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mandowh0re · 3 years

Text

Remember Me

Chapter 2

Summary: While cleaning up the timelines that he broke, Loki meets and inevitably loses the one person that’s understood him in life. But he’s not losing you without a fight.

A/N: Another chapter within a week?? More likely than you think! Beta'd by the ever beautiful @edgyvege. Go show her some love!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2303

Happy Reading!

Loki’s lying in his bed, clutching the book you had loaned him close to his chest.

He finished the book the first night of having it, and he regrets not pacing himself because he still has six days before he can see you again and isn’t sure how to keep himself sane until then. He doesn’t have much to his name anymore, having missed eleven years of his life and his home having been destroyed. So it’s not like he can turn to his favorite books or activities.

The Avengers had reluctantly agreed, mostly out of guilt because of Thor’s previous loss, to let Loki stay in the compound under the condition that he did not leave, did not use his magic unsupervised, and did not cause chaos. It had been an incredibly difficult adjustment, especially on his part, but he was willing to do whatever it took to see you again. So he did not complain even once.

When Loki had returned from timeline 656, the timeline in which he first met you, he was broken but determined. He was on a mission and refused to get distracted until his job was done. He had to find you again. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he didn’t.

So when Mobius agreed to bring Loki to this point of the timeline, he had given Loki the information to be able to find you.

You were his insurance, a way to make sure Loki stayed in his place.

So after two weeks of near perfect behavior and constant sulking from the trickster, Steve and Tony agreed that Loki could leave the compound, though only under Thor’s supervision.

When he first saw you again in that tiny bookstore, he felt like he had been hit in the chest by Thor’s hammer. He thought he was prepared to see you again. Your bright eyes and soft lips were all he could think about the past several months. But apparently, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

But you being you, you gave him a sweet smile and kindly helped him find the book you had told him about when the two of you had first met back in timeline 656. Because no matter the timeline, you were always one to help others.

And then you did something he wasn’t expecting. The possibility wasn’t even on his radar. You gave him your own copy to read, telling him it was so he had to come back and see you. He felt his chest constrict in that moment, yet at the same time a spark of hope exploded inside of him. It was something that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Then when you asked him for his name, his heart broke again.

He had forgotten to even give you his name, because he had already known yours. Your name, your scent, your favorite laugh, your body.

He knew it all.

Yet you knew nothing about him. And after telling you his name, he was afraid you’d remember what he’d done to your city all those years ago. That you’d be afraid of him and reject him, just like most everyone else in his life. He wouldn’t blame you. He believed himself a monster, just like everyone else did.

But he kept himself from spiraling into his dark thoughts with the sole knowledge that the version of you in timeline 656 wasn’t scared of him. Not even before he explained to you what had really happened.

No, you had accepted him, helped him, and eventually loved him.

He could only hope that this version of you could do the same.

***

The day you met Loki, you were a bit shell shocked.

He left almost immediately after telling you his name, and you watched as he met up with a much larger blonde man before walking away. It took your brain one too many seconds to realize the blonde was Thor, making Loki the actual Loki. The Loki that reigned chaos and destruction to your beloved city all those years ago.

A few pieces of information struck you throughout the day, startling you each time:

Number one; you had actually hit on a literal god. The God of Mischief, no less.

Number two; he actually flirted back! What the fuck?

Number three; he never asked for your name.

And number four; you weren’t scared of him. More than that, you weren’t even angry with him.

You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Why he didn’t intimidate you. Why you felt as if you understood him. Or why you felt like you knew him, more intimately than just having heard of him. You had only spoken to the man once, for crying out loud.

The week passes by incredibly slowly, and every time you think about your interaction or of seeing Loki again, butterflies come to life in your belly and a smile slowly comes across your face.

But today is finally the day.

It’s a quarter past eleven when the door to the shop opens, the small wind chime signaling someone had entered. You look up from your current read and see Loki taking a few short steps to the counter. He’s dressed to the nines again, wearing a dark grey suit with minimal green accents.

He looks positively delicious, and you curse yourself for letting that thought slip. You slide your bookmark into your novel before setting it on a small shelf behind you.

“Hey! You came back!” You say, your voice a few pitches higher than usual. You really weren’t expecting him to actually return the book himself. In fact, you weren’t sure what you expected at all.

He nods, “Of course, darling. I wanted to see you again,” his voice is deep and his eyes are trained on yours, “And discuss the book, obviously,” He lifts the loved copy in his hand, held between his nimble fingers.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile shyly. Your eyes flicker to the window where you saw Thor waiting last week.

“Where’s your chaperone?”

Loki raises a brow, glancing to the window next to him.

“I saw Thor meet you when you left last week.”

Realization dawns on Loki’s face, “Ah, yes. I must be accompanied by my brother at all times outside of the Avengers Compound. It is a term of my arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” You ask, cocking your head slightly.

For a moment, Loki falters. He’s said too much, explaining his situation could cause more questions to arise, and he did not need that right now. Because how in the nine realms would he answer them?

So instead of answering, he sets the book on the counter in between the two of you and smiles, “Nothing for you to concern yourself, dear. I would much rather talk about the blatant misinformation contained in this book.”

His tone is light and playful, so you laugh and pull the book closer to you, “Misinformation? You mean to tell me that you didn’t give birth to a horse?”

Loki rolls his eyes, “Gods, no! I did no such thing. Nor am I the father of Fenrir, Jormungandr, or Hela.” He makes a disgusted face.

“That’s a shame,” You fake pout, “You just ruined my favorite book for me.”

He scoffs, “Darling, I am the living, breathing version of the character in your book. How could a novel be more interesting than the real deal?”

You look at him, a mischievous glint in your eye, and Loki feels his heart jump in his throat. He’s seen that look before. The way your nose crinkles just slightly, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, barely noticeable. There’s a sparkle in your eye, one that tells Loki every time that you’re up to no good.

It was one of the many reasons he fell so hard for you.

“You’re very handsome, I’ll give you that. But I just think Book Loki has more layers. Ya know?”

Normally, if you had made a comment like that, Loki would have pinned you against a wall and put you in your place.

But that was another time. One that Loki desperately hoped would come to him once more.

“Well, I think that if you come to know me better, you shall see I am much more… Complex than you humans have made me out to be.” His voice has lowered a few tones, sweet and smooth like honey.

He’s closer now, leaning over with his forearms on the counter, and you feel a warmth spread across your belly. You curse yourself and discreetly press your thighs together.

But unbeknownst to you, Loki knew every single one of your mannerisms, quirks, and habits. And by default, he saw the little movement you made, and had to use his glamour to hide the way his body reacted.

Conversation flowed from there, banter flying back and forth, your quick wit almost matching his.

It somehow felt normal to you. Comfortable. It was bizarre and pleasant at the same time.

But for Loki, it was just a painful reminder of what he lost so many months ago.

Before he knew it, there was a single knock against the front window, signaling that his time was up. The both of you glanced up to see Thor, dressed in jeans and a casual cotton jacket, peeking inside.

Loki sighs, “While I wish I could stay longer and chat, I fear I must take my leave.” He stands from the chair you had pulled up next to you and straightens his jacket.

Your heart drops slightly, not wanting him to leave, and you stand with him.

“Well, how about I give you another book to read?”

“I was already planning on coming back,” He smirks, tilting slightly downward, “But I shan’t turn down a chance to read a book.”

“Good, because I love this one too.” You tell him, grabbing the book from your stash. You rip a piece of receipt paper from the small printer and quickly scribble on it, then tuck it into the front cover.

“And my name is Y/N, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last week.”

Loki smiles and takes the book from you, walking towards the door.

“Well, Y/N, it has been a pleasure. I shall see you again next week.”

***

“Brother, I see you have another book.” Thor says as he moves to walk alongside Loki, who was already reading the book summary.

Loki only makes a hum of acknowledgment, but doesn’t say anything.

They walk in silence towards the secluded alley where Loki can transport them back to the compound without curious eyes.

The silence is comfortable, yet eerie. Thor is still recovering from the shock of having Loki back, though it wasn’t the same Loki he lost on that forsaken ship.

And Loki… He’s just trying to wrap his head around everything that has happened. Everything he missed because he jumped from 2012 to 2021. He didn’t get to say goodbye to Frigga. He didn’t get to have a last look at Asgard. And now the one woman Loki is sure he cannot live without, doesn’t remember him.

They get back to the compound without incident, and Loki heads back to his room like he always does, choosing to interact with the Avengers as little as possible, lest there be a fight.

He tilts his head up slightly, eyes screwed shut and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Friday, is it? Where is the spider child?”

“Peter is in the penthouse. Would you like me to relay a message to him?”

Loki bites his lip. Is he really going to do this?

Yes, he supposes he is.

“Can you ask him to come to my quarters?”

“Of course.”

Loki paces, waiting for Peter. After several minutes, there’s a tentative knock at the door.

“Come in.”

It opens slowly, revealing a confused Peter.

“Hey, Friday said you asked for me?”

“Yes.” Loki nods, then hands the boy a small piece of paper.

The same paper you put into the book earlier in the day.

Peter, now fully in the room, takes the paper and shoots a curious glance at Loki, before reading.

I don’t know if you have a cell phone, or even know what one is.

But if you do, feel free to text or call me :)

555-555-5555

-Y/N

“If you tell anyone about this, I shall have your head.” Loki hisses, but there’s no heat behind it. Peter is one of the few humans Loki cares about dearly. The little shit had somehow managed to weasel his way into Loki’s notoriously cold heart within the first week.

And Peter knew this.

“Yeah, yeah,” He smirks, “Why are you showing it to me in the first place?”

“While I know what a cell phone is, I am unsure about how to acquire one. That is where you come in.”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

Loki crosses his arms, fearing he may come to regret this.

***

“What do you want?”

“It’s been a while. Nice hearing your voice.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual.”

“Ouch.”

“Answer my question.”

“I want you to join us, of course. Thought that was clear by now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, figured I’d try... Anyways, I received word that Loki is back on Earth.”

“Not sure why you think I care, or how this concerns me.”

“I would like for you to bring him in.”

“I don’t work for you. Use your own goons.”

“He’s protected by Thor, and the Avengers by default. But you could easily-”

“Like I said. I don’t work for you. Why don’t you try intimidating one of your other experiments?”

“Star-”

“That’s not my name. Goodbye.”

***

Remember Me Taglist: @idunnomayn @savinasavers @stardust-walker @evelyn-4034 @dazedkrosupreme @sophlubbwriting

Permanent Taglist: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella-blog @just-the-daydreamer @hufflely-puffly

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thesoutherngems · 3 years

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Short Stories

"WONDER GIRLS"

By: Lovely T. Duroca

June 12, 2021

It was 3 years ago. I still remember how it felt like going to college for the first time, I was nervous, my heart was beating so fast and it felt like my stomach would turn upside down, anytime soon because anxiety and excitement was building up deep inside me. College is a strange thing for me, it seems like it's a place where everyone battles for their dreams, and according to my some posts that i've read in social media, it's a place where you will get lots of sleepless nights, breakdowns and that surely, you will experience crying yourself out because of school works and tasks, with that, I became scared and I asked myself, will I be able to survive college? Will I be able to get through it alive and still sane? But still, with a nervous smile and a pale face, I walked into my university thinking of my mom and my grandparent's happy and smiling faces. I told myself that I will overcome this, and I will survive and will fight for my dreams because I have those supportive people right behind my back, my hardworking mom, my lolo who has been there with me since I was young, and my lola, a strong woman, who helped my mom raised me to become that lady that I am today, I will fight and get through college for them, that's what I told myself before entering the school's entrance.

But little did I know, the world I was stepping into by that time is so scary, it's unfamiliar, lots of unknown and new faces of students are surrounding me, it's suffocating and it feels like i'm running out of breath, i'm having a hard time breathing, but still, with my nervous and anxious eyes on the ground, I continued walking towards my college department, and I didn't notice that I was holding unto the strap of my bag tightly that it makes my knuckles turns white. I took a deep breath and forced myself to think of positive and happy thoughts, but deep inside, I know I was praying really hard, for that day to be over, I just wanted to go home, crawl into my small bed and hug my fluffy pillow, I just wanted to stay and bring myself back to my comfort zone. I really didn't like going out, surrounding myself with people, because I prefer to be alone and have my own peace of mind. I am an introvert who always chooses to lock myself up in my room, read books, watch my favorite tv series or just listen to music. I hate noise and I have my own world, but the fact that it isn't always like that, that I need to go out, socialize and meet other people because it is necessary, it's hard, but here I am, trying my best out and catching my breaths, forcing my heartbeat to be normal because I have goals, and dreams that I need to reach and fulfill.

Walking in the corridor and seeing that the rooms are becoming nearer each time I took a step forward, my heart started to beat even faster, and when I finally saw the classroom number that was assigned to my com, I was hesitant to go inside, I don't know anyone around and all I can see are unknown faces of students. I saw that there are already students inside, some are just sitting, busy scrolling with their phones, and others are talking to their friends, I inhaled deeply and with a sweaty palm, I step into that room, suddenly, I felt like it became quite, the noise that I heard earlier disappears and I can sense that they're looking at me and it makes me feel more nervous and scared. It seems like I was stepping into a territory that is very foreign and new to me. I continued walking and then I spotted an empty seat on the back, I immediately walked towards that seat and when finally, I was able to sit down, I somehow felt relaxed and a bit at ease. I took my earphones, plugged it in and listened to my favorite music since the professor hadn't arrived yet. I was singing along with the song inside my head when suddenly, I felt like someone poked my shoulder, I turned my head to see who it was and I saw a girl with a long black hair and an eyeglasses, she smiles at me and said,

"Is this seat taken?"

I smiled back awkwardly and replied,

"No, I'm just the only one sitting here."

"Great, then now, we can sit together with you." she exclaimed happily.

I don't know what she meant when she said the word "we" but when I heard that she called a group of three girls, that's when I realized that she's with her friends.

"Hey, girls, here. Let's sit here, together?"

She turned to me and I guessed that she's asking my name. So I said,

"Love, my name's love" while shrugging off the embarrassment that I felt because I really didn't like my name.

"Love, you got such a cute name, my name's Hale by the way, and these are my friends, Jas, Yel, and Miah." she said pointing to the girls behind her, I waved my hands to the girls and said,

"Hello, nice to meet you all."

They smiled at me in return and also said hi.

And those girls eventually became my first friends in college. And I was really relieved that I met them, happy at the same time because finally, I can now have friends that I can be with while we're all battling for our dreams. The professor came in minutes later and he just talked about some rules and regulations and we introduced ourselves one by one to the class. I really didn't like that part, I'm really shy and when it comes to speaking up in front, I'm afraid I might stutter and will just stood there frozen and unable to say anything, but my new friends told me that there is nothing to be afraid of, because we are all the same, we're all students and we're all humans, so when it is already my turn to speak, I held my head high, and I introduced myself to the class, I just imagined that it was just me and no one else in that room, and luckily, I was able to pull it off and I was so relieved after I finished speaking and was able to finally sit down again on my sit. The girls were smiling and said that,

"See, you can do that. You did great."

I smiled and thanked them in return.

Hours passed and it was already lunch time, we were talking and discussing where we should eat and what are we going to eat, then Jas, the girl with braces and shoulder level hair said,

"Let's just go to the cafeteria, there are many food kiosks there, we can choose and decide later."

We all agreed and we immediately went there. But unfortunately, there were no vacant table for us, all are occupied, so we decided to just wait for them to finish eating so we can eat after them, but just when we were about to turn back, someone approached us, I recognized her as one of our classmates as well, the girl with a chinky eyes and chubby cheeks, I just forgot her name when she introduced herself earlier, I'm not really good at remembering names.

"Classmates, you can sit with us, there are still vacant seats on our table."

Yel, the one with curly hair and voluptuous physique, replied,

"Really! Omg! thank you, I'm already hungry."

"Yeah, let's go, our table's over there."

We walked to where their table is and I saw that there are two girls sitting in there and there are also six, vacant seats so it'll surely be perfect for us.

The girls at the table waved their hands at us, one of them with blonde hair and eyeglasses and the other one with braces and pink cheeks.

"Hey, sit down now classmates," said the one with blonde hair.

"Thank you, luckily you guys found us." said Miah, the pretty girl with long straight hair and pale white skin, among us, she's the one who looks foreign, and I think she's half american.

We all sat down and started chattering.

"By the way, what's your name, guys?" I asked them.

"Sorry, I couldn't really remember when you introduced yourself earlier, I'm not good with names."

"Oh it's fine, I'm Sha, these two are my friends, Chaw and Cassie."

After that brief introduction, we decided to go buy our food so we can finally eat our lunch. We continued chatting while eating and my heart is just so happy being with those girls, they're fun to be with and they're full of interesting and funny stories, and little did I know that I was already becoming comfortable with their presence and i'm not my usual quiet and shy self anymore, I also talked with them and laugh with them.

After that 1 hour lunch, we decided to go back to our classroom and we also decided that the eight of us should sit together. We sat on the back and that spot has become our usual seat from then on. College has become easy and fun because of them. Having friends really helped me to survive the days, weeks and months of being a freshman student and as time passed, our friendship also became stronger. We are always together and one of our professor even named our group, WONDER GIRLS, because he noticed that we always hang around each other, that the eight of us wouldn't be complete without one another, we help each other with school works, and we always lift each other up and of course, the best thing is our after school hangouts where we always go to places and try different foods. Each one of us has different characteristics, but that didn't stop us to become friends, instead, it makes our friendship unique and more interesting, and now, we are already in our senior year in college, just two more semesters to go and college will be over, but the friendship that we built along the way, and the memories that we gathered since the first day of school during our freshmen years, will forever be treasured and buried deep inside our hearts. Wonder Girls will always be the best thing that has happened to me in my college years and I will forever be proud and thankful of my girls.

THE END

#short stories #thesoutherngems

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 4 years

Text

His Little Witch~~Part 8

MASTERLIST

Part 7

Main Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Background Pairings: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom, James Potter x Lily Potter, Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson

Tags: SMUT, Swearing, Controlling!Tom Riddle, Controlling Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Possessive Tom Riddle, Soulmates, AU, CANON DIVERGENCE, Minister of Magic Tom Riddle, Out of Character Tom Riddle, nice Tom Riddle, Dumbledore and Tom get along, sane Tom Riddle

Taglist: @chewymoustachio, @peachsnyder138, @marvelous-glims, @ingeniouscollectionthing, @thedarkshiningknight

A/N: Special thanks to @thedarkshiningknight for reaching out to me and inspiring me to continue this story. As of now I am planning on writing 12 parts though it could be more. Love you all so much and I hope you guys like this new update!

————————————————————————

“C’mon guys, just a quick visit. An hour at most.” You were currently trying, unsuccessfully, to convince James and Sirius to let you visit Hogwarts.

“Y/n, you can’t even leave the grounds. Tom made sure of that with that bracelet,” Sirius huffs annoyed.

“You guys are telling me you can’t figure out how to get it off? Really losing your touch eh Padfoot, Prongs?” Ok, you were trying to goad them into helping you but it had been six days. Six days of being locked up in the manor. Tom hadn’t been home yet but he had sent Lily and Remus to tutor you for the time being. Lily and Remus had been staying with you as well, not wanting to be away from their mates for too long.

“Nice try Y/L/N,” James says pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you are not going to suck us into this. We know better.”

“You damn well better,” Remus mutters as he enters the room. “If you two help her, the Minister will have your necks.”

“Don’t worry about us, babe. We aren’t gonna be tricked by a rebellious eighteen-year-old.” Sirius boasts cockily. Remus shakes his head, not quite as sure of that as Sirius was. Sirius tugs Remus down on his lap and nuzzles into his face into Remus’s neck.

“Get a room you two,” you grumble. You normally didn’t mind their affectionate displays but after being away from Tom this long you were getting grumpy.

“Aww, don’t get grumpy just cause you haven’t gotten any lately,” Sirius teases, causing you to throw your book at him. He flicks it away with a chuckle.

“Nice try, love,” he chuckles, only irritating you further. You huff and stomp out of the kitchen and towards your room. You had to find a way out of this house.

“Y/n, you ok?” You heard Lily ask as she trailed behind you. You fling yourself down on the bed as soon as you enter your room, frustrated at the whole situation.

“No, I haven’t seen Tom in six days and he’s off hunting some maniac. We haven’t been apart for this long since we found out about each other. One day is hard enough but it’s been 6 days and no word. Just a couple of check-ins with Percy in the fireplace.” You grumble into your pillow.

“I know sweetie, James, and I haven’t been apart for more than a week since we found out we were mates. And that week was hell.” Lily replies softly, rubbing a hand up and down your back like your mom used to do when you were upset.

“Why were you apart for that long?” You ask, turning to look at her and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“It was the last time Gavin Grindelwald went on a rampage, Harry was little and they needed all hands on deck, even then James and Sirius were Minister Riddle’s right hands. So he had to go with the Minister and his guard to try and hunt Grindelwald down. It took them seven days to catch him that time, and then he escaped a couple of years ago. They couldn’t track him down that time, and now he’s back.” Lily lets out a shaky breath and you can see her hands are trembling a little.

“Lily? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out and putting your hand on her shoulder.

“It’s just he vowed revenge on all those who caught him last time, mainly Minister Riddle but James and Sirius too. To be honest I’m a little relieved they aren’t out there this time. But then I remember how much of a target-” she stops herself remembering who she’s talking to. Her cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment.

“Then you remember how much of a target Tom is and by extension I am. And your husband and best friend are responsible for protecting me.” You finish for her. Her face immediately turns apologetic.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She says softly.

“It’s ok, I know I’m a target. I’m sorry that James and Sirius have been assigned to me. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You whisper as more tears well up in your eyes. You couldn’t stand it if James and Sirius were hurt because of you. How would you ever look Harry in the eyes again? And if something happened to Tom, especially if he was protecting you…

You would die of heartbreak.

————————————————————————

“Little Witch,” you awake to Tom’s hushed voice.

“Tom?!” You ask excitedly as you open your eyes to find him leaning over you.

“Hey love,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“When did you get back?”

“Just now, I’m sorry I woke you, I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Tom. I’m glad you woke me,” you sit up and wrap your arms around Tom’s neck.

“Did you catch him?” You ask after a moment, Tom stiffens at your question and that’s all the answer you need.

“Not yet. But the first task is tomorrow and I have to be there to keep up appearances. We don’t want people to start freaking out. And I missed you. I’ve got the best people on it.” He assures you, nuzzling his face into your hair, and inhaling your scent.

“Except for James and Sirius,” you grumble under your breath.

“They have a much more important task, you.” He replies placing a quick kiss on your nose before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going, Minister?” You ask suggestively.

“Well, darling, I’ve been working for nearly six days straight and I haven’t had time to shower. So I thought before I crawl into bed with my lovely mate I’d better get cleaned up.”

“Why don’t I help you?” You walk over to him and slowly start unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“I would love that, my Little Witch.” He replies moving his hands onto your hips. He quickly pulls your shirt over your head and throws it onto the floor.

“No magic?” You ask as you slid his shirt off his shoulders.

“Sometimes the muggle way is fun,” he whispers against your lips. You hurriedly undo his pants and he kicks them along with his boxers off to the side. He fingers the top of your pants and slowly eases them and your panties off.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he places soft kisses along your inner thighs.

“Tom,” you plead, breathless.

“Yes, Little Witch?” He scoops you into his arms and carries you to the shower stall. He switches the water on before testing the temperature. Once he has determined it to be satisfactory he sets you down in the shower.

“Tom, need you,” you whimper, he backs you against the shower wall and lifts you up by your ass.

“Where do you need me, Little Witch?” Tom asks as he grazes your pussy with his hard cock.

“Tom, please,” you beg as he twists your already pebbled nipples.

“Where, love?” He asks with another brush of his cock along the lips of your glistening pussy.

“My pussy. Please, Tom. Please fuck me,” You plead, making him smirk in triumph.

“Anything for you mate,” he mutters as he lines himself up with you. In one quick motion, he thrust himself into you making you gasp at the sensation.

“Tom,” you let out a low moan causing him to growl as he nips at your neck. His deep and hard thrusts build your pleasure and push you to the brink.

“Cum for me Little Witch,” he commands in a gruff voice. You allow yourself to give in to the pleasure and let yourself come apart around him. He groans, feeling you tighten around him and he finally releases his seed into you. He stays inside you until he begins to soften and then he gently eases out and sets you down carefully.

“That was quite the welcome home, Little Witch,” he teases, walking under the stream of water.

“I missed you a lot. And it’s not as though I had much else to do,” you grumble, remembering that you were supposed to be mad at him.

“We talked about this already,” he huffs, rubbing shampoo in his hair.

“No, you talked about it, and ignored everything I was saying.” You move to help him rinse out his shampoo. You may still be pissed at him but you couldn’t resist touching him after being apart for so long. Stupid fucking mate bond, you think to yourself annoyed.

“Love, I did listen, I just disagreed. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger,” he replies as he squirts some shampoo into his palm and motions for you to turn around. You comply and he gently massages it into your hair.

“Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world,” you argue, switching places with Tom to condition his hair for him after he rinsed the conditioner out of yours.

“Yet you’ve sustained how many injuries there? And the Manor is safer, when I created that bracelet for you I also made sure you were added to the wards, the Manor will protect you. That’s why I prefer you to remain inside while Gavin Grindelwald is still at large. The grounds are protected but it’s safer inside the Manor.” He explains as he gently massages conditioned into your hair. You try to think of a good response while you both rinse out your hair and step out of the shower, but you draw a blank. Dammit, why did he have to make good points?

“I’m not a prisoner, it’s not fair to keep me locked up,” you reply tugging on your silk bathrobe.

“No, you aren’t a prisoner. But you are my mate and that makes you a target for my enemies. I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it pisses you off. I’d rather have you hate me and be alive than love me and be dead,” He whispers in a pained voice. And that’s when you remember what you had heard about his past. Tom’s father abandoned his mother when he found out she was a witch and in her heartbreak, she ended up dying right after giving birth to Tom. Tom had been raised in an orphanage that was overrun with children and never really received much love. Then it had taken him 20 years to find his soulmate, someone he could love and be loved by.

“Tom, I could never hate you,” you place a soft kiss on his lips and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers as his grip on you tightens.

“You won’t,” you promise, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“So can I go to the first task tomorrow?” You ask, making him groan in annoyance.

“Of course, why not? It’s not like there is a psychotic maniac out there who tortures people for fun and has a vendetta against me and anyone I care about.” He replies sarcastically.

“So it’s a yes?” You ask playing dumb as you pull away to get a better look at his face.

“No, absolutely not. We still haven’t caught him. He’s planning something big, and it could easily be happening tomorrow. It’s the first task in the Triwizard Tournament, he knows I have to be there, there will be a large crowd, parents, students, teachers and other citizens. It’s the perfect target. I will not have you go there and be put in danger.” He argues.

“Tom, I’ll be fine, I’ll be with you. There’s gonna be plenty of security measures in place. It’s probably safer for me to be there with you and tons of Aurors than stuck at home with only James and Sirius. Plus Harry’s competing tomorrow, I have to be there and so do James and Sirius.” You plead, looks like this argument was going to be harder to win than you thought.

“No, no. I can’t put you at risk like that. I will not lose you too. Not when I finally found you.” He says harshly, his jaw tightening.

“You aren’t going to lose me. I’ll be fine Tommy. Please.” You beg, throwing him your signature puppy dog face.

“As adorable as you look, you aren’t going to win this with a puppy dog face.” He says smirking at your childish attempt at making him change his mind. Alright, time to switch tactics then.

“What about this?” You ask sliding your silk, black bathrobe off your shoulder and showing off more cleavage.

“Nice try, that isn’t going to work either.” He chuckles, we’ll see who’s laughing in a couple of minutes…

“Alright,” you pretend to give up.

“What?” He asks confused. You ignore him and turn around before shrugging off your robe and slowly sliding it off. You walk over to the bed before climbing onto it and laying down in the middle. Putting yourself on full display for Tom.

“I said alright. Sex isn’t going to convince you to let me go tomorrow.” You say, gently running your hands over your breasts, flicking your nipples softly. You see Tom straighten up and watch you carefully.

“Need some help there, Little Witch?” He asks confidently.

“No thanks. You didn’t want sex,” you reply, running your right hand down your stomach and cupping your pussy.

“No, I said that sex wouldn’t convince me to put you in danger tomorrow.” He argued.

“Well, since I don’t get to have any fun, ugh,” you moan as you rub your clit, “then you don’t get to have any fun.”

“C’mon love, don’t be like that,” he groans and you can see him hardening at your moans.

“All you have to do is say yes Tommy,” you tease, spreading your legs wider to give him a better view of you.

“No, love, I won’t say yes.” He argues but you hear his voice crack when you let another moan.

“Then neither will I.” You tease, sliding your index finger into your pussy slowly. “Aw, Tommy please, just say yes. Then we both can get what we want. Please Tommy say yes.” You beg. You see his guard falling.

“Fine, but you stay by my side the entire time understood?” He relents.

“Yes Tom, I understand.” You agree.

“Now can I help you take care of your problem?” He asks, eyeing your pussy hungrily.

“Yes Tommy,” you whisper breathlessly. He is on you in a second, sliding into you just as quickly. His thrusts are slow and deep, teasing you as you had just teased him.

“Faster Tommy, please,” you beg. He shakes his head, his face breaking out into a smirk.

“Not yet love,” he says before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Please Tommy,” you whimper as he rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Your wish is my command,” he replies before thrusting into you faster and harder.

He locks his lips with yours as he thrusts in and out of you, deep and hard.

“Tom,” you moan as you near the edge.

“Let go, love, cum for me” he commands gently.

“Yes Tom, agh,” you groan as you give in to your release.

“Good girl,” he praises before he stiffens and shots hot jets of cum inside you.

Once you both come down from your high he gently eases out of you and tucks you under his arm. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and then buries his face in your hair.

“I love you,” he whispers softly.

“I love you too Tommy. Everything is gonna be ok.”

“I can’t lose you Little Witch,” he mutters, his voice raw with emotion.

“You won’t Tom, I promise.”

————————————————————————

Part 9

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citylightsbooks · 3 years

Text

5 Questions with Chet'la Sebree, Author of Field Study

Chet'la Sebree is the director of the Stadler Center for Poetry and Literary Arts at Bucknell University and the author of Mistress, winner of the 2018 New Issues Poetry Prize and nominated for a 2020 NAACP Image Award. Her poetry has appeared in the Kenyon Review, Guernica, Pleiades, and elsewhere.

Chet'la will be in conversation with Dantiel W. Moniz, discussing her new book Field Study (published by FSG) in our City Lights LIVE! discussion series on June 5th!

******

Where are you writing to us from?

From my birth month of May.

From the left side of a rented duplex in central PA.

From the third floor in a patterned, blue-velvet armchair across from my teal-painted desk.

And, because I didn’t finish this all at once, from the first floor enjoying the afternoon sun.

What’s kept you sane during the pandemic?

I want to be the kind of person who says exercise. I certainly spent some time on my mat and pounding the pavement, but it has really been food, wine, and fellowship that have held me together. These have always been the things that kept me sane. In grad school, I loved having people over for potluck dinners. But this sort of fellowship surrounding food took on new meaning in the pandemic. It wasn’t just that I learned how to make gluten-free pasta from scratch or placed orders for specialty wine shipments, but it was the sturdy calendar of happy hours and dinner dates kept me going. I did everything from virtual wine tastings to learning how to make injera with poet Diana Khoi Nguyen with home-ground teff to have boozy brunches and movie nights with friends from high school and college.

Right before the pandemic, I transitioned into a new job as a tenure-track professor and director of a university literary arts center and was traveling for my first book, Mistress, which meant sometimes I was in two different cities in one week, while also teaching classes and hosting events. This meant that I spent little time with my friends. Moving around less meant that I could not only reconnect but deepen relationships. Nearly every week since the beginning of the pandemic, I’ve been meeting with prose writers Dantiel W. Moniz and María Isabel Álvarez—both of whom I’d met at a writing residency in 2017. Our first Zoom was an attempt to heal the wound of not seeing each other at a March 2020 conference. What started as a conversation, led to salons, led to work sessions, led to us planning for our own future residencies. We’ve cried; we’ve rooted each other on; we’ve held each other accountable. They kept me going through the last rounds of writing and editing Field Study, and I can’t wait to talk to Dantiel about it on June 5th!

What books are you reading right now? Which books do you return to?

Right now, I’m primarily reading emails and my students’ final portfolios, but I’m so excited for the pleasure reading this summer will bring. When I can sneak a moment, though, I am toggling between three books: Felicia Zamora’s newest collection I Always Carry My Bones; Nana Nkweti’s brand neew Walking on Cowrie Shells; and Philip Pullman’s The Subtle Knife. That last one is a reread; I first read the His Dark Materials series in high school. I often return to books I read in those pre-college years—fantasy and sci-fi novels like Ender’s Game but also Toni Morison’s The Bluest Eye, Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. I like thinking about who I’ve become since first reading them.

The book I would say I return to the most, however, is probably Audre Lorde’s Sister Outsider, or maybe even just specific essays in it: “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” “The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism,” and “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House.”

Which writers, artists, and others influence your work in general, and this book, specifically?

I’m such a sponge, which is part of what made writing Field Study so fun. The patchwork style of quotes interwoven with my own language gave me a space to name names of those that influenced me. It gave me the chance to be in conversation with literary legends and thinkers like Audre Lorde, bell hooks, Tressie McMillan Cottom, and Maya Angelou, while also calling on my brother, best friend, and cousin for insight.

I’m inspired by visual artists like Georgia O’Keefe, Nekisha Durrett, Alison Saar, Carrie Mae Weems, Stephanie J. Williams, and Deborah Willis, but I’m also inspired by theatre, films, dance, television. Who knows what Field Study would be if it weren’t for the TV adaptation of Sally Rooney’s Normal People that came out in April 2020. I am an early-to-bed person, but I finished watching the series at around 11:45pm, got out of bed, and worked on Field Study until 7am. Then, I slept for four hours, got up, and worked for the rest of the day. In watching that well-orchestrated chaos and intimacy, I was taken back to my early twenties, on which Field Study is loosely based. That’s how I work—something gets me in my guts, as poet E.G. Asher would say, and I find my way into the work. It could be a good show, Max Richter’s recomposed Vivaldi, or a nice food and wine paring that gets me going.

I also wrote to an erratic playlist that’s also representative of the diversity of conversations in Field Study. The music included everything from Foo Fighters and Paramore to Erykah Badu and Lauryn Hill to Henryk Górecki and Sol Rising.

If you opened a bookstore, where would it be located, what would it be called, and what would your bestseller be?

My bookstore, URGE, would double as an integrative wellness center with a mind / body / spirit focus. We’re talking incenses and essential oils along with your book of the month picks. There’d be two locations: one on Whidbey Island, where I finished my first book Mistress, and laid the groundwork for Field Study; and the other in DC, which still calls to me even though I moved from the city seven years ago.

My bestsellers would be a tie between anything Audre Lorde (probably not surprising) and anything Bob’s Burgers-related, since my inner circle would know I got the name of the bookstore from the show’s Season 11’s Valentine’s episode: “Romancing the Beef.”

#chet'la sebree #field study #5 questions #city lights live #author interviews #poets

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publiccollectors · 4 years

Photo

Yesterday, merely two years after it was released, I finally finished assembling the very last copies of the Public Collectors publication "Thrash Advertising: Paper Ephemera from Underground Zines and Bands of the 1980s - early 1990s." For two years these stacks of 66 different little pieces of paper were taking up surface space in my studio as I dragged and dragged on finishing this project.

You see, two years ago I had the genius idea to make a publication that celebrated these little copied slips of paper that teenagers made to promote their zines and demo tapes and DIY projects in the underground music scene. They would get stuffed into correspondence or zine mailings to help spread the word for people. Almost everyone hated these little bits of garbage but of course I liked them and saved them because I apparently am some kind of caretaker for this forgotten shit.

A sane person would have said, "Don't make a publication about that." Or they would have said, "If you must make a publication about that shit, just do a normal bound thing and pay someone else to assemble it by machine and call it a day." But oh no! That wouldn't be in the spirit of the stupid ways we did things as teenagers! They had to be facsimiles of the originals and why cut them out using my stack cutter when I could cut most of them by hand with a pair of scissors. This would have been cute if I made an edition of 50 sets with a booklet, stickers, and an envelope to house it all. But 50 sets would have been too exclusive. So of course I made it an edition of 275 copies. And then I cursed that decision. And of course you can't easily sell things that are housed in an envelope in stores. Showing people the publication at book fairs was like a performance of my awesome/stupid idea.

But I soldiered on in the only way I know how. Not by sucking it up and doing all of the assembly labor all at once until I started crying, but by dragging the labor out for as long as possible and crying a little at a time.

So if you want one of these, please order it. It will never be reprinted. It's still just $20.00 and I'll throw in a free copy of the Hardcore Architecture photo zine (normally $8.00) as a bonus so I can help move those out of my life as well. Thanks for coming to my Ted™ talk. Order here.

#Public Collectors #Marc Fischer #Hardcore Architecture #Publications

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nctwd127 · 4 years

Text

Arranged Marriage.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Warning: A pinch of soft smut (?)

Word Count: 3072

Yuta didn’t care if I was going to respond to what he said, he said what he had to say and that’s all that he cared about. He gave me one last look and carried on into his room, making sure that the slam of his door echoed.

I stayed there for what felt like forever, not sure what to think. How was I supposed to react to him telling me he still loved me when I know I didn’t feel the same way? How am I supposed to make things better for him when I was the problem?

Are we supposed to stay married like this?

Back in my room, I changed into more comfortable clothes and got into bed. Lucas and I talked for a bit after I got home and told him what happened with Yuta. He felt some kind of way but he keeps reminding himself that Yuta needs time to process all of this.

After we talked, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling feeling exhausted but sleep wasn’t coming to me. So many thoughts and fears were running through my mind that it was starting to make me anxious. I wanted to sleep so bad so I grabbed my pillow and blanket and made my way downstairs.

I decided between sleeping in the living room or the library and chose the library. It was warmer and it felt easier to spend the night there, like I have before. With the lights of the kitchen and the hallway being off, I carefully made my way to the library.

Once I was inside, I set up the couch and felt myself start to get lost in the comfort of my blanket. The warmth weighed down my eyelids heavily that when I heard the door open, it didn’t make much of a difference to me.

“Why are you sleeping here?”

“Nightmares.” I mumbled, falling into a deep sleep.

The peacefulness seemed to have lasted forever and the warmth around me seemed to be never ending. I cuddled myself more into the blankets, not wanting this moment to end. It was comfortable and the smell of the soft detergent filled my lungs with happiness.

I heard movement around me and for a second I thought I was having some kind of nightmare until I slowly opened my eyes. There was more light than usual and I didn’t understand why. I wiped away the tired from my eyes and opened them fully.

Much to my surprise I wasn’t in the library but in Yuta’s room, laying in his empty bed under his covers. I didn’t understand or remember how I even got here? I was almost sure I fell asleep in the library, no?

“You’re awake.” Yuta’s voice sounded behind me.

When I turned to look at him, he was sitting on his desk facing me. He had a soft look on his face and for the first time, he didn’t cover it with a cold look. It felt almost weird looking at him and not seeing the usual look.

“How did I get here?” I asked, sitting up and pulling the covers to my chin.

It was a reflex at this point to curl into myself whenever he was around me because I was scared that my presence would bother him. So when he sat at my feet, I pulled my feet more into my chest and tried to make myself smaller.

“I was in the kitchen with the lights off getting water before bed when you passed by and scared the shit out of me. I saw that you had your pillow and blanket, so I figured you were going to sleep in there like you have before.”

At the end of his words, our eyes met and there was a clear shock in mine. With everything that’s happened, sleeping in my bed has been difficult. Some days it would be too much for me and so I would come to the only place I knew that would make me feel better, the library.

I was surprised because I wasn’t aware that he knew that I was sleeping there. But I guess I should have known that Yuta is always keeping an eye out for me, no matter how things are between us.

“When I asked why, you said you were having nightmares again. And I couldn’t find it in me to leave you like that so I brought you here.”

Yuta watched the way his words affected me and he felt relieved when I softly smiled at him, “Thank you for taking care of me in a moment like that. And for the other night as well.”

“Of course.” He answered with a soft smile on his own lips.

I pulled the covers off my body and moved myself to get off his bed. My legs were hanging off the side of his bed with my hands resting at my sides. It felt like I was waiting for something and I wasn’t even sure what it was.

The room was silent and when his hand landed on mine, I realized what I was waiting for. I was waiting for him to talk to me. To tell me something I wanted to hear but just like he waited for me to tell him something he wanted to hear, it was never going to come.

There were feelings between us that couldn’t be corresponded and we ran a chance of that never happening again. And that was a reality that we had to accept, that he had to accept. Because I already did.

“(Y/N)…” My name coming from him in such a hushed whisper hurt, because I knew he was hurting just saying my name. But there was nothing I could do to help him.

“I don’t want live like this with you anymore. I don’t want to ignore you every time we’re in the same room, I don’t want to argue every time we talk to each other.”

We looked down at our hands and it felt like there was something more lingering in the air and it started to feel hard to breath. There was a faint feeling in my chest and it scared me to think that I could start feeling something I had to painfully forget.

“I don’t want to either Yuta. I’m tired of always being like this with you. But I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.” I answered truthfully, not taking my gaze away from our laced hands. I watched the way his thumb stroked my hand and his fingers gripped my hand every now and then.

I looked up at him and even if he didn’t remember, I know I did and the way he looked at me now was the same way he looked at me back then. He wore his heart on his sleeve for me and only me.

A Month Later

My life was slowly starting to get back to normal.

Classes began again and we were this close to finally graduating and that was an amazing feeling to have. The first week was beyond stressful, with all the amount of work I had to focus on and just trying to keep myself sane with being out of the house as much as I was again.

Hendery, Lucas, Ten and I were back to normal, in some kind of sense. We did our normality of meeting in the parking lot in the mornings and afternoons, we still had lunch together. After the first week of rushing back home to be in my comfort, they convinced me into coming out a little at a time with them.

Eventually it became the normal again, to be out and about with them. Especially with Lucas again. And that was the most refreshing thing for me, to be in the comfort of Lucas. To be in his home and in his bed, in his arms cuddled and to be asleep without nightmares.

But things were starting to feel a little different between us now. A kind of different that wasn’t good. And we both knew that but weren’t talking about it, we were ignoring it and acting like everything was normal.

And that started to put a strain on us because I wanted to make things better, we both did but that was out of our control. There was nothing we could do because at the end of the day, what was affecting us was that I was married to Yuta.

The same Nakamoto Yuta that was doing everything he can to get us back to where we were before all of this. To the way we were before he lost his memory. But it was hard to do that when he still hasn’t fully remembered everything.

I was trying my best trying to help him but it was hard too when I knew that my relationship with Lucas was on the line. When I knew that things would change if he remembered everything, my life would change all over again if he actually remembered everything the way I did.

Yuta was suffering from having broken details as memories, it was driving him insane not knowing what to do or what to even think. He got the gist of pretty much what happened. But reading the words and having the memories said to him, wasn’t the same as actually remembering them.

He loved me still and he wanted nothing more than to just go back to that. And that’s what pulled me apart every night, knowing that I wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t bring myself to open that part of myself again.

I grieved what I had too when this happened eight years ago, I put it to rest and I gave up. I buried that deep within my heart and I swore that I would never open that part of me again. And I meant it, that accident broke me, every part of me.

I owed it to myself to move on and be happy again with someone else. That someone else was supposed to be Doyoung but then Yuta happened. And now I wanted to be with Lucas and as much as it pained me, I wasn’t going to let Yuta get in the way of that again.

Yuta needed his grieving too and I knew that, I knew all of that and I was tired of everyone saying that too me. But I can’t do anything about it! He doesn’t fucking remember! Am I supposed to force the memories back into this head?! Am I supposed to turn back time for him?!

I can’t do anything, I am just as useless as he is in this situation. And that was the most upsetting thing to know. That there was nothing we could do to make this better.

Until now.

It was Friday night, I finished my shower and was now looking over some notes for a test on Monday. I looked at the time and realized it was already late, it was a quarter past midnight. I closed my book and started getting ready for bed because I made plans to meet with Lucas in the late morning tomorrow.

The lights were dimmed down, because I couldn’t sleep in the dark anymore, and I was pulling the covers off my bed when there was a knock on my door.

First came one and then then two, followed by three. I walked over to my door, confused as to why Yuta was knocking on my door at this time at night and in such a hurried manner. Almost as if it there was something wrong.

I opened the door and before I could ask he was knocking like that, he rushed inside and cupped my face. Startled, my hands automatically came up to his chest and pushed slightly.

“Yuta, what’s going on?” I whispered feeling his heavy breathing hit my face. His eyes were blown out, it almost looked like he was in frenzy. His hair was messy and his forehead had small traces of sweat, he must have been sleeping.

Sleeping and having a memory of us play over.

“I need to remember you.” He said before he brought his lips to mine.

Even though everything was spinning, nothing was processing and nothing was making sense, my lips still responded to his. We were in sync and it was when his tongue came out to lick my bottom lip that I pushed a little harder on his chest, “Wait, what?” I breathed out when he detached from my lips.

“I need to remember (Y/N).” Yuta begged, holding my face tighter to pull me in again and rested his forehead against mine. This time he waited for an answer instead of attacking again.

“Okay.”

He connected our lips again and my hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in more by the hair. His hands left my face and went down past my waist and to my ass. He groped me before he lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.

My back met the door behind him and I felt him press himself into me, trapping me in between. His tongue came out to lick my lip again and this time I let him in. Our noses bumped when our heads moved to the side to deepen the kiss.

Our tongues mixed and mingled, savoring the taste of each other like it was the first time. And it truly felt like the first time again. The feelings, the passion, the fire burning between our bodies.

The lack of air was becoming too much but neither of us wanted to pull away. This was a feeling we haven’t felt in forever now and we wanted to take in every bit of it, I know I did.

I felt myself slipping down the door a bit so I pulled myself back up, forcing my core to grind against Yuta’s growing hard on, causing the both of us to groan into each other’s mouth.

He pulled away first with a nibble on my bottom lip, “Fuck.” He trailed kisses down my neck and started an attack with his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. The pleasure and sting of his bite, made a gasp fall past my lips and goosebumps explode all over my body.

The make out session and now this, I started to feel moisture in between my legs. And I knew that Yuta could feel it through my thin shorts and his thin sweats. He started to grind into me now that he was fully hard.

I moaned his name softly in his ear while I pulled at his hair softy, “Don’t stop please.”

He looked up at me again and connected our lips once more, pulling me away from the door. With our tongues down each other’s mouths, he laid me on bed and settled himself in between my open legs. My hands never left his hair and his left my ass to place them on either side of my head.

With a solid surface under us, he started to grind harder into me. All the moans that fell past my lips were swallowed by his tongue. One of his hands moved from the bed, down to the hem of my shirt, tugging at it.

“Can I take this off?” He asked pulling away enough to see my face. I nodded yes and he gently pulled it over my head, throwing it somewhere on the floor once it was off my body.

Shivers went down my body and I quickly crossed my arms over my bare chest when I realized that this was the first time I was going to be intimate again after what happened. And suddenly all of this felt scary again.

Yuta looked down at me and quickly noticed something was wrong, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

I closed my eyes and nodded no, “It’s just that… this is the first time since… since you know.” I answered feeling the tears burn behind my eyelids. My fingernails dug into the skin of my arms where I was holding them, hoping that would stop the flashbacks from coming through.

A good part of me starting blocking out that memory, knowing that I never wanted to talk about it again, never wanting to relive that moment in time again. And that’s exactly what I would achieve if only the flashbacks would stop.

They would happen suddenly, triggered by the smallest things sometimes. The smell of his cologne would be enough to force my body into a panic and force all the air out of my lungs. The memories of that forsaken day always break me down to my core and throw me into a frenzy of isolation.

Thankfully the boys and Yuta are always there for me when that happens. They sit outside my room and talk to me until I’m comfortable enough to come out to them again. Some days it would take longer to bring me out but they were patient.

And when I do come out, they showed me more love than the first time and definitely more than the last. It was a never ending cycle of love and I just hoped that one day I would be able to repay them for half of what they have done for me.

“Do you want me to stop?” Yuta asked caressing my cheek, his soft touch bringing me back to the moment we were in.

I opened my eyes and looked at his, “No, please don’t.”

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’ll take care of you.” He assured me coming down to peck my lips, “Tell me to stop whenever and I will.”

And suddenly it was the first night we shared together again. The words he said now, were the same ones he said that first night. I was nervous and scared but he was my rock, he took care of me even though he had no idea what he was doing either.

He was doing it all over again, taking care of me when I needed it most. And for that, I loved him, then, now and always.

“Tell me you want more.” Yuta mumbled against my lips, his hands pulling mine away from my chest and bringing them back to his neck.

“I want more.”

Masterlist

~~~

I am truly so sorry for the lack of updating recently. With work and other things going on, it's been hard to post the days that I'm supposed too. Hopefully I'll be able to get back on track soon enough.

With that being said, I am unfortunately not going to be able to post in two weeks because I will be out of town. So as of right now, the next chapter will be up in three weeks.

But in the mean time, please do enjoy this chapter and feel free to leave any feed back, thank you.

Thank you so much to everyone for the support.

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mustangshelby04 · 4 years

Text

Pairings: Chris Evans / Charlotte Mackenzie (O/C)

Summary: Saying no leads Charlotte to a friendship she has never imagined.

A/N: I’m trying to force myself to write. Maybe this will light a fire under my ass.... Or my muse’s. She’s a bit flakey.

Chapter 1

Charlie stood in line with her boyfriend Sam as they waited for their photo-op with Chris Evans. They were second to last in line for the last day of the Comic Con they were at. From the excited giggles of the people in front of them, Chris was posing and having some fun.

Sam was clearly excited. He was Marvel obsessed and had spent more money than any sane person should to get photo-ops with every Marvel cast member. Charlie was just along for the ride. It had been a point of contention with Sam that she refused to dress up with him this weekend. She wasn’t a big movie or TV lover outside of old school Disney stuff and she didn’t get into all the hype of celebrity gossip. She was a book lover and you could usually find her curled up with a book in some corner.

She looked over at Sam, dressed as the Winter Solider and bouncing on the balls of his feet. They had been dating a little over six months and this was the first time she had joined him at one of these things. She wasn’t a fan of crowds and it had been absolute hell for her. The whole weekend she had been regretting saying yes.

“Ok, you guys are next.” The attendant said, leading them into the makeshift photo studio. She was grinning from ear to ear like a creepy Cheshire cat.

Sam rushed in first and started gushing at Chris about how excited he was and how much he loved him as Captain America. Charlie patiently waited for him to finish and then shook Chris’ hand when he extended it to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” She said politely.

“I really like your shirt.” Chris said.

She looked down at her blue Little Mermaid T-shirt she was wearing with skinny jeans and black Converse sneakers. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too!”

“So, what are we doing today?” The photographer asked.

“How about this?” Sam asked. Charlie and Chris both turned to look and Sam was down on one knee with a ring held up at Charlie.

“What the actual fuck?” Charlie gasped.

“Charlotte Grace Mackenzie, will you please marry me?”

“Are you crazy? No!”

“Charlie….”

“Get up!”

“I love you.”

“Oh my god!” Charlie turned and stormed out of the photobooth, leaving Chris and Sam to stare after her.

Charlie sat in the hallway of her hotel next to the door of her hotel room a little while later staring straight ahead at the horrible wallpaper in front of her. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Sam had rushed after her and the two of them had fought about what he had done. He had then left her standing there. When she had finally calmed down, she had gone after him only to find that he had actually taken the car and left her there.

Luckily, they were only three miles from their hotel and she had no problem walking that. She had busted out her cell phone and turned on her GPS to make her way back. When she had gotten there, Sam had left her a note on the door. She looked at the note again, completely flabbergasted that he was such an asshole.

Find your own way home.

They had travelled from Omaha, Nebraska to Chicago, Illinois for this Comic Con in his car. She was desperately trying to hold herself together and not panic, but she could feel it working hard to burst down her carefully placed walls. It was why she had curled up in a tight little ball on the floor and hadn’t gone down to see if she could get a key made for her so she could get into the room. If she spoke to anyone, she was sure she would start bawling her eyes out.

“Is everything ok?” A voice said to her left. She looked up to see Chris Evans standing there and he clearly recognized her. “Oh! Hey!”

“Fuck me.” Charlie sighed as the tears started to leak out. This was so not what she needed. She had completely forgotten that Sam had chosen this hotel because it was where some of the celebrities were supposedly staying. Fuck him for being correct.

Chris shifted his weight and glanced around. “Are you ok?”

“Nope.”

“Are you lost?”

“Nope.”

“Can I offer you any help?”

Charlie closed her eyes tightly. “How about a rewind on the last couple of hours of my life?”

Chris chuckled. “Sorry. That’s a little out of my wheelhouse.”

“Mine too.”

“Seriously, are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest.” Chris sat down next to her on the floor. “He fucking left me here. I have absolutely no way of getting home now.” Charlie wiped angrily at her wet cheeks.

“Where’s home?” “Omaha, Nebraska.”

“Shit, that’s a bit of a hike.”

“Little bit.” Charlie shoved her messy, curly, dark copper hair back from her face as the dam cracked further. “Fuck! What the fuck am I going to do now? I can’t even get into the hotel room because that asshat had the key!”

“Come on.” Chris stood back up and held his hand out to her.

“What?”

“You can use my room to breakdown in and then we can call down to the front desk about that key.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I am. Come on.” Chris reached down again and grabbed her hand this time. She allowed him to lift her to her feet and then lead her down the hallway. He opened the door to his suite and Charlie promptly started sobbing.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped at her tears aggressively again with shaking hands as Chris ushered her to the couch and sat down. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Please don’t be embarrassed. Your boyfriend should be the embarrassed one.”

“Ex-boyfriend!” She dropped her face in her hands and shook her head. “I’m not even sure what it is I’m crying about. That fuckwad sure doesn’t deserve my tears.” Chris walked over to the minibar and grabbed two beers. He popped the tops on them and offered her one. “Thank you.”

“Gotta say, I’ve seen a few proposals at those things, but never a reaction like that.”

Charlie looked over and Chris was grinning hopefully at her. It actually made her laugh. “What is my life right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“My entire quiet little world has been on the precipice of exploding, I just got abandoned in an unfamiliar city by the guy I was seeing, and I’m sitting here being comforted by a celebrity who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Right now, I’m not a celebrity. Right now, I’m a good Samaritan who stumbled across a person in need. It would make my mom proud. Well, except that I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Charlie snorted as he held his hand out to her. “I’m Chris.”

“Clearly.”

“And you are….” He wiggled his hand at her and she relented, shaking it.

“Charlotte. Everyone calls me Charlie, though.”

“Pretty. So, Charlie, your life is about to explode? How so?”

“You’re really asking? Like, you really wanna know?”

“I really wanna know.”

She started picking at the label on her beer bottle. “I’m leaving everything I’ve ever known behind and moving to the East Coast in a month. I think that’s why Sam pulled that shit today. He doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Where are you moving to?”

“Boston.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I accepted a job at Little Brown up there.”

“What’s that?”

“A publishing company. It’s been my dream to become a book editor and I’ve been working towards that goal for the last four years. I finally found a company that’s willing to give me a shot at it, but it’s in Boston.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“I didn’t even want to come to this thing with him, but I figured I would give him one last good weekend before I broke up with him.”

“You weren’t even going to attempt a long-distance thing?”

“When do those ever work out?”

“I don’t know. I’m a hopeless romantic, though.”

“I’m not.” Charlie set her beer down. “I need to get into my room. See if he left my things or destroyed them. Knowing my luck, he’s set everything on fire.”

“I don’t think he did that. The fire alarms haven’t gone off.”

“Good point.” She pointed at the phone on the desk. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Charlie walked over and picked up the phone, dialing the front desk. “Hi, my name is Charlotte Mackenzie. I got locked out and I need a key to get in.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t see you registered in our system.”

“No. My boyfriend…. Ex-boyfriend made the reservation. It’s under his name. Sam Cooke. Room 828.”

“Mr. Cooke checked out.”

“What?”

“Mr. Cooke checked out a little while ago.”

“But my things are in that room.”

“I’m so sorry about that. Mr. Cooke didn’t mention that there was anything left in the room. We can send a maintenance man up to let you in to get your things.”

“I kind of need a place to stay tonight.”

“We’re completely booked up, but you’re more than welcome to rent that room for yourself.”

“Ok. Yeah. I can do that, I guess. How much is it?”

“For tonight, the room would be $238 plus tax.”

Charlie choked on air and started hacking. Chris came over and patted her on the back, taking the phone from her. “Hi, this is Eric Prince in suite…. Yeah. Look, can you just put that room on my bill? I’m certain. I would appreciate that. Thank you.” He hung up and offered Charlie a bottle of water.

Once her breathing was back to normal, she shot a confused look at Chris. “Eric Prince?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Prince Eric…. From The Little Mermaid.”

“Oh.” Charlie blinked for a minute. “Did you just pay for my hotel room?”

“I did, yeah. Was that not ok?”

“I mean…. It’s your money, you can do whatever with it, but you don’t even know me.”

“I’m not someone who can just sit here and listen to someone in distress. If I can help, I’m going to help.” There was a knock on the door and Chris went over to answer it. Charlie stayed seated on the couch, sipping at her water. When he came back, he presented her with a key card. “Your room key.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Charlie took it. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s no problem. Let me know if you need any more help or someone to hang out with.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, like Mr. Big-Shot Needs-A-Fake-Moniker has no one better to hang out with.”

He frowned slightly. “Actually, I don’t have anyone to hang out with. I ditched my team for a quiet night in. Being around all those people all day long…. I need a recharge.”

She nodded. “I understand that. I’m more of an introvert with some extroverted tendencies. When I’ve reached my limit on people, I just need to stay in and hide. Especially if there’s a crowd.”

“Same.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Would you like to hang out with me, Charlie? We can recharge our batteries, maybe order a pizza, rent a movie….”

“If you’re sure, then ok. I just want to run and make sure he didn’t destroy my stuff.”

“That makes sense.” Chris followed her down the hallway to her room. When she opened the door, she let out an angry groan while he let out a shocked whistle. Her suitcase had been hurled across the room and it’s contents were scattered everywhere. In the bathroom, he had squirted out all of her toothpaste, broken her toothbrush in half, destroyed most of her makeup, ripped the rows of bristles out of her hairbrush, and dumped her expensive curly hair products down the drain.

“No, no, no, no!” Charlie ran over to the suitcase and lifted it up. Her laptop made sounds like little metal pieces were moving around inside. “Fuck!”

“Shit! He actually broke your laptop?”

“What the hell is wrong with that guy?” Charlie started crying again as she held her broken laptop.

“A broken heart is one thing, but this….”

“He can’t have a broken heart. We weren’t together that long!”

“Wait, how long were you two together?”

“Six months. Today was the first time he even said he loved me.”

“Had you said it to him?”

“No!” She looked over at him. “What are you doing?” Chris had started to move around the room and picking her clothes up off the floor.

“Helping.” He started to fold the shirt in his hands.

“You really don’t need to do that.”

“I know I don’t. You really don’t need to be so difficult.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. This is just a really fucked up situation and I’m not even sure which emotion it is I’m feeling. And I really don’t mean to take it out on you. Thank you for helping me. It’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They worked together to collect her belongings and pile them on the bed. Once they finished, the two of them tackled the bathroom. Chris took pictures of everything and sent them to his assistant with instructions to purchase them and bring them to his room. Charlie stopped when she got to a beautifully ornate compact mirror. It was antique silver with filigree designs carved into it and little jewels set to resemble a starry night sky. A few of the jewels were missing and the glass inside had been broken. She clutched the compact and started to sob.

“Hey….” Chris gently pulled her into a hug.

“This was my mom’s. My dad gave it to her as a wedding present when they got married.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“They died when I was eleven.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe he broke this. He knew it was one of the few things of hers I have left.”

After Charlie had cried herself out, Chris helped her finish cleaning the bathroom and they went back to his room. She curled up on the couch and he sat down on the opposite end. They were quiet for a long moment before he finally broke the silence. “I don’t normally do this.”

“What?”

“Invite strange women to hang out with me.”

“I never said you did.”

“I know, but…. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to get in your pants or anything.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you want me to think that?”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.”

“What do you think my impression of you is?”

“I’m not sure. You’re not like most women I’ve met.”

“How so?” “Well for starters, you ask a lot of questions.” Charlie chuckled. “You’re also like this open book that I can’t read.”

“That’s the most interesting thing anyone has ever said about me. What does that mean?”

“I…. Ok, so you drop these seemingly big clues about your life. You were incredibly vulnerable when you told me that your parents died and you’ve cried in front of me while I get the feeling that you don’t do that in front of people very often if you can help it, but none of those clues lead me any closer to being able to figure you out.”

“Do you want to figure me out?”

“I kind of do.” “Why?”

Chris smirked. “I like to read.”

Charlie and Chris sat on the couch with a half-empty pizza box between them. A pay-per-view movie was playing on the TV, but they weren’t paying attention to it. The two of them had been talking for hours. He found it a welcome relief that she didn’t care about him being a celebrity and that she didn’t know anything about him. It felt great to actually get to know someone.

“I’m really impressed.” Chris said as he looked at the pictures on her phone. “You made out like a bandit on this.”

“I just hope there aren’t any crazy issues I’ll have to fix.” Charlie was showing him the house she had bought sight-unseen at an auction. It was a two story Colonial house in Concord.

“You realize we’re practically neighbors?”

“Are we?”

“Yeah. I just bought a house about two miles away from here.”

“That’s weird.”

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?”

She laughed. “Trust me, I don’t give two shits about your celebrity status. Unless you wrote a book. Then watch out.”

Chris handed her back her phone. “The commute to Boston might be crazy.”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t mind. There’s a train station and all the research I’ve done says it’s about an hour commute.”

“It is. You’re going to love Concord.”

“Where did you say you grew up again?” “Sudbury.”

“Gotcha.”

“So, Mac, what made you want to uproot your life like this?”

Charlie laughed at the nickname he’d chosen. She usually hated it when people tried to call her that, but for some reason Chris made it sound endearing. “You really want to open that can of worms?”

“I really do.”

“Ok.” She took a deep breath. “So, you know mom and dad died in a car accident when I was eleven. What you don’t know is that my twin sister was in the car with them.”

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah. I went from having a full family to being alone.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“My aunt took me in and raised me. Aunt Millie…. She was living with her second husband in Omaha when she got the call that her brother and sister-in-law had died. She flew out to Maine and stayed with me. My parents had just written their wills and hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her that they’d named her guardian of their kids.” “I bet that was a big shock.”

“For everyone. My mom’s parents thought that they should get custody of me, but aunt Millie wanted to honor my parents’ wishes. She ended up fighting them in court and the judge ruled in her favor. When the school year ended, we moved to her house in Omaha. About a year later, she found out her husband was cheating on her and plotting to take my inheritance.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. It was a pretty significant amount. My mom’s family was pretty well off. She had a trust fund which became mine when she died and my parents had really good life insurance. My grandparents added the money to that trust fund that they intended to put into mine and Max’s trust funds…. Max was my twin. Her name was Maxine.”

“I couldn’t even imagine losing all of that.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three. One older sister, Carly; my younger brother, Scott; and my youngest sister, Shanna.”

“That’s a lot of siblings.”

“Yeah.” Chris took a sip of his beer. “So, back to you. I didn’t need to pay for your room, did I?” Chris smirked at her to let her know he was joking.

“You really didn’t. I just…. I don’t really like to touch that money. After what happened with aunt Millie’s second husband and then her third and fourth husbands…. I figured money ruined people’s lives.”

“What happened with her husbands?”

“They basically used her to try to get to that money. After what happened with her second husband, my grandparents made it very hard for her to touch my inheritance. I didn’t even have access to it until I graduated college. By then, I had learned the value of a dollar by watching aunt Millie work her ass off to keep me clothed, fed, a roof over my head, and in good schools. I had part time jobs throughout high school and college to help her. I used scholarships and grants and a couple of student loans to pay for my college education. I’ve only used that money for three things.”

“What were they?”

“To take aunt Millie to Europe before she died and to pay for that house in Boston.”

“Your aunt is dead?”

“She died about two years ago. Pancreatic cancer. That’s the third thing I used that money on. I paid for all of her medical bills.”

“I’m so sorry, Mac. That’s a lot to go through in only thirty-three years of life.”

Charlie shrugged. “It is, but what can I do about it?”

“When was the last time you’ve been to the East Coast?”

“I visited my grandma in Maine last year when she died.”

“Did you have a good relationship with your grandparents?”

“It was ok. They loved me in their own way. Mom was an only child and I was their only grandkid. They sent me money for my birthday and Christmas. I got Easter baskets from them, too, and I would go out for a week in the summer when I was younger because the court’s said I had to. Those weeks…. Makes me glad that I ended up with aunt Millie. My grandparents weren’t home very much. I hung out with their butler in the summers. When I turned 18, I stopped going. I let aunt Millie have the birthday and Christmas money after that.”

“Wow. You should write a book.”

“Why?”

“Because your life has been…. Eventful and I would even call it inspiring.”

“Maybe one day I will. For now, I prefer to give other people chances to get their voices heard.”

“Is that what appeals to you about being a book editor?”

“Yes. I’ve read some amazing books in my life and I used to wonder what it would be like to be the editor that gets the copy across their desk. To be the first person to read it outside of the author and their family and know that what I have is going to make a lot of other people happy. Not to mention the author. Plus, I’ve been known to be a stickler for grammar, so why not put that skill to use.”

Chris chuckled. “You haven’t corrected my grammar once.”

“You’re pretty eloquent, Evans, but I’ve been silently correcting you.”

That made him tip his head back and laugh loudly, his right hand slapping against his chest. It sucked Charlie in and they both laughed freely. After a few minutes, they finally calmed down and wiped their eyes. “I’m really glad I asked you to hang out with me, Mac.”

“I’m glad I said yes despite the shit circumstances. I really wanted to stay in by myself and hide from the world.”

“Why did you say yes, then?”

“You said the right thing.”

He grinned. “Good. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Please let me know if you want to be tagged in this story. The more people that want to read it, the better. I want my muse to feel the pressure!

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@joannaliceevans-fanficblog

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@southerngracela

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#chris evans #OC Charlie McKenzie #OC Charlotte Mackenzie #no #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction

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thatoneitaliangirl · 4 years

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Obey Me! Soulmate AU!~ Lucifer

I don’t know how to write for Lucifer all that well, so Idk how I feel about this one. I might go back and re-write it later. Anyway, I most likely will make part two’s for each part if their’s enough requests. Only after I’ve finished the main seven though. So if this feels like it left off with an unsatisfying ending, don’t worry! There’s about a 60% chance of a part two! Hehehe . . . . With love, JJ!~

(P.S. Here’s the link to the opening paragraph!)

Lucifer

He was a hard shell to crack, but when he gave in and agreed to look for his soulmate, the hunt was on! Each brother was told to follow their instincts and it would lead them to their soulmate. They’d know who it was by a feeling, whatever that means. With a hop, skip, and a jump, they made their way to the human world and began their search. Lucifer was the first since he was the eldest. His soulmates name is _____ _______. Lucifer looks at his younger brothers with concern.

"I don't think this is the right place." They all shrug, just as confused as him. In front of them is an old, barely stable apartment building with some windows boarded up and other broken. It doesn't even look livable.

"Maybe she's homeless?" Mammon questions, just as confused as the firstborn. With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer enters the building, insisting his brothers wait outside. He doesn't want to be embarrassed by whoever their father deemed 'worthy' of the eldest son. What kind of sick game is their father playing that this is the condition of his 'soulmate's' living quarters?

Was he trying to strip him of his pride? Of his dignity? His image? Maybe he wanted Lord Diavolo to look down upon him for having such a disgusting, horrible, ugly-!

"I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!" A warm body presses down on him as he's knocked to the floor, the air in his lungs thrown out from the harsh blow. Looking up, a young girl sits upon him, leaves in her hair and a few dirt patches on her skin. And even though her clothes are a little wrinkled, their not dirty or grimy. And she smells quite nice. Like mint and citrus.

"Oh my God, I knocked the wind out of you! Can you speak? Am I crushing your lungs?!" She hops up off of him and tries to pull him up but fails. "God, your heavy-! Not that your fat! Definitely NOT saying that!" Lucifer, still confused, stands up on his own with little to no help from the girl. "Is your name _____ _______?" She wrinkles her nose.

"Yes. How do you know?" She instantly goes on the defensive and crosses her arms, giving him a look of suspicion. "What are you doing here in this . . . Place?" He gestures around to the abandoned building. "For your information, I'm investigating!" Lucifer raises an eyebrow. She sighs and rolls her eyes.

"You have to know the history of this building! Why else would you have come here?" He gives her another look and she groans. "This is the sight of the Frankenburge Massacre! The one where fifteen people died but only one strand of hair was found of the killer! And it still remains unsolved fifty years later! I'm a ghost hunter, genius."

"Ahh," Lucifer says, still very very confused. She continues on about the history of this building and how its the reason she got into the a-cult growing up. She goes on and on about how they are trying to get a permit to tear it down, but she thinks if she can prove its haunted, the historical society will claim it and it will be named a historical site.

Listening to her ramblings, Lucifer takes a moment to look her over. The way her eyes light up, talking about this strange building reminds him of the way Mammon's eyes brighten when talking about his credit card. It brings a smile to his face, comparing the two in that way.

Her hair falls and frames her face in just the right way to make her look angelic and the shine is almost blinding. He can't help but feel this amazing warmth spread through his body at the thought of her talking about him with that same glowing look surrounding her.

Maybe its the way the human world sun is shining through the window, or maybe it's this girl putting a spell on him with the same twisted magic Soloman has used. Either way, he knows now why _____ was chosen to be his soulmate.

After much convincing and confusion, _____ eventually understood who this man was. All the paranormal investigations and youtube videos could never prepare her for meeting THE Lucifer. She had so many questions, and according to what her soulmate said, a long time to get them all answered. Meeting his brothers was a breeze.

Her charming personality and charismatic way's pretty much won all of them over. Even Satan liked her, though he refused to admit it. Eventually, it was time for them to all go. The others had to look for their mates, and spending too much time in the human world makes them ill.

"Does this mean I'll see you again? What am I saying, I have to, right? Cause we're soulmates and all." Lucifer laughs and places a hand on her shoulder. "We will most definitely see each other again." Reaching into his pocket, Lucifer covers his love's hand with his gloved ones and smiles at her.

"I will be back as soon as I can, _____." She opens her hand, finding a soft, black feather. Mammon looks over at his brother making puking noises. "Your so sappy."

"I know, Monica, but I can't! I told you last time, I have a . . . Someone now." _____ states into the phone while folding her laundry. "Yeah, I know. You keep saying that." Her friend, Monica sighs into the phone from the other end. Her plans to take her friend on a blind date have been thwarted yet again.

"I'm just saying, I've never seen this person, and you only met him, what, two weeks ago? In an abandoned building no less. It all just seems . . . Suss." "And I get that! But you just don't understand-"

"Understand what, sis? Cause one minute you were with a different guy every other day, and now your all lovey-dovey with a man I have yet to lay eyes on. I'm concerned, is all, _____." _____ coughs into her hand and rubs her face. She can't very well say that she's soulmates with the literal Lucifer.

It's true that she can't usually stick to a guy, but that's because it never felt right. No matter what guy she went on a date with, they never felt like 'the one.' But then she met Lucifer and it all made sense! She felt complete that day, and she knew from the beginning that he was the one.

That could have something to do with why she was so willing to accept the whole soulmate thing. Any normal person would have booked it out of there the moment magic was mentioned. Or when he said his name was Lucifer, that right there is enough to get any sane individual to call the cops. But they're soulmates through and through.

And these past two weeks have been the best days of her life! He gave her a smartphone from the Devildom, and they talk every day! And on days he can't talk, they text. "Look, I get that you're concerned for me, and I'm grateful, but I know what I'm doing. I'm very happy with him . . . I love him." A smile comes to her face as she thinks about Lucifer, dressed up in his long coat like the day she first met him.

"You sure are head over heels, girly. Just, be careful, kay?" "Yes, ma'am!" Monica laughs and hangs up the phone. A few seconds later, a text pops up on her Devildom phone. 'Move in with me.'

#obey me! x reader #obey me! lucifer #obey me! soulate au #soulmate au #lucifer x reader

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meteora-writes · 4 years

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We Could Be Perfect One Last Night ch.6

Fandom: Hannibal Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham Warnings: Mild Angst, Silly Accents, Snark, Original Characters, More Snark Chapter: 6. We’re Not Celebrities Description: Six days after they arrive at the cabin Hannibal takes a trip to gather more supplies and reaches out to Chiyoh for assistance. Authors Notes: So I was going to add a scene with Jack in this chapter, but it was running long and I scrapped it for now. Hope you all enjoy. Read on AO3

~~~~~ Read Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5~~~~~

“You’re sure you want to go alone?” Will asks for the third time since Hannibal announced he would be taking the motorcycle and heading into town to purchase a disposable phone at one of the mini-marts they passed on the way to the cabin six days prior.

After two days of snow and another four days of low temperatures, the weather had finally warmed enough to melt away the majority of the snow and ice that covered the dirt road that connects the cabin back to the highway. It’s a three-mile stretch. And another four to the closest shop. So they’ve had to wait for the weather to be on their side before either of them could attempt to go anywhere.

“Will, you know as well as I that the authorities are likely looking for us. If only one of us goes out at a time we are far less likely to be noticed. I should only be gone a half-hour at most.” Hannibal looks a touch amused by Will’s worries as he buttons the cuffs of his leather jacket. There’s a hint of mirthfulness in his eyes that’s hard to miss.

“Maybe I should go instead. You do have a fairly distinct accent. If you speak around the wrong people they could call the police,” Will finds himself suggesting. In truth, he doesn’t want either of them to go. But they’re running low on food and they need a phone to reach out to Chiyoh sooner than later.

Hannibal chuckles and shakes his head as he finishes buttoning his cuffs and quickly zips his jacket. “I am perfectly capable of concealing my accent when the situation calls for it,” he informs Will in an almost perfect British accent. “Or would you prefer I try to sound more like you, perhaps?” he tries in a more Americanized pronunciation. It doesn’t quite work, though. One would almost think it was a New England accent, except the vowels still sounding too European in pronunciation.

Will can’t help himself when Hannibal tries to imitate an American accent, the urge to mess with the other man is just too strong to resist. “Not bad, cher. Sept I don’t tink you got dem vowels quite right. Might get people askin’ who dat if you not careful now.” The slightly over-exaggerated thick Cajun accent gets a look of clear surprise from Hannibal that has Will trying hard not to bust out laughing by the time he finishes speaking the words. “Mo chagren,” he adds with a grin that pulls painfully at the stitches in his cheek before going on. “I’m from Louisiana. I speak as clear and concisely as I do exactly because I knew no one would take me seriously if I spoke in that dialect or even just that accent this far east.”

“Shame. I would love to hear you speak French more often,” Hannibal laments with a small smile that’s all teasing. It earns him a hint of pink in Will’s cheeks that only makes his smile grow.

“Unfortunately my French is abysmal at best,” Will informs him before clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. “We only ever spoke it when visiting my grandparents and cousins for the holidays, and that was over twenty years ago,” Will adds with a shake of his head as he avoids looking Hannibal in the eyes. “Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Of course.” Is all Hannibal says in return before he heads out the door.

Will watches him take off, not looking away until the motorcycle is out of sight. He knows Hannibal going on this run is necessary. That they need food and that phone. But that doesn’t change the anxiety he feels at Hannibal going without him.

They’re both recovering slowly. Hannibal still can’t stand for too long, but he can do so for long enough that this run shouldn’t be a problem. Part of Will worries it’ll be too much, but he trusts Hannibal to know his own limits. As for Will, he still can’t get up from a horizontal or even a sitting position without his head feeling like it’s going to explode, which is apparently common for skull fractures. He’ll take that over the irritating feel of stitches in his mouth any day.

The only thing that’s helped him stay sane, aside from talking with Hannibal about nothing important, is the tackle box of fishing supplies he found in the rafters on the second day of the storm. There were enough supplies inside for him to make a dozen lures with plenty of odds and ends to spare. He would have made more, but without his glasses or a magnifying glass to help him work on the smaller details, he’s been working at a snail’s pace.

He eyes the lures where they rest on the wooden table in the center of the room. Hannibal had taken to watching him work from the couch more often than not, usually with that notebook in his lap as he continued to sketch. Will didn’t ask what he was sketching after the first day. He figures it’s a toss-up between Will being his continued subject, or he’s drawing places he’s been or other people he’s seen.

The notebook rests beside the tackle box. It’s open. Page showing a half-drawn landscape that Will doesn’t recognize. Curiosity gets the better of him after a moment and he picks the book up to get a closer look.

It’s a meadow by a stream. Dozens of tiny flowers stretching out over the page until they meet a rocky riverbed. The rocks and pebbles have the most detail so far. The flowers only faint outlines. The detail of the river is what really surprises Will. It has shading to it that in the right light makes it look like the water is moving.

After a moment, he flips the page back, wondering what else Hannibal could have been drawing these past few days.

Sure enough, there are a few sketches of Will in with various cities and landscapes. Not all are finished, like his inspiration shifted mid drawing and he had to move on to something else until later.

The drawing Hannibal made their first night in the cabin has Will sitting down and studying it in awe. It’s the most detailed of the ones in the book. Capturing even the smallest details of the setting. The wrinkles in the shirt Will wore that was too big for him. The bit of torn leather on the back of the couch he had been tugging at mindlessly. The shadows cast by the firelight to his back. Even the faint bruises and scrapes on his hands and arms are there.

Despite it being a portrait of himself, Will feels like he’s invading Hannibal’s privacy looking at it like this. He flips the book closed and sets it down beside the tackle box once more before running his hands through his shaggy brown curls. He suddenly feels like the cabin is too small. Like he needs to get out.

He throws on his boots and jacket quickly, not bothering with gloves or any other layers to help him keep warm in his rush to just get up and go.

It’s early afternoon. Sun warm in the sky above. But it’s still only in the forties out and there’s a bit of a breeze that makes it feel just as cold as it actually is. Will feels like the wind cuts right through him the minute he steps out into it. It’s a welcome sensation. Letting him draw a deep breath in through his nose that fills his lungs and calms his nerves.

There’s a shed behind the cabin. Hannibal had moved the motorcycle in there before the storm hit. Will hasn’t taken a look inside before now and he’s a bit disappointed by its contents. There isn’t much to be found. Some old tools, metal buckets, a large hatchet, and a rusty jerry can.

Eyeing the hatchet a moment, Will grabs it and turns to the stack of wood beside the house. It’s mostly down to larger pieces. Ones that need splitting. Hannibal had said they would be fine for a while with what was already broken down. But Will doubts it, eyeing the pile now for himself.

It’s stupid, he knows it is. But he needs to do something with himself. So, he grabs a piece of wood, gets it set out on a nearby stump that’s clearly where the previous occupants of the cabin cut wood before, and swings.

His shoulder protests the action. Arm twitching at the use of muscles and tendons that aren’t ready for this kind of movement. The pain it causes is grounding, though. So, he shakes the ax free from where it stuck in the wood, fixes it’s position on the stump, and swings again. This time cutting the wood clean through the center. The pieces fall to either side of the stump, clattering on the frozen ground.

“Still got it…” Will mutters to himself before he picks the pieces up and tosses them onto the short end of the pile beside the house. Hannibal will likely give him hell for this when he returns. But that’s a problem for later. He sets up the next piece of wood with a small smile to himself and gets ready for a workout.

~~~~~

The mini-mart is busy when Hannibal pulls up and parks on the far side of the lot. It’s a relief. Busy shops mean less likelihood of being noticed unless you act out of the ordinary. One of the things he prides himself on is his ability to act normal even in the most unusual of circumstances.

There are a few old bikers in the lot. Talking outside the front door as they smoke cigarettes and stand around their bikes. One spot Hannibal as he sets his helmet on the handlebars of his bike and grins.

“Nice ride,” the older man calls out as he nods to the motorcycle beside Hannibal.

“Thanks,” Hannibal calls back, taking care with how he pronounces the word to make it sound more Americanized. “Nice jacket,” he adds when he notices the various patches on the jacket denoting the man as being part of a group that he’s read about in news articles that helps protect children that were victims of abuse. He may find the culture to be crude, but what they do with their time is admirable.

The biker grins at the compliment, sporting a few missing and broken teeth that look like the guy might have lost in an accident at some point. Other than that they don’t say anything and neither does his buddies as Hannibal walks past.

The shop is a decent size on the inside. Sporting a liquor section and impressive deli and fresh food area. It’s almost all junk. But it has vegetables and fruit, of which Hannibal is grateful. He grabs a basket and makes a b-line for the small aisle with the disposable phones and other odds and ends first.

He scans over the tops of the shelves as he walks, observing his surroundings and the other patrons as he starts filling the basket with goods. There are three cashiers working. Half a dozen other customers milling about, two more talking by the soda fountain in the back of the deli area, and another three at the registers buying whatever it is they came to buy.

Nobody pays anybody else any mind. Even the workers seem disinterested in everyone else. It’s reassuring. As is the fact that he only sees a single security camera and it’s pointed at the registers. He can easily stand so that his face isn’t in view and just make it look like he’s simply distracted.

There’s a stack of newspapers by the case the freshly made sandwiches are kept in, and Hannibal grabs one of each along with a few days worth of fruit and sandwiches. He’s already grabbed them some more drinks, not trusting the water from the well and not wanting to have to boil it every time they need some. And much as he dislikes it, he also grabbed some more cans of soup.

Thankfully, though, this shop also had a dairy case with eggs and breakfast meats inside, which means he can cook a real meal for a change. In the end, he has much more than he intended to buy. But he wants to be able to make at least a few meals that aren’t made from cans and boxes or were pre-made by someone in a hairnet.

“Feeding an army?” the cashier asks as she begins to ring up and bag everything. She’s in her late teens, clearly bored and not even really paying attention as she works. For a second it strikes Hannibal how much she looks like Abigail and he has to shake the thought off before he can say anything.

“Lost power in that storm. Need some things to hold us over until they get it up and running again,” Hannibal explains in as dismissive a tone as possible while maintaining the accent he’s going for.

“You must live pretty far out if you don’t have power back yet,” she notes, still not really paying him any mind.

That makes Hannibal huff a laugh and he almost turns to face her fully but stops himself so his face isn’t in view of the camera. He doesn’t answer her, and the girl doesn’t say anything else until everything is run up and bagged.

He pays her and hooks the various plastic bags over his arms before heading back outside.

The bikers are still standing around chatting, several looking over to give him a nod of approval for his choice of a ride once more as he heads to his bike and gets ready to leave.

The ride back is faster than his ride out. Anxious to get back to Will and to take a look at the papers he picked up. He also grabbed the more expensive disposable phone the shop had on the shelf. It’s a smartphone with internet capabilities. One he hopes will still have a decent connection this far from town. He would very much like to see what Freddie Lounds has written about himself and Will at this point.

The sight he arrived back to is an unexpected one.

Will is outside. Jacket off and sleeves of his dark red flannel shirt rolled up his forearms as he chops wood beside the cabin. He’s been at it for a while. Damp curls sticking to his forehead with sweat. He doesn’t pause in his work even as Hannibal pulls up a few feet away and parks the bike.

“You’ll tear your stitches,” Hannibal chides gently as he removes his helmet and studies Will with a tilt of his head.

“My stitches are fine,” Will huffs out as he swings the ax once more. He cuts clean through the log in one swing. His face is a mask of focus as he grabs the next piece and prepares to swing again like he isn’t recovering from multiple stab wounds and likely in a great deal of pain.

“Feeling a bit of cabin fever?” The question makes Will stop and tip his head back as if to look to the heavens and ask why he’s chosen to be with this man.

“I just needed some air,” Will explains with a shake of his head before laying the hatchet beside the tree stump he’s been using as a chopping block. “I take it your shopping trip went well?”

Hannibal nods as he finally climbs off the bike and grabs the plastic bags from where he had slung them over the handlebars. “It did,” he agrees as he holds a bag out of Will to carry. He takes it readily and follows Hannibal inside the cabin a moment later.

“Did you buy every paper in the store?” Will asks as he looks inside the bag. There are four different major newspapers, three local printings by smaller companies, and a single tabloid tucked under the cellphone and international phone card Hannibal had grabbed.

“I was curious to see what has been going on for the past several days,” Hannibal notes as he sets the two bags containing groceries on the small sideboard by the stove. “And I thought the reading material might be appreciated.”

Will snorts a laugh at that but says nothing as he steps up beside Hannibal, shooing him away to sit while Will puts things away.

Part of him wants to protest and assist in putting away their things, but he already feels his energy leaving him, so Hannibal goes and hangs up his jacket before taking his usual seat at the table. The bag with the phone and papers sits on the floor next to his chair, and he picks it up, pulling the phone from inside to begin removing it from its packaging.

“Is there anything in particular that I should ask Chiyoh to acquire for you while she’s making preparations for us?” Hannibal asks once he has the phone powered on and is waiting for the activation signal to go through.

Will glances over his shoulder at Hannibal from his place kneeling in front of the mini-fridge. “A pair of glasses? It’s going to be hard to read navigation charts without them,” It’s a minor inconvenience, but still one he would rather not deal with. He gets a migraine if he tries to read for too long without his glasses. He’s already got a near-constant one thanks to the fracture in his skull from being stabbed.

Humming his understanding, Hannibal looks back to the phone in his hands. He was never a fan of mobile phones. Too easy to track a person by or interrupt one's plans. At the moment, however, he sees it as a necessity they have to hold onto, at least if he’s able to contact Chiyoh.

The number he calls once the phone is activated is one he’s had memorized for ages. It goes to a small shop in England that an old family friend of his aunt owns. It’s run by her granddaughter now. She’s well aware of who Hannibal is and what he’s done. She only owns the shop now because of an unfortunate incident with her grandfather some ten years ago that left him comatose and her and her grandmother free of his abuse for the first time in their lives.

“Lorelai’s Sweets, how can I help you?” A familiar, warm alto voice answers after two rings.

“Hello, Lori,” he greets back, his own tone just as warm. She was always a kind girl and it seems that hasn’t changed in the years since he saw her last.

Will pauses in his putting away of their supplies to look over at Hannibal as he speaks on the phone. Clearly a bit confused by Hannibal greeting someone that isn’t Chiyoh.

“Hanni! Oh, thank goodness you’re alive! They said on the news that you and that former special agent friend of yours had drowned after escaping and killing the Red Dragon!” The relief in her voice is oddly comforting. “Are you alright? What can I do for you, love?”

A small smile tugs at his lips over her concern. “A bit inconvenienced, but otherwise alright, thank you for asking. I’m calling because I need to reach Chiyoh, have the two of you stayed in contact?”

“Chiyoh? Oh, yes! She started coming round to visit just after you turned yourself in to the authorities. She was here for one of her visits just last week, in fact. Left the day you escaped. I believe she’s in Maryland right now,” Lori explains as she shuffles about the shop, no doubt in the process of closing for the evening since there is a five hour time difference between the east coast and London.

“Wonderful. I suspect I know where she is, then. Thank you for your help, Lori. I’ll call again if I require any further assistance in locating her.” He doesn’t think that will be necessary, though. If Chiyoh is in Maryland waiting to hear from him, she’s likely in the small house he set up in her name by Snow Hill. It’s over two hours drive from where they are now. Neither he nor Will is up for that in their current condition, so he’ll have to hope she answers.

“You’re welcome, Hannibal. And please, give me a call to let me know how you’re doing once in a while, would you?”

“I will. Thank you again for your help, Lori. Goodbye.” She says her goodbyes in return and with that, they both hang up.

Will is watching him when Hannibal turns his head, and Hannibal raises an eyebrow in question as he dials the number to where he believes Chiyoh to be located. The line rings once then goes to an automated voicemail box. “Hello, Chiyoh. Please call me when you receive this message.” he doesn’t leave the number because he knows she has callerID setup and the cheap mobile phone isn’t a private number.

“That’s it?” Will asks once Hannibal has hung up and set the phone down on the table.

“That’s it,” Hannibal reiterates before reaching for the first of the papers he had purchased. “We made international news, it would seem. It was reported that we drown together after killing our Dragon,” he informs Will as he unfolds the paper and skims the headlines.

“Seriously? Somebody higher up in the FBI had to have made that call. There’s no way that Jack would declare us dead without physical evidence,” Will balks as he closes the mini-fridge and moves to join Hannibal at the table. He ends up grabbing one of the other papers and starting to skim for any articles about the two of them as Hannibal starts reading his own paper from the beginning.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they declared us dead in the hopes we would become careless and slip up in the belief that they are no longer looking for us.” He doesn’t honestly believe that. But it wouldn’t surprise him if somebody other than Jack was pulling the strings in the hopes that would be the case. “Either way it seems a bit foolish on their part.”

By the time Will has checked the last paper, Hannibal has finished reading the first one in its entirety. He quirks a brow at Will upon seeing the papers strewn haphazardly across the table.

“All these papers and there were only two articles about us,” Will notes as he folds one paper over to show a small article about how the search for their bodies is to be called off if they aren’t found the following day. The other article being in the paper Hannibal read, which was more substantial. Talking about the Chesapeake Ripper and former professor from the FBI academy at Quantico who took on the Red Dragon and lost their lives in the process of ending his murder spree.

“We’re not celebrities, Will. We spark and fade into obscurity, just as everyone else does,” Hannibal says as he folds his paper and sets it atop the messy pile Will has made of the others.

“That’s not as comforting as you think,” Will says with a sigh as he slouches in his chair a bit. His gaze drifts over to the fireplace, which needs lighting soon. The sun is starting to set and the cabin is growing colder.

“Operating under the assumption that neither of us survived so soon after our fall would imply that they found some kind of evidence to suggest as much,” Hannibal suggests as he watches Will get up and move to get a fire going.

Will pauses in front of the fireplace, hand hovering over a piece of wood as his brow furrows. He lets his hand drop to his side and closes his eyes in a way that Hannibal hasn’t seen in years but recognizes immediately. He’s recreating the scene in his mind. Using his memories of the night to reconstruct the scene.

“The camera,” Will eventually says. “It fell over sometime after he attacked me and left you alone inside the house. It was on the floor facing outside when we were fighting Dolarhyde. It likely caught most, if not all, of the fight. That combined with the sheer amount of blood we both lost at the scene and the bloody footprints we left leading up to the edge showing we fell from the bluffs would give enough evidence to suggest we didn’t survive.” His eyes are closed the entire time he speaks, head tilting and brow furrowing further as he relives the event in his mind. Blood spraying behind his eyelids as they move in almost a dance with the other man before it ends in his death.

“I knocked the camera over while getting to my feet,” Hannibal clarifies, causing Will to open his eyes and look over at him.

“You wanted it to record us,” Will realizes then, eyes going a bit narrow as he studies Hannibal. “You wanted there to be evidence of what happened with him.”

“How else would we prove you were defending yourself?” Hannibal counters easily. “I confess I had initially thought you would take out your gun and shoot him when given the opportunity. Play the part of the special agent doing his duty to stop a madman.”

Will snorts indignantly at that and turns his attention back to getting a fire started. “After everything we’ve been through, you really thought that was what I would do?”

“Three years is a long time to be apart from someone, Will. People change. You’ve changed, in some ways. I hold no illusions of knowing who you are anymore,” Hannibal says almost softly as he reaches out and grabs his notebook and pencil. He flips the book open to the half-finished meadow, eyes roaming over it a moment before he starts working on the flowers.

Will’s shoulders visibly sag as he lets his head drop forward. His eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. “I’m exactly who I’ve always been, Hannibal. Who you helped me to become. The only difference is that now...Now I’ve stopped fighting my true nature.”

When Hannibal looks over, Will is looking back. Blue eyes locking with amber brown in the faint light of the newly lit fire. “And that nature would be?”

To his credit, Will looks only momentarily annoyed by the question. “The nature that drives me to gut a man with his own knife rather than shoot him like any ordinary ex-cop with a firearm on him would have.”

Hannibal can’t help the genuine smile that breaks out at Will’s choice of words. “Do you regret your actions that night?”

“No.” Will doesn’t hesitate in answering. “I don’t regret anything about that night,” he adds before turning his gaze back to the fire.

Hannibal almost doesn’t believe that. Almost. The look in Will’s eyes as he turns away is clear. He doesn’t regret that night. He might be struggling with leaving the life he had and the family he built. But he doesn’t regret letting himself be who he really is for once. It leaves Hannibal feeling reassured. Content even. Knowing that Will isn’t running away from this. From him.

They’re finally beginning to see one another as Hannibal had once hoped they always would. As equals who share an understanding of one another and a taste for the beauty of blood and the suffering of those who are less than they are.

His mind wanders to Bedelia and Jack. To what kind of beauty he and Will could create from them. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine imagining Will gutting Jack like he had gutted their Dragon. He’ll have to share that thought when the time comes for them to pay the man a visit. But for now, he’s content to simply imagine and enjoy the glow of the fire while Will feeds the flames and hums softly to himself. Now is a time for rest and recovery. Bloodshed and revenge can wait until another day.

Reach Chapter 7

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal x will #will x hannibal #hannibal lecter x will graham #will graham x hannibal #we could be perfect one last night #angst #snark #humor #murder husbands

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dontgotothenetherworld · 4 years

Text

ap psychology

anonymous asked: Can I request readers putting all her studying off till the week before AP exams and she starts studying an unhealthy amount, like sometimes forgetting to eat all day because of it and even made herself sick from stress over it but reader refuses to complain because she did it to herself and Lydia's just there helping her review and making sure she takes time to care for herself ect? Bonus if Reader thinks she did bad and Lydia assuring her she did fine and has an 'i told you don't moment?

anonymous asked: Totally didn't request that bc that's my situation-

for some reason when i tried to queue this w/ the original ask, tumblr wanted to put the cut in the ask and i couldn’t delete it

this is out of date now, but i was uninspired to write for a hella long time sorry. also! i’m going to draw from my experiences w/ ap this year, and the only ap exam i had to take was psych, so that’s also going to be the case for reader :)

also, i feel like my lydia is a bit out of character? idk it’ll probably take a while to get back to the way i used to write her.

1303 words

cw: femreader. food

you cursed under your breath. months ago, months! you told yourself you would start studying for your ap exam. you only had the one exam to study for, so you told yourself that if you just did a little bit everyday, you would be fine.

but here you were, about three days until your ap psychology exam, and you hadn’t studied any of it. you had hardly even watched the videos your teacher had posted as the digital learning content. but to be fair, the stuff he was talking about in them were the last unit or two of psych, and you wouldn’t have to worry about them, because you weren’t going to be tested on them.

you groaned and dragged your feet downstairs, to where you hid your backpack. the friday weeks ago, when your school told everyone that classes would go digital for a few weeks because of the coronavirus, your teacher had come prepared. he gave everyone that showed up to class, which, granted, wasn’t that many but still- a huge packet covering everything that you had studied this year. it was some forty pages long.

okay, it was, like, thirty five because you crossed out the pages about personality and disorders. which was a shame, because those are the units that everyone takes psychology to learn about. no one goes, “oh boy, i can’t wait to learn about how to test if a baby has depth perception!” or “i can’t wait to learn about all the different types of visual illusions!” but whatever.

you flipped to page thirty five, to see how many questions you were in for. just over 250, except that’s counting all the charts as individual questions. yeah, that makes sense. one and a half pages of listing what researchers discovered what is equivalent to answering which cortex of the brain processes visual stimuli.

wait a minute. lydia was also taking psych. studying sucks, but if you could do it with your girlfriend, that’d be so much less painful.

you texted her, “hey lyds, have u finished the psych packet yet?”

”yea i finished it yesterday, why?” she texted back almost immediately.

shit. looks like you’ll have to suffer through this alone. “nvm”

you looked at the time, 1:46. damn, already? it felt like you had only just woken up. you made yourself a coffee, and set up shop on the desk you have never used in your bedroom, with laptop open beside you. you planned on googling everything, rather than going through your notes, mostly because you forgot where you put them, but this would still take ages.

an hour passed, and you felt like you were dying on the inside. if you had to answer one more question about behavioral psych, you were going to scream. behavioral psych is by far the worst part of psychology! watson and skinner be damned! people are people not some computer code! people have feelings! you can’t just ignore them! and the feeling you were feeling right now was not a good one!

you wanted to stop, but you weren’t sure if you stopped now if you’d be able to finish the packet. so you kept on going.

you went another five hours, taking five minute tik tok breaks every hour to keep you sane. you looked at the clock, and realized you hadn’t eaten anything today. you grabbed a box of cheez-its and made your way back upstairs, and went back to work. this time, you ate a cheez-it every time you finished a question, or you filled out a row in a chart.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the morning with about half the packet filled out. considering the exam was in one day, and four-ish hours, you thought that was good.

as you made your morning coffee, you checked the messages lydia had sent you. “are you doing okay? normally we talk a lot but…” “wait, are you working on the study guide?” “y/n! please take breaks! remember! you need food!” “and water!”

you sent back, “if i eat my cheez-its, and i drink my coffee while i study, then i don’t have to take breaks.”

you went back to your desk, and plugged your phone in across the room so you wouldn’t be distracted. but also because you forgot to charge it before you passed out, so it was at three percent, because apparently you had kept it open to tik tok all night, and the video just kept looping. oops.

for a while, the studying seemed easier. you felt like you had less to do, and you didn’t need to worry about getting it done in time, because you had more than enough of it. but because you didn’t need to rush, you became more productive.

you finished the second half of the packet by six that evening. you do admit, you got a bit lazy in the last few pages, but it was done!

shit. studying isn’t just writing stuff down, you have to read it over, right? you don’t really study that much.

but you decided to take an hour or two’s break for… breakfast? dinner? maybe even lunch? whatever, leftover pizza, because you had just only now just realized the intense rumbling in your stomach.

you checked your phone for the first time in hours. you were actually kind of proud of yourself. you usually were on your phone every waking hour, which was probably a problem, but you had shown enormous restraint… by spending every waking hour staring at your laptop. it’s all about choosing your battles.

you quickly dismissed some twitter notifications before tapping on a new message from lydia. “babe, i’m getting really worried about you, please call me when you see this.” you furrowed your brows. worried? about you? why?

you called lydia, and she picked up nearly immediately.

”y/n!” she gasped with relief, “don’t do that to me again!”

you felt stupid for wondering what she was talking about, but you kind of needed to know, “what do you mean?”

”you’ve been offline for hours, and i couldn’t get to you! and then when i heard what you were eating, that got me worried. have you eaten today?”

”three slices of pizza right now.” you swallowed a bite.

”is that your first meal today?”

”unless you count coffee, yeah. i’ll do better tomorrow, i promise. speaking of tomorrow, we’ve got the psych exam, and i need to keep studying. i’ll call after the exam, so like three?”

”y/n.”

”yeah?”

”you do realize this exam is online, right? and at home?”

”uh, yeah.” you swallowed.

”and you have both a laptop and a phone?”

”lydia, what are you saying?” cheating. she was definitely talking about cheating.

”i’m saying, that you don’t really need to know the definitions, because our dear old pal google can be there to help you out with those. and you’re smart, so i assume you know the concepts.”

”you think very highly, of me, my dear.” you took another bite of pizza. “so, what you’re saying is, i wasted two days studying?”

”yes, that is exactly what i’m saying.”

”shit. wait, why were you studying?”

”ugh, because i am nowhere near as good as you at being able to understand things.”

”you know, definitions explain the concept too.”

”what are you saying?” asked lydia.

”i think we’ve both wasted a lot of time studying when we didn’t need to.”

”fuck.” lydia breathed.

”yeah, we’re both idiots. do you wanna watch something on netflix? you haven’t finished parks and rec yet, right?”

”no, i just finished an episode before you called me.”

”which one?”

”season four, episode seven.”

”wait, is the next episode smallest park? we need to watch that, like, now.”

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice braodway #beetlejuice fanfiction #lydia #lydia deetz #lydia x reader #lydia deetz x reader #fic

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shookethbrooketh · 4 years

Text

my pointless gatsby essay

a few days ago i mentioned that i was reading the great gatsby for class and that i wrote a paper on nick’s sexuality. some of you expressed interest in reading it, so now that i’ve finished reading the book and added in some feelings about the ending, i’m posting it so you all can read!

a couple things: i literally wrote this for no reason. we had assignments similar to these for another book we read where i just wrote my opinions about one particularly stupid part of the book, and i wanted to it here so i just...did. if it makes the experience more hysterical for you, you should know that i let my teacher read this, and she read the beginning in the middle of my class (without my knowledge) yesterday and then i do not think she read any more. she agreed with me, though, so it’s a win.

also, i actually honestly think nick is just gay, but the argument i made here is that he was bisexual because a) i was only about halfway through the book when i wrote the majority of this and at that time he seemed to be quite into jordan, and b) i really did not feel like trying to defend the point that he was not at all into women. you’ll be able to tell when you push ‘read more’ that i definitely had enough to say without that. it’s a solid 1250 words. have fun.

The day I finished reading Chapter 3 of The Great Gatsby, I took to Google in search of reassurance that other people were asking the same question I was. It became clear to me that I was not alone when I typed in “Is Nick fr,” and there it was: “Is Nick from Gatsby gay?” The answer is...complicated. Although he begins dating Jordan Baker midway through the book, there is still widespread confusion surrounding Nick’s sexuality. Why, you might ask? He’s got a girlfriend--end of story. Right? Wrong. Although life would be a heck of a lot easier if it did, human sexuality doesn’t work like that, so here we are. The fact of the matter is that Nick is a heavily closeted bisexual, and he is being absolutely used by Gatsby for that.

There are a few non-Gatsby-related clues that Nick is bisexual. For starters, he introduces each new character, male or female, with intricate and often physical detail. He narrates effectively about the physicality of characters regardless of their gender; for example, this description of Tom:

“Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body--he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage--a cruel body.”

This quote, quite frankly, made me violently uncomfortable the first time I read it, so clearly either Nick would not mind being taken down by Tom or we need to have a serious talk with F. Scott Fitzgerald. Not to mention the odd scene where Nick disappears for FOUR HOURS between midnight and 4:00 AM with the sole memory of standing beside a bed with a half-naked man who was earlier described as feminine and was holding a “great portfolio.” Let’s just say that by the end of Chapter 2 some alarm bells were going off in my pea-sized brain.

Now for the real argument: Nick is clearly infatuated with Jay Gatsby. He wrote two entire paragraphs--one in Chapter 3 and one in Chapter 4--simply about the captivating, caring nature of Gatsby’s smile. He even details later in Chapter 4 how he “held out” against Gatsby’s smile, as if it was some force drawing him into something he refused to be a part of. Overall, the entire situation of Nick and Gatsby’s first meeting screams “21st century fanfiction.” Simple, normal Nick gets invited to a fancy party and chooses to go. He starts talking to another simple, normal man who offers to take him out on the water in the morning, and it feels as if everything is falling together when suddenly he realizes his “date” is actually the party’s affluent host. He is left alone with the female friend he came with, and suddenly he becomes almost obsessed with the man he was speaking with, asking his friend about him with a sudden sense of urgency. I’ll be fair--that is an utterly ridiculous analogy. Still, it checks every box, and it seems as if Gatsby is as aware of it as I am.

Gatsby has this odd mystery about him--every move he makes is tactfully chosen, and he seems to have a global knowledge of anything related to Daisy. Because of this, it is clear that the only reason Gatsby is friends with Nick and Jordan is because he believes he can use them to get closer to Daisy. He uses his inexplicable charm to draw Nick in and convince him to help Gatsby get the girl he’s been lusting after for years. In his one valid statement in the entire book, Tom told Nick this at the end of the book: “[Gatsby] threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy’s…” This statement, in and of itself, can be taken in a romantic light, but it also shows how Nick has been a bit manipulated by Gatsby. I will acknowledge that Gatsby displays many extremely relatable qualities that come together to create a characteristic I like to call “disaster gay” (literally the entirety of the panic in Chapter 5). However, Nick is the only main character in the novel who displays heavy bisexual tendencies, and Gatsby seems to be using this to his advantage.

Finally, Chapter 9 is an emotional experience for all of us. Nick is profoundly affected by Gatsby’s death as he is left to grieve almost completely alone. Although he says in Chapter 8 that he never really liked Gatsby, his narration in Chapter 9 tells a different story. Even with Gatsby gone, he feels as if it’s him and Gatsby against the world. He’s found himself suddenly in charge of Gatsby’s funeral, growing more and more distraught with each person that disrespects the dead Gatsby. Most tellingly, he feels as if he had to care for Gatsby, or at least find someone else to be with him. Nick has this inexplicable obligation to Gatsby that screams “unrequited love” forcefully at me until I become emotional.

All this being said, the most interesting part about it all is that I’m completely and wholly wrong. Anyone who says that F. Scott Fitzgerald would have written a bisexual narrator in the 1920s is utterly kidding themselves. Human sexuality wasn’t even perceived as more than “one or the other” until much later in the 20th century. The truth of Nick’s sexuality lies not in the text but in the reader’s perception of said text. The simplest answer to this difference in perception and reality lies in the identity of the reader, but even that doesn’t wholly explain the situation. If the narrator were a woman, chemistry between her and Gatsby would be clear to many more readers. Of course, that shows that, as is, the perception of the relationship is dependent on the reader’s experiences in life; however, it also shows that some of the misconception lies in the general culture of the 21st century.

The vast majority of the examples I provided for Nick’s bisexuality were really written to establish mystery surrounding Gatsby’s character (or simply because Fitzgerald’s writing was excessively descriptive). He clearly had no intention of sending the message that we receive today, but in 21st-century culture, mystery and romance are often intertwined. We’re so used to correlating mystery and romance that sometimes one can come off as the other. Regardless, the best part of fiction is that it’s completely fictional. Nick can be whatever readers make him into (aside from blatant, major misinterpretations), and choosing to spend my time after we finish the book reading academic papers about Nick’s sexuality is both well within my rights and perfectly valid.

Some side notes:

In my research for this, I ended up on Ao3--not to read anything (spoilers, y’know), but to see how many works there were on this and what specifically was going on there, but, despite my attempts, I still managed to spoil Gatsby’s death for myself. Just so we all know the sacrifices I’ve made here. || Update: Now that we’ve finished the book, I’ve taken to reading here, and I think this is what's going to keep me sane during what I’m choosing to call the coronacation.

I’d also like to say that I’m very suspicious of Catherine and her tendency to run off to random places across the world with other women, but we never heard anything from here again, so this is all she gets.

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eugenesmorphine · 4 years

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Home Is Where My Heart Is // Eugene Sledge Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines

Words: 2,842

It was late when I had another nightmare. My body jumping up, sweat covering my body whilst tears filled my eyes. My breath shaky and quick as I placed my arms behind my shivering torso to prop myself up. I looked to my side, the empty spot in the sheets laying on my bed was of course still there. Gene was still in the Pacific fighting the war, while I was still here in my bed at two forty five in the morning from another nightmare. Over and over again I kept seeing my Eugene die over in the Pacific fighting those Japs.

I would barely have any nightmares, maybe one a week, nothing bad either. The nightmares were bearable. I could sleep after those ones. But after Eugene had sent his final letter stating that he couldn't send letter to me anymore for a while, for whatever reason, I began to truly fear everything. I didn't know what was happening over in god knows where, and all I can do is pray for my boyfriend while he is gone and pray that no Marines show up on dress blues with bad news and a letter. All the worries of everyday life and now the fact that I was having more than one worry about my Eugene. The nightmares now almost happened every single night. Everyone worst than the last. I couldn't sleep after them. So that led to many restless and depressive nights. Only having my prayers and my mindfulness to keep me sane.

It was now the real morning time. The sun began to rise, I could feel the soft rays poke through my lace curtains and the warmth hit my (S/C) skin. Time to get up and get ready for work. Another morning without Eugene Sledge.

I tiredly swung my legs over the side of my bed, feeling my toes dig into the soft carpet. I pushed myself up to stand, stretching my arms up above my head. A soft and tired sigh leave my lips as I place my arms back down at my side as I began to walk down my small hallway and walk into my small kitchen. Out of spite, like every morning, I walk to my kitchen and start making myself a hot cup of coffee in the brewer. Yawning as I went to grab my favorite mug. I noticed the small stain of red lipstick stained on the place where I always drank out of it. A small smile curved onto my lips and I brought the mug to the counter and placed it next to the brewer.

As the coffee brewed, I knew it was going to take a while. Damn that old coffee pot. I walked into my bathroom and shut the door behind me. I began to peel of my night clothes, shivering as the cold morning air hit my bare skin. I turned my shower on, steam began to quickly fill the bathroom as I stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain back to its normal spot. I sighed happily as the hot water poured down my skin. I could feel my muscles relaxing. I ran my hands through my now wet hair and began to wash it. This was my morning routine before heading to work. Wash up, rap my hair in curlers, get dressed, sit down and drink my coffee as I read a bit of a book, once done with coffee I do my makeup, then I walk to the diner I work at and work my days work. Then I come home and eat a small dinner, showering once more and getting into my bed clothes and actually going to bed. Pretty simple.

Once I finished my shower, I wrapped a towel around my body. I wiped the mirror of it's fog using a cloth, looking back at my reflection. I just stood there for a moment. A quick memory flashing in front of my eyes. It was Eugene. I stood there, staring in the mirror. I watched as he stood behind me, smiling at me through the mirror. I felt tears prick back into my eyes as I smiled back. I felt his hands snake around my waist to hug me from behind. I just stood there, in shock. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest as he grip around my waist tightened. A few tears fell. I was snapping to my senses. "Genie!" I yelled, turning around to give him the biggest hug and kiss. But when I went to wrap my arms around boyfriend, there was nobody there. I gulped as I realized that it was all in my head. More tears fell. Not out of happiness this time. But out of fear thinking that I was now going crazy. I was seeing things for gods sake! I just took a deep breath, wiped my tears, and tried to ignore the thing that had just happened. Pushing it into the back of my head.

I brushed out my hair rather quickly, soon putting my curlers in just as quick. I then walked to my room, shivering once more as the cold air hit me. I walked into my room, shutting the door behind me. Then walking to my closet to grab a fresh and clean uniform out of my closet. I laid the dress down flat on my bed. Going back to my closet seconds later to retrieve my white pumps. I dropped my towel, slipping on my undergarments and began to get dressed. The thought of Eugene never leaving my mind for some reason. Oh how I missed him. It had been many months since I have last seen him. I lost track in all honestly. Our place in Mobile, Alabama was so empty and boring now the my Eugene wasn't going on anywhere with me. I sighed heavily as I slipped on my pumps and walked back out in the kitchen. My coffee was indeed done and smelt amazing.

I grabbed my mug and poured some of the fresh hot coffee into it. The steam from the hot liquid floated from the surface for a while. I put a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of cream within the drink and stirred it. I took a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. It tasted perfect. Like every morning. I checked the time. Still right on time. Not running a tad bit late, and it seems I am even a little early today. I smiled down at my clock, pleased with myself. I sat down in my dining chair, placing my mug to the right of me as I picked up the book I had been reading. Opening it's pages and went to the page with my book mark. I removed it and began reading the page. I focused on the words, feeling relaxation with every page turned. I hummed softly to myself as I read and sipped my coffee. Finishing the coffee quickly, I got through what I believe nine or ten pages in my book. I smiled as I placed my book mark back in between the pages. The book was almost finished.

I placed the book back down smiling. That was until I acknowledged the empty seat that sat in front of me. This was another thing that happened every morning. And with every morning, the feeling of loneliness and sorrow grew within my chest. I shook my head softly, pushing myself up and grabbed my empty mug. Sadly placing it in the sink and walked back to go into my room and sat at my vanity.

I pulled my chair out, sitting down and staring into my mirror. I pulled out my makeup. Lipstick, blush, mascara, the full nine yards. I had to look pretty in order to get good tips. All waitresses knew that. I began doing my makeup, keeping an eye on the time in the process. Still right on time. I pulled my curlers out of my hair as I finished up with my makeup. My bouncy curls right on point. Smiling in the mirror, feeling good about myself. I just wished Mr. Sledge was here to see me look this nice today. If only. I sprayed a small bit of hairspray in the curls, making it so I knew they would stay in for the day.

I sat and stared at a picture I had framed in my vanity. The picture of Eugene and I on our first date. His best friend Sydney Phillips had insisted to take it. I was too busy laughing in the picture. My hand slightly covering my laughing mouth, my eyes shut and closed tightly and my head was tilted back. Eugene had an arm around my waist, he was laughing too. Though, not as hard as me. His mouth was open, showing he was laughing, But his eyes were open and staring at me, with only what everyone could say was love in his eyes. His other hand was holding mine, making sure I didn't fall over from laughing. It was quite an amazing picture. It was my favorite one of the two of us. I smiled at the frame in my hand as I grazed my index finger over Gene's face. This was taken a couple days before Sydney had left for the Marines. It felt like a lifetimes ago, though I could remember that day so well. I feel as though it was the best day of my life.

Before I knew it, I was leaving my home and shutting the door, and starting to walk to the diner I work at. It wasn't far, that's why I chose to walk. I walked through the doors, all my regular customers there had a smile on their faces and a happy greeting for me as I tied my apron around my waist, took my notepad and pen out and began taking orders. That is how my day went. That is basically how everyday at my work goes. Take orders, talk to customers, give them their food and drinks, they pay and give me a tip. This repeats for usually eight to nine hours. Then I help clean the diner and then clock out. Everything about today was the same. Today was a normal day.

I finished work. And like I said before, it was completely normal. Nothing had changed. I had gotten three dollars in tips and I was walking home. It was a normal walk home. The air was cold, the sounds were normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It was quite late at night when I reached my front door step. I grabbed my key out and went to place it into the key hole. Though, quickly noticing it was unlocked. Confusion and a tinge of fear shot through my body. I knew damn well that I closed and locked that door. I gulped slightly, not letting my fear getting the best of me. I placed my keys between each knuckle, making a somewhat of a claw. I pushed my door open, walking slowly into my home and slowly and quietly closing the door behind me. I took a deep breath and noticed the kitchen light was on. that is odd. I walked slowly to the kitchen, I could hear a familiar hum. Eugene? No way, it couldn't be. Sydney would've told me if my Eugene was coming home or not! I'm going crazy or I'm just hearing things. Is all I thought as I walked into the kitchen.

As I turned the corner slowly, I noticed a dark green uniform. A slim figure was in the uniform, his back turned away from me. Oh my god. It couldn't be. I heard humming coming from the man. He must've not heard me enter or walk in. I stood there, in shock, clutching my keys and my bag in the other hand. I gulped. My knees felt weak and my breath got shaky once again. Tears of joy filled my eyes. Oh god, it had to be him! Unless I was just hallucinating again. Though, I could smell his sweet cologne and really hear him. I just continued to stare silently in disbelief. My mouth slightly open.

In just moments the man turned around. The toothy smile and soft face gave it away. My Eugene Sledge was standing there in front of me. I dropped my bag and keys onto the ground, hearing the thud it caused. My arms dropped to my side in exhaustion. Like an entire building was no lifted off my shoulders. Please let this be real God. My mental prayers began to repeat that sentence over and over again.

"Gene? That you?" I asked softly, approaching the man in uniform. I reached to right in front of his feet, staring at his face. Tracing over every feature of him. Not touching him yet, trying to avoid finding out if he had just yet been another hallucination caused by my own grief of his absence. "Are you real?" I asked in a whisper. It was so quiet you could barely hear me say it. I felt a hard lump in my throat forming as I choked back tears. I heard a small chuckled leave his lips. Once again that damn smile forming on his lips. That goddamn smile. I know it isn't ladylike for me to swear but oh how I couldn't help it. I felt his now rough and calloused hand cup my cheek. I then brought my hand to touch the fabric on his jacket and blouse. Comfort and happiness ran through my body as I felt the fabric on and between my fingers. Tears slipped down my face, some landing on Eugene's hand. His eyes softened as my gaze went from his chest and back to his eyes. I could see everything within his eyes. The love, sadness, fear, horror that filled his eyes. But, happiness shown through as his smile grew wider and tears filled his eyes. I smiled as a small laugh left my lips. He was real. This is real.

"Of course I'm real, why wouldn't I be? Oh god Y/N, I missed you," it was his turn to let his emotions out. I saw a few tears slip from his eyes as his arms wrapped tightly around my torso and his head dug into my neck, his Garrison cap falling off. I quickly wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, pulling myself even closer. I took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of his cologne. I sigh of relief escaped my lips and we pulled away from the hug. The two of us stared at each other for a few moments. He then just grabbed the sides of my face and smashed his lips on mine. I melted into the feelings of his lips on mine. It had been so long since the last time we had kissed and or felt each other and held each other. I needed this more than anything.

Pulling away once more, out of breath. We laughed slightly and smiled at each other. It was like when we were fifteen again. Now we are both nineteen, going on twenty, and we still are going strong. God I missed this man. A small smirk formed on my face as I ran towards him, jumped and wrapped my legs around his waist as my arms went around his shoulders. I watched his face of shock as his hands went under my thighs to support me. I laughed, throwing my head back. I didn't care if I woke up any of my neighbors in this moment. My Marine was back and I couldn't be happier. I stopped laughing and looked down at my blushing Boyfriend.

"I missed you Eugene." I said softly, running a hand through his hair.

"I know Darling, I'm sorry I stopped writing and didn't tell you I was coming home. I wanted to surprise you," He replied. I laughed softly, forgetting the fact that he nearly gave me a heart attack.

"Promise me you won't ever leave me again Genie," I said softly, with a hint of sadness laced in my words. I felt Eugene's lips hit mine softly once more. I smiled against his lips. God I missed this.

"Trust me Y/N, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here in Mobile, Alabama. I'm not letting you out of my sights," His voice was soft and happy. I smiled back down at him and kissed his forehead.

"I have no problem with that," I laughed softly.

That night, I had no nightmares. I didn't wake up in a cold sweat, and I was ready for anything with my boyfriend. Now everything was back to normal and perfect. I love my Eugene, and he loves me.

#the pacific imagine #the pacific #HBO Series #hbo war #hbo #eugene sledge #imagines #imagine #Merriel Shelton #Snafu Shelton

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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932

What's your favourite sport? Do you prefer to watch it or play it?: I love pro wrestling, if you count that as a sport. I definitely prefer to just stay in front of a TV – I have never been in a ring, nor am I physically fit to even give it a shot without getting harshly injured. Conversely, I love table tennis but I’d rather play it than watch a game.

Who was the last person to send you a friend request on Facebook?: It was a stranger who, upon checking, seems to be some sort of spam account promoting a pyramid scheme. Happy to nope the fuck out of there.

Have you ever been to that person's house?: Definitely not. I don’t add people I didn’t know on any level, anyway.

How recently did you wash your hands?: This morning when I cleaned up after Cooper.

How many girls do you know named Emma?: Not a common name here, so I don’t know any Emmas.

[trigger warning under this I guess. Lots of angst going on at the moment.]

Are you upset, for any reason at all?: Yeah. I’ve been feeling very upset and under stress lately...to give you an idea, I find it a personal achievement to have gotten up and taken this survey. I’m at least self-aware that this is a temporary slump, but while it’s here hanging around, it really sucks to be in it.

How did you feel when you woke up today?: Shitty. The only reason I got up at all was to feed my dogs but otherwise I’ve been glued to either the couch or my bed.

When you're stressed, what helps you to relax or calm down?: Lately, it’s episodes of Good Mythical Morning. Rhett, Link, and their crew will never have any idea just how much they’ve helped this 22 year old, now-wondering-what-her-purpose-is-in-life fresh college graduate keep sane, but I’m glad they have hours upon hours of content and podcasts lying around to keep me company while no one else can.

What were you doing before you started this survey?: I finished another survey that I abandoned yesterday, and was watching GMM to fill up the silence in my room.

Is there something else you should be doing, that's more important?: I’ve been job-hunting 24/7 but lately I’ve been giving myself a break on weekends since no one will be processing applications or booking interviews on a Saturday anyway.

When was the last time you neglected to do something that you'd planned?: Around noon today.

Is there someone that can always make you smile no matter how bad you feel?: Apparently not. I’ve been a wreck all month so far and nothing has worked. Before September, I certainly thought animals or certain humans worked as cures for me.

Do you have any friends that you feel don't fully appreciate you?: I don’t feel that way about them. I think my friends care for me a whole lot, which I appreciate. I’ve had friends come to my DMs quite a few times in the last few days with messages of support since I’ve been a little vocal about how sad I’ve been feeling these days, so I for sure don’t feel invisible. Making me feel present is the best gift anyone could give me.

When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful?: Last week when Gab came over.

Who was the last person that apologised to you?: Myself.

What were they apologising for?: Haven’t been looking out for myself recently.

Do you think they meant it?: I guess not, because I still haven’t stopped being destructive towards myself.

Would you be embarrassed if your parents looked at your Facebook?: I have them as my friends so they see everything. But I’m 22, so while they can complain about some of my posts (and it’s usually the political ones lol), they can’t tell me to take anything down anymore the same way they were able to do so when I was younger.

Describe the personality of the person you have feelings for.: She’s very warm, understanding, generous, and immeasurably protective of the people she loves.

What does your pencil case look like? What's in it?: I have a plush dog pencilcase that I use for my pens and pencils (given by my sister) and a pink pencilcase with a floral design that holds my highlighters (given by Jane).

In your Facebook friends list, who is the first person listed under 'D'?: Some girl named Abby whose surname begins with D. She was someone from my high school and we mutually know each other, but we’re not friends and we’ve never even talked.

How did you meet him/her?: I’ve never talked to her but I’ve known of her since grade school I guess? since she’s my sister’s batchmate.

Did the last person you kissed have facial hair?: No.

You're locked in a room with your ex. Any problems?: It would just be my girlfriend too so there wouldn’t be any problems, except that I’d probably break down crying upon seeing her again because I’ve barely pulled myself together over the last week and have had to go through it alone.

Be honest. What are you most afraid of?: These days I’m definitely doubting my capabilities and achievements and all the shit I’ve put on my resumé and portfolio, and now I’m scared if any company will even give me a chance. I’m honestly holding a little bit of resentment for every employed person right now because I have seen absolutely no one talk about how brutal this whole process/waiting game is, lol. This is so SHITTY, is it just difficult for me or what???? I’m so baffled.

In the last 24 hours, have you seen or spoken to anyone you dislike?: I’ve dealt with myself, but that’s it.

What colour are the eyes of the last person that told you they loved you?: Dark brown.

What is a word or phrase that you say often?: I like saying “I guess” because it makes me sound unsure about most things and thus makes me not 100% accountable if things go wrong hah. I do have another answer that’s more in line with the angst and depression I’ve been going through recently, and it’s that I’ve repeating BoJack Horseman’s ‘piece of shit’ monologue to himself, but this time saying it to myself.

Name 3 songs that remind you of someone special.: Sparks by Coldplay; anything by Mitski; and anything by St. Vincent.

How much chocolate do you have in your house atm, if any?: We have...a lot. We still have the chocolate cake from Nina’s birthday and we recently received an entire pack of various fun-size chocolate bars like Twix, Three Musketeers, etc. from my aunt. We also have chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that I normally would finish up in a day, but I’ve been saving it for every future job rejection I receive.

Who is the most intelligent person you know?: Chesca.

Do you have younger siblings? If you do, are you protective of them?: Yes. I’m protective of my sister but I don’t show it lol. We are not showy in this family.

Who was the last person you insulted?: Idk probably a politician on social media.

What are the other members of your household doing at this moment?: I have not gone out of my room all day...I did not miss this sensation. It’s been a while since I’ve locked myself up for this long.

Do you have any neighbours that you don't get along with?: There’s a house behind ours that loudly plays 80s and 90s power ballads and love songs and it gets insanely irritating and makes the neighborhood feel cheap, but I keep my feelings to myself and I’ve never actually confronted them about it and asked them to stop or decrease their speaker’s volume.

How recently did you speak to the last person you kissed?: Like 30 minutes ago. I’m not very talkative these days and it was actually just the second time today that I initiated a bried conversation. I feel bad for her, and I can’t wait to get better so I can start treating her right again.

Who was the last person you told to get lost, or something similar?: I don’t usually tell this to people.

Give me a random line from the last song you listened to.: “We know better so we’d both better go.”

Have you ever had an argument with the last person you Facebook messaged?: Lots. She’s my girlfriend lol.

Do you have any plans for tonight?: I don’t know. If I feel any better, I’d practice and review for my upcoming interview this Tuesday, but if I’m not okay by then...I don’t know. I’ve stopped planning my days out recently and just go where my legs take me.

Where were you at 9 o'clock last night?: I was at the dining table trying to take a survey, but I quickly lost interest in it.

In the past week, have you slept past midday?: Kind of. Like I mentioned, Gabie’s on the night shift so I’ve been keeping her company, which means I occasionally take naps in the afternoon.

Is there anything happening tomorrow, that you're looking forward to?: No. I’m so scared of tomorrows now.

Is there anyone you used to be friends with, that you now dislike?: I dislike Athenna only because of her attitude and the way she treated Angela during the last few days of their friendship. I don’t have any personal beef with her, at least I don’t think I have. She likes stirring up shit though and I won’t be surprised if she was able to make up a story about me to get our other friends to dislike me.

What is your least favourite chocolate bar?: Eh, I’m pretty picky about chocolate bars so I have more brands that I dislike than the ones I do enjoy. I only like Reese’s, Butterfinger, Twix, and Whittaker’s.

Do any of your friends or relatives have the same birthday as you?: Just this girl I went to grade school with named Mitch. Otherwise, April 21 babies are a rare breed apparently.

Name the last song that made you cry.: O by Coldplay.

Who do you miss at this moment?: The me from like two weeks ago lol. How far I’ve fallen.

Where is that person?: Stuck in August, I guess.

Have you ever dyed your hair an unnatural colour?: No.

Have you had any deep conversations today?: No.

Is your television on atm?: It’s not, but I have my phone playing GMM videos on YouTube to keep me company.

If it is, what are you watching?: It’s one of their product test videos.

Are you wearing anything blue?: My shirt is blue, actually.

Who were the last 5 people to make you smile?: Rhett and Link, and that’s pretty much it.

Do you use Twitter?: Sure.

Tell me about the last YouTube video you watched. They’re pitting brand name cleaning products and natural cleaning products against each other and seeing which one is more effective. I love these videos of theirs, hahaha.

Is there anything else you'd like to say?: No, I feel like I’ve grilled myself enough in this survey.

#survey #surveys

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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931.

5k Survey XLV

2301. Who is the hottest celebrity you can think of? >> --- 2302. Have you ever been to the following diaries(on opendiary.com)? If yes, what do you think..if no, then based on the name, does it sound interesting to you? Hicks: Shukhevych: Cinderella: Oliver: A tinfoil valentine: Burning River: joebeginswithajay: 2303. Do you ever get so nervous that you can’t even think? >> It’s happened. 2304. Do you sing when there is no music? >> Occasionally, if there’s a song stuck in my head or something. 2305. Would you rather cast a spell or say a prayer? >> I don’t see why I can’t do either, or both. The efficacy is likely to be the same, anyway.

2306. Why does the US dollar bill have a pyramid on it? >> I don’t know, nor am I Google. 2307. Who was the best political leader in history and why? >> I don’t have an opinion on this. 2308. What was the first sex toy you ever used? >> I’m not sure. It would have been a long time ago. 2309. If you hated a book, would you burn it? >> I only buy books I know I enjoy and am likely to read multiple times, and everything else I read is borrowed and/or an ebook, so. 2310. What are your feelings about pornography? >> I don’t have any feelings about it. 2311. What are your feelings about people who are against pornogrophy? >> I don’t care if people are against pornography. 2312. If you could dance with anyone in the world right now, who would it be and what song would you dance to? >> --- 2313. What is your favorite flavor of schnapps? >> Peppermint, probably. 2314. Finish this sentence your own way. There are two types of people in the world… >> --- 2315. What have you saved since elementary school? >> Nothing. 2316. Have you ever won an award? >> In school, probably. 2317. Are you more: good or evil? wise or foolish? safe or dangerous? satisfied or envious? honest or deceitful? faithful or perfidious? sane or mad? strong or weak? enigmatic or plain? aggressive or peaceful? brave or timid? humane or cruel? critical or appreciative? temperamental or calm? sad or happy? normal or unusual? 2318. How do you feel about Terri Schiavo? >> Is that the woman that was in a coma and there was some whole debate about whether to pull her plug or something... I don’t remember having an opinion about that when it was happening. 2319. Do you feel more connected to the sun or the moon? >> Sun. 2320. Do flaws make people interesting to you? >> Not necessarily. 2321. Who is your favorite historical figure? >> --- 2322. White bread or wheat bread? >> Sourdough. 2323. Would you rather never have sex again or have sex once with a walrus? >> --- 2324. Would you rather sky dive or deep sea dive? >> Skydive (also by default, since I can’t swim). 2325. What is the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done? >> I’m not going to rank my kinky activities. 2326. What is your favorite pick-up line? >> --- 2327. Do you usually do things fast or right? >> Sometimes I do things fast to get them over with before my brain catches fire and makes it impossible for me to do it at all. 2328. What will the most common Halloween costume be this year? >> I doubt there will be many costumes at all this year. Unless people are planning on dressing up like CDC workers. 2329. What was it last year? >> *shrug* 2330. Is love a choice or something that can’t be helped? >> It’s a choice. It’s a system of behaviours that one chooses to do. I don’t know how to quantify it any other way, that “feelings” shit doesn’t fly for me. 2331. What is your preferred method of birth control? >> I take the pill. 2332. Is there someone you see everyday (or sometimes) that you would like to hug and talk to but you just don’t know them well enough? >> No. 2333. Are you or have you ever been in a band? >> No. 2334. Here are 4 statements about me. Only one of them is true. Which one is it? a. I lost my mind doing drugs. b. I’ve been arrested before. c. I have 9 cats. d. I have a children’s book published. 2335. What do you think of the smashing pumpkins? >> I like them. 2336. Would you wear a thong bathing suit in public? >> I sure the fuck would not. 2337. Hello I love you won’t you tell me your name? >> --- 2338. If you had to be surgically attached at the hip for two years to either Britney Spears, George W. Bush or an ugly creepy troublesome but nice troll, who would you pick and why? >> I stopped reading this question after the first few words. 2339. Let’s assume that there is a “meaning of life,” a reason for humans to be here on this planet. Would you give up both of your legs and one of your arms if it would mean everyone else would learn the meaning of life? >> No. 2340. If you could meet God and talk to him for 5 hours, -or- find out whether or not there is intelligent life on other planets and make contact with them, which would you pick and why? (Note: If you meet God, you will never find out if there is intelligent life on other planets, so you can’t ask God if aliens exist. Also, you would get no proof that you had talked to him or her. And finally, if God doesn’t exist then you don’t get to meet him or her!). >> Yawn. 2341. Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, or the Breakfast Club? >> I’ve never seen any of these. 2342. Before you read this question, pick a person from your life, any person. (You have to be thinking about someone before you continue!). Would you rather have the ability to watch that person for one hour per day, or would you rather have that person watch you for one hour per day? Who is it and why? (you pick the hour - they don’t know that they are being watched - it’s like there are invisible TV cameras following them around)? >> Fuck this shit. 2343. Would you rather be guaranteed to have your dream job or never be heartbroken? >> --- 2344. Have you thought about death today? >> Yup. 2345. What is your favorite breakfast? >> I eat a veggie burger for breakfast almost every day, so I guess that, by default. 2346. What is your favorite classic movie? >> I don’t have one. I like a lot of movies that were made over 50 years ago (which I’m using as a definition for “classic” just to keep things simple). 2347. Gold or silver eyeshadow? >> Gold. 2348. Are you the life of the party? >> No. 2349. Do you wish you were? >> Nope. 2350. Sdrawkcab daer uoy nac? >> Yeah.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years

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Making Chocolates

I’ve been on these workshops, I know what I’m writing about, I also know it’s late, I have 5 pages to type up and the fic isn’t even finished yet. should I blame Logan, Remy, Emile or Roman? hmm...

also I’m English and couldn’t be bothered to think or try to puzzle the american school system for the start bit of writing soooo Logan at least is definitely English in this,

/\/\/\/\/\

All those years ago Logan had only studied Food Technology because his parents insisted that doing 4 A-levels on purely academic subjects would negatively impact his mental health. He’d compromised by swapping one of his preferred science courses for the supposedly ‘non-academic’ course which sounded most likely to include a good deal of science.

Learning about chocolate and the methods of making them in his second year had fascinated him and began the path his life followed still. It gave Logan the passion to open this small chocolate shop where he could make, design and teach all about chocolates and their fillings.

Today was one of his favourite parts of running the Chocolatiers as he had a group of 3 booked for a chocolate training course, specifically the Valentines Gift Boxes. Logan would be teaching them all about the science of chocolate, how to make individual chocolates, how the fillings are made as well as the techniques used to make models of characters or boxes.

“Roman, you keep insisting you need the perfect gift, but do you actually have a valentine to give something to?” A voice interrupted his preparations and had Logan heading to the front of the shop from his classroom/ work room.

Before he could welcome the trio, a man, presumably Roman, was dramatically gesturing. “Of course I do. My valentine is furthering my solo quest to love Myself!”

“Do you wish to purchase chocolates then?” Logan offered, torn between focusing as a salesman or asking if they were the group booked for his workshop. A glance at the time made it likely as there were only 10 minutes before it was due to begin.

The smallest of the trip shook their head, stepping forwards. “We’re here for one of your workshops. I booked it under the name Picani.”

“Ah yes, please follow me. Might I know everyone’s names and pronouns please? I am Logan, he/him.” Logan nodded, leading them back.

“I am Prince Roman, he/him pronouns as well, Dear shopkeep.” The man from before declared and Logan could already predict a headache if his was how he’d act all day.

The person in sunglasses,leather jacket and a pencil skirt scoffed. “You ain’t no royalty, Babes. I’m Remy and she/her pronouns for now, Sweets.” She was carrying a take away coffee and definitely seemed likely to get annoyed if chocolate got onto her outfit, but Logan had taught all sorts before.

“And I’m Emile, they/them pronouns. Do you how do?” Finally someone in the group seemed sane, although Logan did blink at the unusual greeting.

Shaking it off he gestured to the table central in the room. “I’m fine. Please take a seat and I’ll begin with some of the science and history behind chocolate making, including tasting a few of the chocolates I melt to make mine.”

The introduction of the session went smoothly from there and Logan even got them past filling the chocolate moulds and draining them so there could be fillings added later before any adjustments were made.

As he was explaining how they’d make the box he was interrupted. “Can I make a heart shaped box? Oh, or maybe a Steven Universe Gem?” Emile bounced a little in excitement for the ideas and Logan was torn between figuring out the best way to achieve the suggestions or sighing at the unscheduled diversion of the course.

Knowing curves would be to complicated to figure out if they wanted the box to remain sturdy. Logan shook his head. “We need to do fairly simple objects with flat sides. I normally suggest a rectangle but if these gems have straight sides then I should be able to modify the method for you.”

The image he was shown was easy enough to sort out. Discerning how a square needed 3 normally sized edged and then 5 smaller ones that Roman seemed set on making was not so simple. “Are you changing the shape of your box too, Roman?”

“A prince deserves a crown, do I not?” At least Roman had been quiet about changing the box but Logan did need to be aware of what was done. He could only ensure each person went home with something they were proud of if he knew what they were actually aiming to achieve.

“Of course.” Logan nodded before checking on the last person on the course as she refilled the kettle for her 3rd coffee of the day. “Remy, have you decided on the shape of your box?”

Her sunglasses had been brought down again, after being pushed back while working with the chocolate. “Plain old square for me, Babes. We get coffee fillings for our chocolates right?”

“Once the sides of your boxes are on the setting rack, I’ll cover that, but yes that is one of the options I’ve prepared.” Logan nodded, checking the pieces left out in her work space before moving them to the mentioned area.

Soon Logan was indeed explaining the ways each filling was made, and bringing out the 5 he had already prepared. “I would suggest selecting the flavours you like and doing a row of each. If you decorated the moulds differently at the start then you can use that you tell you which chocolate has each flavour.”

“So can I do two fillings in one chocolate?” Roman was the first to ask as Remy immediately claimed the coffee filling. “Like put strawberry and mint flavours together?”

Holding back a sigh Logan actually thought the question over.“As long as there is space for the chocolate to make a base I suppose you could. However I must warn you that unusual flavour combinations are not likely to be received well when gifting chocolates.”

“The chocolates for me, so I can happily satisfy my curiosity.” Roman beamed, being more precise in the amounts of filling than Logan had so far believed he would be.

Emile was quite peacefully filling each row of their tray with the different flavours, including helping themself to the coffee flavoured bowl. “Don’t pout, Remy. Logan made the filling for everyone to use, not just you.” They laughed at the glare that was directed to them, just patting her head.

By the end of the day Logan felt exhausted after working with such strong characters. He’d had to have Remy and Emile working together to make Emile’s box stay standing after they glued the sides together with more chocolate, white to contrast the dark chocolate that made the body. Roman’s crown had also taken two people to ensure it would stick and balance, but Logan had helped there.

He wanted to note down the different shapes the trio had suggested for gift boxes, but also just smiled and waved as they left, all thrilled with their finished products.

#funbruary #logan sanders #roman sanders #remy sanders #Emile Picani #chocolate #chocolatier au #chocolatier logan #chocolate shop

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