got your note this morning and I missed you, so I grabbed something to cook and came over,” you babbled, only now realizing how weird you might look. You felt your face go bright red and cursed you ill planning.
“I hope that’s alright. If not I can come another time-” you began only for her to let out a warm laugh and shake her head.
“You’re cute, you know that?” she interrupted you, which quickly stopped any more words from formulating in your brain. She moved forward and took the grocery bag from your hands, her free hand gripping your bicep as she planted a quick kiss on your cheek. You felt like you might keel over right on the spot, due to your heart hammering as loudly as it was. “Come on in,” she said finally, her shiny smile being the only thing you could focus on at the moment as you blindly followed her into the house.
Once you finally grounded yourself, you could fully appreciate her decorative eye. Her home had a vintage, yet Victorian air to it. Most of the wood looked as though it was original and well cared for over the years. Her furniture wasn’t part of any pre-bought set, yet it matched each other and the vibe of the room perfectly.
“Feel free to hang up your things by the door. And take off your shoes, if you'd like,” Agatha called from where you assumed was the kitchen. You did as you were offered, hanging up your coat and scarf, followed by spilling of your shoes. You padded through the house with your sock feet as you went to find her, admiring the stairway banister as you traveled.
You did found her in the kitchen, which was bright and tiled with many accents of green scattered all around. She had young herbs growing on the windowsills and old ones hanging out to dry, which gave the room an overwhelming earthly scent. You noted that she had one of those ceiling racks that had some of her pans and skillets hanging over the island counter like a chandelier.
Fresh light streamed through the white curtains that drape over the window seat of a breakfast nook, tucked in the back of the kitchen. Agatha had laid out all of the ingredients you had grabbed at the grocery and observed them curiously like she was trying to figure out what you were making.
“It's a salmon pasta dish my mom taught me to make,” you interrupted her as she happened to be holding the fish. She looked up at you and smiled, arching her brow.
“Sounds interesting,” she said simply and you smiled back. She put down the fish and leaned forward on the counter, crossing her arms as she studied you. “What’s got you thinking about me?” she asked unprompted. You crinkled your nose as you smiled and you shrugged with a playful air.
“I dunno. Maybe I’ve been thinking about you because I haven't seen you recently and I was very touched by the note you left,” you offered her. She hummed with a grin.
“So you've missed me,” she translated. You laughed and rolled your eyes.
“Fine, yes, I missed you,” you offered her. “I missed you, and now I want to cook something for you because you've been working too much,” Agatha continued to smile and wordlessly leaned off of the counter and walked around to your side of the counter. You watched her the whole time and naturally wrapped your arms around her shoulders as hers came close enough to snake around your waist. She gazed into your eyes for a moment before she leaned in, and you eagerly accepted her company.
Kissing Agatha felt like a fire had been lit in your belly. Her touch was so warm, bordering on hot, yet she wasn’t demanding or overbearing. She was soft and gentle and she felt like yours. It was exciting, yet terrifying at the same time. Almost like she was a risk that you were taking.
You pulled away from the kiss and her lips began to trail down your jaw, then your neck. You relaxed into the feeling as her hands squeezed your hips. A long sigh fell from your lips, only to turn into a yelp as you felt her bite down on the attachment between your neck and shoulder. She pulled away with a laugh as you gently smacked her shoulder, but laughed along with her nonetheless.
“I missed you too if you didn’t notice,” she murmured. You bit your bottom lip as you smiled before you pecked her lips again and moved towards the laid-out ingredients. You began to organize the food around you as Agatha watched. “What do you need,” she asked, moving towards her assorted pots and pans.
“A skillet for the salmon and cream sauce, and then a pot for the pasta. Also a strainer,” you listed. “And a cutting board,” you quickly added, realizing you needed something to cut the fish on. Agatha promptly responded, sliding a cutting board in front of you as she set a skillet on the stove at medium heat. You began to prep the fish with a knife from Agatha’s knife block, cutting off the thin, silver sheet of scales, then dicing it into cleanly cut cubes. Once that finished, you buttered the pan a fair amount and let the fish begin to brown.
The kitchen filled with an assortment of sounds as Agatha filled her chosen pot with water that would soon be boiled and the salmon simmered in the butter. Using a pair of tongs, you flipped the pieces of fish over to find the coral-orange color replaced by a warm golden crisp.
You weren't fully paying attention, but you heard Agatha hook up her phone to a Bluetooth speaker, perched on one of her shelves. The speaker began to play some song that you vaguely recognized, which had you mindlessly humming along. You were about to turn around and get your sauce ingredients ready when you felt familiar warm hands wrap around your waist, crossing over your stomach. You jumped slightly at the sensation and your ears went red at the humming laughter in your ear.
“Agatha, I’m trying to cook,” you attempted to protest, though your words lost their bite as you giggled. The history professor behind you hummed, her nose brushing against your neck as she began to kiss you again. You shivered and turned the skillet’s burner down as the pasta water began to bubble. She gave you enough room to turn in her arms and your hands came up to rest on her chest. She said nothing, only humming to the music as she gazed at you. It was unnerving, having her undivided attention like this, but you couldn't escape it.
“The water’s going to boil over,” she eventually commented. You shook out of your thoughts and she released you to pour the fettuccine into the bubbling pot, in addition to adding a generous amount of salt. You put the salmon bits on a plate with a paper towel so they could rest, then you began to make the cream sauce in the already prepared skillet.
Making the rest of the meal didn’t take long. Things were quiet, other than the clanging of pans and the low reverberation of the speaker. Once the cream sauce with greens was finished and the noodles were done boiling and drained, you took it upon yourself to assemble it all and dish it out onto two plates. Agatha gratefully took her dish, setting it on the breakfast nook table before she moved away again. She pulled a white wine out of the fridge, along with two glasses (one that she filled with ice for herself). She showed you what she had and wiggled her brow, which made you laugh as she sashayed over to the table, then slid in beside you.
She ended up much closer to you than expected, and she had room to move if she wanted to, but she didn’t bother. You didn’t either, finding that you enjoyed the proximity to her. She poured you a glass, then one of her own, and took a long sip before she began eating. You hadn’t started on your plate, seemingly waiting for her approval. She smiled and nodded your way as she chewed her first bite and you couldn’t help shyly smiling back at her.
“So, how have your papers been getting on?” you asked her after a few beats of content silence. Agatha finished her sip of wine and sighed, topping off both of your glasses.
“Oh, they're fine. I have maybe one or two more to finish than the shop’s closed,” she joked. “What about you, darling? How have you been?” she asked. She shrugged, finishing the bite of salmon that you had taken.
“I’m alright. Busy, but alright,” you glanced down at your plate, then back at her, wondering if this could be an opening for some of your questions. You licked your lips quickly then went for it with a breathy laugh. “My mother has already started making holiday plans for the winter break, which seems early to me,” you murmured. Agatha nodded but said nothing more. You set down your fork, nudged your plate away, and crossed your arms on the table as you swirled your wine, leaning closer to her.
“Do you have any kind of Holiday plans?” you asked. Agatha seemed mildly surprised by the question, but shook her head.
“No. But what might you be doing?” she asked, tilting her head as she gazed at you.
“I’m going out west. Oregon and California, specifically. My parents have a vacation home in Oregon that's close to the California coast where they’ve been living,” you explained. “My sisters driving down here and she’ll pick Darcy and me up for our flight,”
“Darcy’s coming along with you?” Agatha questioned, shifting out of her seat and standing to take the dishes over to the sink. You began to move but she waved you off without batting an eye. “You cooked. I’ll clean and you can talk to me,” she insisted.
“Darcy joins us for major holidays most years. She’s not super close with her family and my parents love having her around,” you chucked to yourself and sighed. “She’s like a fourth kid to them at this point,” Agatha smiled as she rinsed off the dishes in the skink, then loaded them into the dishwasher. You stared into your wine glass, watching the opaque liquid foam around the glass. “You know, you'd be welcomed, if you wanted to come along,” you eventually offered her. She seemed surprised by the idea and stopped what she was doing.
“Of course I understand if you have other plans or need to think about it-” you immediately backtracked, fidgeting with your hair as you bit the inside of your cheek. Agatha laughed, then hummed as she thought over the idea. She walked back to you, sliding into her seat once more, and took your hand while you weren't paying attention.
“I told you I didn't have plans, didn’t I?” she smiled. You froze, then laughed at yourself, covering your face with your hand as you shook your head.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous,” you confessed. Agatha laughed, then moved your hand out of your face so she could look at you.
“Why might that be?” she asked you.
“I like you, a lot, and I don’t want to mess things up or move too fast,”
“If things were moving too fast, then I’d tell you, promise,” Agatha instead, squeezing your hand.
“Then you’ll think about it?” you asked sheepishly.
“Consider it thought about,” she murmured, shifting forward so she could kiss your forehead. “Just tell me all the details I’ll need, your flight and I’ll buy a plane ticket tomorrow,” you couldn’t help grinning, but still felt worried about it.
“You won't feel overwhelmed meeting my family so soon? I’ll be honest, I adore them, but they can be a lot all at once,” you confessed. Agatha hummed, brushing her fingertips along your jaw and cheek as she nodded.
‘I’m ok. I want to meet your family because they are part of you. And I want to know everything about you,” you felt like melting into her arms right then and there. “But how do you want to introduce me?” she asked. You almost laughed, realizing it was the same question you had asked yourself earlier that morning.
“I’d be fine calling you whatever you'd like, but I’m personally partial to something along the lines of girlfriend or partner,” you said with shy confidence. Agatha’s eyes practically lit up and she nodded.
“I like that. I like that a lot,” she murmured before she kissed you all over again.
52 notes · View notes
studythenight-away · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
Hello! As finals season (aka 5-research-papers-due-in-a-week season) dawns on many of you, I thought I would share the process I used to write papers in college. This made writing long research papers much less daunting (but can also work on shorter papers). I really hope this helps some of you who feel stuck. Especially during these ridiculous times, when you're stuck at home and might have other uncontrollable factors affecting your mental health, a clear framework of what to do could be helpful. Good luck, my friends! You got this.
About me
I graduated college in 2018 with degrees in Political Science + International Studies and will be starting law school this fall. I wrote nearly 20 15 to 25-page papers, never earning below an A. I loved researching about my topics but hated writing. It's tedious, takes so much time, and everything I write sounds bad at first. Plus, I was a terrible procrastinator so most of these essays were written in under a week. Talk about stress.
Over time I found a process that worked for me, one that made churning out a paper seem straightforward, like going through a factory line rather than this terrifying concept of writing 10,000 words. It kept me sane without decreasing the quality of my work (or more importantly, how much I learned!) 
I'm thinking about making a short video to show this in action… let me know if that could be helpful!
Step 1: Research
How you organize your research is a key step in keeping you sane. Usually I'll have a pile of 20 books in my dorm along with dozens of JSTOR tabs open on my laptop, and that can get overwhelming very fast. Right now just focus on collecting ideas, not developing an argument or even an outline! As with most research papers, you could be starting with little to no background information on the topic, so it is still too early to be thinking about an argument.
Put all your research in one document
Open up a new doc: this will be the heart of everything. For a 15-page paper I usually end up with around 14-18 pages of typed research, 10 pt font, single spaced, tiny margins. This seems like a lot, but essentially all I do is type up anything I read that seems relevant to my topic, so luckily this step does not require that much brain power. Just type type type!
Use the table of contents
Find the chapter(s) that are actually relevant instead of skimming through the whole book. Time is of the essence here!
Use Zotero, cite right away
You can also use easybib or whatever you're used to, but keep track of your sources. I like Zotero because I can keep a log of all of my sources and copy the footnote or bibliography version whenever needed. Before you even begin reading, cite the source and copy it into your research doc. This will save you so much time later when you have to put in your citations in the actual paper. 
Here is an example of what my research doc looks like:
Tumblr media
Full citation is my heading for each source just so it’s crystal clear
I ignore all typos (I don’t think there are any in this part though, go me!) because my head is buried in the book just trying to get all the info down
I always start with the page number so I know what to cite when I go back
Create a shorthand 
While typing up research, you might think of something that the author didn't talk about that you'll want to write in your paper. Or perhaps a few sentences already start to form. Put them all in one place, with your research, so you know what source you'll have to cite to then lead into your idea. I type "!@#" before anything that is strictly my own idea so I'm never confused. It's fast and stands out.
Tumblr media
This is an example: the two bullet points above are evidence from my source, which made me think of this argument I could make, which I noted with “!@#”
Step 2: Read Your Research
Now that you have all your information, go back and read through it all. Every time you read about a new theme/person/event, write it down somewhere. You may come up with a list of 20+ different ideas in your research. No matter how small, as long as there is something about it, write it down. Each of these mini themes is going to end up being a paragraph in your paper or combined with another mini theme. 
Once you’ve made your list, look for larger overarching themes. In the paper I’ve shown you, I had mini categories like “political party x” “religion” “labor groups” “little organization” and “hierarchy.” When I looked back I though, hey these are all groups and how groups are working together, so they each became their own mini paragraph under the subsection of “Alliances.”
As with most research paper structures, I try to find three general themes/subsections (like an extended version of that 5-paragraph essay we wrote in middle school). It makes the paper less messy and also makes sure I’m not covering things that are beyond a reasonable scope.
During this step, you are also searching for your thesis. It won’t be your final version. As you fill in your outline in the next step you may make slight changes. But this is definitely when you start thinking about it.
Step 3: Outline
We’re ready to outline! Once I’ve collected all my different themes and organized all my subsections and paragraphs, it’s time to fill in that outline. I start a new doc just for the outline and take advantage of google doc’s headings function to make a clear document outline.
Here comes the fun part, I read through my research one more time, this time copy and pasting all my research into each section of the outline. The document outline in google docs makes this easy because I can just click on each subheading to get me there (super helpful when you’re dealing with 15+ pages of research).
Here is what it looks like:
Tumblr media
Let’s say I need to add something to my outline about labor groups. Boom, labor groups. Also, the typos are really abound here haha
Step 4: Write the Paper
Okay, I get it, easier said than done. BUT! You already have everything set up. Your outline is essentially just a list of your paragraphs and all you have to do is paraphrase, cite, and create a topic sentence. And that’s how you should think about this: you’re essentially transforming bullet points into sentences and adding footnotes. 
In high school my English teacher introduced us to Sh*tty First Drafts for creative writing, but honestly the same applies to research papers. Sometimes I’ll even have phrases like “wait no that’s not what I meant but basically...” and when I go back to edit, I realize that what came after “but basically...” is fine! And I keep it. So just start typing.
How do you cite while you write? Because we’re trying to get a constant stream of writing going, inserting proper footnotes after each sentence you type is too bothersome. I usually split screen with my outline and my paper so I just copy and paste a few words from my bullet point into my footnote, like so:
Tumblr media
(This is from a different paper about cluster munitions.)
Step 5: Edit the Paper
I work best when I print out my first draft and make all edits in red pen. I feel more productive and can visually see where I want to move sentences and what I need to change. The more red there is the better I can feel the paper getting. (Whether or not that’s true doesn’t matter. We’re trying to stay motivated here!) When it’s all digital I don’t really see the progress. Plus, once I finish all the red, I get another moment of passive brain work, where all I’m doing is transferring edits rather than thinking. And at this point in the process, that kind of relief is much welcomed. 
The good thing about this process is there’s not usually a need to cut entire paragraphs or pages because the paper you end up with is just a formalized version of your outline. Because you started with such a detailed outline, the cutting and editing now is just to refine your word choices and get rid of the “but basically”s. You’re almost there!
Step 6: Replace your citations
Now it’s time to go back and replace your footnotes with actual citations. Zotero makes this easy because in Word you can just insert and add the page number, and it’ll automatically do “Ibid.” for you when needed. Ctrl+f in the original research doc to quickly find the source.
Step 7: One More Read-Through and Submit!
Congratulations!! You’ve got a fully-researched and well-backed paper! Of course, even though the process is straightforward, it’s still a lot of work. In ideal situations I would start researching two weeks before the deadline, but if need be, I believe I’ve done this all in three miserable panic-filled days as well. 
Please message me if you have any questions at all! I really hope some of you find this helpful! Good luck!
4K notes · View notes
heejojo · 3 years
Text
hating park
summary: y/n has hated Jay for a long time but what happens when they now share a practice space?
pairing: Jay x gn reader (with a Sunoo, Niki, Jungwon, Jake and Heeseung appearance)
genre: crack, angst, fluff
word count: 1.4k
a/n: I hope you enjoy this, I'm currently working hard to improve my writing. requests are accepted and highly welcome. have a nice day!
Tumblr media
If there was something you hated more than peanuts, it was Park Jongseong and you hated peanuts a lot. It was the way he talked, the way he did everything and the way he was better at you in everything you both did without putting in much effort. Of course, you can’t blame him or the heavens for giving him such a photographic memory nor can you blame the heavens for giving you such a slow brain.
Although his cocky personality infuriated you to no end, you respected him as an academic rival and maybe in another life, where you’re not so hard-headed and he isn’t so arrogant, you could be friends but since you’re not, might as well live with it now.
“So for the debate, we’ll split those who volunteered into two teams. For Team A, we have Y/N, Niki and Sunoo. In Team B, we have Jay, Jake and Jungwon” your English teacher said. You groaned inwardly, you were up against Jay again but thankfully, this time you had people you knew in your team. Giving Sunoo and Niki a funny face making them burst into laughter and the class give you weird looks, you focus on your work. Suddenly, you feel a paper plane thrown to your back. When the class ends, you join Riki and Sunoo to discuss the debate. It was going to be an impromptu debate from what your teacher had said and they weren’t going to give you the topic until five minutes before the program started to see how well you could all do under pressure. It made no sense but you had no place to complain about it. While studying with them, you guys began arguing about random things. “No Sunoo, mint chocolate isn’t that good and I'll carry this for life,” you said backing Niki up. When there were world wonders like chocolate and Oreos would you want to take mint chocolate? “It tastes like toothpaste and chocolate bro” Niki deadpanned. You burst out laughing while Sunoo started fuming. “I don’t blame you, only pretty people like it” Sunoo retorted. Niki and I glanced at each other and continued laughing. Out of nowhere, three people came and sat down with you guys. Jay, Jake and Jungwon. “Do you mind if we practice together, neither of us knows the question so it would be fun?” Jay asked. “No, absolutely not,” you said. You did not want to stay in the same area as him for too long. “Y/N it’ll be okay, it’s just for the project so it’s fine” Niki comforted. “Fine” you grumbled and Jay chuckled to which you sent him a glare and moved to the other side of the room. Cocky idiot.
You would never admit it but you did enjoy your time with the other boys even if they were like children. Jungwon was very serious but knew how to have a good laugh. Jake laughed at literally anything to which Sunoo followed. Niki enjoyed teasing Jay which you were secretly delighted about. Your relationship with Jay improved a bit and you were able to let down your walls. Jay had such an amazing work ethic which you respected a lot and he was able to tune out his swollen head attitude which you were thankful for. You learnt a lot from him and you realised he put in a lot more effort into his schoolwork than you had thought he did.
As the day for the debate neared, you all were put on edge and anyone who looked at you could see it so when you got a call from your friend Heeseung telling you to come to see him in an empty classroom you were pretty surprised. “Hello, Y/N I know you’re really busy in preparation for the debate and stuff but please can you meet me at the empty music classroom? I have something to give you” he asked. “Sure, no problem. I’ll be there in five minutes” you responded and hung up. When you enter the classroom and meet Heeseung, he quickly puts something into your hands. “Open it,” he says, pointing to the piece of paper in your hands. You look at him sceptically, “What is this?” you ask. He refuses to tell you and continues to urge you to take a look at it. “I’m not opening it until you tell me what it is,” you say. “It’s the debate topic, I took it from the office” he quickly spits out. You hand the paper back to him immediately. “Why did you take this!?” you whisper-yelled.
“I did that because I knew how much you wanted to win, I saw the look in your eyes. The envy and the sadness anytime your parents compared you to Jay. You worked really hard and you deserve to win at least once” he said. “Even though, you shouldn’t have done that. Do you know what will happen if you get caught? Throw that far away and don’t give it to anyone. I acknowledge your looking out for me but if I lose this debate I’ll know I tried my best but lost it fair and square but if I win after taking this, it’s cheating. I have less than a year to go before I graduate so I can still take my parents comparison but your reputation will be shattered if people find out what you did. It’s better to do the right thing using the right means” you told him. “I can take care of myself, thank you for caring about me but I would never want to win like this” you continue. “I hope you get rid of that,” you say as you pack up your things to go back to the class. “Are you really sure about this?” he asks you one final time. “I don’t need it, Jay puts in a lot of hard work as well and it will be breaking my work ethic if I take this,” you respond. “Do you fancy him, is that why you don’t want to take this” he queried. You pause for a while before saying, “Even if I do, it doesn’t relate to this” you say and leave the classroom. Once you leave, you go to the bathroom and stay there for a while thinking about what had happened and how it felt so unreal. You already felt a headache arising and rested for a little while.
Taking a deep breath, you leave the bathroom and go meet the debate members. You couldn’t focus during practice and Sunoo noticed and asked, “Hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little pale”. You forced a smile and nodded, telling him you were just nervous about the debate. You could feel Jay’s eyes drilling holes into your back and when you turned to face him, he stared at you for a while before continuing his work.
The day of the debate came and although you were nervous, you did your best as so did the other people on your team. Jay’s team spoke with so much passion, you were almost convinced. After the judges had finished compiling the results, your team had won by a point and Sunoo and Niki wouldnt stop talking about it. “It’s because of my top tier arguing skills that we won” Sunoo gloated. “All those skills and you still can’t make us like mint choco,” Niki said. “All those looks and your crush still can’t like you back” Sunoo shot back which made Niki shut up. You shook hands with the people on Jay’s team, congratulating them and left the arena to be alone.
As you stayed in the debate room alone with your thoughts, Jay walked in with an ice cream in hand and offered one to you which you gladly took and stayed in comfortable silence with each other. “I saw you and Heeseung,” Jay said out of the blue. You stopped eating and your heart started racing. “He glanced at you and continued, “I know you didn’t open it and I heard all those things you had said. I’m sorry if I made you feel inferior in any way”. You didn’t know what made you laugh but you did and he looked surprised. You composed yourself and said, “Sorry, I have a habit of laughing during serious situations. So don’t have to feel bad for getting top place especially when you put in that much effort.” you said and continued eating ice cream. “You’re a good person when I started knowing you and realized I judged you too harshly and was blinded with envy,” you said. You both feel back into silence knowing that neither of you had any ill blood towards one another.
“What’s so bad about liking me?” Jay asked trying to lift the mood. “Shut it, Jongseong,” you tell him.
60 notes · View notes
Text
[CN] S2 Victor- Right Now Is The Time (Eng Translation)
⌚ Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a company project that is yet to be released in the global server! ⌚
Tumblr media
NOTE: This post features S2 Victor and MC, and takes place some time in between post-Chapter 4 and pre-Chapter 10. And it’s the 4th company project. However, it doesn’t contain any spoilers regarding the S2 storyline. I’ve listed the notable storyline mentions at the end of the post, so no worries about storyline spoilers! (◍•ᴗ•◍)
[ SECTION 1 ]
The day before the show is officially about to be filmed, I’m setting up the apparatuses in the lobby of LFG.
The company’s new variety event “Right Now is The Time” is a workplace observation related reality show, filming the internship of five talented students working at LFG.
According to the script settings, they have to pass a number of tests with the aim of obtaining a formal offer.
In this process, we hope to be able to display young peoples’ ardent love towards life and strive towards improving themselves simultaneously.
The format of this show has been introduced via overseas. I have spent a long time in obtaining the copyright, and also spent quite a long time in convincing Victor to set the filming location at LFG.
Now that the progress is continuing without a flinch, and the filming is officially about to be started, I also can’t refrain from heaving a sigh of relief.
MC: Master, remember to take away all the wires from here when you leave later. Otherwise, the property owner will definitely say something when he sees them on his way to the office at 6 AM.
As I walk around in the construction site, I lower my head to reply to the messages in the group from time to time. Suddenly, as I turn my head, I almost bump into the person standing behind me head-on.
Tumblr media
MC: Victor.... what are you doing here?
Victor pulls away from me slightly, sweeping his gaze at the several cameras hanging high up on the wall.
Victor: This is LFG. What do you mean what I’m doing here?
MC: ....No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, why are you still at the office now. It’s already one o’clock.
Tumblr media
Victor: Just got finished. What have you got up here?
MC: It’s nothing. The master will be done in a moment. It certainly won’t affect your company’s regular work tomorrow.
Victor seems to be about to say something when an abrupt call pops up on my phone. I embarrassedly duck my head at him, and tap on the call button.
Anna: MC, are you still at LFG? We have just gone through the script, and kept feeling that we won’t be able to shoot so much in one day. We have to pick out some contents to delete.
Anna: How about you do a round trip to the office, and we go over it one last time?
MC: Okay. I’m also done here anyway. I’ll go back right now. Are you guys hungry? I could buy some late-night snacks and bring them up.
Anna: No need for late-night snacks. We will try to get it done within the shortest possible time.
MC: Alright. I’ll be at the office within half an hour.
I hang up the phone, and turn my head to look at Victor. Even before I can say anything, he opens his mouth immediately.
Victor: I’ll drive you to the office.
Tumblr media
MC: It’s okay. I can go back on my own. It’s too late already. You’d better go back and rest.
Victor: You also know it yourself that it’s too late.
Tumblr media
He stares at me for a couple of moments, and seems to sigh. Then he takes out the car key from his pocket, motioning me to walk towards the elevator.
Tumblr media
Victor: I happen to be going to the airport. I’ll drop you off on the way.
Victor: I’ll be away on a business trip these two days. If you need anything, look for Goldman directly. He will help you in arranging it.
Tumblr media
MC: OK. But....
Did he set off for going to the airport in the middle of the night, and is going to attend a meeting on the next day straight away? Although I’ve always known that his work intensity is like this....
Tumblr media
Victor: But what?
I fish out a picture from my phone and send it to him, smiling at him jestingly.
MC: I’ve sent you a phone wallpaper.
There are only six words written on the black background with white characters: “Working-class people, working-class souls.”
[ Note: It’s actually sort of a running joke in Chinese “打工人, 打工魂” (dǎ gōng rén, dǎ gōng hún) about the distress of the working class people :(. It has a rhymed version of it in English, but I’m not going to mention it here cause I’m not sure if I should be typing the word haha~ ]
MC: Although I know you are a capitalist, but you are able to understand the spirit.
Tumblr media
MC: CEO Victor~ mutual encouragement!
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 2 ]
Before Victor returns from the business trip, I specifically give him a call, wanting to arrange for one of the outstanding performing interns in the show to pick him up at the airport.
I really can’t bear to miss on a good filming material like this.
Tumblr media
Victor is speechless on the phone for about 10 seconds before he finally sighs.
Victor: The audiences with little common sense would know that, it’s not within the turns of an intern to pick-up at the airport.
MC: Yes, yes, yes, it’s certainly not within the turns of an intern to pick-up the CEO at the airport. But CEO....
Tumblr media
MC: You have great compassion towards considering the ratings of my shows. And you also know how important your appearance for this show is....
MC: You promised me, that you could make an appearance in the trailer for at least 3-5 seconds.
Victor: But according to my understanding of you, when you have a great amount of source materials, it’s impossible to have only 3-5 seconds.
Tumblr media
MC: This is no surprise.
MC: You already knew this, and you still promised me. It’s clear that this 3-5 seconds is not the important point. The important point is making the appearance in the appropriate way.
Tumblr media
MC: I think going with this pick-up method is very appropriate!
MC: Just be yourself. Whether you want to speak or not, what to say or how to say it, it’s all up to your pleasure, CEO Victor. Is this OK?
An almost inaudible sigh can be heard from Victor over the phone.
Victor: OK. I’ll arrive at 4 PM on the day after tomorrow. If you want to film the pick-up, make the arrangements in advance.
Tumblr media
MC: The arrangements will certainly be made adequately for you! I’ll ask Goldman for the flight number.
Victor: Your tone sounds like you’re going to make arrangements with great fanfare.
MC: It’s just.... such as, since it’s a cameo, what kind of clothing and make-up....
Victor: No need.
MC: ....
Tumblr media
MC: Yep, yep, yep. No need. CEO Victor will win the show as soon as he steps in front of the lens of the camera. We focus on the authenticity.
Victor: I still have matters to attend to. Let’s leave it here.
Tumblr media
MC: You go ahead. I’ll get in touch with you the moment there is some progress!
Since I’ve received the special authority to shoot, I naturally arrange everything up frantically.
On the day of picking up at the airport, I sit in front of the monitor from beginning to the end, and stare at it from the first second Victor gets into the car to the final second. The result is beyond expectation—
Unexpectedly, he and the intern in charge of picking up hasn’t spoken a word.
The big brother in charge of filming laughs out loud as he looks at it: Playing this segment of 3-5 seconds would do it. Perhaps the audiences are going to feel like they are stuck in the frame.
MC: [ Talking to herself ] ....Victor wouldn’t be so stingy to really just give me a few seconds of materials, would he?
I wait until the filming clearance carrying great doubts, and is just intending to look for the intern in charge of picking up and ask a few questions, but that person disappears in the blink of an eye.
After a while, he comes over and finds me, additionally carrying a paper medicine bag in his hand.
Intern: Sister MC, CEO Victor spoke a few words with me after getting off the car. I felt his voice sounded a little hoarse. Would you like to send this to him?
Tumblr media
MC: A little hoarse?
Intern: Mm, it felt like a cold. Luckily, we have also been on a project with CEO Victor in the past 2 days. Director Zhang said he even received an email from CEO Victor at 3 o’clock last night. The temperature difference in these two days was so huge and CEO Victor hasn’t rested well. So he might have caught a cold.
A wave of worry floats to my heart as I carry the medicine bag in my hand.
This person.... still doesn’t understand when he starts to feel unwell, nor does he know to make a sound about it.
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 3 ]
I knock on the door to Victor’s office, and there is no response for a long time.
This kind of situation is very rare. I feel a little worried, and twist the doorknob to push open a little crack.
Victor leans back in his chair, dozing off. I haven’t pushed the door too loudly, but it still wakes him up.
He straightens up his back, and reaches out his hand to pinch the space between his eyebrows as he looks at me.
I feel somewhat very bad, and simply walk straight over.
MC: ....Did I wake you up? The intern said your voice sounded a little hoarse. So he bought some medicines for you, and asked me to bring them to you.
Tumblr media
MC: Are you OK?
Tumblr media
I can’t help stepping forward, and reaching out my hand to place it on his forehead. He has just woken up, his reaction clearly hasn’t come over, and he doesn’t even frown almost subconsciously like ordinary times.
MC: Fortunately, it’s not a fever.
Victor adjusts his suit, picks up the cup, and takes only one sip before putting it down again.
Tumblr media
Victor: It’s no big deal.
....His voice indeed is very hoarse, and one can tell it’s a cold just by hearing it.
I rummage through the bag of medicines, and inside are throat-smoothening lozenges, indigowoad roots, fever patches– everything needed is available. It can be clearly seen that the person who bought the medicines was considerate and very attentive.
— Someone might be able to take over the job from Goldman in the future.
I eye up his cup once again. Thinking that the water inside surely have gotten cold a long time ago, I smoothly tear open a bag of indigowoad roots right away, and give it to Victor to brew up.
He actually doesn’t refuse, lifts up the cup with his both hands, letting the warm steam rising from the cup to blow on his face.
It’s rare for me to see him with the appearance of being unable to lift up his spirits like this, and I truly can’t help but frown.
Tumblr media
MC: Why is it that the first thing you do after getting off the plane is coming back to the office, and not give yourself even a day of sick leave?
Before Victor can say anything, his phone sitting on the table starts vibrating.
I look at the lock screen illuminated by the light. Surprisingly, it really is that picture of “Working-class people, working-class soul” I have given him earlier.
Victor ignores the phone, and lowers his head to drink two sips of the indigowoad roots.
Tumblr media
Victor: There are two more meetings in the evening, and the time was fixed already a long time ago.
The implication is that, it’s not happening.
My very soul is shaken: When the capitalists work with all their might like this, what qualifications do I have to not make great efforts.
Tumblr media
MC: ....If this segment of yours is included in the show, LFG’s stock price will have to rise by at least three limit ranges.
Victor casts his everyday speechless expression at me. Judging from this reaction, it must have gotten a little bit slower due to the dizzy state he has been in just a moment ago.
I set my heart down, and shove my both hands inside the pockets of my coat.
MC: If you’re all right, I’ll go on and continue to keep an eye on the progress. There are throat-smoothening lozenges in that medicine bag. Remember to take them if your throat feels uncomfortable.
Victor nods, and as soon as I turn my head, he picks up the phone.
MC: Remember—
I suddenly recall when I have walked to the door, and smile at him as I lean against the crack of the door.
Tumblr media
MC: To drink plenty of hot water!
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 4 ]
Today’s filming goes on till 10 o’clock, and wraps up without a hitch.
I heard Goldman say that Victor’s meeting has also adjourned about at this same time. I buy some food for him and bring them over. As expected, he really hasn’t eaten again.
He is probably tired, and doesn’t hold it against my meddling in other people’s business, nor does he mock my poor order.
Just as I have set the four dishes on the coffee table, he then picks up the chopsticks on his own.
MC: Chicken, fish, less salt, less oil, and high protein.
MC: How’s this? This sick meal is still not bad, right? [1]
Without making any assessment, Victor picks up the rice, and tastes two bites in order to show his affirmation.
Tumblr media
Victor: How’s the filming of the show coming along?
MC: Surprisingly good.
When the topic of the interns who participated in the filming of the show is raised, I don’t know how am I supposed to praise them.
Tumblr media
MC: Kids nowadays can be extremely quick-witted. They learn things both fast and well, and are also very savvy about interpersonal relationships....
MC: Each one of them are standard template for the business elite.
MC: There is this one intern who came to LFG on the first day, and the department manager called him to write a summary on the conference....
MC: He said straightforwardly that he didn’t know how to do it, and requested for someone to teach him.
MC: And at that time, we were even talking about it encircling behind the monitor.
MC: If it were up to the conventional thinking, the audience surely would have thought that he’d be stifling, be scarlet red in the face and enter the conference room trembling in fear.
MC: In the end, not only did he not have any of those, but was even very frank with his approach. This kind of self-confidence is too rare.
Victor suddenly laughs while eating.
Tumblr media
Victor: Do you think they are all just like you?
MC: ....What’s wrong with me!
Victor: Always preferring to buff your way out.
Tumblr media
MC: Am not!
Even if I really have, it was also a long time ago. Things are very different now.
MC: Anyway, not....
Victor is still smiling. His smile makes me feel that these few clearly light and bland dishes must be very tasty indeed.
Tumblr media
Victor: Considering your opinion, they all possibly will get the offer smoothly?
Tumblr media
MC: Of course.
MC: Trust me. They are all excellent. You were able to attract such a group of youngsters towards LFG, and have made the profit!
MC: And also after the show is broadcast, it will be a good thing for LFG’s publicity aspect too.
MC: Didn’t you say earlier that LFG’s Strategic Development Department wants to set up an image of high professionalism in the public’s eyes?
Tumblr media
Victor: Since you are this set on heart about LFG’s future, you should be brought along to future meetings of the Strategic Development Department.
Victor: And give you the title of external consultant.
Tumblr media
MC: I’ll come if I’m given the wages.
Hearing him speak in a voice a little more hoarse than in the afternoon, I think and know as well that he has spoken a lot during the meetings again. I get up to pour him a cup of hot water.
Victor doesn’t say anything, and carefully eats the food. Not a moment later, my phone rings out abruptly.
Kiki: Boss— I’ve something to ask you. How many minutes in total is the pilot episode going to run?
MC: Half an hour or so, I think. Take a look at the source material in use.
MC: ....Are you still at the office? It’s already half past ten. Didn’t I say you can take an early break today to rest.
Kiki: Alright, I’ll go back immediately. Boss, you should call it an early night too.
Victor puts down the bowl and chopsticks, and leisurely wipes his lips while shooting me an alarming glance.
Tumblr media
Victor: It’s so late already. You’re not off work either.
Victor: And you still call someone else a workaholic?
[ Note: The phrase used here is “人家” (rén jia) which can be translated to other people/someone else. But it’s also used to referring “oneself” as “people/someone.” So basically here, Victor is saying how MC calls him a workaholic LOL. Similar to how the “a certain someone” phrase is often used in their conversation. ]
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 5 ]
I stare at Victor, and sigh in a manner as though I want to say something but am hesitating.
Tumblr media
MC: But I came here to bring you dinner in the spirit of dedication based on “It is everyone’s duty to take care of the Boss.”
MC: Did you just classify this as autonomous overtime activity?
I hold out my hand towards him.
Tumblr media
MC: How about you pay for the overtime?
Victor shoots me a glance, and simply purses his lips with a faint smile.
Tumblr media
Victor: I don’t know if I can afford to pay the charges of the gold medal producer.
I laugh along with him, and raise my eyebrows imitating the way he usually does.
Tumblr media
MC: If you can’t afford to pay, I can give you a discount.
As we are talking, Kiki sends me a rough cut of the video that’s going to be used in the pilot. I place my phone on the coffee table, and turn it in an angle that both Victor and I can see.
Tumblr media
MC: Just in time. Let’s have a little look at the clip of the show with dinner.
This segment happens to be the scene when the interns were being interviewed.
At first glance, they all appear to be business elites clad in suits and with boundless prospects. But the tension in between waiting during the intervals is entirely visible to the unaided eye.
....Also there was a young girl, as a result of being too keyed-up, she even decided to memorize a piece of English text to loosen up for a while.
I watch with keen interest, and Victor looks at my gaze with keen interest.
Their expression and state of affairs– immediately makes me evoke all of that scene in one go, that time back then, when I stood in front of Victor.
Tumblr media
Victor: What’s on your mind that you’re so engrossed in watching?
MC: Don’t you have a sense of resonance? Weren’t you like this when you were young?
Just as expected, Victor gives an expression of “Of course not.”
....Is the world so enormously uneven?
Victor bores through two more segments anyway, and the video happens to be onto the time when the interns were receiving their written notice of the internship prepared by the program team.
MC: Yesterday Anna discussed with me that this pilot segment is intended for setting up the keynotes for the show, and in what pattern the character are written here is very important.
MC: What we are thinking about at the moment is— Beginning from here on out, may we all have a luminous and sparkling future ahead of us with boundless prospects.
MC: What do you think?
Victor has been titling his head to the side throughout as he listens to my words, showing no expression of evaluation.
Victor: About what exactly to do on your shows, don’t you usually ask for less of my specific opinions?
I tap pause on the video, and the frame rests on the glass window outside the LFG building, reflecting off the blue sky and white clouds.
MC: This time it’s different. This group of youngsters are from LFG.
Tumblr media
MC: You’ve worked so hard in creating LFG to have a platform so bright and beautiful....
MC: Isn’t it just in the hope that even more people will find broader future here.
Victor’s gaze remains calm and collected, and a smile has been gracing the corners of his lips all along.
Tumblr media
It’s already very late at night. Seeing that Victor has also had his fill, I tidy up the coffee table at once, get up and gesture at him.
MC: Let’s go CEO. Time to get off work.
MC: I’ll drive you home.
Victor is clearly taken aback for a moment.
Tumblr media
Victor: You’ll drive me?
I nod boldly and self-righteously.
Tumblr media
MC: Goldman got off work already at an earlier time, and also greeted me just before leaving. You’ve taken the cold medicine tonight. I’m driving, okay.
Victor: ....
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 6 ]
My car is parked directly opposite the elevator. As soon as Victor steps out of the elevator, he walks straight over to the backseat, pulls open the car door, and hops in without saying a word.
I fasten my seatbelt in the driver’s seat, and can’t help from glancing over at the back seat.
MC: CEO Victor, generally speaking.... at times like this, you should be taking the passenger seat.
Victor looks down at his phone without even lifting his head for a bit.
Tumblr media
Victor: I’m not used to with sitting in the passenger seat. [2]
Tumblr media
MC: ....Fine.
After all, he is the CEO. It makes sense that he has never sat in the passenger seat before.
I suddenly recall the app-based taxi guidance, and repeat them without missing a word.
Tumblr media
MC: Our trip is about to begin. Please fasten your seatbelt. Is the temperature inside the car fairly appropriate?
Tumblr media
This time, Victor lifts up his head to look at me, his eyes laced with very obvious confusion.
Evidently, the CEO has almost never taken a taxi either.
Overjoyed, I drive the car out of the parking lot, then immediately lower half the car window, letting the unrestrained sweet night breeze of spring to blow in.
Victor hasn’t said anything all the way, typing down messages on his phone from time to time.
Halfway through the journey, Victor puts the phone back in his pocket, leans back in the seat and looks outside window, laughing in a lazy manner as though soliloquizing.
Tumblr media
Victor: You are the person I know, who very rarely let me set down my work to rest.
I think back carefully— in fact, that was not the case. It’s just not in his memory.  *[ clutches chest ]*
But now, it really isn’t my habit to speak up too much to persuade him into something. He has his own principles and reasons for everything he does....
Tumblr media
MC: You won’t listen even if I said so anyway.
MC: Also.... work is a very important thing to you. I can understand that.
Tumblr media
Half the side of Victor’s face is reflected on the dark tinted car window, and his eyes are casted towards me in alarm, within which are reflected the gorgeous neon lights of the city.
Victor: Does work have to be a very important thing?
The lights of the street lamps fall on the asphalt road. This road, carpeted with light, seems so far away that it doesn’t have an end.
Tumblr media
MC: Mm.... work is a very important thing.
MC: Work is akin to flights of steps. By stepping up and standing in an even higher place, you can then do the things you want to do more.
MC: Perhaps back then, the CEO of LFG has also been just like these group of youngsters. Clad in a suit, standing at the starting point, and then he walked on his way to this day.
In the rearview mirror, Victor locks eyes with me meaningfully. This is an expression I’m familiar with, an expression that represents his tacit  understanding.
Tumblr media
Victor: Earlier, did you want to have me attend the show’s press conference?
I pick up on the keynote, and hurriedly get my spirits up.
Tumblr media
MC: You agreed!
Hearing my absolutely certain tone, Victor smiles faintly.
Tumblr media
Victor: I haven’t said anything yet.
Tumblr media
MC: I still have some of that sharp workplace acumen, and don’t need to be told everything by the CEO to get it right. I can understand the spirit on my own.
Victor doesn’t say anything anymore, and he lowers the car window too. Seeing the night breeze messing up the fringes in front of his forehead, I’ve originally wanted to speak up, and remind him that he’s unwell and should refrain from blowing the wind....
On a second thought I feel, the breeze is very comfortable and is worth blowing.
Especially after constantly running around for several days, and after finally ending a busy and tiring day.
It’s worth blowing a little breeze, and having a look at this resplendent city.
◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──
[ SECTION 7]
The press conference has been arranged at a hotel under the banner of LFG. Victor has been invited to attend, and he sits in the VIP area off the stage.
I’ve arranged the sequence of process in advance. The only thing he needs to consider is that going up on the stage– next, saying a few words to make an official speech, and that will suffice.
But today’s situation is comparatively lively, and the reporters are clearly very interested in LFG itself as well.
As soon as Victor comes up on the stage, there is constant applause, and the “click-click-click” sound of taking photos nearly overpowers the clamors of the tide of people.
The host has tried several times to ask Victor, who has already finished his speech and is getting off the stage, but couldn’t find the appropriate opportunity to do so. Thereupon, I cast an inquiring glance.
I’ve just got up, wanting to stop the reporters, but Victor lifts up his hand— which means is that, it’s fine.
Victor invites the reporters to ask questions one by one— in a manner that, he is in a very good mood today, and nobody will be refused.
Reporter: CEO Victor, is there any serious consideration behind LFG choosing to collaborate with this kind workplace related variety show?
Tumblr media
Victor: There aren’t any serious considerations. We simply feel that, every one of the employees working at LFG are excellent, and they are worthy of being seen by everyone.
Reporter: Excuse me, CEO Victor, do you have anything to say to these young people who have become a member of LFG?
Tumblr media
After glancing at me faintly, Victor once again looks towards the press box, and opens his mouth unhurriedly, uttering the words that I have said in front of him before.
Tumblr media
Victor: I hope that they will set sail on their journey from LFG, and have a luminous and sparkling future with boundless prospects.
When the applause rings out, I suddenly realize that– I, too, have apparently set sail on my journey clumsily under Victor’s wings, and then slowly walked on my way to this day.
Regardless of the time, the LFG he has created, the doors of this tremendous business empire is wide open to all dreams, waiting for young people, waiting for everyone.
The letters “LFG” have long since not only been the bearer of Victor’s expectations and prospects alone.
After walking through the entire sequence of events, the press conference is officially concluded.
As soon as the hotel brings up the wine and food for the buffet, I immediately offer my eager attention to Victor, busying myself with choosing the champagne to bring over to him.
MC: Is CEO Victor fairly satisfied with this press conference?
Victor takes the wine glass in my hand, and gently raises his hand to gesture at me.
Tumblr media
Victor: This is your show, as long as the producer is satisfied with it– that will do.
From my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of the interns in the show being huddled together, taking selfies against the signature board at the doorway, and am instantly struck by an idea.
Tumblr media
MC: Victor, why don’t you wish me a future with boundless prospects too, and give me a blessing for good luck.
With one hand in his pocket, Victor turns his head to look at me.
Tumblr media
Victor: You’re already very luminous and sparkling. Do you still need to ask for this kind of blessing for good luck?
MC: The more the better.
A smear of smile hangs across the side of Victor’s lips, and he even mulls it over for a while.
Tumblr media
Victor: In that case, I wish that you.... can always sparkle luminously, at all times.
I’m able to intuitively grasp a little bit of the implied meaning within his words. Accordingly, I draw closer to Victor.
Tumblr media
MC: Just like you?
Victor slightly lowers his eyes to regard me, his gaze- carrying within them a smile lands on my face.
Tumblr media
Victor: If you want to, you can.
◇──◆──◇
[ EXTRA TIDBITS: ]
[1] - MC is referring to the time Victor was in hospital in CH 4.
[2] - Victor mentions this event during the car tampering incident of CH 10, when MC told him that he’d get penalty for running the red light, and he replies with- that it’s fine cause he has a driver LOL.
──
52 notes · View notes