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imjusttpeachy · 3 years

Text

she's a rae of sunshine (c.h.)

okay so this was a request but i completely read it wrong so i’m gonna write it again but i finished this one anyway so here take it

so sorry to the anon who requested it bc u were so fuckin sweet i’ll have it up asap i promise

playlist

ralph castelli - morning sex

crumb - bones

jorja smith - teenage fantasy

summary: balancing college life and wanting to support your best friends online endeavors was difficult, but reader regrets trying a little harder when she finally meets one of her newer stream-mates

word count: 2, 828

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, lowkey OOC Corpse, that needs its own warning i’m sorry,

•••

“Look you knew I had to stream before I said you could come over ya fuckin idiot.”

“Yea I knowwwww, I just wanted to spend more time with my super-hot best friend forever.”

Being the best friend of an online personality had its perks— the amazing trips you got to hitch a ride on, the adoring fans that seemed to latch on to you as well, the sponsorships that would always send you something along with the original PR package, and especially the way she was able to choose their own work hours.

Well... mostly.

As much as you adored spending time together during the day, whether it be shopping or going out for brunch, those late nights that always seemed to hold the most memories you held so dear were few and far between. Of course, you couldn’t blame her; responsibilities were responsibilities, and fuck if you’d let your selfish wants override the way she chooses to get her work done. You really couldn’t be one to judge either-- having to call off dates because you’d underestimated the time you needed to complete a school paper, or when a last-minute lab was called in and you’d have to leave her sitting alone in those cafes with your half-finished mocha and a promise to Venmo her the money to cover it later. What left you feeling the most guilty, though, was the fact that you weren’t able to watch her content as much as you’d like to. Sure, you’d catch a few minutes of a stream here and there but any time you spent apart was usually spent with your head buried in a book, mind bleary with countless espresso shots trying to keep your tired eyes focused on the seemingly unending work in front of you.

But, a distraction every now and then couldn’t hurt. Right?

Having had enough of your current assignment, any coherent thought was long gone, you’d decided to pay your favourite person a little visit. You knew she’d probably be busy as she hadn’t replied to your previous text for a few hours, but knowing her presence alone and any passing comments would lift the heaviness that had found its home in your head and chest, you shot her a message to let her know that her office couch would be occupied by you for the next few hours. Normally, you’d just show up so you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it; so when that fateful message popped up on your phone giving you the go-ahead you completely ignored the warning of her work schedule and drove right over.

So now here you were, sprawled haphazardly on her couch clad in sweats and a sports bra scrolling through your phone as you watched her finish her final touches so she could start her stream.

“You’re gonna be in the background of my face cam if you wanna sit there y’know.” Groaning in response to her warning not wanting to move from the comfy spot you just found, you looked over at her with the best puppy eyes you could muster. She chuckled softly, raising her hands in surrender as she turned back to her setup. “Hey I really don’t care, just warning ya bug. The thirst comments and screenshots are outta my hands.”

Scoffing under your breath at her comment, you turned your head back to your phone as a Twitter notification popped up at the top of your screen.

Corpse Husband: streaming among us in a few mins, join in on youtube

Heartbeat picking up slightly, you scrambled for the purse you’d thrown at the base of the couch for your headphones. Ever since you’d found this handsome-voiced stranger’s channel on your late night horror binges, you had fallen completely in love. While you weren’t typically the type to watch video game commentary outside of Rae, his voice got you completely hooked and you couldn’t get enough of it. Yeah, maybe you were a bit of a simp, but that sweet and genuine personality that hid behind that gravelly tone had you melting completely into his clutches. You tried to convince yourself to get over it, you didn’t even know what he looked like. But, y’know, a little crush wouldn’t hurt anybody right?

“Going live in T-minus 30 seconds babe.” Jumping slightly as Rae’s voice knocked you out of dreamland, you mumbled out a small “got it” as you once again got focused on getting your headphones connected to your phone. You’d never been able to watch one of his lives before, his horror commentary videos usually playing as background noise as you did schoolwork or while you were falling asleep. Practically shaking with excitement, you opened your YouTube app seeing the live at the very top and tapping on it immediately only to be met with that sweet laugh ringing through your headphones like music to your ears. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the throw pillow you had previously tossed to the floor and hugging it to your chest while your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, completely forgetting what was happening around you as you zeroed in on the gravelly tone you’d fallen oh-so in love with.

“Hey (Y/N) wave hi.” You startled slightly as the faint voice of your friend sounded from across the room. Glancing up from your phone, you pulled an earbud from your ear and furrowed your brows at her before slowly processing what she said, lifting a hand in greeting to her watchers. She laughed at your confusing antics, turning slightly in her chair to look over at you. “What the hell are you so smiley about?”

“…Nothing..” You grinned widely as her laugh once again resounded around the room, shaking her head at you before turning back to her screen with a scoff, muttering something under her breath so only her watchers could hear. Smile still plastered across your lips, you settled back down into the comfiness of the couch and popped your earbud back in, zeroing in again on the screen in front of you. Watching as Corpse moved his character around the lobby as he waited for his friends to join, a small giggle escaped from under your breath; trying your best to be mindful of Rae’s stream but not being able to hold back the flustered feeling welling up in your chest, mind giddy with the thought of finally being able to see one of his famous live streams, well, live. It had only been a few seconds later when you heard Rae’s voice once again, only this time, not as muffled as before.

“What’s up motherfuckers.” Brows furrowing in confusion, you lifted your hand to your earbud and pulled it from your ear once again, hearing her voice from across the room but from your other earbud as well. No, there was no fucking way. All your questions were answered, though, as you glanced back down at your phone screen seeing a red character move around the game lobby along with Corpse’s, the gamer tag ‘Valkyrae’ floating just above it. Blinking hard at your screen trying to convince yourself that your eyes were lying to you, you slowly pulled your hand to cover your mouth in shock. How… How could you possibly not know they knew each other? With the way they spoke to each other in sarcastic comments, poking fun at the other it sounded like they were close too. Body finally catching up with your thoughts, you scrambled at your phone, shaky hands moving as quickly as they could to pull up your texts with Rae. Your fingers tapped furiously at the screen, anxious to get back to the live stream to listen in more but also needing to know what the fuck was going on.

TO my rae of sunshine: care to explain what the fuck is going on??! how the fuck do you know corpse husband?????!??!

“Oops sorry guys, guess I forgot to turn off my phone ringer-“ Staring up at the back of her head helplessly, you watched as she picked up her phone seeming to read out the text before bursting into a peal of laughter. Tossing a look at you over her shoulder, you looked back down at your phone bashfully, seeing the three loading dots in your message thread indicating that she was messaging you back.

my rae of sunshine: lol what about it? you gotta crush on him or something?

TO my rae of sunshine: …no

Hitting send you rushed back to the stream, anxious to see what Corpse was saying in response to Rae’s absence, not thinking anything about your brief conversation and thinking you would discuss it after she had logged off for the night. Though, as you heard her phone chime again from across the room followed by another bark of laughter, you knew you weren’t getting off that easy.

“What are you laughing about?” Corpse’s honeyed voice sounded from your earbud, hearing Rae’s giggles from what you presumed to be their discord voice chat. Glancing anxiously between his stream and the reflection of Rae’s face cam in one of her monitors, your heart began to sink as you watched that familiar mischievous grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Oh just my friend (Y/n) sent me a funny meme”

“Wait, is she the one in some of your Instagram posts?” You swear your heart stopped beating at that moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as you tried helplessly to process the conversation happening right in front of you. He knew who you were? You thought you’d always be lost among the hundreds of thousands of his new adoring fans, left in the anonymity of your Twitter tag in his subtweets, or just another subscriber that fawned over him silently behind a keyboard. Knowing that he’d actually seen your face you could feel your own beginning to heat at that moment; you brought your hands your mouth again, unknowingly curling your body tighter around the pillow in your lap as you tried to hide your face behind it as you become more and more flustered from the words nonchalantly escaping his mouth.

“Yea that’s her, pretty thing isn’t she? She’s my absolute favourite.”

That’s it, you were gonna fucking kill her.

“I mean, yeah... I guess..” The timid words followed by a soft awkward chuckle had your breath hitching in your throat. There was no fucking way this was happening. This had to be a dream, that was the only possible explanation. You were just about to pinch yourself when Rae’s voice startled you from your thoughts.

“She’s actually over right now. She insisted on getting wine drunk later tonight because her professor’s been on her ass lately. I’ll get her to come say hi.” Rae had barely turned around in her chair when she was met with your wide-eyed gaze, panic painted across your features as you shook your head wildly. You were in no state to be talking to your long-time internet crush in such a casual setting. But with the look Rae shot you from her chair as she started to plug another headset into her PC, you knew you had no choice and begrudgingly pulled yourself from the couch almost tripping over your own feet as you shakily walked over to Rae. Shooting her another pleading look, she only shoved the headset in your direction in return as she grinned up at you. Finally biting the bullet, you pulled on the headset and leaned down toward the mic.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Cursing at yourself for how quiet and shaky your words came out, you barely had any time to think it over before a chorus of greetings sounded through the headset. A small giggle escaped your lips as you watched the different Discord icons appear and disappear from the top of the screen. You knew most of these people already which made you even more confused as to how you managed to miss that voice from all the discord chats and voice calls. Well, knowing them was a bit of an overstatement anyway; you knew /of/ them, and they knew /of/ you in the other times you popped up in the background or in passing conversation during Rae’s streams. They did know you well enough, though, to know this was not the way you usually spoke around them.

“No way, that can’t be the (Y/N) I know!” The voice you recognize as Sean echoes through your headset, another chorus of knowing laughter following quickly after. Taking a deep breath you managed to force out a few words that would get them off your case.

“…Shut the fuck up”

“There she is!!” As the group erupted in laughter yet again, all you could focus on was the faint deep chuckle that resounded through your headset. Feeling your face start to heat up, you covered your wide grin with your hand as butterflies burst through your stomach; you could listen to that laugh all day. Before you were able to speak again, though, that heavenly voice piped up and wiped all train of thought from your mind.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you too Corpse. I gotta be honest ‘n say I’m a pretty big fan of your no-sleep work.” And... there’s the word vomit. Fuck, you could feel your cheeks starting to heat up with the ongoing realization of who you were talking to.

“Aha thank you, I uh really appreciate that. I’m sure you just heard, but I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours also.”

No.

No, there’s no fucking way.

Is he...

Flirting with you?

Before you could even think about what to reply to that with, the rest of the group beat you to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is happening.”

“CORPSE! You SIMP!”

“Is- Is Corpse really shooting his shot right now?”

You didn’t realize you were frozen in place until you felt Rae’s hand on your elbow, snapping you out of your bewildered trance as you tried to comprehend what was happening yourself. As your thoughts finally caught up to the present, you could feel your cheeks start to burn; pulling your hand up to cover your face you stepped out of the view of the face cam. Rae’s laughter filled the room as she watched your flustered antics, shooting you a sly grin as she started scanning the monitor displaying her live chat.

“Wait, wait, chats telling me (y/n)’s blushing right now?” Sean’s voice echoed through the discord chat, only making you flush further as you tried desperately to find a way out of this.

“Okay, okay, leave her alone.” Corpse’s voice finally piped up amid all of the chaos causing everyone to immediately pipe down. God, you didn’t even want to begin to think of the mess this has already made, you just needed to get out of there before you caused any more damage.

“Yeah, I uh- see- see that the lobby’s full so I’ll just uh- leave you guys to it.” Quietly thanking the stars that Corpse finally got you out of this mess, you went to pull the headset off your ears when that fateful voice piped up again.

“Wait, don’t let these nerds make you leave. You should stay- I mean, only to help Rae y'know? She needs it.”

“I do not!”

“I- I mean yea sure, as long as I’m not intruding,” Cursing yourself again for stuttering before forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat, “I mean, she really does need the help.”

“Okay just because you want to flirt some more doesn’t mean you can bully me-“

“Okay, I’m starting the round!” The booming accented voice cut off everyone else in the call as you all stared as the screen began to count down to the game, and before anyone had the chance to say anything else a chorus of laughs resounded, and then the lobby fell into silence.

•••

And it went on like that, the not-so-subtle flirting followed by relentless jabs from the group immediately after. The game was almost forgotten with how much of each lobby was taken up by teasing words and endless laughter, but every audience was just eating it up. You didn’t even want to think about the mess social media was going to be after this stream but right now you were having fun with your friends and that’s all that mattered. The grin was practically plastered on your face as you laughed along with Rae the chat during the gameplay portions and you knew everything from this moment on was gonna be different, but you couldn’t find a single thing within you to care.

Especially when you logged onto Twitter right after the stream and saw that little message right at the top of your requests.

@.corpsehusband: wanna hear some of that no sleep work in person?

•••

beep bop here u go,

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband imagine #corpse x you #corpse husband x you

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lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

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Sorceress (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki comes to stay at the Avengers Tower while you are away on a mission. He becomes quite interested in you when he learns you wield magic similar to him and Doctor Strange.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,260

Warnings/Disclaimers: Anxiety issues, brief mentions of blood loss and injury, Wanda being an awesome friend

Masterlist

You wound your way into the kitchen and flipped on the electric kettle. Gathering your mug, you pulled out your calming tea blend. Today was the first day of the semester, and it always made you anxious. You felt like you had not rested one bit over the summer break. It probably didn’t help that Fury had sent you on a mission for most of it and you just returned yesterday, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Just keep moving. This was your life now.

You went over the mental checklist in your head. Syllabus, notes, handouts...

“And who might you be?”

The low, charming voice ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump and almost knock over your mug. Swinging around to face the intruder, you found Loki the God of Mischief hovering closely behind you. You had forgotten about Thor contacting you on your mission to tell you Loki would be kept at the Tower for his punishment. Tony made him call you, something he did when he was afraid of you being angry. You had heard Tony coaching Thor in the background of the call.

“Don’t do that!”

He chuckled, taking a step back. “My sincerest apologies.”

“Riiiight.”

You folded your arms and took in his appearance. He definitely did not look the same as he did on the news when he tried to take New York. From the images you had seen, his eyes were wild and sunken and his face gave off a sense of malnourishment. The god standing before you now looked healthy with bright not quite blue but not quite green eyes that held a sprinkle of boyish mischief. Maybe Thor had it right about the possible mind control.

“Shall we start anew?” He bowed lightly, delicately taking the fingers of your right hand in his, forcing you to uncross your arms. “I am Prince Loki of Asgard.”

Oh no... Boyo was laying it on thick.

Nervously clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

“A lovely name, my lady. May I ask why I have not seen you here before?”

He was still holding your hand. You could feel his energy pushing against yours. Was he trying to test your abilities?

“I was on a mission overseas. Just got back last night.”

“That is a shame. I would have preferred your presence here when I first arrived.”

You heard the click of the kettle and pulled your hand away to pour the hot water in your mug. He seemed almost disappointed by the loss of contact.

“I heard from Wanda that it was pure chaos for a while. She practically begged me to abandon the mission and come home,” you chuckled. “Don’t know if that would have done any good though.”

Taking a sip of your still brewing tea, you realized Loki had retaken the step back from earlier and was nearly looming over you. You regained that space, heading for the door.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish preparing for class.”

You rocketed out the door before he had a chance to respond.

You flopped on your bed after taking a portal home. Your closest friend Wanda was there to greet you.

“So how are all the magic newbies you ditched me for?” she teased.

You huffed a laugh. “Same old, same old. College freshmen who think they already know everything. They’ll be in a world of hurt in the coming weeks.”

“At least being an adjunct professor has its perks, right?”

“Yeah. I have some semblance of a life.”

You both started giggling at that.

“Are you still going to eat with everyone for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t see why not. Today was only day one of classes. Nothing to grade yet.”

“Maybe Loki will chill out then.”

You casted Wanda a concerned look. “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up on the bed. “Ever since Thor mentioned you could wield magic, Loki kept asking when you would be back.”

“Huh,” you mulled. “Guess that would explain this morning.”

“This morning?”

You nodded and hummed. “Yeah. I was in the kitchen making tea when he showed up.”

“You talked to him before me?!” She shoved you playfully, feigning hurt feelings.

“Because I totally planned it,” you laughed.

“So what did you think?”

“You mean other than tall, dark and handsome?” You paused as she snickered. “He’s alright, I guess. He was being overly nice.”

Wanda scoffed. “That little... Okay. So, when he wasn’t holed up in his room or the library being all nice and quiet, he kept making all these snarky comments to everyone. Then, there was the pranking... He saved that mostly for Tony though.”

“So what you’re saying is to keep my guard up because he could go bipolar on me.”

“Yup.”

“Great... This is going to be fun... How long is he staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

All you could do was groan and hide your head in your pillow.

Dinner was suffocating to say the least. Loki joined the team in the dining area, apparently a rarity for him, and they were not happy about it. Well, it was mostly the original team members, the ones who fought against Loki in the Battle of New York. The newer members like you and Wanda, while not fond of him either, couldn’t care less. Thor seemed to be the only who was content, shoveling food down his throat, unable to read the room with a silence so palpable and deafening.

This is... awkward. Wanda spoke to you through her mind, something she usually did when she was uncomfortable but still needed to express herself.

No kidding. I’m thinking about ditching.

Aren’t you hungry though?

Starving! But I can’t eat like this. I’ll come back down in a couple of hours for something. Maybe I’ll watch a movie til then.

Room for one more?

Always!

With half your plate empty, you excused yourself and disposed of the scraps in the kitchen. Steve, who usually fussed at you about your not so great eating habits, did not say a word. Sneaking some snacks for the movie from the kitchen, you went back to your room to wait for Wanda who popped by about ten minutes later.

You woke with a start, stomach growling and gurgling. You blinked away the sleep from your eyes and looked around. Wanda was long gone. You guessed she went back to her room after you fell asleep at some point. She was at least nice enough to turn off the TV before disappearing.

Your belly rumbled, again. Reluctantly leaving behind the warmth of your blankets, you stumbled to your feet and hobbled to the kitchen. You reached for the light switch, the kitchen being too dim in the low lighting left on at night. The lights turned on before you could find it.

“I was wondering when you would arrive.” Your name slid off Loki’s tongue like silk.

Letting out a breath, you tempered your scowl. “What made you think I was coming down here?”

“Aside from the dinner you barely touched?” he chuckled as he traced a finger across the counter. “Well, it can be considered rude to hold a private conversation from such a small group of people.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised by a magic wielder being able to see what other magic wielders are doing.

You folded your arms. “It’s definitely considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“That is quite true.” His signature smirk graced his face. “Although, is it really eavesdropping when I did not listen to what was being said? I merely sensed the exchange of energies.”

“Sure...” You didn’t believe him, but you would let it go for now. It’s not like you two had said anything damning. You just needed to be a bit more careful moving forward. “Now would you be so kind as to stand aside? I would like something to eat, and you’re blocking the fridge.”

“My apologies, but perhaps I may be of better service to you with,” he snapped his fingers, “this.”

The leftovers from dinner instantly appeared piping hot on a plate.

“How did you-”

“Come now. I thought you were a sorceress,” he smirked teasingly.

There was the ego you were expecting.

“I can manage the same end result,” you pouted. “But... the steps leading to it would be different...”

“I could always show you how.”

That grin and those alluring aventurine eyes would be the death of you. You wanted so badly to say yes. While you had the schooling and moved on to helping others, there was still so much more to learn. To say you were eager would be an understatement. The problem was you just met this Trickster God. How could you trust him so soon?

“I... I appreciate the offer, but maybe another time.”

You tucked some of your hair behind your ear. Why did you feel guilty for turning him down?

“Of course. The offer remains standing. Enjoy your dinner, Sorceress,” he replied, his disappointed voice betraying his stoic demeanor.

With that, he swiftly left the room. Yeah. You felt bad. Maybe you would find a way to make it up to him.

Weeks later, and you were frustrated beyond belief. The last lesson you attempted to teach was going nowhere. You needed help, and you needed it now.

You sprung from your room with your notes and textbook and practically sprinted to the library where Loki could usually be found. You were right. There he was lounging with his back to you on one of the couches amongst the books, reading Dante’s Divine Comedy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Sorceress?” He didn’t even look up from the text. Not a good sign.

Taking a breath, you answered, “I was hoping I could get your help with something.”

That got his attention. “Oh? Would you not rather ask that Strange fellow the others prefer to associate with.” he scowled.

Great. Of course, he had to be in one of those moods today. His mood swings were to be expected but the timing was difficult to predict.

“Pff. The last time I asked him for help, he was a total ass. Just because he trained with a master overseas for a short period of time and has a photographic memory does not mean he fully understands every magical concept.” You brought your rant to a halt. You could say so much more but doubted anyone wanted to listen.

“Well, someone who sees that charlatan for what he truly is,” he snorted, snapping his book shut. “Now, pray tell, why would I assist you when your magic is so similar to his?”

Adding fuel to the fire. The rant was back on. With a huff, you came around to the front of the sofa and dropped your supplies on the coffee table, taking a seat next to him.

“You really want to get me started, don’t you? Look, I have been practicing and studying magic since I was child before I even knew what I was even doing. Hell, I’m still learning. That will never stop. I have worked my ass off to get this far. That’s why I get frustrated with Strange. He never believed in magic until it could help him in some fashion, and then he’s deemed a ‘master’ so soon after starting. Admittedly, yes, I am a bit jealous. However, I would not change how I have learned because it has allowed me to dig deeper and understand more.”

You inhaled deeply, signaling the end of your monologue. You had not really meant to go that far with it, but it was too late now. Your words hung in the air as Loki studied you.

“What do you need assistance with?” He flashed you a grin.

You silently screamed with relief. “Okay, so there was a theory I was trying to teach yesterday.” Flipping open the textbook to the right page, you brought your notebook and pen to your lap. “The students just aren’t getting it.”

Loki leaned over the table to read the book. “Magical Exchange: The Equal Exchange Theory...” His eyebrows could have rocketed off his forehead with how surprised he was. “This is an elementary subject.”

“It is a 101 course,” you shrugged. “I just don’t know how to explain it better. I’ve not taught a class that had issues with this before. This particular group has proven... Difficult.”

“Have you attempted a more... Oh what do you mortals call it,” he hummed. “A more ‘hands on’ approach?”

You sighed and unconsciously tapped your pen on your notebook. “Yeah. I tried to improvise like that when the text did nothing. It just made things worse.”

“I see...” His lips drooped into a frown. “Perhaps a new perspective is required.”

“You read my mind,” you teased, winking at him. You still had not forgotten that first day. “So if you were teaching this, how would you go about it?”

Clearing his throat, he picked up the text book and lounged back on the couch. An anxious silence droned on before he finally spoke again.

“This text describes the various classifications of what is considered Equal Exchange, yet there is little on what does not qualify.”

Loki proceeded on his own mini-lecture about the experiments performed by both mortals and Asgardians, many of which ended in failure due to the lack of Equal Exchange. One ended up being about the Philosopher’s Stone, a topic you had already learned quite a bit about. You scribbled notes as fast as you could, filling up a good quarter of your notebook when he had finished.

You chewed on the end of your pen while looking over your notes. “This could work. Between these explanations and showing some examples, they might grasp what all it means.” Letting out a tired sigh, you looked up at him with full sincerity. “Thank you, Loki. I owe you one.”

He chuckled deeply, sending shivers down your spine. What was he up to?

“There is one favor I wish to ask of you in exchange.”

You blinked deftly. “And what might that be?”

Taking your free hand in his, he gently swiped his thumb across your knuckles. “I merely ask for a dance.”

“A. Dance?” That was not what you had expected.

“Yes. Stark is holding one of his... illustrious parties next Saturday.”

Oh crap. You had purposely forgotten about that. Parties were not normally your thing.

“R-right! I forgot...” you mumbled, swiping your hair behind your ear.

“All I ask is one dance. Would that be acceptable?”

You gazed into his eyes where a dabble of insecure hope hid. “I... Yes. That would be nice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire when he kissed your knuckles, whispering, “Excellent,” before he helped you to your feet and gathered your belongings.

Saturday seemed to arrive all too quickly. Anxiety pulsated through your veins most of the day. Why were you so nervous? It was just one dance.

You sucked in a breath as you took in your appearance in the mirror. The off-the-shoulder, malachite dress hugged your form just right until it flowed gracefully from your hips to your knees. A silver pendant and heels tied off the look. You looked... Good. Better than you had anticipated. Now if you could just calm yourself down.

All those people, people you did not know for the most part would be there, too. Tony always invited so many guests no one else knew. But you also wouldn’t be alone. The whole team was going to be there. You would not be alone. One party should be manageable.

A knock at your door tore you from your spiraling thoughts. With a half-hearted sigh, you meandered to the door and open it to find Wanda and Vision. Wanda must have sensed your distress. She took one look at you, told Vision she would meet him downstairs, gave him a chaste kiss and stepped into your room, closing the door behind her.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this, Wanda.” You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts of nausea swimming in your head.

She said your name with such resolution, your gaze snapped up to hers. “You can do this.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t start. One, you look gorgeous. Two, you’re a professor AND Avenger. You teach in auditoriums and fight bad guys for a living. This party should not be a problem.”

“Small auditoriums...” you mumbled, earning you a look.

“Three, Vision and I will stay nearby. If any weirdo tries anything with you again, we’ll be there.”

Because you needed to remember the one party where some drunk rando was getting too handsy, the one where you had trouble controlling your abilities because you did not and do not like crowds. Tony, Steve and Wanda had to extract you after kicking out the drunk moron. That was your last party.

“I don’t want to be the third whe-”

“Shush. I’m not done.” She waved you off. “And four, once you have your dance, you can get the hell out of there. Okay?” She smiled sympathetically.

You nodded and looked at the floor. Wanda took you by the shoulders and forced you to stand.

“Alright, now breathe with me. Ground and center. Breathe. Raise your shields. Breathe.”

Doing what you were told, you started to feel better, the deep breaths helping the most.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s get going. Remember, you can do this.” She guided you towards the door.

“Right... I can do this...”

I can’t do this...

You leaned on a wall out of the way, sipping on a light cocktail that you had hoped would keep you calm. It didn’t. Between the flashing lights, pounding music and the chaotic array of energies emanating off the guests just made you want to crawl in a hole and bury yourself.

Wanda and Vision were out of your sight but you could still sense them nearby. They’d be there in a blink of an eye if you needed them, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun. It also did not help that Loki was nowhere to be seen. At first, you thought he and Thor were getting ready, but that thought was thrown out when Thor arrived fashionably late alone. Maybe Loki decided the whole thing was a waste of time and backed out of coming. Yeah. That had to be it which meant you could bug out of here early.

“There you are, Sorceress.”

Never mind. Just as you had moved to the bar to set your glass down, Loki showed up behind you. You spun around, dress flowing out as you did. He looked taken aback with his cheeks slightly flushed. He muttered something under his breath but the music and chatter drowned him out.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

He just shook his head, smiling as he reached out a hand for you. “Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

Balcony?! Why didn’t you think about going out there? It would be so much quieter.

“I would like that very much.” You took his hand and let him lead you outside.

The balcony was so much better. The doors muffled the incessant beat of the club music along with the yelling guests. You took in a deep breath, taking the chance to glance at Loki and appreciate his look.

Yup. Still attractive in Midgardian clothing. His designer suit looked as though it was made only for him, the black color matching his curling hair that brushed past his shoulders. The green tie brought out his eyes and made them seem more saturated like an emerald. You definitely appreciated the new style.

“You’re staring, Darling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I’m so used to seeing you in your Asgardian garb,” you flushed. “T-the change is not unwelcome though. You look great!”

Great. Where were your words when you needed them most? And did he call you “Darling”?

“Thank you, my dear. Now, about that dance...”

That’s when you realized he was still holding your hand.

“What about the music?”

“I have something better planned than the noise Stark has chosen.”

He pulled you close, one hand encased yours while the other placed your free hand on his shoulder before snapping his fingers and keeping you close by the small of your back. A record player appeared playing Merry-Go-Round of Life.

“Shall we?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes.”

Loki swayed with you along the length of the balcony, leading you into spins in time with the music. Neither of you had said a word since you started moving, but you did not need to. Everything was perfect. You felt like you were dancing on clouds amongst the stars. All of your anxiety had melted away. Needless to say, you were disappointed when the song ended.

“I do not suppose I would be able to convince you for another dance?”

Loki held your hands in his as he pulled back. He seemed just as disappointed as you.

“Well,” you mocked contemplation, “That wasn’t part of the original agreement.”

The soft grip on your hands loosened even more.

“But, I don’t see why I can’t make an exception, especially seeing how your explanations went over so well with the students. I haven’t thanked you for that part,” you smirked and with a golden flourish of your hand, changed the music on the record player.

Loki’s grin put the starlight to shame as he brought you back to him. As one song ended, one of you would switch it out to keep the music going.

Neither of you knew how long you were out there for. It had to have been more than a couple of hours since Tony was the one to break up your private party.

“Reindeer Games, Magic Hands! Pack it up! Party guests have already left!”

Both of you grimaced, hating your nicknames. Regardless, Loki led you back inside. Wanda and Vision had stayed throughout the party while you were on the balcony, and gave both of you these little knowing looks as you passed them. Ignoring them, Loki walked you to your room.

“Thank you, Loki. You made the night much more enjoyable,” you smiled brightly.

He smiled back, playing with the fingers of your hands. “I am happy to be of assistance, Sorceress.”

A moment of silence and you stepped forward, thinking of something a touch bold. “You know, if this were to become a regular occurrence, I might be persuaded to show up at Stark’s parties more often.”

A low chuckle reverberated in his chest. “That could be arranged.”

“I hope so.” You leaned on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, again.”

You slipped past your door so quickly you didn’t notice the lightly dusted blush on Loki’s face.

Today was not a good day. Scratch that. It was a terrible day. Some senior in Advanced Summoning got cocky and accidentally summoned a few large, irate creatures from the Fae Realm. With you being an Avenger and working for the school, it was no surprise you were chosen to handle the situation. Killing would have been easier, but you could not bring yourself to do it. It’s not their fault they were ripped from their home and dropped in an unfamiliar world. You were able to open a portal and send them back but not without sustaining a critical injury. You were barely able to close the portal before passing out from blood loss.

You woke up in the medical wing of the campus, a fog clouding your brain. You felt the dull pain in your side where one of the creatures had swiped its claws whenever you tried to move.

“Oh! Please lie still!” A healer came rushing over. “You don’t want to reopen the wound. We’ve done all we can to heal you without overloading your body.”

You just nodded and rested your head on the pillow. Looking at the window, you noticed how dark it was.

“What time is it?”

The healer looked at you nervously. “A little after 10PM.”

Groaning, you sank into the pillow more. “Do you know where my phone is? I need to make a call.”

The team knew your schedule, and they were going to flip, especially Loki. You two had grown attached to each other since the start of your balcony dances (there had been at least six so far). The status of your relationship was in limbo, somewhere between friends and romantic partners. Neither of you seemed to know which way to go.

The healer left the room momentarily before rushing back in. Handing you your phone, she warned, “Now, your phone started going off non-stop since about six this evening. We had to answer just to see if it was important and if they could wait until you called back. Th-the man on the other end. He was.. Not. Pleased. He started demanding to know where you were...”

“I understand,” you cut her off softly. “If I could get some privacy please, I will call him.”

She nodded and headed to the door.

“And whatever else he said, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The healer pursed her lips and closed the door behind her. What the hell did he say to her?

You picked Loki’s contact in your phone. He answered in barely one ring, calling out your name. “Norns, are you alright?! Where are you? What happened?”

“Loki, I’m fine. I’m still on campus. There was a little mishap that I had to take care of. Got a little banged up in the process, but everything is okay.” You added that last part quickly.

“A little mishap? You should have returned hours ago. Please, allow me to bring you home.”

“Loki, the school only allows faculty members and students on campus. The wards make sure of that. And despite the constant demands, even Fury and Strange have not been granted access. They don’t even know where to look. Besides, you’re on lockdown. Remember?” You tried to reason with him, but knew he would not give up so easily.

He pleaded your name. Lately, he almost always stuck to pet names for you, only using your name when he was truly upset. “Please... I need to know that you are in good health.”

“I am, Loki. I will more than likely be back at the Tower in the morning.”

“Not tonight?” His pout was clear even over the phone.

“It’s late and I doubt the healers would let me check myself out at this hour.”

“I- Alright.” The defeated tone in his voice made your heart break.

“I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Please...”

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pulled the phone away to hang up, you heard him call your name.

“Yes?”

“I... I will see you tomorrow.”

You hummed with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

It was early morning when you finally left the campus. Loki didn’t answer his phone, so you left him a voicemail instead, fairly sure he knew how to access it. Cell phones still were not his strong suit, but he was getting better.

Stepping through the Tower doors, you were greeted by Happy who gave you the world’s most gentle bear hug. He had Friday let the others know you were headed up.

“By the way,” he yelled to you as you stepped in the elevator. “Loki was up all night worrying about you. You should go talk to him.” He winked at you.

You just shook your head as the elevator doors. When they reopened at the common room floor, you were greeted with Wanda tackling you before she dragged you out.

“Loki told us something went down at the University. What happened?!”

She pulled you into the common room to one of the sofas.

“Some moron was trying to impress a girl in Advanced Summoning. Brought in some undocumented creatures from the Fae Realm.”

“Of course... Now you were hurt? Where?” She started looking you over.

You lifted your shirt just enough to show the heavy bruising on your side. “The healers did a decent patch up. Just have to deal with this for a couple days, and then I’m good.”

“I wish I could help, but healing is not my forte.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” you smiled reassuringly, letting your shirt fall.

“Fine is not how you would have been classified yesterday,” a low voice came from behind the couch, startling you.

“L-Loki! I thought I had told you not to do that!” You clutched your chest, taking a deep breath.

“Darling, may I speak with you? Alone.” Loki gestured for you to follow him.

You squeezed Wanda’s hand apologetically. “I’ll come find you later.”

Loki led you out, down the hall and into the library. He didn’t say a word until he sat you down on the couch next to him, gaze on his lap.

“Loki... I-”

“Dove, what were you thinking taking on those beasts on your own?” He clutched your hands tightly.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m one of the few stateside who is trained in battle magic,” you pleaded.

He was upset. It was obvious. Your heart shattered with how he looked at you, fear and worry melded into one.

“You could have called for assistance.”

“Loki, we’ve been over this-”

“Would they not have made an exception with their students in danger.” It was a statement. He was right about that.

“If there were time, yes. They needed to be dealt with immediately.” You tore your hands from his grasp and cupped his face for him to really look you in the eyes. “Loki. Everything turned out alright. I’m still here, and I’m okay.”

“And yet you almost were not.” His voice was so quiet, you barely heard him. “I... I do not...”

You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, encouraging him to go on. He pulled one hand away to hold while leaning into the other.

“Just be more careful from now on. Please.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me.” He squeezed your hand.

“I will. But first.” You took your hand from his face. “Finish what you were saying.”

He froze. “I am not sure what you mean.”

“You cut yourself off three times within twenty-four hours. You always finish your sentences. Now. What were you going to say?”

He still was not used to being caught, his initial confusion evident in his eyes which then darted about the room nervously. You sighed, and with a golden flourish of your hand, the library doors shut and locked.

“There. No one to walk in and disturb us or overhear.”

Loki was silent. He stared at your hand that was intertwined with his, then met your eyes.

“I do not know what I would do without you,” he whispered, bringing you into his arms in one fluid motion, your head tucked under his chin.

The scent of cedar and sage filled your senses as you returned the embrace and carded your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s not something you need to think about. I’m not going anywhere,” you responded softly. “Promise.”

He hugged you close, pulling you into his lap. His chest rose with a deep breath before he kissed the top of your head.

#loki x reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x you #marvel #marvel avengers #the avengers #s.h.i.e.l.d.#loki imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki friggason #loki oneshot #wanda maximov #wanda #wanda marvel

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Text

Perchance to Meet Aizawa Shouta x fem!Reader

Hi again! So this idea has been flowing and living in my head rent free for awhile so I thought I’d write out what I’ve been mulling over! This may possibly be a series cause I’ve got lots of the story played out in my mind

A/n: if my timeline is correct, this occurs a bit before the main story so like whole class 1-A is still in middle schoolish; it’s not 18+ now but it will be muahahahaha

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Part 2

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He wasn’t sure what compelled him to join his coworkers for night out but here is. It might have been the constant pestering he got from his long time friend Hizashi and newer friend Nemuri. However he can’t complain now because he, Aizawa Shouta, was out at lesser known club wondering just what the hell he was getting himself into.

To say that this wasn’t his scene is an understatement. Did he really want to be spending his night off around a bunch of sweaty and drunk people? Of course not; he’s immediately regretting not bringing his sleeping bag to at least make himself more comfortable. The loud and banging bass of the music rumbles throughout his body as his two companions return to their booth after a bit of dancing.

“Aw come on Shouta! We’re here to have fun! Let loose, and vibe with the music ya dig?”

Aizawa gives the blond a glare that would scare children into submission. Hizashi doesn’t give up at getting his friend to lighten up and enjoy himself and smiling broadly. He continues to poke Aizawa’s shoulder to get him up on the dance floor.

“Not on your life.”

“At least get a drink! There’s a real cute and groovy listener that’s serving drinks and she’s amazing at what she does,” he yells over the music. “Trust me!” He drawls out that last word to let him know that his inebriated state had hit him hard. Aizawa rolls his eyes and succumbs to his friends wishes as he slowly makes his way out of the booth to head over to the main bar. He’s thankful for deciding to put his hair in a low ponytail as he feels the humidity of the club around him while he weaves his way thorugh the crowd. As he approaches the bar, he spots Nemuri. Her sapphire eyes dance under the flashing and changing lights as she takes a stranger toward some stairs near the back. She’s always up to something, he muses to himself.

Once at the bar, he manages to find an empty stool in a corner and props himself up onto it. Now that he’s here, he didn’t think to ask Hizashi what this person looked like. Oh well, at least he’ll get another drink to make this night more bearable. His eyes glance over the liquors and sprits on the shelves behind the bartenders as he contemplates what he wants to order.

“You know, staring at the shelves won’t make your decision any easier.”

Aizawa is brought out of his thoughts as he follows the voice to its owner. He blinks a couple of times to make sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. (E/c) irises bore into his and the smile that dances on her lips almost made him lose his composure.

Almost.

“Well then,” he responds, “what would you recommend?”

The bartender scans his being and lightly places her hand on his. Black eyebrows furrow in confusion but she calmly tells him it’ll be okay and to give her a second. Her eyes slightly change color as she holds his hand and stares into his with an intensity he’s never gotten from any random stranger. As soon as she lets go he’s missing her touch already. Weird.

“You’re here for your friends and you just want to be able to relax or even better go home and snuggle in, I’m assuming your bed or sleeping bag, am I right?”

She giggles softly at his taken aback face. She takes his silence as a means to continue. “Judging from that, you’re not too particular about liquors but you don’t want anything too sweet. So I’ll make you a whiskey on the rocks and an Old Fashioned. How does that sound?”

The slender built man feels like he has to physically shut his jaw at this bartenders analysis of him. Just how the hell did she do that? And how did she know that’s exactly what he goes to when he’s undecided?

At the sound of glassware being placed in front of him, Aizawa moves to get his wallet to pay. He meets her gaze and she shakes her head. “On the house, but I have one condition.” His eyebrow lifts in surprise.

“Oh? And what is that?”

“That you stay here and keep me company.”

It was strange. Hizashi hadn’t come to check on him since he left their booth almost 30 minutes ago and he hadn’t realized how long time had passed talking with the bartender. It was also strange how the atmosphere of the club blurred into the background the more he chatted with this person. Aizawa found out that her name is (Y/n) (L/n) and she has a mind quirk. She’s able to understand and know what people, or in her case customers, are feeling and how to make them feel better whether it be a drink, a book, the right words to say... She noted to him that she always had a need to help people feel better but didn’t want to be a hero, saying she wanted to help in more simple ways.

“I think that’s very heroic in its own way,” he states after taking a sip from his second whiskey on the rocks. “It’s admirable that you want to help others no matter what.”

(Y/n) laughs at that sadly as she makes another patrons drink. It’s incredible how the 20 something is able to hold a conversation with him and serve others at the same time. However, Aizawa picked up on something the more he saw her hands work. When she returns her (e/c) eyes look downcast. “Yeah I guess,” she sighs, “I mean don’t get me wrong I love working here but my real love is books.”

Aizawa gulps down the rest of his drink, “Books?”

The hero doesn’t miss the way her eyes light up at the mention of books, almost like he had been talking to the shell that was (Y/n) this whole time. “I own my own bookstore. It’s small but I’m hoping to expand; that’s why I picked up hours here at the club. Aizawa-san, the rush I get when someone wants to discover more about themselves through books and being able to provide that to someone,” she breathes to catch her breath, “is a feeling I can never get tired of.”

Her (h/c) hair whisks away as another customer comes up and asks for a drink and again he notices it. She didn’t grab their hand or stare into their souls. Why only him?

She returns and proceeds to take his empty glasses and cleans them. As she’s drying them he promptly asks, “Why didn’t you use your quirk on those other customers? Why only me?”

Aizawa doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her shoulders drop. She deeply sighs and finishes drying the drink-ware. “I don’t like to use it all the time. It’s gotten me in trouble and it can be tiring so I only save it for my bookstore and particular occasions.”

“So what’s so special about me?”

“You looked like you could use a pick me up.”

He snickered at her observant ways as she presses on. “I’ve gotten really good and understanding people, even without my quirk. Many people know what they want to drink at a bar or even a bookstore. But sometimes you can tell that people want something more or something different and that’s where I come in to help.”

At this point, he can’t help but openly stare at the gorgeous woman in front of him. There was something about her presence, something about her aura that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, maybe it was the music, maybe it was him still reeling from the news of All Might joining his school, or maybe...

Maybe it was just her.

Everything about her was shrouded in mystery but also familiarity and calmness. He didn’t know how long he was staring at her until she was staring back asking if he was okay. He caught himself and quickly apologized as she searched for his phone. A grunt left his lips as he saw the frantic texts from Hizashi and one from Nemuri telling them both that she had her own ride home. As soon as he was about to respond he felt two strong hands on his shuolder.

“Shouta! I’ve been looking for ya buddy! I thought you left, which wouldn’t have surprised me but here you are!”

The calmer friend had removed his fingers from his ears to compensate for the vocal hero’s yelling. A small, yet brief, smile adorns his face as Aizawa is reunited with his friend.

“Anyways, I was thinking that it’s about time to head out since it’s nearing 1:30 in the morning!”

“Ah, sounds good.” Aizawa hums to him and turns his attention to the bar, only to see her being bombarded with customers as last call is nearing in the club. Their eyes meet briefly and he points his head toward the door indicating that he plans to head out. Somehow she understands and quickly wraps up her remaining customers to return to their corner. He feels Hizashi pull on his shirt and he tells him to wait a few minutes which garners an exasperated sigh from thie blond man.

However as the bartender returns, the blond understands and smiles wickedly. He tries to keep his excitement to himself but he wants to let it flow and tell everyone in the club that his dear friend, Aizawa Shouta, was having a very long conversation with a woman! At a club! That he didn’t want to go to! So he does what any good best friend does and eavesdrops while keeping a safe distance.

(Y/n) props her elbow on the bar and gives her attention to he black haired male who’s had it the whole night. She doesn’t want to come off as weird but she had noticed him when he first entered. Of course she would recognize the underground pro-hero Eraserhead and his friends from U.A. Present Mic and Midnight. She’d be an idiot to not know who they were. She had a hunch that they didn’t want their hero status exposed tonight she she had asked the staff to keep themselves neutral as they saw them throughout the club. She can understand the need to get away and let loose, but she didn’t peg Aizawa as the type to go out to places like this. If she’s being honest, she’s incredibly happy he came here because it was the first time in a long time she felt truly comfortable around someone. It made her elated, but also scared at the same time.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out?”

Aizawa simply nods and pulls out his wallet again. “I told you it’s on the house-”

“At least let me pay for half, Kitty, I had a few while I was here.”

Both parties freeze at the use of the pet name. (S/c) cheeks start to heat up and change color as she felt her heartbeat start to race. The man in front of her had a slight pink tint to his ears but was able to recover quickly. “Ah, y-yeah sure. I’ll ring you up.”

He doesn’t miss the way a bolt of electricity flowed through them as their fingers grazed each other as he handed her his card. When she returned with his receipt he noticed an extra card underneath his. It was a business card for what seems to be a bookstore with an address, hours, and phone number on it. His eyes meet hers in an almost homely way.

“I really liked talking to you Aizawa-san. I’d, uh, really like it if you visited me in the daylight.”

He takes the card and places it securely in his wallet and gives her the most heartfelt smile she’s ever seen.

“I’d like that very much, (L/n).”

BONUS

“I told you she was super cute!”

“Shut it”

“So that’s where you went for almost two hours! I mean I’m glad you and Nemuri had a great night while I was being bombarded with fans! By the way thanks for saving me regardless of how much I texted you but you were busy getting some,” he pauses and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “you know a phone number.”

“It’s not too late to end our friendship.”

“Zawa!! So mean!”

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@whats-her-quirk @kiribaku-queen @ghoularaki @cupidcreates @cupcake-rogue @myherowritings @prk-pyo

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #yamada hizashi #mha nemuri #mha reader insert #mha fanfiction #my writing #i did the thing #bnha x y/n #perchance

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etraytin · 4 years

Text

Quarantine, Day 149

August 7

I've been too busy or distracted for the last few days to properly inundate you all with kitten pictures, but that ends now! You have been warned! Today I had lights and a fully charged phone and the will to use them, so you are going to feel the wrath of this fully armed and operational cat lady. I am also posting this during first dinnertime, so my background music is tiny Katara making improbably loud smacking noises while she eats babycat food mixed with warm water.

Clockwise from top left: Zuko, Sokka, Katara, Aang

Now that the kittens are debugged and down to about 30% of their original hissiness levels, they are ready for cuddle times. Zuko won the best cuddler award today by actually purring when I picked him up, so he is my current favorite. Sokka needs his nails trimmed very badly, Katara is picking up the hissing slack for her unacceptably trusting brothers, and Aang has finally started using the litterbox but cries when he poops. (This is not uncommon for kittens who are first learning to go unstimulated, but I'm going to keep an eye on him to make sure he's not constipated.) Four weeks is a very fun age, so this should be a good kitten week, knock on wood. They are all eating well and don't need a bottle, which makes my life way easier.

Zuko and Aang

Katara still thinks I might be planning on eating her. She is the size of my hand but will go down hissing all the same.

It is just as well that these guys are weaned because the MPRE snuck right up on me. I started studying a couple weeks ago, but there's always so much to do. BARBRI's MPRE study program is funny because it's basically a taste test of their bar review program for the 2L students who typically sit for the MPRE. It's set up exactly like the bar review course, but where the typical bar review lecture is 2-3 hours, these lectures are about 15-20 minutes and each one covers a discrete subtopic of professional responsibility. Altogether, they are maybe just a little bit longer than the professional responsibility lecture I listened to for the bar review back in February. (Many states do not include PR on their bar exam at all because of the MPRE, but Virginia has more testable subjects than any other state and throws that one in as well, so I got a module on it.) In any case, I have been listening to these little bite sized lectures and doing the learning questions, then looking at the outline, then moving on. I plan to have all the modules done by tomorrow, then spend the weekend doing the three practice tests, sixty questions each. All three practice tests together are not as long as the bar exam practice test! I keep reminding myself that even though the subject matter is limited and I've covered the material many times before, I have to take it seriously. It would be both inconvenient and extremely embarrassing to pass the bar exam and fail the fucking MPRE at this late date. I'm also going to have to take at least one of those practice tests with a mask on, bleah.

Ha, I have successfully tricked the kittens out of sleeping in their yucky litterbox (they are too young for nice clumping litter because they might eat it) by offering them a decoy litterbox with a towel in it. Cats do love boxes!

(Sokka is behind the box, he is so fuzzy I cannot get him in focus for a solo picture.)

The kiddo and I went to the library today for the first time since March! It only opened on Wednesday and there were very few people there, but they'd arranged it so there's lots of open space and a counter right by the front where a friendly guy offered us hand sanitizer and reminded us about social distance. We were finally able to turn in March's library books, which had fine amnesty thank God, and snagged some new stuff. I wasn't feeling creative so I took advantage of the lack of patrons to snag a couple of newer Nora Roberts books, the kind that are usually hard to get hold of. I read a funny meme the other day of "2020 As Described by Nora Roberts Books" that showed Happily Ever After for January, Storm Warning for February, and then seven copies of Shelter In Place for March through August. The kiddo got a couple of graphic novels and also picked out two books with no pictures at all after I promised I'd get him a magnifying glass if he wanted it. Kiddo is farsighted and has glasses to read, but he may need a new prescription. I should get on that.

Okay, knowing myself as I do, I took a brief break there to order some cheap little sheet magnifiers off Amazon because I try to keep my promises. It is hard when you are very forgetful, but I try! Not too much else to report today, oh, except I went into my primary doctor's office for the first time in many months. It was for a heat rash, of all things, but I just couldn't get it to go away! I could probably have done it online, but when it's a rash it's kind of easier to just go in there than to try and find the right light and the phone with the best camera, and this way I don't have a lot of weird pictures of my armpit for posterity. She gave me a steroid cream prescription and it is starting to feel better already.

While I was getting the prescription filled, I got way, way too excited about the electronics clearance at Rite Aid and bought fifty dollars worth of stuff. (By Rite Aid's calculation it was 200 dollars worth of stuff because I spent 50 and saved 150, but you know how their prices are.) In any case, I got two wall chargers and a car charger, two sets of earbuds, a stereo headset with microphone for virtual school, and the piece de resistance, a waterproof Bluetooth speaker that also has a multicolored light display. The kiddo is in love already and I hope it encourages him to more frequent showering. My 50 also bought me some melatonin gummies, some multivitamin gummies, a bag of chocolate snacky stuff, and two packs of Magic: the Gathering decks that the kiddo was distinctly underwhelmed by. He likes Pokemon cards so much despite not having the first idea how to play, I thought these might be good too. I'll set them aside in case he gets interested later. I am pretty sure that four dollars apiece is not bad for 60 card decks, even if they are planeswalker themed. Anyway it was a nice haul and now I can stop bitching at everyone and no-one every time I can't find a wall charger to plug into. A small price to pay for peace of mind! (And the cream itself cost $2.19, so at least I can feel a little good about our truly exorbitant health insurance this week.)

Who wouldn’t believe this guy can save the world?

#quarantine #feral kittens #atla #aang #zuko #barbri #mpre #katara #sokka

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sonicrainicorn · 4 years

Text

Only Us (Part 2)

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 10459 Desc.: Thomas and Logan have always been close. From the moment Logan was born, Thomas swore he’d do anything for his baby brother. Unfortunately, it was a promise to be taken to the extremes. (First part here) TW: Character death (mentioned), anxiety attacks, attempted rape/non-con (mentioned), relationship abuse, there is also exactly one (1) swear word

I’m actually a little sorry for this one.

///

It must have been a day after the funeral. Logan was in his room, laying stomach down on his bed with his face in the pillow. He didn’t want to do anything. Thomas was in the kitchen making cookies from scratch. Unlike Logan, he needed to do something. And then there was a knock at the door.

Logan didn’t think much about it at first. Yeah, it was a little weird, but maybe it was important mail or someone who tries to sell stuff. That happened sometimes.

He heard Thomas open the door and... let that person in. Okay. That didn’t normally happen. Still, it might not have been important. Maybe. Yeah, okay, Logan was curious now. He rolled out of bed and shuffled to his door.

There was a deep voice coming from the other side that he didn’t recognize. He didn’t focus on the words at the moment, he was more focused on the voice and the millions of questions it gave him. Who was it? Why were they here? What could they possibly want?

He tried to be as silent as possible as he snuck out the door. He didn’t want anyone hearing him for fear that they may stop talking. He learned recently that adults stop talking about important things when they see that a kid is nearby. But he wanted to know those important things. He peeked down the hall.

Thomas sat with a man at the dining table. The man wore nice clothes, but nothing that could be considered fancy. He looked serious, though. Thomas didn’t seem too happy about what he had to say. And then Logan heard the words “emergency foster care”. This man was a social worker.

Their mother had no siblings. There were no aunts or uncles or cousins to take them in. Her parents died before either of the boys had a chance to know them. There was no one to fall back on.

He and Thomas were going into foster care.

“We’ll try to be contacting your father as soon as possible,” the man explained. “But until then, you will have to be placed with an emergency foster family.”

“No,” Thomas said, borderline indignant. “I can take care of Logan myself. I-I helped raise him. I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m sorry, but this is how it has to go. You two have to be cared for by a legal adult.”

“I’m going to be a legal adult. I turn eighteen next week.”

“And when that week comes you get to see him as much as you wish.”

Logan didn’t want to hear this anymore. He may have been young, but he knew what was going to happen. They were going to separate him and Thomas. The likelihood of someone wanting to take care of two teenage boys was slim. And when Thomas turned eighteen, he’d be free to leave. But Logan would be stuck. They wouldn’t see Thomas as a suitable guardian. He had no job -- no source of income. He was still in high school.

Going over all the facts made Logan feel... something. He felt his chest tighten and his legs go weak. There was a pressure pushing down on him, making everything seem too small. He needed to get out -- he needed to stop hearing this.

He ran back to his room and shut the door. He dove under the covers of his bed like a scared little kid. Maybe that’s what he was. All he was was a scared little kid who cried at things he couldn’t stand up to. Who froze up and ran away when he heard things he didn’t like.

He tried to wrap the blanket tighter around himself to drown out his thoughts. They were too loud. He couldn’t breathe. It was like his lungs forgot how to expand and contract on their own. They were doing too much of one and not the other, and he couldn’t focus enough to fix it. He knew he had to fix it, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. It was too much -- everything was too much. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stand it. It was too much. He couldn’t do it.

“Logan?”

That was Thomas. Focus on Thomas. Answer Thomas.

He couldn’t answer Thomas.

The edge of the bed dipped. “Logan -- hey -- I need you to listen to me, alright?” His voice was gentle. “Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, and breathe out for eight.”

Logan tried to follow the steps -- he tried so hard. He couldn’t do it. He was choking. “I -- I --” A sob escaped his lips instead of coherent words.

“Alright. We’re gonna try something else, okay? Focus on me, Logan. I know you can do this. You know your room, right? What are five things you can touch?”

Logan knew one. “B-blanket.” Associate. “Bed.” Keep going. “P-pillow.” He kept track with his fingers. Using his brain was too hard. “Sheets.” He stretched out his arm to where he assumed Thomas was. “You.”

Thomas held Logan’s searching hand. “That’s good. You’re doing great. What are four things you can see?”

He peeked his head over his blanket cocoon. “Wall.” Expand. “P-poster.” Elaborate. “Th-the Doctor Who one. And the Winnie th-the Pooh one.” One more, “You.”

Thomas smiled. It erased the concern on his face for a brief second. “Three things you can hear.”

“My breathing.” It wasn’t as heavy anymore, though still a bit ragged. “My alarm clock -- but only in the morning.” It was easier to think -- to talk. “And your voice.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“The cookies in the oven.” Things were better. “The flour you dropped on your shirt.”

Thomas glanced down at the rather large white patch clinging to the front of his shirt. “That’s kind of embarrassing... Anyway, one thing you can taste.”

“Nothing that would be sanitary.”

Thomas chuckled. “That’s a safe answer.” He squeezed Logan’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Not like I’m dying.” He sat up. His limbs were wobbly. “How did you know how to do that?”

He shrugged. “You learn a thing or two when you get older.”

Fair enough, Logan supposed. He crawled closer to Thomas and put his head on his arm. It felt better to be near him. “What’s going to happen now?”

Thomas sighed. “We’re going to have to leave.”

“Right now?”

He didn’t say anything, but that was an answer in itself.

“Oh.”

He squeezed Logan’s hand again. “I’ll help you pack.”

They were allowed to bring whatever they could carry. Their social worker didn’t help. He made it seem like they needed to leave as fast as possible. Logan didn’t want to leave at all. But they left. It wasn’t until the house was fading from view that he realized Cara’s guitar was still in his closet.

~~~

Their emergency foster family was nice enough, but Logan was more glad about getting to stay with Thomas longer. It was an older man and woman. There were pictures of them with two kids. A boy and a girl. Logan assumed it was their children. He noticed a newer picture of the girl in a college graduation gown. There was another one with the boy in a suit and a woman next to him wearing white. He didn’t know why they’d want to be foster parents when they had their own kids -- emergency foster parents no less. A position where you get traumatized kids dropped off at your doorstep under short notice.

But they were nice. They let Logan and Thomas be alone in their room. And that was another thing Logan was glad for. Sharing a room. He didn’t think he’d be able to be apart from Thomas.

They sat on a bed together, not saying much at first. It was a rough month.

Logan had The Phantom Tollbooth clutched tightly to his chest. He was afraid to put it down. He didn’t want to forget it like another important item of his. “I left my guitar behind,” he muttered after the long stretch of silence.

Thomas paused. “I’m sure we’ll get it back.”

Logan didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you wanna see something?” Thomas asked with a small smile.

“Sure.”

Thomas hopped off the bed. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a large photo album.

Logan couldn’t stop the grin growing on his face. “You brought the photo album?”

He shrugged. “I just felt like I needed to grab something.” He sat back on the bed. The album was meant to mimic a thick book. It was dark blue and squishy with the edges being worn down from use. It was mostly baby pictures of both boys, which made it their mother’s favorite album. There were other pictures, but mainly baby pictures. “Wanna look through it?”

“Yeah, I like making fun of you.”

Thomas scoffed. “Whatever. Don’t act like you don’t have any embarrassing pictures in here.” He flipped it open to the first page.

The very first picture was of Thomas and their mother. She sat in a hospital bed with her newborn in her arms, smiling softly at the camera. She looked a lot younger here. Like the same age as Thomas and his friends. It made Logan realize that he didn’t actually know how old his mother was when she was first pregnant. He never noticed how much younger she looked compared to other mothers.

“She looks like a kid,” Logan couldn’t help but mutter.

Thomas frowned a bit, eyes glued on her face. “She was.” But he didn’t elaborate.

Regardless, the first few pages of the album were of Thomas. Their mother would pop up every once in a while with a large smile that made Logan’s heart ache, but it mainly focused on Thomas. There was his birthdays, his first day of school, him just being a little kid. And then there was another picture taken in a hospital. A story frozen in time.

Thomas sat on the hospital bed next to his mother, hanging close to her arm. They both smiled down at the little bundle she held. A newborn Logan. They gazed at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

“I forgot how tiny you were,” Thomas commented with a hint of amusement.

“I’m still tiny,” Logan replied bitterly. He was one of the shortest kids in his grade. Cara was half a head taller than him.

“Well, when you were a baby you were a lot smaller than you should have been.”

“I was?”

“You were born a few weeks early.”

“I was?”

Thomas laughed a bit at the repeated phrase in the exact same cadence. “Yeah. But maybe you just got stuck with the short genes. You were a healthy size by the time you were one.”

Oh, lame. He was going to be short forever.

“I guess we won’t know for sure until you’re all grown up.”

That was less lame.

Thomas turned the page. His hand froze on it. There was a picture of their dad. It was one of the only ones Logan had ever seen of him; he smiled at the camera with Thomas in his lap. It was a small, polite smile. It wasn’t a large grin like their mother’s. Or a radiant beam like Thomas’s. It was subdued. It didn’t bring as much joy with it. Logan wondered if that’s what he always smiled like, or if that was something he did for pictures.

“Do you think he’ll take us in?” Logan brought himself to ask.

“I don’t know.” He turned the page.

On the fourth day, they finally had a permanent solution. They had a new social worker come in — a woman named Miss Janelle Wilton — to tell them that their father gave up legal custody. He didn’t want anything to do with them. The only thing to do now was put them into foster care.

And once again Logan found himself not understanding. He never had a dad before. He wasn’t familiar with the concept. But weren’t dads… supposed to want their children? Why didn’t their father want them? He noticed Thomas get angry at the news. Thomas was rarely ever angry. But the moment he heard that their dad gave up on them, he could barely restrain his fury.

They were going to be placed with foster families tomorrow.

Families.

More than one.

“I’m sorry,” Miss Wilton said. She seemed genuine about it. “We were unable to find a household willing to take both of you.”

Even though Logan knew that would happen, it still hurt to hear. This would be his last night with Thomas. Maybe ever. And he didn’t know what to do.

“I can’t believe him,” Thomas exploded as soon as they were alone in their room. It startled Logan. “He didn’t even want to try.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. He had never seen Thomas so angry before. He didn’t want him to be angry, but he didn’t know what to say to make it better. Unlike him, Thomas knew what it was like to have a dad. He knew how dads were supposed to be. Apparently, dads were supposed to try.

Thomas began to pace the length of the room, clearly doing it in an attempt to cool off.

Logan crawled onto his temporary bed and watched him. He still didn’t know what to do. He ran his thumb along the spine of the book in his arms. “Did you think that he would?” He got himself to speak at last.

“I don’t know — maybe. I hoped…” He sighed. “I wanted to believe there was at least something good in him.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He paused, eyeing Logan briefly as some of his anger escaped. “I —” He sighed again — “I never told Mom about it, but I ran into Dad last year.” He ignored the wide-eyed look Logan gave him. “Honestly, he seemed more surprised to see me than I was to see him. I had no idea why. It wasn’t as if I expected him to be there, either.” He crossed his arms, his anger reigniting. “I was out with Valerie and Terrence — not exactly a witch hunt — yet he acted as if there was a reason I was there. Evidently, he didn’t want the kid he left ruining his date.”

Logan caught onto the bitterness in his words but decided not to comment.

“I tried to be nice to him. I tried to see the best in him. He's my dad so he had to at least be nice. But then he told me why he left. And it was stupid and selfish, and it was all because —" He cut himself off, catching sight of Logan. And his face softened a bit.

He tightened his hold on his book. "Because what?"

His face softened further, and he sighed yet again, his anger going out with it. "It doesn't matter." He sat beside Logan. "It was a dumb reason, anyway."

"Well, I don't think there's a smart reason to run away from your kids and wife."

Thomas snorted. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Later that night, neither of them could sleep. Dread hung in the air between them. The knowledge that they would be separated tomorrow stung with a bitter, almost palpable taste. Rather than stew in it alone, Logan decided to slip out of his bed and into Thomas's. Thomas turned his head to look at him.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you’re just a baby boy,” his voice tapered off into the ‘I’m-talking-to-someone-way-younger-than-me’ tone — which Logan always loathed. And Thomas knew this. He only ever did it to be annoying. To add to this, he kept cooing about his baby brother. Referring to Logan directly as his baby or little brother was another thing he did to be annoying. He wrapped his arms around Logan and squeezed him tight, continuing his baby talk.

“Noo,” Logan whined. He tried to wriggle out but found he had no room. It didn’t help that he still had his book between his arms. On instinct, he almost called out for his mom for assistance, but instead he said, “Stop it. I’ll bite you.”

Thomas sighed as if it was the most ridiculous quest to befall him. “Fine.” But he didn’t let go. Logan decided not to comment on this. “You know,” he started softly after a moment, “whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll make sure to find my way back to you.”

Rather than risk bursting into tears coming up with a response, Logan buried his face into the crook of Thomas’s neck. He didn’t want to leave. Thomas was all he had left. After that, what else could anyone take from him? The few possessions he was able to grab before he left the house? What did those things mean in the end? He didn’t want things he wanted people. He could lose everything he ever owned, but as long as he had Cara, or his mom, or Thomas, then it didn’t matter. But that wasn’t his circumstance.

“Are you holding something?”

They both moved away enough for Logan to show his book. “I don’t wanna put it down,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Did you want to read it?”

“Um…”

“Or do you want me to read it?”

He nodded and handed the book over.

Thomas turned on the lamp beside the bed. He positioned himself so that Logan was still close, but he was able to hold the book with both hands. “‘There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself — not just sometimes, but always.’”

~~~

Before Logan left, he grabbed a photo from the photo album. He did it when Thomas wasn’t looking. Like it was some secret. But he didn’t want to be told he couldn’t take one or be judged on what he decided to take. He took the first picture he saw. Thomas’s fourth birthday. They were sitting at the dining table. Thomas was on his mother’s lap with his usual wide smile. She had her chin resting on the top of his head with sparkling eyes. The cake was decorated with blue frosting and topped with a number four candle.

He put it in his book.

He didn’t talk the whole way to his foster family. He didn’t even talk when he got there. There was no amount of coercing or gentle words that would get him to open his mouth. He just held his book close to his chest and kept his eyes cast on the ground. They left him alone soon enough. Not that it mattered.

His room was small. Light peach walls empty of any personality. Logan supposed he was meant to fix that, but he wasn’t going to. He didn’t want to get comfortable here. He didn’t want to stay. He wanted to be home. He wanted Thomas. He wanted his mom.

But there was nothing to be done about that.

When April 24th came around, Logan felt absolutely miserable. He was alone. He wanted his mom. He wanted to see his brother. It was Thomas's eighteenth birthday. His mom said eighteenth birthdays were special. It was meant to be special, but now they weren’t even together. He wondered if Thomas was doing okay. Was he at least having a good birthday?

Logan rolled on his side and stared at the empty wall. "Happy birthday," he whispered. The first words he said since being separated. And no one was there to hear them.

On the other side of town, Thomas laid in bed, absolutely miserable. His foster parents asked if he wanted to celebrate his birthday, which was nice, but he declined the offer. He didn't want anything to do with his birthday. This would be the first birthday without his mom's homemade cake. The first birthday without Logan jumping on his bed to wake him up in the morning because "it's your birthday, you gotta be up early!".

He missed them.

He regretted taking those little things for granted. He'd do anything to hear Logan run down the hall and burst through his door, interrupting his sleep. He wanted more than anything to see his mom act like her cake was still a surprise even though he always got the same one for seventeen straight years. But he didn't have that. He was alone.

~~~

Two years.

Logan stayed in the foster care system for two years. During that period, he had been forced to move houses a few times. Not as much as other kids, he was sure, but more than twice was still a lot. Many families were nice. Others not so much. The people that weren’t as nice were the ones that got rid of him the fastest. They told Miss Wilton he was a problem child. He was difficult to deal with.

Well, Logan didn’t know what they expected. He had his family ripped away from him. It wasn’t as if he was going to get over that with their faux generosity. Besides, all he did was not talk. Apparently, adults didn’t like that.

Miss Wilton soon came to realize that Logan wasn’t the problem. Anytime someone complained after her discovery, she would give the foster family a fake sweet smile and apologize on Logan’s behalf, then be on her way with Logan in tow. Logan noticed that she gave a lot of adults fake smiles. Her real smiles she gave to Logan and other kids.

She could also be snarky, so Logan ended up liking her.

The last family she found for him he stayed with the longest. They were more understanding than the others, which was a relief. But those last few months were filled with something a bit more important.

Thomas was trying to get legal guardianship.

It was tough and long, and Logan had never been so impatient in his life. Miss Wilton took him to the final court decision. And he almost cried right then and there. He saw Valerie and Terrence. Familiar faces that he hadn't seen in two years. Faces that followed him through his childhood. He didn't realize how much he missed them.

And then he saw Thomas. They stared at each other with wide, unbelieving eyes. Thomas smiled. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. Logan was reminded of home.

After that, the day was a blur. He remembered it being stressful. Of course it was. Strangers were deciding his future. Adults he didn’t know were choosing if he got to stay with Thomas or not. Putting it that way made it seem so silly. Thomas was his brother. Why shouldn’t they be able to live together? They’ve been together his whole life. It wouldn’t have been fair to come to any other decision.

Thankfully, whatever deity had forced them into this situation decided to side with them that day.

Miss Wilton showed genuine excitement and relief at the brothers being together again. She was happy that their permanent home would be with each other. Because she was happy, Logan knew he should have been happy too, but he just… couldn’t believe it. Not yet. Since the moment Cara left, his entire life had been going downhill. There was no way it would pick up now. He was half convinced the universe would pull a mean trick and he’d be ripped away from Thomas again.

But nothing like that happened. Miss Wilton helped Logan pack his things and took him to Thomas’s place. It was surreal to hear that Thomas had his own apartment. When last they left each other, Thomas hadn’t even begun to consider moving out.

When they got there, Miss Wilton explained some things that Logan tuned out. He caught a snippet about someone coming to check on them sometime soon, and maybe she said something about Logan, but he didn’t pay attention. He was too busy gazing around the room. There were a few things he recognized from the house — the couch, the dining table, the TV, the pictures — and he wondered what else had made it. Logically, he knew not everything could fit in here, but part of him still hoped. He liked being surrounded by familiarity.

Not long after, Miss Wilton said her final goodbye. Logan was sort of sad about it. She had been a constant presence in his life for two whole years. But he assumed her saying goodbye was a good thing. It meant that he had a permanent home to stay in.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Miss Wilton said before she left for good. “But I hope we never see each other again.”

Logan agreed.

She gave him one last, genuine smile. Then she left.

“She seemed nice,” Thomas said after a moment.

It then occurred to Logan that Thomas didn’t spend as much time with her as he did. To respond, Logan simply nodded.

There was a slight twitch of a frown at the nonverbal response, but he masked it with a smile. “Well, come on. Let me show you to your room.”

Logan trailed after him without a word.

Thomas talked for both of them on the short way there. He mentioned how he tried to get as much stuff from the house as possible, but he couldn’t get everything. That didn’t mean he didn’t try, though. “Valerie and Terrence helped out a lot. Oh — and Joan. They’re a co-worker of mine and they live a few apartments down. I’m sure they’d love to meet you — well — after you get settled.” He opened one of the doors.

One of the first things Logan saw almost made him drop his book. Cara’s guitar. It was resting on his bed, waiting for him. Before he rushed over to it, he decided to look around. It was almost like he never had to leave. His posters were on the walls, his little bookcase was there — even his bed sheets were the same. He dropped his book on his nightstand, finally feeling safe enough to let it go, and he opened the guitar case. It looked the same as when he left it.

That’s when reality started to sink in.

This was real. Logan was here with Thomas. He was allowed to stay here. There wouldn’t be any more strangers he had to live with. There wouldn’t be anymore wishing — begging — every night for Thomas to come back like he promised, hoping he hadn’t been forgotten or left behind. This was real. And he was here. Thomas didn’t break his promise at all. He found his way back.

Without realizing it, Logan started crying. He was home. He ran to Thomas and hugged him. They almost crashed to the ground from the sheer force, but Thomas was able to keep them upright. “I missed you,” he said at last. “I missed you so much.”

Thomas hugged him back, holding him close. “I missed you, too.”

~~~

Despite being together, things were still difficult. Money-wise at least. Thomas wondered how the hell his mom ran a house with three people when he had a hard enough time in an apartment with two. She must have been magic. Or maybe Thomas just sucked.

He tried his best, really, but that didn’t make things easier. Sometimes things were difficult to overcome despite a positive attitude. Everything costed money. And that was the worst. He had to pay for food, clothes, gas, rent — and that was just the basics. That didn’t count the school supplies Logan needed, or the phone bills, or the cable bills, or all the other bills that seemed to exist.

There wasn’t ever much spare money lying around. Almost everything Thomas earned went to pay for something. He didn’t have much to save, and that didn’t seem like it would change anytime soon.

He tried not to let Logan know how stressful this all was. The poor kid had been through so much already, he didn’t need to worry about his older brother. He didn’t like to think of it as lying, but he sort of… stretched… the truth. A little bit. Enough to be believable. Logan was a smart kid. He’d figure it out if things started to not add up.

So Thomas never let it get to that point. Did he have to get two jobs? Yes. Was he unable to work anywhere better because he only had a high school diploma? Yes. Did he know that having a higher education would get him a better job? Yes. Was he going to punch the next person in the throat who said that to him? Probably. He wanted to scream that he couldn’t afford to get a dang higher education because he had to raise his brother and put a roof over his head. There wasn’t enough freaking time in the day to earn money and go to school.

But he didn’t do that. He held his tongue and thanked that person for such wonderful advice that a million other people have said before.

People sucked sometimes.

Regardless, Thomas did the same things he always did. He took Logan to school, he went to work, he cooked dinner, he went to work again, then he slept. Interlaced, of course, was paying for things that needed to be paid whenever it was needed. One day, he noticed something. It was a small thing; he would have missed it if he wasn't paying attention.

"Logan, are you having trouble seeing?" They were stopped at a light on their way to Logan's school. It was way early, and he was super tired, but this seemed kind of important.

"Uh…" Logan stopped squinting out the window. "No."

That wasn't believable, but he dropped the subject for the time being. It wasn’t until later that night that he decided to push it.

“Hey, bear,” Thomas called from the kitchen. He grabbed two identical boxes of noodles out of the cupboard. From far enough away, they were hard to tell apart. Thomas sometimes mixed them up at a glance. “What kind of pasta do you want?” He stood at the doorway and presented the boxes.

Logan, who had been sitting cross-legged on the couch doing homework, looked up and immediately grimaced. “Um… the one on the right.”

“Which one is that?”

“Uh —” Thomas could tell he was trying not to squint — “the good one.”

Thomas lowered the boxes with a frown. “You can’t see it, can you?”

“I can see it. Just… it’s a little blurry.”

“How much is a little?”

Logan hesitated, tapping his pencil on his notebook. “I can make out the shapes but I can’t read it.”

Thomas frowned further. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t wanna bother you.” He focused on the papers before him. “You’re always so busy, and I know money gets tight sometimes, so I figured if I didn’t tell you it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about that.” Thomas sat beside him. “I’m the adult here and it’s my responsibility. We have insurance for a reason, you big goof.” He threw his arm around him and pulled him in for a side hug. “Next time something’s wrong or you have a problem, tell me, okay?”

Logan gave him a small smile. “Okay.”

~~~

A new student entered Logan’s grade near the end of the school year. Logan only found out because they shared the same English class. He thought it was unlucky to join a new school so late in the year, but that wasn’t any of his business. Not like the new kid would care about his opinion anyway.

Unfortunately, the teacher decided to sit the new student beside him — even though there were two other seats available. Logan cursed his bad luck and kept his head down. He didn’t want to interact with anyone. Ever. He hadn’t made another friend since Cara left.

Unfortunately again, this kid didn’t care.

“Hey,” he said with a charming smile. “I’m Percival.”

~~~

So clearly Logan was gay.

Who knew.

He found and read different books on different sexualities to try to understand his confusion. He felt most comfortable identifying as gay, but the tiny section on asexuality in one of the books was always in the back of his mind. Okay, so, it was still sort of confusing, but saying he was gay felt like a good fit. At least for now.

When he mentioned it to Thomas off-hand, he said — and Logan swears he’ll never let him live this down — “Oh, shit, me too.”

It caught him so off guard that he laughed until he cried. Never, in his entire life, had he ever heard Thomas curse. And the first time he did was because they talked about being gay. Somehow that seemed very fitting.

But the tiny, little factoid that Logan left out — just a small detail — was that he and Percival were dating. Telling Thomas he was gay? Yeah, sure, easy. Telling Thomas he had a boyfriend? No. Nope. That would be a disaster. He’d probably freak out about it. In more than one way.

So that was his little secret for the time being. Until he was ready.

Well, it turned out the joke was on him because he accidentally let it slip about four months into their relationship. Like a dang fool.

He didn’t mean to. At all. But once it was out he couldn’t take it back. As predicted, Thomas freaked out. He demanded to know the details at the same time he tried to give advice. It was embarrassing and unnecessary and Logan would have preferred to sink into the earth than experience any second of this onslaught. Worst of all, Thomas wanted to meet him.

It wasn’t that he thought Percival wasn’t someone to meet his family — he was very sweet — it was just the thought of Thomas being an embarrassing older brother. Which he was. If he let them anywhere near each other he’d probably end up dying of embarrassment.

So he tried to push it off at first. It wasn’t necessary right now. Wait a little longer. But it turned out that Percival was on Thomas’s side. Logan felt betrayed.

They (well, with great reluctance on Logan’s part) settled on meeting up for lunch on the weekend. Logan insisted that Thomas bring Joan so that he could have someone to talk to in the inevitable event that Thomas started being embarrassing. He knew it would happen no matter how many times Thomas said it wouldn’t.

“Well that was fun,” Percival mentioned after the whole ordeal was over. They were by themselves now, walking through a park to Percival’s house.

Logan rolled his eyes. Predictively, Thomas had an embarrassing older brother moment. Thank God Joan was there to reel him back a bit. “That’s easy for you to say, you don’t live with him.”

Percival laughed. “Still. We should do it again sometime.”

Logan refrained from rolling his eyes again. “I’ll have to think about that.”

Then Percival stopped. He looked down at Logan with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Logan opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t get the chance. Percival ducked down and captured his lips.

He wanted to suck in a sharp breath of air — an automatic response of surprise — but he didn’t. At least, he didn’t think so. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was sudden. A pressure on his mouth he wasn’t familiar with. The new, strange feeling of someone else’s lips. It was like fire, and teasing, and strawberry lemonade. And then it was over.

Percival pulled back, but their lips still brushed together when he whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

His chest fluttered.

~~~

Logan was sixteen when he realized something was… off. He didn’t notice where the feeling was coming from at first. Things between Thomas and him were fine. They weren’t currently struggling for money. All of Thomas’s friends were doing okay. What was left? Why did he have a bad feeling looming over his shoulder?

He wished he could have said that he pieced it together quickly. He wished he could have said he narrowed it down after going through every single option. But he didn't. He… he just didn't.

He didn't even know. It happened so subtly — like a pot heating bit by bit unbeknownst to the poor frog. Except Logan was the frog in this scenario.

He couldn't tell you what the first hint that the water was boiling was. It wasn't as easy as saying, "it started when he did this" because it all seemed okay. Everything was okay. He thought it was at least.

And then, all at once, it was very not okay.

Approaching their first year of being together, Percival wasn't as sweet anymore. Well, he was. But not all the time. Sometimes he said things that were a little too mean. Sometimes he brought up things he knew Logan was insecure about. Sometimes he didn't even seem like the same person.

But it was fine. He always apologized or made it up in some way. And Logan always forgave him. Again. And again. And again.

He felt like an idiot to not notice the pattern.

From there it only escalated. Suddenly, it felt like everything Logan did was criticized. Nothing he did was good enough or worth the effort to look at.

"Anyone can play guitar. It's easy."

Logan was inclined to agree, but coming from someone who didn't know how to play any instrument — let alone a guitar — felt belittling. It completely ignored his years of practice. Still, Logan shoved the guitar in his closet.

"Why does it matter that you won that scholarship?"

He wanted to say that Thomas was proud of him. But he didn't. Thomas was proud of anything that Logan did, though. It must not have been that impressive.

"I hate when you wear that shirt."

He kept it at the bottom of his drawer.

"Remember when you failed that math test?"

He studied every free minute he had.

"Your laugh is annoying."

He tried not to laugh again.

The first time Percival hit him was a surprise. It sort of seemed like an accident, but Logan was never sure. He wasn't sure about a lot. But even Percival seemed a little shocked after he did it. Logan wondered, if he had spoken up then, would it have ended there? Did his silence on the matter convince Percival he could get away with it? He didn't know.

It was almost two years into their relationship. He must have done something wrong.

Logan shuffled into the apartment. The place where Percival hit him the previous day started to appear a lot more visible as throughout school. To add to his bad luck, Thomas wasn't in his room. He tried to slip by but was caught before he made it to the hallway.

“Hey, Logan,” Thomas chirped. “Come here it feels like I haven't seen you all day.”

Logan hesitated. He could say he wasn't feeling well, or straight out refuse to turn around, but that wouldn't work out in the end. He couldn't hide this forever. Taking a deep, silent breath, Logan turned around.

The smile fell right off Thomas's face. “Oh, my God.” He rushed over to Logan. “Oh God, bear, what happened to you?” His hands hovered around Logan's face as if he wasn't quite sure what to do. It made Logan a little nervous.

His hands soon found their place cradling Logan's head. “What happened to your face, Logan?”

The anguished expression of his brother almost made Logan want to tell the truth. Almost. “I, uh, I fell.” That couldn't have been believable.

“Please tell me the truth, bear.” Thomas furrowed his brows in worry. “Unless you fell down some stairs, I don't think your face should look like this.”

Logan pulled himself away. “I-it's nothing. I just fell.”

“Logan —”

“I'm fine, Thomas.” He retreated to his room.

But that statement became less and less true with time. As the injury on his face changed colors to a more noticeable bruise, Logan found himself with others. The new ones were places less obvious and often hidden with articles of clothing.

All the while Logan tried to convince himself everything would be fine. Percival was a knight of the round table — a hero from Arthurian legend. But if that were true… then why did it feel so wrong to be near him? People don't flinch when the hero gets mad. People don't cower when a knight goes to see them. All the fear made Logan miss the talking. It had become subtle insults toward Logan recently, but that was better than fearing another injury.

Logan held on for a few more days. Each day he came home more tired than the last, with Thomas increasing his worry, until one day he couldn't take it.

He hauled himself through the front door. He dropped his backpack on the ground and went straight for Thomas.

Thomas was looking down at some papers but glanced up when he heard the noise. He gasped and dropped everything to be by Logan. “Are you okay?”

Logan wiped his tears and shook his head. “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, bear?” Thomas tried to reach a hand out to Logan but stopped when he flinched. “What happened?”

“Percy, he — he —” Logan wrapped his arms around himself. Sobs were choking him. “I-I didn't want to do it, Thomas. I didn't w-want to. H-he tried to make me. I was scared. I-I ran away — I ran away from him.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I'm sorry. P-please don't be m-mad. I'm sorry.”

Thomas didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to do. God, he was suddenly aware of how young they both were. He didn’t have infinite wisdom or a sense of direction like a parent should. He was barely going to be twenty-one next month. Something terrible must have been going on and Thomas wasn’t equipped to handle it.

“L-Logan, hey.” Thomas kept his hands to himself. “Let’s try to calm down, alright? I’m not mad at you, kiddo, I have nothing to be mad at you for.”

“B-but I —”

“Shh, it’s okay. We can sit down and talk, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

They sat down on the couch together. Logan hugged himself like he would fall apart if he stopped and Thomas tried to get him to breathe properly. It took a bit, but they got there. At least enough to not be so alarming. Then Logan told him everything. He showed him every bruise, mentioned every bitter conversation, and even what transpired today.

“We were just talking,” Logan explained. He was no longer crying, but the effects of it still altered his voice. “Everything was fine. It felt like things had gone back to normal — he was sweet and told me nice things, but apparently, there was an ulterior motive.” He tightened his hands into fists. “He wanted… he wanted to…” He sucked in a breath. “He wanted to do something I didn’t. I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen. I, I didn’t know what else to do so I ran.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? How do you even respond to that? This was his little brother. It wasn’t happening to anyone else, it wasn’t a story he heard about someone, it was happening right here — and it was his brother. He couldn’t imagine Logan going through this that whole time. He didn’t even want to think about what caused him to run all the way home. It was all so… awful. And he felt awful about not saying anything, or noticing sooner, or —

“It’s okay.” This wasn’t about him. It was about Logan. “Sometimes the best thing to do is get out of there as fast as you can. You made a smart decision.”

“It doesn’t feel like one.” Logan curled into himself.

Thomas pushed down the sick feeling in his stomach. “It is. He wasn’t listening to you so you did the only other thing you could think of. You got somewhere safe. It’s okay to run away sometimes, Logan — especially if you’re in danger.”

Logan remained silent.

Oh, Thomas wanted to hug him so bad, but he refrained from doing so.

The next day, Percival knocked on the door and asked to see Logan. Thomas tightened his grip on the doorknob to stop from doing something he’d regret. “He’s not here,” he responded in his usual cheerful tone despite the fact his blood was boiling. “He went down to the library to grab something. Would you like to leave a message?”

Percival smiled politely. “No thanks. I think I’ll just meet him down there.”

“Sure thing.” Thomas resisted the urge to slam the door in his face.

Logan was frozen in the kitchen. The only thing separating him from the front door was a wall. He didn’t dare to even breathe until he saw Thomas in the doorway. Before either of them could think to say anything, Logan’s phone started to ring. He felt his blood run cold.

“Don’t answer it,” Thomas said softly.

He didn’t.

That wasn’t an isolated incident, as it turned out. Percival came back the next day to ask where Logan had been — claimed he was worried because his calls were going unanswered. Thomas handled it with surprising grace, having a believable lie at the ready, but it wasn’t enough. Percival kept calling and when that inevitable day came where Logan had to go back to school, he couldn’t avoid him. And Thomas wasn’t there to help.

Nothing happened besides subtle anger and vague threats. Logan knew that the only thing saving him was being in public. He knew that once school was out, that there would be little time to get away. Percival wasn’t patient. So he sent Thomas a text to pick him up right as school ended. It wasn’t as if he would say no — he was wary to let Logan go to school at all — but Logan was still scared. Thomas was already doing so much for him. He didn’t want to push the limit.

Thomas: I could get you right now

As much as that appealed to Logan, he couldn’t. He was already making Thomas miss work to pick him up after school. Having him pick him up now would just be worse. He declined the offer, insisting he was fine. For now.

Once the final bell rang, Logan was the first one out of the classroom door. He wasn’t normally one to be so eager to leave, but right now he wanted to get home as soon as possible.

A hand grabbed his shoulder once he spotted Thomas’s car. "Leaving so soon?"

Every muscle in Logan's body froze. He let Percival spin him around to see his displeased face.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he continued. "The least you can do is come over so we can catch up on lost time. I was wondering what happened to you."

"I was busy," Logan mumbled. He tried to stand his ground, but Percival was more determined than him.

"Well, you're not now. So come with me. We have a lot to talk about."

Logan couldn't respond. He couldn't move away.

"Hey, Logan!"

Oh, thank Christ.

They turned to see Thomas running up to them. "We gotta help Joan set up their place for Talyn, remember?"

Logan had no idea how Thomas could lie on the spot like that despite hating lying so much.

"But Logan was just saying how he was going to stop by real quick." His fingers dug into Logan's shoulder. "Right?"

"Sorry, but this has to be done by — like — yesterday." He offered his hand out to Logan, who took it gratefully. "Maybe some other time."

Percival relented his hold. "Sure. Some other time."

Thomas flashed him a smile and dragged Logan back to his car.

Before they even got to the apartment, Thomas was already devising a plan to keep Percival far away. First thing first, Logan needed to be transferred to another school. There was no way he was spending another second of forced interaction with his abuser. Second, there needed to be a phone number change.

Logan listened to his near-ranting as they walked up to their apartment. He didn't have any input. What was there to say? This was a sucky situation from all angles.

"You'll have to stay with Valerie until this whole thing blows over."

That caught Logan's attention. Panic hijacked his senses, and words were leaving his mouth before he could stop them. "No! Please don't leave me somewhere. I don't want to be away from you."

"Logan —"

"Please. I, I can't be alone again. I'll do anything. Whatever you want — I'll do it."

"Oh, no, Logan —"

"Don't leave. Please. Please don't leave. How will I know when you'll be back? What if I have to get moved around again? What if you're gone for good this time and I don't see you again?"

"Logan, stop." Thomas cupped his face with his hands. Firm, but gentle. Just to get him to stop his erratic movements and focus on something. "I'm not going to abandon you, okay? I'm…" He studied Logan's face. "Alright. We'll both go to Valerie's. I'll have Joan keep an eye on the place." He wiped Logan's cheeks of the tears he didn't even notice he shed. "I'm not leaving you, bear."

For the first time in several days, Logan hugged Thomas.

~~~

“Well, since you just fell for me you should probably know my name, at least. I’m Patton.”

~~~

Logan was nineteen when he met Patton. He was nineteen when they started dating. And he had never felt… more like a kid. Patton was silly, and kind, and loved dumb puns. Whether he knew it or not, he was helping Logan unlearn everything Percival taught him. It wouldn’t be perfect. There would still be emotional scars that would never heal, but he would be able to function again. He wouldn’t start every day in fear of what would happen. Patton made things okay.

They had been dating for exactly a year when they kissed for the first time.

It was in the evening. Logan was planning on spending the night so they were in Patton’s room (Logan had to answer at least twenty different texts from Thomas to assure him that he was fine and he’d call if anything happened). It felt like sleeping over at Cara’s again; there wasn’t much of a plan to go to sleep, just to have fun. At around midnight, Patton sprung up from his spot on the floor and excitedly claimed to have an idea.

Logan didn’t even get the chance to process what happened before Patton was searching through his closet. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” He pulled a box out and grabbed an even smaller box from within it. “My parents sent this to me before they found out I took in Emile and D. And, well, you know what happened after that.” He took out a globe-like projector and plugged it in before shutting off the lights.

“Patton —” the rest of his words died on his lips when Patton turned it on. Dozens of specks showed up on the ceiling. Like someone took a paintbrush and flung white paint across the room. Then he noticed that some of those specks weren’t random. They were constellations. These were stars.

“That’s a lot better than I thought it would look,” Patton laughed. He sent a grin over to Logan. “What do you think?”

Logan tore his eyes away from the ceiling. He tried to bite back a smile, but he couldn’t help it. “I think it’s wonderful.”

Patton gave him that look again. Like he mattered more than anything in the world. He did it a lot, but Logan still didn’t understand why. He continued to study Logan’s face before asking softly, “Can I kiss you?”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his chest, yet he still nodded. He practically melted when it happened.

It was gentle. A soft presence against his mouth that was different than anything before. The unique, strange feeling of someone else’s lips. It was like fresh chocolate chip cookies, and the Jabberwocky poem, and guessing the names of random dogs on the street. And then it was over.

It took Logan a second to open his eyes again.

Patton was a breath away, his eyes sparkling under the synthetic stars. “Was that too much?” He backed up a fraction more.

Logan pulled him in for another kiss.

~~~

Patton wasn’t supposed to know that Logan could play the guitar. Truth be told, he hadn’t touched it in a while. But he opened his closet to put something away, and there was the case. He didn’t think much about it; it had been in there so long already that he ignored it.

But Patton didn’t.

He spotted it and gasped so loud that Logan felt his heart shoot to his throat.

“I didn’t know you could play guitar!”

Oh crap. Logan glared at the case like it made its presence known on purpose. “Sort of.”

“Can you play something for me? Please?” He brought out his puppy eyes and kind smile. “Just one song.”

“I-I don’t know. I’m really not that good.”

“Normally, I take your word for things, but not for this. I have to hear for myself.”

Logan held back a grimace. Patton was determined. He may drop it now, but he’d bring it up another time, and another until eventually, Logan caved. “Fine.” He grabbed the case, ignoring the pang it sent to his chest at the thin layer of dust. “What do you want to hear?”

Patton resembled a puppy trying to hold in his excitement. “Something simple.”

Sure. Simple. He could do that. He sat beside Patton after taking the guitar out. It looked the same way he remembered. A bit older, and out of tune, but still the same. He almost forgot why he stopped playing it. As he placed his hands over the strings he remembered. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. As his panic rose, he tried to formulate a way to back out, but then he noticed Patton giving him a patient smile.

He couldn’t tell Patton why. That could change everything.

It was just one song. He could do that. He pushed all his fear far, far down and started strumming.

Hey there, Delilah What's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away But, girl, tonight you look so pretty Yes, you do

He kept his head down the whole time. He couldn’t bring himself to look up as he noticed every single mistake he made. He half expected to be stopped when he got to the second verse, but that didn’t happen. Patton didn’t interrupt him or utter a single word. Not until he finished, at least.

“That was so good!” He clapped. “You’re amazing.”

Logan’s cheeks turned hot. “Not really. It’s just a guitar. Anyone can do that.”

“Even if that were true, not everyone can play and sing at the same time.”

Well. Maybe.

Later, after Patton left, Logan saw Thomas sitting on the kitchen counter. “So I heard you serenading Patton earlier,” he muttered with a smirk around his coffee mug.

“Shut up.”

~~~

If someone told Logan that he'd end up marrying Patton, he would have been convinced they were lying. There was no way Patton would stay with him that long. Patton was wonderful, and sweet, and caring, and good, and Logan was just… Logan. There was nothing spectacular about that.

But as it turned out, Patton thought he was the most wonderful thing to grace his presence.

They did get married.

Logan couldn't believe that it happened. He was in disbelief the whole day. It didn't sink in that Patton chose him of all people until that night when they gazed up at the artificial stars on the ceiling. This was real. Patton wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He could have had anyone else but he chose Logan.

And Logan was so glad that he did.

It had been such a long time since he felt this happy.

~~~

The social worker helping them with the adoption process was Mrs. Rachel Hernandez. She was nice. She reminded Logan of Miss Wilton.

Even with the kind assistance of Mrs. Hernandez, Logan was still very nervous. And now for several reasons. The very first and obvious being he wasn't sure he'd be a good dad — actually, that was most of the reasons. Another reason, unrelated to that, was the whole process reminded him of being torn away from his brother. It was silly, he knew, but the connection was still there. Along with all the anxieties it brought.

A lot of these kids were like him; stuck in an unfortunate circumstance that they had no say in. Logan was considered a lucky one. He got to return to his family. These kids were up for adoption because they weren't as lucky. He knew how it felt to lose everything you were familiar with and be thrust into the hands of strangers.

Then one day, after months of waiting, they had a match.

"I understand you were only intending to adopt one child," she started, and Logan wondered for a moment if this was how his first foster family was talked to when the prospect of siblings came up. "But Roman has a twin brother. We'd prefer to keep them together, but if you're adamant about only one then —"

"No," Logan blurted out before he could stop himself.

Mrs. Hernandez and Patton stared at him in wide-eyed shock. He normally kept quiet during these talks unless he had to answer something. And he never rose his voice like that.

His cheeks flushed. "I mean… I would prefer to not separate any siblings."

Mrs. Hernandez turned to Patton for his opinion.

"Uh," he tore his eyes away from Logan. "Yeah. I agree with that sentiment."

After everything had been dealt with, they left the office. But when Patton sat in the driver's seat, he didn't start the car. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "So…" he started casually. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Logan pretended to be interested in the parking lot.

"You know what."

Ugh, it would have been so much better to ignore it. He sighed. "When I was put in foster care, they separated me from Thomas. So I know how it feels to not have your brother with you during one of the most stressful times in your life."

There was a pause. "You never told me that."

Logan shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel any worse for me than you already did."

Patton fumbled for a response, but in the end, he couldn't seem to find one at all.

The day they met Roman and Virgil, Logan was instantly reminded of being at Miss Wilton's side all those years ago. They were hesitant — scared — and didn't say a word. Logan knew better than anybody what they must be feeling.

Maybe that was the real reason they spoke to him first.

"Daddy!" Roman marched into the living room, a tiny scowl on his face. It was a day before their eleventh birthday "Virgil touched my stuff!"

"I did not!" Virgil shouted from the bedroom.

"Then why is it missing?"

"You didn't put it away."

Logan rolled his eyes. They had a habit of yelling across the house to each other. He blamed Patton. "Roman, if you're going to argue with your brother, at least do it in the same room."

Roman huffed and crossed his arms. "My color pencils are missing and I haven't touched them."

"Where did you leave them last?"

"In the room."

Logan stood up. "Let's go look for them, then." He followed Roman back to his bedroom. He still shared with Virgil. They didn't mind it yet, but Logan had a sneaking suspicion it would start soon.

Not even two minutes in the room and Logan found the color pencils. "They're right here."

"Oh." Roman took them with a sheepish grin.

"I told you you didn't put it away." Virgil stuck his tongue out at him. "This is why I'm Daddy's favorite." To emphasize his point, he hugged Logan's side.

Roman gasped dramatically. "No you're not — I am." He dropped his color pencils and rushed to Logan's other side. "Tell him I'm your favorite."

"Well, he's not because I'm his favorite."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"Daddy!" Roman tugged on Logan's shirt. "Which one of us is right?"

"Neither of you. I don't have a favorite." He smirked at their disbelieving pouts. "You're both my little beasties. It's hard to have a favorite when you're tearing up the place all the time."

They took offense to that, blaming each other for the messes they made (together) and insisting that they were the good twin and the favorite because they cleaned up. It was only interrupted by the front door opening.

Roman gasped. "Dad's home."

"I'm gonna ask him who his favorite is." Virgil took off.

"It's gonna be me!" Roman followed after him.

Logan smiled at the commotion they created.

~~~

He sat on the bed with his wedding ring clasped tightly in his hand. Angry, hot tears still rolled down his cheeks and he hated it. He wanted to stop crying. It had been hours — why was he still crying?

He unfurled his fingers. There were indents in his palm from how tight he held his ring. He wanted to throw it. Break it. Do something to it. But he knew he would never bring himself to do anything he thought of. It would only upset him later.

So he put it back on.

It didn't feel right there anymore, but he couldn't bear to lose it.

He let the tears fall even as they turned from angry to distressed. He was an idiot, wasn't he? He should have known this life was too good to be true.

He wasn't destined to have a happy ending.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #thomas sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logicality #sibling prinxiety #relationship abuse tw #toxic relationship tw #attempted rape/non-con mention #anxiety attack tw #berry done au

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Apocrypha Chapter Twelve: Lofty

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twelve: Lofty

Notes: Welcome to the community, Kokox10! I loved reading your comments. It's always to have a new face around here to interact with. I hope that every single one of you had a good week and that you're staying safe. And thank you for continuing to read the story!

(-~-)

The Sparda Express pulled into the station at half past eight am, the cool waters of the bay area glimmering like a mirage in an arid desert. The sands were practically untouched, evening wind shaping them into smooth, wavy rows that perfectly accented the dark surf at the water's edge. It seemed as though the residents of the sleepy beachside town had yet to venture out of their homes, and those that had were at work or school. As an added bonus, their hotel was just across from the boardwalk that bordered the white sands of the seafront, providing them easy access to the shops and their earthly possessions. This was advantageous to the members of the Devil May Cry agency, as it meant that they would attract even less attention than they normally did back home.

Accommodations had been arranged ahead of time by Morrison to help avoid any complications. Things were never simple when you were dealing with such a large group of people. Much to the shock and horror of basically everyone involved, there were enough beds to go around, but only three rooms, meaning that someone would be staying with the children. Nero volunteered almost instantly, all to aware of the fact that Kyire would do so if someone else didn't. That was just who she was as a person. But he hadn't talked her into coming just so she could spend all of her time worrying over the boys. And besides, he had been looking for another opportunity to spend some quality time with the children. It all worked out in the end for the five of them.

Who it didn't work out for was V.

In a decision that surprised literally no one, Dante and Vergil ended up sharing a room. But unlike Lady, Trish, and Nico, who were sharing the remaining room, and Patty, who had booked her own private room that she decided to share with Kyrie at the last minute just because she'd come to enjoy her company on the train ride over, V ended up with two less than ideal choices. He could either stay with Nero… or he could stay with his father and uncle, a choice that carried the added risk of being awoken in the middle of the night by a charged sword fight if they got into a disagreement.

Considering the fact that the accommodations had been taken care of by a third party, no one aside from Patty had considered who they might end up sharing a room with, least of all V. He'd simply agreed to some because he'd never been to the beach before, and he was curious to see what it was like. But, in the end, he decided to go against his sense of self preservation and stay in the room with Dante and Vergil, a choice that seemed to take both twins off guard. They were only sleeping in the same room. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

Yes.

Yes it could.

After taking their bags to their respective rooms and grabbing the necessities that they would need for the foreseeable future, they split into groups to check out different parts of the beach. Nero and Nico headed to the beach, noting that containing the excitement of the children was difficult. It was best to simply go ahead and let them start exploring the water's edge and enjoying the summer sun. Lady, Trish, and Patty absolutely insisted that Kyrie come with them to a local clothing boutique they'd seen on the way into town, noting that she needed something "cute to wear to the beach." The young woman reluctantly agreed, more than likely afraid of what the two devil hunters would try to get her to try on.

But Dante and Vergil were still at the hotel, roaming the lobby. Despite the fact that he had agreed to come to the beach, V had told everyone else to go ahead. Apparently he was still trying to talk himself into leaving the hotel room and actually going to the beach. They had no idea what the conflict could be, but Vergil had opted to stay behind and wait for him, unbeknownst to his oldest son. This was partially due to their agreement to talk on the train, and to help Vergil avoid the concept of actually going to the beach yet. Vergil had spent enough time near the water for his tastes. And as such, Dante had chosen to stay and wait with him. He has obvious motives for doing so, but that went without saying.

"So… what do you think is keeping him," Dante said as he flipped through the magazine that he'd found on the table in front of him. He was reclined in a comfortable lobby chair while Vergil chose to lean against the wall by the window. V was still upstairs in their hotel room, doing who knew what. Everyone else had left a few minutes ago.

Vergil folded his arms, looking out of the corner of his eye at the window. Blue as far as the eye could see. No sand from this angle. Just light water that slowly melded into deeper water and what seemed to be a large rock or small island in the distance; nothing but a speck on the horizon from this distance. He didn't find that as tranquil and enticing as he imagined that most people would.

"It was your decision to stay behind, Dante. No one is forcing you to be here," Vergil said flatly, hoping to halt any plans his younger twin might have of asking that question repeatedly in order to drive him slowly insane," He can't be expected to rush, especially when he has no idea that anyone is waiting for him. He has no compelling reason to hurry."

Dante leaned back slightly and craned his neck to the side, raising his eyebrows in curiosity. He wasn't accustomed to Vergil being this patent. While his twin was admittedly very good at planning and enacting long, drawn out plans, he wasn't normally so good at sitting (or standing) and waiting for long periods of time. Or any period of time, for that matter. Being left along to wander through his subconscious was a bad course of action, more often than not. And the longer the eldest Son of Sparda was forced to wait, the thinner his tolerance grew. Patience was not normally a quality his twin brother possessed as an extension of that fact. But here he was, resisting the urge to go knock on the door and tell V that they were waiting for him. He really was trying, wasn't he?

"Yea, but he might have decided to take a nap or something for all we know," Dante said, turning a page in the periodical he was browsing through. He hadn't found anything super interesting yet. No news of anything demonic in the area. Maybe the residents of the town didn't believe in that sort of thing? "Don't you think you should go check on him or something?"

Vergil shrugged slightly, seemingly indifferent to the suggestion. At the end of the day, he was in no hurry to go anywhere. They would be here for a few days. He felt no reason to rush. He really didn't have anything planned once they reached the waterfront. "When last I checked, your legs were perfectly functional. Why not go ask him yourself?"

Dante shook his head slightly and returned to his magazine. He didn't really have a comeback to that statement. Yea, he was physically capable of doing that. He just didn't feel like doing that at the moment. As far as he was concerned, Vergil had a point on this one. But he was willing to admit that it was still possible that he could be correct, too. He would wait for a few more minutes before heading upstairs to double check what was causing the delay.

A passive silence fell over them both. For once, the silence between them wasn't a result of hostility or bitter feelings, so there was one silver lining to this situation. But either way, Dante hoped that V would come down soon and spare them from the lack of conversation. It was too early in the trip of things to be so uncomfortable. They hadn't even gotten sand where it didn't belong yet!

Off in the distance, the faint sound of a door closing could be heard. Dante subconsciously hoped that his wish had come true while Vergil shot a slow but brief glance in the general direction of the stairs. Neither of them had any idea how many rooms were in this building, especially considering the fact that there were two wings with rooms in them, but that didn't change the fact that it could possibly be V. The youngest Son of Sparda's hopes were dashed a second later as a young woman walked past them, heading out of the building. She proceeded to the checkout counter, paid some sort of fee, and then vacated the building, towing her bags behind her.

The youngest of the two twins flipped through his magazine, checking to see if anything else caught his eye before admitting defeat and casually flinging it across the table. It landed in the center of the table with a soft smack and then folded open again, the wear and overuse it had suffered through clearly leaving a permanent crease in one portion of the thin booklet. Dante almost pitied it in a way. Sometimes he felt like that magazine.

A chance glance in Vergil's general direction revealed that he had slowly migrated closer to the bottom of the steps, rounding the corner that he had been around. Part of him wondered what had motivated him to do so, but he was actually more curious as to why a hotel with five stories didn't have an elevator in it. Yes, it was older and seemed to be retrofitted with newer amenities, but that didn't make it any less of a hassle. Their room was on the third floor. At least it had a bathroom.

Faint footsteps could be heard from throughout the entire building as different patrons went about their business, going to and from their rooms. The soft classical music that played throughout the building lended a relaxing air to the place that you'd expect considering the fact that it was on a waterfront. No one wanted to come here and not relax. That would be stupid. As this thought passed through Dante's mind, another visitor came down the steps, shooting a curious look over their shoulder as they reached the bottom of the steps. Upon seeing the twins, the young man furrowed his brow for a moment before heading towards the buffet area. A knowing look crossed Vergil's face.

"You may get your wish sooner rather than later, brother." Vergil said calmly as he watched the man leave, paying little attention to his twin's reaction.

Dante nodded. "Yea, seems like he was suffering from a serious case of deja vu." He stretched out, making himself comfortable," Or maybe he saw our hair color and just thinks we're old or something. He wouldn't really be wrong."

The comment seemed to incense Vergil, causing him almost serene demeanor to shatter like porcelain in an earthquake. Dante could practically feel him get pissed off at the statement. "I'm not old, Dante. You'd do well to remember that."

Upon hearing his brother's statement, Dante laughed, garnering him an almost ticked off look from his older twin. "Vergil, were twins. If I'm old, you're old. And I'm pretty sure I'm old," He said, shaking his head at the inevitability of their mortality," You have two grown kids. One of them had three kids of their own. Only old people have adult kids, brothers. I'm sorry to break it to ya, but you're old!"

Vergil looked equal parts furious and horrified at his brother's statement. Dante knew that regardless of what his brother felt, that didn't change things. They both knew they were not as young as they had once been. That was just how life worked. But it occurred to him in that moment that maybe Vergil hadn't considered how much of his life he had lost to his time in the underworld until now. The gravity of having spent half his life down there had probably hit him like a brick shithouse. They'd come here to enjoy a relaxing seaside vacation, and he'd given his older twin an existential crisis instead.

Eh, he wasn't upset about it, either.

"I'm... were not having this conversation today." Vergil said, clearly flustered. Dante was lucky that Yamato was nowhere to be seen. That being said, he was sure Vergil had stashed the blade somewhere around himself. It seemed to appear from nowhere half of the time anyway. Their father's old sword was just weird like that sometimes.

"Fine by me… but you're still-" Dante started, barely suppressing the shiteating grin that was threatening to spread across his face. It was good to see that he could still get under his older twin's skin this easy.

"Don't you dare!" Vergil said, his voice slightly elevated, but his tone darker than normal. It was extremely alarming and intimidating. Dante was half sure that his twin was about to whip out his trusty katana and cut him a new one. His older twin took a step towards him, more than likely about to say something when there was a loud thump and a yelp. Vergil pivoted and took a few quick steps to the left without looking, just barely stopping in front of the stairs in time.

Without warning, V came rocketing down the steps. The young summoner had more than likely missed a step, and his misplaced footing had sent him headfirst over the top of the stairs. Vergil caught him under the left arm and right side respectively, sliding back slightly as he braced himself carefully, seemingly noting that, due to his height, not holding him up was probably just as bad as simply letting him hit the floor. V gasped for breath slightly as he hit his father's chest first, knocking his head against his shoulder. If V had been heavier and Vergil less coordinated, the sheer force of impact would have probably sent them both tumbling to the floor. Dante had clambered to his feet during the excitement, heading over towards them. What the hell had just happened?

V took a second to steady himself, rubbing his head slightly as his legs buckled. After a moment, he stood up all the way. He seemed startled and slightly dazed, but otherwise unharmed. Dante walked over to the stairs and picked up the shoulder bad that V had dropped. He was willing to bet that it had thrown him off and caused him to go flying down the stairs. At least he was alright.

"You alright there, mister poetry?" Dante asked as he walked over to him, handing him the bag. He considered shaking him slightly to test this, but decided against it once his self preservation instincts kicked in. "What the hell happened?"

The younger white haired part devil shook his head slightly as if doing so would help him part the clouds in his mind. He accepted his bag from Dante with a grateful nod before turning back to Vergil. It was then that he noticed that he was braced against the older devil hunter, his balance not yet fully returned. It seemed that his equilibrium was still slightly off. V took a step back and swayed slightly, his head swimming and pounding like all the blood had just rushed to it. What was wrong with him?

"... Thank you for catching me. I'm fine now." V said softly, his head still swimming. It was like he was caught in an echo chamber. The sensation was nauseating. "And for my bag, Dante. I appreciate it."

Vergil craned his head to the side, giving him a thinly concealed look of what V identified as concern. Or, at least that's what he thought it was. He couldn't be sure, but that was the reaction that made the most sense to him.

"Your a poor liar," Vergil said with a huff, steadying him by grabbing his forearm. He was trying his level best to look calm and composed, but the eldest Son of Sparda was admittedly still playing over how things could have gone if he hadn't caught him." We decided to wait for you. Can you stand?"

The hint of concern in his father's voice and the way that Vergil had offhandedly asked him if he was alright resonated with him, catching him slightly by surprise. Getting used to Vergil treating him like this was going to take a lot of getting used to. He hoped he wouldn't need to. Constantly being in danger didn't agree with his physical composition.

Where had his demonic blood failed him?

Why did he suffer from such a distinct lack of… durability?

V took a moment to fix the loose white button down shirt that Kyrie had absolutely insisted he wear on this trip when she had surprised him and Nero with them. Apparently she'd wanted to take pictures of them in matching outfits. Despite the fact that he was still wearing loose pants and Nero was wearing knee length shorts, the prospect of a photo opp still gave him hypertension. But Kyrie had asked so…

"I'll be fine. We should go and meet Nero and the others. I'm sure the children have overthrown him by now." V said as he rubbed his shoulder in mild discomfort. He was relatively sure he'd pulled something when Vergil caught him under the arm. It was a fact of life that his bones despised him and possessed the combined durability of a broken light bulb and the rigidity of a dry spaghetti noodle. His physical composition seemed engineered to fail painfully at times, especially when his limbs simply stopped working like his leg had on the stairs. "And I suppose we should have that talk now, shouldn't we?

Vergil nodded slowly, giving him a careful look as Dante headed towards the front door. He could tell they needed a moment, so giving them some space had been a no brainier.

"Yes, I believe that might be the right course of action. Come then." Vergil said as he stepped past him. He paused for a moment, turning back towards V," Ah yes… I almost forgot."

With that, he snagged V's bag and turned back towards the door, walking a few steps before stopping. He seemed to be waiting for him. V took the hint and followed after them both, flabbergasted. It seemed that there was some unwritten rule stating that he was not permitted to carry bags while in his father's company. He wasn't sure how he felt about that yet, to be honest.

(-~-)

Thanks for reading this chapter! I'm happy today I finished it on Monday at 6:20 am! I'm not glad that I'm up this late, per say. I'm just glad that I'll be finished with Friday's chapter come Thursday morning! Being on schedule for once is a nice feeling. Have a safe week and I'll see you again on Friday!

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Justice League Annual #1 (1987)

Martian Manhunter has five thousand different super powers compared with the one super power of the rest of the team (Black Canary's sonic scream. The other "super powers" are just technological accessory based).

If this comic book isn't about Martian Manhunter's addiction to Oreo cookies then what am I even doing with my life? The only reason I love Martian Manhunter is that he loves Oreo cookies and I view him as the father I never had. Whenever I had a problem growing up, I would think, "What advice would Martian Manhunter give me?" And that's why I was so fat in Junior High School because the answer was always "Eat more Oreos." I know Martian Manhunter's eventual addiction is to "Choco's" but fuck Choco's. Fuck them like every other off-brand Oreo cookie. They fucking suck. Speaking of things that suck, this dick isn't going to suck itself. Now picture me pointing at the comic book because I need to read it. That's how I begin reading all of my comic books. And I say it loudly so the neighbors will think, "Oh boy! That guy next door isn't a nerd at all! Total sex maniac!" The "Hunting the Manhunter" blurb on this cover reminds me that Millennium is coming up and I think I hated that? No, no. I'm sure I loved it! There are two things I couldn't get enough of in my teen years and comic books was the second one of them. Kord Industries has bought some property in the middle of Ultra-Nowhere, South America, and some of its employees have gone off to scout the location.

Wasn't that the episode with the shape-changing hottie who loves sucking the salt out of men? You know what I'm talking about. Also she was probably a male monster posing as a female monster. Proof of that theory is that every single episode of the first season of the original Star Trek could also have been the name of a gay bar.

Inside the abandoned research facility, the Kord employees encounter pretty much the same thing Kirk, Spock, and the other one encountered:

Vampire John Travolta! It's possible I'm misremembering the Star Trek episode.

While on monitor duty, Guy Gardner discovers that large groups of people on four different continents seem to be under the control of a single will and Batman asks Martian Manhunter, "Do you think this is League business?" What the fuck else would be, Bat-Turd?! A new Internet fad like planking or the Harlem Shuffle? I mean, it totally could be that except that the Internet doesn't really exist during this story. I mean if you want to be a pedant about it, I suppose the teenage Internet across college campuses. But nobody likes a pedant so just shut the fuck up and live in my reality while you're reading my stupid comic book review. Just take the fucking Red Pill and relax! Except don't do that because the idea of The Matrix Red Pill has been co-opted by the worst of humanity who think they're somehow the most logical and philosophical people on the planet when they're really just awful monsters rationalizing all of their mean desires.

How did people come away from reading this comic book hating Guy Gardner and not also despising Batman?

The Justice League splits up into teams of two to cover the mass hypnosis issues in Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, and Los Angeles. I'm not sure Batman knows how to balance teams because he sends Doctor Fate and Martian Manhunter together while leaving Mister Miracle with Blue Beetle. Here are my teams: Guy Gardner with Blue Beetle because Blue Beetle is effectively worthless and Guy Gardner has the most powerful weapon in the universe. Batman would go with Black Canary because her sonic scream is sort of like a bat's echo location. Martian Manhunter would go with Scott Free because they're both aliens. And Booster Gold would team up with Doctor Fate because their outfits match. Blue Beetle and Mister Miracle head to L.A. with some, um, problematic dialogue? I think?

This is an "anal sex/everybody in Hollywood is gay" joke, right?

With newer comic books, a scan of 620 pixels (basically the width of the main column of the blog (although I think the width changed when I added the Goodreads app. I should probably fix it so the 620 pixel pictures stop bleeding off into the right-hand frame (if you're reading this on Tumblr, just ignore it. Just ignore everything since Tumblr fucked up their code and now I can't even center pictures or get the captions to sit snugly right up underneath the scans))) was usually enough to read the dialogue clearly. But with these old comics on newsprint, they're fuzzier and the font seems much smaller. Sorry about that but I won't betray my artistic integrity by scanning less than the full panel! At least not in this case is my defense against the pedants who can easily find many examples of me doing exactly that. First Black Canary is treated like shit by Batman and now she teams up with Booster Gold who can't stop hitting on her until she reminds him she's a competent limb-breaker. This must be the kind of comics Comicsgaters wish we could return to! "Remember when women were treated as sexual objects and not one member of the Justice League was Black and constantly said, 'Booyah!'? What great times!" Black Canary and Booster Gold become John Travolta Vampire slaves almost immediately because Batman chose the improper team pairings. It's bad enough that Batman would fail at making proper pairings but it's extra bad when Batman is being written by a writer and the writer made that choice. I mean, how do you pass up the opportunity to team Booster Gold with Doctor Fate?! They would look so fucking good together! Batman and Guy Gardner (you know how you can tell Hal Jordan is the real Green Lantern? Because people will say "Green Lantern" when discussing him instead of "Hal Jordan") wind up in Tokyo where Doctor Light is all, "Hello, boys! I'm a vampire now!" Then she blinds the fuck out of them because Batman forgot to put on his Bat-sunglasses.

Batman steals this move from Doctor Light in the next regular issue.

Doctor Light kisses Batman and he's all, "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Okay. I get it. Being a vampire is pretty awesome. No wonder writers write vampire versions of me every other year or so."

I don't think the editors briefed Willingham on what Beetle's Bug can and can't do.

Beetle lands at Kord West and is immediately swamped by John Travolta Vampire's thralls. So he does the thing he does in nearly every comic book except the one where Maxwell Lord shoots him in the head: he runs away. But he doesn't run fast enough and winds up possessed aboard the Bug with Mister Miracle. The story hints that Miracle gets possessed just after the scene changes but he's Scott Free, the world's greatest escape artist! I would guess he'd be the one to save everybody else but judging from the cover, it's Martian Manhunter who keeps from getting possessed. In Australia, Doctor Fate wades into a group of infected people because he's a gigantic arrogant prick. He's all, "I'm a frickin' Lord of Order, assholes! I know a spell that can get to the root of this problem!" And then the Vampire John Travolta is all, "I'll kill Kent Nelson if you don't leave his body." And Doctor Fate is all, "Well, J'onn, I've gotta go! Nice hanging out with you! Ta ta!" Which leaves Martian Manhunter as the only person left on Earth who isn't infected (or at least the only person left who is in this story). I bet that's pretty lonely. But Martian Manhunter is used to being lonely. I wonder if he's capable of making his right hand into a female martian so he can fuck it? Martian Manhunter has no idea what he's dealing with so he puts on Doctor Fate's helmet to gain all of the other powers that he didn't already have without it. But only for a few seconds because Superman would never be able to get an erection again if he found out Martian Manhunter had all of his powers and could also do magic. J'onn wears the helmet just long enough to learn what Doctor Fate learned about the contagion: it's a sentient cell! It's smart cancer! And I guess Vampire John Travolta was Patient Zero. Now J'onn just has to figure out how to fight Smart Cancer. I don't even know how he'll defeat it because I just looked up Smart Cancer in the Who's Who to read about its weaknesses and wouldn't you know it? There's no entry for Smart Cancer! Maybe it was in an update that I don't own. Like that version of Who's Who that was just loose pages to stick in a binder! I have that one too but it's possible I just didn't buy all of the expansion packs. Martian Manhunter heads to the source of the contagion to meet Smart Cancer head on. What he finds is a boss from Castlevania.

When you have thousands of people at your disposal, is the most effective way to use them shoving them together into one giant person?

The first thing Smart Cancer's Granfaloon does is try to smash J'onn with its people fist. In effect, it's smashing a dozen people head first into the ground so that dirt sprays up all over the place. So I guess a dozen or so people are now dead, right? It's not like Smart Cancer gave them invulnerability to massive head wounds.

I think this panel is the one where all the Justice League editors through their hands up in resignation and sighed, "I guess the Justice League is ridiculous now."

Martian Manhunter realizes, like me, how fucking stupid Smart Cancer is to put all of its people in one gigantic people-shaped basket. Since all the minds are linked, he realizes he can throw the Fate helmet on one of the people and Doctor Fate can possess Smart Cancer. It works but only for a limited amount of time. Doctor Fate can't hold that many people under his sway. But Doctor Fate does know who can control Smart Cancer: the martian! He can shapeshift his cells into some kind of prison or something. I don't know. It was explained in the most basic medical and scientific terms but they were still beyond my attention span. In the end, Martian Manhunter contained the Smart Cancer in him and that's where it lives now? Oh, and speaking of "the end," check out this clever and titillating final panel:

"Why's it gotta be the ass of the only woman on the team?" I say while pulling my pants down.

Justice League Annual #1 Rating: What?! I don't rate annuals! I mean, maybe sometimes I rate annuals. This one was okay. It was sort of interesting but I was disappointed that Vampire John Travolta wasn't the actual enemy. I hope Smart Cancer fights its way out of J'onn and makes another appearance later.

#Justice League #DC Comics #DC #Keith Giffen #J.M. DeMatteis #Bill Willingham

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

Bringing Home Kobik - 4

Bringing Home Kobik: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

Word Count: 1827

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut on the series (M|M, oral, anal), the aftermath of torture, PTSD, mentions of child abuse

Synopsis: When Bucky decides to try to get legal custody of Kobik he meets resistance due to him being a single man. Clint steps up as a co-parent to help with the process.

Art by @bexlie-draws

Chapter 4

Moving into the new apartment went about as well as to be expected. Bucky and Clint’s tastes weren’t too drastically different. Bucky had more personal stuff considering he’d collected it over a smaller amount of time. Clint had less new things. It was like Bucky had rebuilt his life recently and was trying to surround himself with things that reminded him how far he’d come, whereas Clint had a few personal items he had refused to let go off and had gotten nothing else since.

There had been arguments about which couch got kept. Clint was adamant they keep his ugly flea bitten brown one. Bucky had a much nicer, black leather three seater with matching recliners. The argument that had ensued had attracted the attention of a couple of random agents as they walked past. They’d ended up going to get Steve because they were worried about Bucky and Clint killing each other. In the end, the ugly brown couch was framed by two newer black recliners and Bucky’s couch ended up in his room.

Bucky and Clint’s wall decorations all blended pretty seamlessly. Bucky liked Clint’s tendency to decorate with photos of the people he loved, so he’d just gone and reframed the photos and added some of his own. They’d ended up with a wall with pictures all covering it and some random spaces for photos of Kobik when she arrived and started settling in.

Clint’s bow hung on the wall by the door. There were bookshelves with a mixture of their books and knick-knacks though neither of them particularly owned that many of the latter. Bucky’s X-Box sat on top of Clint’s PlayStation. They had both thought they should just round out the consoles and gone and bought a Nintendo Switch. Their rooms were just how they wanted them. Bucky’s in dark colors and neat while Clint’s had somehow gotten that ‘lived in’ feel within a day of moving in.

There was a lot of talk about what should happen with Kobik’s room. Should they wait until she got here? Should they have it ready so she had somewhere nice right away? In the end, they’d settled on halfway between the two. Bucky knew her best so he had the room painted in a pale blue and bought wall stickers ranging from woodland creatures to space. He put them aside for Kobik to put up how she wanted. He bought a lot of books. Kobik loved to be read to and he loved reading to her. He filled a bookshelf with kids books he’d bought at a second-hand bookstore. He bought a quilt and sheet set in a similar pale blue as the walls but decorated in clouds and a white princess bed. He also bought toys. Not many. Just enough so she had things to do. A small table with art supplies like paper, crayons, paints, and Play-Doh. A few plush toys. A box of Lego. He wanted to take her shopping again when she settled in, even though he knew she could just create the things she wanted. He was determined she knew she could rely on other people too.

Once everything was ready and they were settled into a slightly uneasy routine a social worker organized to come by and evaluate them. She arrived at three in the afternoon with a briefcase and a clipboard wearing a sharply cut skirt suit and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

“Ms. Anders,” Bucky said offering her his hand when he opened the door. “I’m James Barnes and this is my… uh… partner… Clint Barton.”

“Partner? You’re not married?” Anders asked.

Bucky froze blinking. He was sure they had known the exact situation this was and being faced with the fact that they thought he and Clint were an actual couple he didn’t know what to do.

Clint sidled up beside him and offered Anders his hand. “Well, you know. We thought about it, but we aren’t really great at doing the whole ‘everyone staring at us’ thing.”

“Really? But you’re Avengers” Anders asked shaking his hand.

When she released his hand Clint moved his palm against Bucky’s and linked their fingers. Bucky looked down at their hands and back up to Clint’s face still in a blank state of shock. Clint nodded at him and Bucky closed his hand around Clint’s.

“Yeah, but Stark and Cap do all the talking. We’re just background.” Clint added. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Bucky blinked at him. “Yeah. Uh - Right. I don’t love the limelight.”

“Come in,” Clint said indicating into the apartment. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee. Soda? We might have tea.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Anders replied coming into the apartment and looking around. “I must say the whole raising a child at the Avengers compound is throwing me.”

“Well, I guess it’s like being raised on a military base, right? Lots of kids do that.” Clint countered. “Only this is a little more stable because we don’t have to move every couple of years.”

Anders walked around the apartment ticking things off. She paused at the wall of photos and looked them over. “You are confident this is a safe environment for such a small child? The Avengers Tower seemed to attract danger.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened in Clint’s hand and Clint tapped out a random pattern on the back of his hand. “Let me be honest with you,” Bucky said. “This world we live in, it’s a mess. But she’s also not a normal little girl. She’s the most powerful being in the universe and she could rewrite the world to fit her exact desires. She needs to have as normal an upbringing as possible. She needs to be a kid. To be able to learn and play and just be. But she also needs to be somewhere where people are best equipped to deal with her on the days that aren’t good. And that’s here. With us. I love that little girl like she’s my own. I want to adopt her and give her a normal life. I’m also not deluded about what’s at stake here.”

Anders gave a small nod and scribbled something else on her clipboard. “Do you have a room set up for her?”

“Yeah, right through here,” Clint said, heading toward her bedroom. Bucky and Clint showed her around the rest of the apartment. Bucky’s room was explained away as a spare room. They showed her the yard they’d set up with a jungle gym and sandpit. They walked her out to the edge of the forest with Lucky on their heels to see how much space she had to explore. They took her for a brief tour of the facility so she could see what happened there. They talked about schools and parenting strategies. Moral philosophies and cooking. When they made their way back to their apartment Bucky was holding Clint’s hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Anders sat at the kitchen table flicking through her notes as Clint stroked the back of Bucky’s hand in soothing circles. “I’m going, to be honest with you Sergeant Barnes, Mister Barton…”

“Agent.” Clint corrected her.

“Sorry what?” Anders asked.

“Agent Barton. I have a title too.” Clint said.

She shook her head and tapped her pen on the clipboard while Bucky glared daggers at Clint. “Right, sorry. Agent Barton.” She said. “I can see you care for each other and you do want what is best for Kobik,”

Bucky stopped breathing and the sound of his pulse in his ears seemed to drown everything else out. His fingers tightened so hard on Clint’s fingers the archer made an involuntary whimpering sound.

“If it was any other child I’d be extremely hesitant about green-lighting this adoption. You aren’t married. You both have dangerous careers. You are both ex-criminals.”

Bucky let go of Clint’s hand for the first time since he’d taken it and jumped to his feet and started pacing. “Hey now, we… we’ve made right for that.” Clint protested.

“You are both ex-criminals.” She repeated. “You live in a compound that attracts attack. I would either reject it outright or at least visit several more times to makes sure you were taking the safety concerns seriously.”

Bucky turned to face the wall trying to keep himself together. All he was hearing right now was it wasn’t happening. All the work they’d put in and that little girl was going to be for nothing. Kobik was going to be raised in a government facility until they successfully reprogrammed her into the weapon they want her to be, they’d turned her back into the cubes or she’d torn the world apart to stop it from hurting her.

Clint reached up and took Bucky’s hand again. He tapped his fingers on the back of Bucky’s hand and Bucky turned and looked down at him. Their blue eyes met and Clint gave him a small smile and nodded in the direction of Anders.

Anders cleared her throat. “But you’re right, Sergeant Barnes. She’s not a normal little girl. Her physical safety isn’t the issue. It’s her emotional one. She is most likely better off here with the two of you loving and guiding her given your pasts, than anyone else. I am going to approve this.”

“Oh, thank god!” Bucky sighed. Clint got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as the much larger man melted into him. “She’s coming home.” He whispered.

Clint smiled leaning his cheek against Bucky’s head. “Yeah, she is.”

Anders packed her papers into her briefcase and stood. “We will check in regularly, particularly to begin with. You understand that?”

“Yes, of course,” Bucky said, letting Clint go and shaking Anders’ hand vigorously. “We won’t let you down.”

“It’s not us you should be worried about. It’s her.” She said.

“Right, yes,” Bucky said, nodding and following her out to her car.

“I’ll send the paperwork through. She should be here within the next couple of weeks.” Anders said and got into her car.

When the woman pulled away Bucky turned to Clint grinning. “We did it!” He said hugging the man again.

“We sure did, buddy,” Clint said squeezing Bucky tightly. “Think you might have broken my hand though. And I use that. A lot.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said quietly. “I just -” He pulled back and looked down at Clint.

Clint shook his head smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Clint. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Bucky said. The urge to kiss him had taken hold and he smothered it down. “I - I think I might go work out.”

“Sure. Maybe we can have a celebration later? I’ll call Tony.” Clint offered.

Bucky nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.” He said striding away. Clint was definitely a problem. Now he just needed to figure out how he was going to address it.

// NEXT

#bucky barnes #clint barton #hawkeye #the winter soldier #winterhawk #bucky barnes x clint barton #winterhawk fanfic #hawkeye fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #bringing home kobik

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asterlizard · 5 years

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UK trip summer 2019

(Argh! I’m sorry for the delay! I meant to finish this back in June, but I haven’t had much time to finally get around to it)

I haven’t been to the UK in 3 years, and while the feelings were admittedly mixed, because it involved a lot of cleaning up and donations of my grandparents’ items, I did get to have a bit of fun and do some new things on this trip.

Our flight would leave in the middle of the day, but we still had to wake up early so that we could arrive at the airport, do airport security, and get to our boarding gate in plenty of time.

This started off by waking up at around 7:00 in order to meet a Lyft driver (for a first time rideshare, Uber failed to find someone for us) who would take us to a bus stop, which would take us directly to the airport.

As we were arriving at SFO, I could have sworn I saw some beehives in a patch of grass between the weaving roads. However, researching it doesn’t seem to bring up anything. Hmm...

I was looking forward to eating pizza at the selection of restaurants before the security checkout, but unfortunately it was closed, and all of the other restaurants seemed to have been replaced. So the only thing that appealed to me then was Chinese food. It was pretty tasty though.

The entertainment on the flight was a little different than what I’m used to (then again I haven’t flown in a few years). They had more limited music options, and the only decade available was the 80s. I could also zoom in anywhere on the map, which is a horrible distraction for someone like me :P Also, the food was pretty tasty, especially the mango sorbet, which was the definite winner for me :P

Cool view of Alcatraz just before we flew past it

I witnessed an airplane halo, also known as a ‘glory’!

Since we travelled light, we didn’t have to wait to collect our luggage afterwards. We also breezed through the passport check, since we’re British citizens.

I like this mirror effect, but the distortion made it extra cool

At this point, it was 7 in the morning, and we had to meet up with a family friend who lives in London, where we would stay at overnight before progressing to our destination. Along the way I saw some students using the Tube to get to school (it was a school day after all). This was kinda interesting as someone who grew up in America and never had to wear a school uniform.

We actually had to meet our friend by walking from the nearest Tube station to her house (which is fine, I don’t mind walking! Especially after a 9 hour flight). Not long after we met up, she showed me this little fox sleeping outside her window (I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in person before!) It likes to do this when the sun is out. Unfortunately for it, it was sleeping next to a couple of squawking magpies.

We then went on a short walk along the canal. There we saw a swan family and a coot family (and babies!!)

We would then head over to the British Museum. Our friend told us in advance that it would be hosting a manga exhibit, and we arrived the day after it debuted. Just before heading over, she brings up that the Rosetta Stone was also there. I didn’t anticipate this, because I thought it was held in a different museum. So I was getting more excited to see the Rosetta Stone over seeing the manga exhibit xD (I joked that I was about to meet my ‘rock star’)

It was about ￡20 to enter the exhibit, so only I went, while our friend and mum explored the rest of the museum. The exhibit started off with a ‘trip down the rabbit hole’, in reference to perhaps the most influential British work in Japanese media, Alice in Wonderland, and its appearances in manga over the years.

Then it showed the history of manga, manga influences, a brief manga how-to, and genres of manga. I saw some familiar works, like Astro Boy, DragonBall, Sailor Moon, a work from the creator of Akira, One Piece, Golden Kamui, Saint Young Men, etc. I also saw some works that I've never encountered that I'm interested in (a rugby manga, a wheelchair rugby manga coming soon, a murder mystery manga at the British museum, a manga about a saxophonist)

There were also some video exhibits, whether it's clips from anime next to their respective manga, creators/staff talking about their creative process, artists drawing their manga, or a series of clips from Ghibli films, but you weren't allowed to take pics of these.

At one point, I even saw an Attack on Titan cosplayer! (ready to take down the giant inflatable titan head I presume)

It’s difficult to read, but this is Morohoshi Daijiro, and it says that Hayao Miyazaki was strongly influenced by him. I’ll have to look at his stuff sometime.

I probably spent about two hours in there, longer than I expected. Admittedly I was tired, and my legs were getting sore, and a little over half an hour before I was done I needed a loo. I was feeling all sorts of physically gross at this point, and I had no idea how much of the exhibit I was actually absorbing even though I tried.

Before the end of the exhibit, I waited in line to get a photo taken, so the machine would add a comic-like gradient to it and insert it into a comic panel. Once I was done, I made a beeline to the nearest loo (for a split moment I panicked that they would be the ‘pay-to-use’ loos, and I didn’t have any money on me, as all of my stuff was with mum, thankfully it wasn’t).

After meeting back with mum and our friend, we headed back to our friend’s home, as I was feeling too exhausted to do anything else.

By the way, I did get to see the Rosetta Stone, but I would need to see it again when I’m not jet-lagged and there’s less people. By the way, I also learned that the figures on the pediment over the British Museum were created by my ancestor, so... y’know, there’s another reason to revisit the place.

I finally went to bed after some dinner, dessert, and a refreshing shower. I had been awake for about 32 hours!

The next day, mum and I stocked up on food (most of which I missed after a long time of not eating them. I still wish I could eat them more often!) and travelled by train to our destination.

The train also was different than what I’m used to. The livery is different, and instead of there being a ticket(?) on the top of an occupied seat, there was a red/green light above the window that indicated whether the seat was occupied or not.

At some point our passenger neighbours were cracking up and couldn’t stop laughing, which was contagious enough for me and a few other strangers to laugh. It was a great moment. When we arrived, we met up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, and we had fish and chips and a good chat.

The day after we arrived, we already got started with clearing my grandparents’ house. At this point, I already made peace with the fact that we would need to sell the place (nobody in the family wanted it, plus it needed a lot of work done to it, which would have been pretty costly). Unfortunately, because they had a lot of things, we had to be a bit ruthless with what we had to get rid of, because we certainly couldn’t keep it all. I also let go of a few things I grew up with that I was willing to part with and donate. Still there were several items we were able to keep and bring home with us. Thankfully mum’s friends also would try and keep other things for us. It was still a bit of a heartbreaking process though.

I also finally (after a long time) had a 99! It feels good to walk into an ice cream shop and order one, and they'll know what you're talking about :P

Speaking of food, according to my friend, it’s apparently a crime that I haven’t been to a Gregg’s yet, so I tried some of their food, which were delicious! Unfortunately, they didn’t have an iced split, which my friend has, and is apparently really good. (I love international chats, because my friend can say something like 'try a 99 with monkey blood', and it will make no sense to non-Brits) Even the berries are tastier here! idk if it’s because we’re closer to berry farms, but they’re sweeter and juicier than the ones I get back in America.

Speaking of which, the shops in town are different than what I remember. Only a few places I visit regularly remained.

I also got to see a circus for the first time. Although the acts were amazing, my favourite part of the show, believe it or not, were the clown segments. They consisted of a father and 10-year son duo, and the antics were amusing (the duo trying to run and hug each other but missing and in the end hug ‘around’ each other instead, the father getting an audience member to throw a potato onto a carving fork held in his mouth and epically missing, the father getting some audience members to ride an invisible motorbike with him, etc) Unfortunately the show did have some strobe lights and animal segments (even if they weren’t hurting them, I still don’t see the appeal of watching wild animals doing unnatural things :/ )

One of the things that hadn’t changed was our local cobbler still being in business. Even before the trip, mum wanted to pay him a visit so that he could repair her shoes. He's one of the last relics of the old town, he's 78, and has worked for 57 years including 7 years as an apprentice. He was even one of mum’s first memories from when she was small! There’s something charming about a town shoe shop having several piles of stuff, topped with a huge pile of shoes and the smell of glue and shoe polish while a shoe repair motor runs in the background :)

The local bookshop owner also had a charming shop, with piles of books everywhere. And yes, it’s so small and narrow, only one person at a time can visit. We visited his place a few times to donate most of my grandparents’ books, as well as old items like maps and photographs. We can breathe a sigh of relief that they will be protected and given a new home.

Went for a 2.5 hour walk, first along the beach, then through a newer and more secluded area of town that I’ve never visited before (I ALMOST saw a robin, I’ve only seen the American robin in person)

At one point after shopping, I was holding a leek in my hand, and a lady passing by quipped to me, “I know we’re Welsh, but that’s a bit excessive” :P

Also, idk what made me think of it, but I imagined, instead of dog shows, there would be snail shows. It would last for hours, walking the snail would last for 10 minutes instead of 10 seconds, and the awards would be something like: 'Largest Snail', 'Fastest Snail', 'Hungriest Snail', 'Perkiest Snail', 'Longest Antennae'...

>:U

(I took quite a few panorama shots during this trip)

Unfortunately, a pathway I like to take was closed off

We visited some friends of ours, and some friends of ours visited us. My family and I also did a little burial ceremony for my grandparents (originally mum wanted to buy sweet pea flowers, as they were my grandmother’s favourite. I then ask if my grandfather had a favourite flower. Mum didn’t really know, but she did remember he would always buy my grandmother a rose because he loved her so much. So we bought a red rose as well (afterwards I learned from a friend that sweet pea flowers are a symbol of protection and goodbyes, which is INCREDIBLY SWEET BUT SAD 😭))

The next day we had miserable weather due to Storm Miguel. It was surprisingly the only bad day we had weather-wise. And yet, for some reason mum and I decided to eat out at an Indian restaurant (the food was pretty tasty)

During most of the trip, my family have been fervently trying to research who the people in my grandparents’ paintings were and how they were connected to my family. The only thing I got out of it so far is that my family might be more Scottish that I thought!

Went shopping in Carmarthen (and crossed a bridge next to some sheep, close enough to hear them), but I had to make a train that arrived half an hour after I woke up! Ate at Pizza Express (the food was tasty, but the strawberry still lemonade was PERFECT) Unfortunately we had to cut our shopping time short, because our earliest trains to catch were at around 14:30 and 17:30, and we would rather get back home as soon as possible. We were able to get most of what we wanted though.

One day while I was hanging out with my younger cousin (we chatted a lot during the trip, he does Irish dancing, and he taught me the difference between the different dances), he introduced a couple of fun games that the family got to play: Camping, and Spoons

Camping: Preferably played with 3 or more people It's a rotation game in which the rest of the group has to figure out what the leader's pattern is Starting with the leader, each person says 'I'm gonna go camping, and I'm gonna bring...' and then a noun. When the leader says their phrase and noun, they have an unspoken pattern they decided to follow, whether it's a bit of subtle body language they make while saying it, or if it has to do with the nouns themselves. The next person then says the phrase and a noun in hopes that they will follow the pattern. If they do, the leader will respond to their phrase, 'you can come', otherwise 'you can't come'. After the pattern is revealed, the next person becomes the leader, and the cycle continues. Players are allowed to guess the pattern depending on how many people got it (eg: you are allowed to ask for hints if stumped, and if everybody gets it, the pattern can be revealed) In hard mode, if your attempt is part of the pattern, regardless of whether you know the pattern or not, you have to sit out the rest of the game. (examples of patterns: saying whatever while having both feet on the floor and hands on lap, dog breeds, alphabetical succession between players (eg: 'hedgehog', 'iodine', 'Jamaica'...), the nouns have to begin with the same letter as your eye colour (lol I never got this one because I don't regularly make eye contact with people), the noun has to begin with the same letter as the cardinal direction you're facing, the noun has to begin with the same letter as the colour shirt the player after you is wearing)

Spoons: Preferably played with 3-13 people It's a game of speed, similar to musical chairs There are n-1 spoons in the middle of the table for n number of players and n number of ranks One player becomes the leader, in which they shuffle the cards and deal four per player. When the leader says 'go', every player including the leader removes a card and places it for the person to their left to grab, while each player must always end up with four cards per 'go' (when saying 'go', the key is that there shouldn't be much time for thinking, the game must move quickly, but there should be about a second or two to organize your cards if needs be, so roughly every 3-5 seconds per 'go') If a player has four of one rank, they must grab a spoon, and all of the other players must grab a remaining spoon as quickly as possible, in the hopes that they won't be the last player without a spoon A player that ends up without a spoon loses a life, and after three lives are up, they're out of the game. With this, a spoon and a group of four of a rank also sit out of the game When it's down to two players, one of the players sitting out must shuffle the remaining deck, so that the two remaining players don't know what kind of deck to expect, and say 'go'

Went for a lovely walk near the beach

Tiny friends!

Ah yes, this bed of rocks looks comfortable to sit on...

I also got to finally try a 99 with monkey blood, though the syrup isn’t called monkey blood where I’m from apparently. Mum and I also tried to feed the sparrows, but larger birds were lurking and wanted to sabotage the efforts.

After some final decisions on what to bring and what to keep, mum and I left the house for what might have been the last time. We will miss it though. I did take some videos of the place not long before we arrived, as a kind of snapshot of the place, not only for memory, but for a potential reference in one of my stories.

At the airport, I got a pat down for the first time in my life because I had worn the wrong trousers that had more metallic fixings on them >:[

During the flight, I chose a better selection of films on the plane:

旅猫リポート: Cute but kinda sad film about the life of the man who adopted a cat and why he has to give it away to someone he can trust.

Christopher Robin: Very charming film, and the British wildlife scenery was depicted beautifully

Wonder Woman: Well-written film

(I’m curious to know where this is near London)

Overall, this trip was different than what I’m used to, not just because it was less of a family visit, but rather a lot of aspects of what I’m used to have changed a lot over the years. I’m hoping, even if I never live in that house anymore, that I can still pay the town a visit somehow in the future, as it’s still a dear place to me that I had grown up with all my life.

#my posts #my photos #sorry this post is a little more disorganized than before #1) it's been a while since I wrote a travel post #2) tumblr kept undoing my progress several times which was aggravating #I might do a part 2 post with photos from my proper camera #the photos in this post are all from my mobile

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jboofan · 5 years

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Kim Heechul - Like a Fan 1

Kim Heechul is a womaniser. First and foremost. He’s the life of the party, but still manages to make you feel like you’re the only woman in the room. He’ll make you laugh...then whisper something naughty in your ear and turn your knees to butter. But his charms fall short of Lucy Yan's expectations of men. When this man, who has so many women to choose from, who can have —and has had—the most beautiful and seductive women, chooses Lucy, she isn’t the only one surprised. He is, too.

Lucy took a look at one of the main producers of Men on a Mission for reiteration. It was the first time she'd been to Korea alone, and management was eager to place her on the most popular variety shows to get noticed by the public.

"They are male comedians playing high school students, welcoming star 'transfer students' every week and engaging in battles of witty humour and slapstick," he explained looking back at your management for support.

"You know some of the others, the Sisters on a mission that have come on our New Year's Day shows," he smiled as she nodded in agreement. She'd met them last year very briefly, her cousin was on the cast and had put in a good word.

Lucy diligently arrived earlier than the studio had asked her to come along; they often kept guests of the show in a separate smaller greenroom so the cast and audience were genuinely surprised when that front door to the MOAM High School opened and the cameras caught the initial reaction to that week's special guests.

"You nervous?" asked one of her newer friends, comedienne Jin-Young Hong smiling across the make up table.

"She's going to be great!" Mi-Sun, the captain of their team on the show squeezed Lucy's shoulder in approval as she passed her school blazer to her.

"Course she is," Sol-Bi smiled softly, sitting down beside you, today she had her hair coloured a deeper mahogany just for the show. And maybe for a certain Kyung-Hoon too.

Hye-Ryun a smaller, but solidly built woman cackled loudly, "have you got your questions ready?" she peered over from her green tea, gargling loudly before she sagely advised, "direct them at who you would like to sit next to."

"I think so," Lucy cleared her throat unable to remember what questions she'd planned with the producers two weeks prior.

"Long as she doesn't go near Heechul I don't mind," giggled Chae Kyung, a newer member booked to temporarily replace another one of the team.

"No need to be a bitch about it," Sol-Bi bit back defensively.

She'd heard about him very briefly; with a show featuring a former gambler, another formerly known for being bankrupt, an ex-basketball player, retired wrestler and two others trying to kick start fledging careers; he was the one who seemed to have all the misfortune to gamble, throw away money, date rigourously and all with a blatant disregard for everyone and everything. But this show had somehow managed to spearhead his singing and acting and Korea had once again fallen in love with Kim Hee-Chul. Sol-Bi had showed Lucy a brief clip of him from the first show; bleached pink hair, a twinkle in his eye and a flirty smile for his victims as she called them.

"I'm not," Chae justified, apologising, stars in her eyes, "I'm just excited to meet Kim Hee-Chul, Man God; he's too damn hot. I was so jealous of you Mi-Sun!" she fanned herself still squealing.

The comic show had paired up the 32 modern day rake and the 53 year old stand up in an old/young love affair, the jokes following were plenty and hilarious and Chae hoped she could be his partner this time around. And if she played her cards right she might land a date with the korean cassanova.

The studio audience cheered as the first of the cast opened the faux door to the classroom. Sang Min entered first, adjusting his thick rimmed glasses, the stark white-cream lights flooding the studio as fellow friend and cast mate Soo-geun came in, bobbling his way to the second from last row to the right. Hand shaking Sang Min's across the horizontally set up mock classroom, soon followed Hee-Chul and Kyung-Hoon. Female cheers went up instantly as they took their seats and waved past the lights to the show's fans, grinning and lapping up the love.

"Dude, why didn't you pick up your phone last night?" Kyung-Hoon whispered as Jang-Hoon and Yeong-cheol moved away to have their microphones fitted.

Hee-Chul blew out his permy hair like a shaggy dog, "I got busy. Sorry dude." He smiled sweetly knowing his friend wouldn't continue to chastise him.

"Busy? We were all meeting for dinner? You coulda called me at least? Dong was pissed, it took Jang-Hoon ages to calm him down. Leave the women for one night and actually show up asshole," he flicked his arm playfully, "if only that head of yours had some sense," he silenced before an assistant adjusted his mike giving Hee-Chul the opportunity to flee.

Kang-ho Dong, Korean national treasure looked over at Kyung-Hoon chastising Hee-Chun about last night.

"You know we have to do something about him," he adjusted his cap as Soo-geun agreed.

Even prior to their employment Dong had heard shocking tales of the rakish Kim Hee-Chul. They'd worked together on other shows, and Dong had even had Kim on his show with his now disbanded group Senior Junior or through his recording company. Dong, like the others had been at first amazed and then amused to note that whenever the media had presented Hee-Chul (usually with a woman on his arm) stumbling out of an up-and-coming restaurant, or a famous night club he'd laughed aloud, enjoying Kim's rather scandalous notoriety.

But Kim was pushing the limits of propriety. Kim was a good guy. But he was selfish and attention hungry. Dong could remember several occasions from the past several weeks where the rest of the team had complained that their friend should stop missing team dinners, sleeping through cast production meetings, arriving late to the studios in last night's clothes or embarrassing himself in public — to stop being such a cassanova and think about growing up and giving up his wayward, often alcohol induced schenanigans.

The extraordinarily lanky Jang-Hoon stifled a chuckle as Dong looked up, squishing his nose upward as though he'd smelled something rather unpleasant.

"It's not that we have anything against him having fun, he's young and we did that as youngsters too but he's embarrassing us now. He's embarrassing our show."

Jang-Hoon knew his friend, and that Dong prided himself on having built his career carefully and thoughtfully and Hee-Chul threatened that right now.

"Why do I get the feeling you've done something?" Jang-Hoon suppressed a laugh.

Dong's big squishy fat face grinned as he told them in not so many words that he was determined to come up with something to help Kim. He just hadn't figured out what yet.

The women stood behind one another, high school uniforms on, all except Ms. Park Mi-Sun, donning her black matronly two peice cardigan and skirt, counting down to walking into the set.

She waited until she was the last one out, nervously pulling on her back pack's shoulder strap, the runner counting down to when Mi-Sun would yank aside the door and the team minus herself would walk in and stand behind the famous teacher's podium.

Lucy took a deep breath, secretly happy to be the last one out, this show was very popular and she had to put her best foot forward. If only she could remember to walk and breathe at the same time.

Harsh yellow lights blinded as they honed in on her caused her to momentarily screw her eyes closed, tripping slightly over herself as she bumper into Sol-Bi, forcing her eyes open. Lucy couldn't help but grin at the welcoming environment as they gasped and hollered appreciating her joining the guests.

Mi-Sun bowed as their male counterparts clapped and yelled out their hello's, many silencing to bow in polite greeting to their newest addition.

"Choesin hagsaeng lusi yang-eul hwan-yeong haejusibsio!" [Please welcome our newest student Lucy Yang!]

Taiwanese born, reared in America and now somehow in South Korea Lucy gulped nervously, trying her best to remember in her broken Korean how to greet these people.

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Sol-Bi's reassuring hand found hers and quietly whispered words of encouragement to her. "It's ok, don't forget to breathe," Sol-Bi nodded small, she knew how nervous Lucy got, especially at speaking Korean; a language she was still learning and struggled to contend with at times.

"Thank you for your warm welcome, I'm Lucy Yang, please take the time to get to know me," she nodded solemnly and then grinned catching the big smile that Soo-geun and Sang-Min gave her, instantly helping her to relax. Jin-Young Hong and Dong were giggling and throwing up thumbs to each other before they sat down. Across from them it didn't escape her when Sol-Bi shyly fluttered her lashes at Kyung-Hoon who bashfully moved a seat across to allow her to sit beside him.

"You coloured your hair red again," he shyly managed as she giggled their knees accidentally touching.

Hye-Ryun hugged her fellow shorty Soo-geun, the two engaging in a little dance before he held out her chair as they caught up, the two stand up comics in their element spouting off one lines to Sang-Min behind them.

Mi-Sun today chose to sit beside Yeong-cheol, instantly she was taking the piss out of him, him grinning back toothily to her as the jokes about their last skit began, the audience in stitches.

Lucy stepped back taking in the show and couldn't help feeling excited. Who would she sit next to? Would the audience find her funny? She wasn't a native, would they get her humour? Chae instinctively moved forward to take the podium, her questions at the ready; Hee-Chul firmly in her sights.

"Heechul, please pay attention to my questions," she giggled as Heechul turned to face the right way, nodding as he was called to attention.

"Of course." His eyes took in Lucy as she sat down next to Jang-Hoon as Chae started her Guess This questions.

It didn't take long for Chae to be seated next to Heechul, she'd gone out of her way to make sure that she only heard his answers, and at one point the others stopped answering so her questions would finish quickly, nudging him playfully and flicking her pigtails hehind her. Even faster than Lucy had prepared for because before she knew it, it was her part of the show and her palms were sweating.

"Lucy, you look so nervous!" hollered Dong loudly, almost frightening her with his foghorn voice.

"You stupid bat, she's going to turn and run!" Jang Hoon laughed apologetically, as Mi-Sun shot him a dirty look and Dong stood theatrically and bowed.

"Hi, I'm Lucy Yang from, from, ahem," she stammered, tongue dry all these people staring at her.

"Don't mind the fatso, he does that to everyone," Sang-Min reassured her and she was back in her element.

Dong was about to apologise again, but looked at her again as she gave a thousand watt smile and everyone was hooked. He was slowly beginnimg to understand why the producers had been so quick to ask her to set. Despite her quiet, almost shy introduction she seemed to come out of her cocoon so suddenly he and the other men had stood to attention.

Dong smirked as he looked over at a bashful Kyong-hoon who also watched her curiously; Heechul also unable to take his eyes off her. From the limited information he knew about their guest, she was American educated with an already famous brother. With her warm complexion, relaxed stance and almost siren like laughter to something Yeong-cheol asked she melted into her usual self as she answered him.

"I'm Lucy Yang, a new transfer student from Heartbreak High School, I look forward to getting to know who, you I mean. Sorry." She brought her hand to her face embarrassed.

"Your Korean is very good. Clean and clear annuciation," he applauded her, "you're doing great."

"You are too, very kind," she corrected herself, fanning herself nervously.

"We don't have a transfer application for you," Dong noticed turning to face Soo-geun.

"But you do have lovely dimples when you smile," someone mentioned out loud.

Lucy looked for the voice's owner. She gasped. Her spine stiffened, and she looked away. Even on TV it was most ungentlemanly to speak so openly about a woman's features, or so she had been learned about Korea. It was not like the west where you could just kiss a woman in the streets. There was something almost formal about the South East of Asia that was refreshingly different.

Lucy eventually looked up to see the prince of debauchery as he now stood framing the speaker's podium right next to her. She sucked in her breath as she gazed at one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. He was quite taller than she imagined, and although slender was broad of shoulder, easily dwarfing Chae. His dark black brown hair fell in a deep wave over one brow. He was still covered with the glow of the lights, which, together with the mischievous gleam in his brown eyes and his boyish grin, gave him an appearance more youthful than his thirty-two years. He had relinquished his school blazer to his chair along with his bright red cap, and though he looked slightly ruffled from the wardrobe change, he nevertheless appeared quite appealing with that crisp white shirt of impeccable cut, and bright red trainers. His tie was simply tied and hung low, having rebelliously left his collar undone. Although he obviously had great fashion sense, perhaps even an excellent tailor, his dress style spoke more of comfort than of high fashion. Lucy stared openly at this man of whom she had heard so many tales; someone who indulges in the sensual pleasures, but would not really take advantage. He'd been known to not do anything intentionally harmful to another; was suave, smart, witty. A man with friends, a love of the good life and the wherewithal to enjoy it. A man who is hard for a woman to pin down. But every woman would still like to try. And most women on this show had definitely tried.

Oh, yes she told herself —Kim Heechul was no doubt handsome enough for a modern day rake to rival George Clooney or Bradley Cooper even Prince Harry but there was also a certain boyishness, a handsomeness about him which was most appealing.

"You already have a partner," she replied in a soft, chilly voice.

"The heart remembers what the head has tried to erase," he flirted back just as quickly, referring to him having answered Chae's questions and landing her as a partner.

Lucy bit back a smile as she considered that there were probably hundreds or even thousands of women who would be even more objectionable than herself to someone like him—idols, dancers, actresses, anyone with a pulse according to Sol-Bi; but she kept her tongue between her teeth about the last one.

Dong and the others watched the exchange, Heechul spoke formally with those he didn't know or women he wanted to keep at arm's length but the way he was so informal with Lucy had him thinking Heechul either knew her or most likely wanted to.

It had been Dong's hope when Heechul had first joined the show that after getting to know him thought that he would be able to act as a matchmaker and find Heechul some nice woman in Seoul with whom he could settle down. Unfortunately eligible bachelorettes who weren't after his fame and fortune did not abound in Seoul. Even so, Lucy had from the first shown a strong disinclination for such maneuvers, and Heechul was still laying it on thickly trying to answer her questions or ask deeply personal ones of his own, on air. The ex-wrestler had sensed her discomfort and barked loudly enough to have Heechul cease to continue.

"Heechul," Dong suddenly declared, everyone turning to face him, "Enough."

That's all it took for Heechul to stop, too the relief of his partner. He turned, threw up his hands in mock defeat, and looked back and really noticed the size of Lucy's presence on stage. He hesitated a brief instant as his eyes caught hers, full of amusement but with a hint of caution. He turned to The Captain Dong with a defiant look then back to Lucy.

"I should be allowed to answer Lucy's questions no?" he was inciting trouble but it wasn't in his nature to care about consequences.

"You already have a partner," Kyong-hoon diplomatically reminded him, "let one of the others have a go."

"But if I answer them all correctly, I at least get a kiss don't I? Those are the rules."

He was speaking so fast that Lucy was having trouble following the conversation and only caught the part about Heechul being able to give guesses.

Sang Min chuckled to himself, "you're walking a thin line there son." Divorced for nearly twenty years, he knew more than anyone what the boundary was with a lady.

Lucy waited for the awkward moment to pass and then rapped her cards to bring eveyone to attention.

"Sang Min and Jang Hoon, please do your best," she flirted back at the remaining cast members much to the annoyance of Heechul. No woman ever ignored him, much less wanted to and she was doing it with a smile on her face.

This woman is intriguing. And I'm determined to have her.

#kim hee chul #kim heechul x reader #kim heechul #heechul x reader #heechul x oc #knowing bros #men on a mission

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rosepenwarrior · 6 years

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A story of a single heart (testimony)

Prologue:

I was crowned "PRINCESS OF LOVE" twice in my life. The first one was when I was only 5 years old! It was at a some sort of pageant for kids in our barangay. While the second time that I got crowned was during our Hearts Day event at our church back in 2013. I was only 19 years old that time. I find it both strange and amazing, because I did not plan or expect to get crowned in the two times that I did. Like the first time was completely my parent's doing, entering me in the competition in the first place. I can't even remember the whole thing. The second was also a complete surprise! A little game was played to pick out the winner. We had to randomly pick a piece of paper that was actually half a heart. I can't remember the other details but apparently I got the winning piece. It's actually hilarious because I was the one who was put in charge to prepare the crown and flowers for whoever will win the title. Who knew that it was going to be for me? Anyway, I'm sharing this because it's quite amazing, right? I've only realized this recently, and I was honestly mind blown.

Grace to you reader! I have decided after much consideration to share the story of a single heart; with that single heart being my very own. I’ve also decided to use the term “single heart” instead of “single” or “singleness;” terms that I just find too used, because every time I hear it there’s this “poor you” or “poor me” kind of feeling that is somehow attached to it. Therefore, I decided to use a newer, more positive name for it.

Furthermore, I’m also writing this because I am entering a wedding season. A long one to be exact. It’s because my beloved sisters in Christ and some of my cousins are all engaged/about to be engaged, and are all lined up to be united in marriage. It’s honestly going to be one or two wedding a year starting this year! To add to that, I am also already booked as a maid of honor for two of those weddings (dream come true!), and hopefully a bridesmaid to the rest! If not, then to be a guest is as much of a privilege, too.

As the result of the wedding season starting also comes the rise of fascination and solicitude over people like me---single hearts. Mind you, I’ve been prayed for, interviewed, comforted, encouraged, etc. I appreciate every gesture though I find it quite amusing sometimes. Anyway, so that’s why I’m also going to try and address in this article some of the common questions and concerns thrown at me; hopefully, it would be an encouragement to all who reads this. Let’s start!

Past

I would like to begin with some stories from the past. Particularly back when I was not yet a born-again (referring to the biblical experience and not the denomination) believer. I want you to have an idea of how I was when it came to relationships. I have to warn you though that some of the things I’m going to share are a bit cringe-worthy. Two words, naïve and Christless.

I WAS OBSESSED WITH HAVING CRUSHES.

I had my first crush when I was only around 7 to 8 years old. His name was Hua Ze Lei from Meteor Garden (a popular Taiwanese drama). I can actually still see myself literally crying over the guy because I wanted to marry him so bad. It will also surprise you how many crush I had from that point up until high school.

Fast forward to high school, my first crush during my freshman year was a tennis player. I would ask one of my friends to stay with me after school to secretly watch him practice. It was my favorite time of the day!

There was also a time where I had a very silly brief fling with a foreign exchange student during our sophomore year. I even payed one of my friend 100 pesos for him to call that foreign student and make him talk to us. And boy did it worked! We became friends, we saw each other after class (in a group setting), and then when he left we still communicated over skype. Next thing I know, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes but left him in the air a few days after. There was no formal breakup, I just never went online again. It was because I got scared of the concept of being in a relationship. I didn’t want commitment; I just wanted the butterflies. But I am now very sorry of what I did to him, he was really a nice and sweet guy. I will never forget the time when he played for me a beautiful piece on the piano. I appreciate it more now than I did before.

The little rendezvous with that foreign student was not the worst thing I did. The worst was the time, out of my pure stupidity, I gave a handwritten letter consisting of a poem of confession to a guy that I had a crush on during my junior year. He was a senior and I was an idiot. The letter I made was so colorful and perfumed that it will shame every unicorns alive. My sister even pleaded with me not to give it but I still did. My friends supported me wholeheartedly, but I don’t blame them because we were all at the same level of foolishness back then. I cringe so badly to this day every time I remember it! I hope he burned it into ashes by now!

You might now be asking why on earth I acted that way to my crushes; well, I honestly wanted to show them that I cared. Even though I affirm that it was not love nor a proper affection but I really did care; even if it was at a very shallow and petty level. I cried over them, wished them well every day, and just really cared about them. Just to be clear though, I never went near any of them. I liked them but I’ve always preferred to like them from afar. When they start to get too close, I would literally freak out and just not want it anymore. They were my crush, but the moment they try to step out from that boundary I consider them as intruders. Besides, I was not that naïve to not realize that they only paid attention to me because they found out that I had a crush on them. Years after, I would find out that the reason for it was God’s preservation over me. If it weren’t for God’s preservation, I can only imagine what would’ve become of me if one of those pretty boys were successful to close in on me.

Present

Of course from the past we move on to the present. In this portion I’m going to share more of thoughts rather than memories. Let’s get into it!

I WENT THROUGH A PHASE OF HAVING NO INTEREST AT ALL.

When I became a believer I entered this completely opposite phase. From being obsessed with having crushes to absolutely growing apathetic at the whole idea of it. A shroud of indifference wrapped around me, and it came almost instantly. I got sober and just not interested anymore. I went through my college years having no crush at all. Although I still experienced admirations for a few, but it was never the same hype nor nature as it was back in my younger years. It was more of a “wow, they’re really good at what they’re doing,” rather than “I don’t know why but I just want to like him,” kind of admiration. Honestly, I did not go through any counseling, self-realization or had an experience other than my conversion that would have changed my heart about this issue. Come on, we all know how hard and how long it takes to break a habit but this particular one vanished like smoke.

In addition, I immediately learned of the “do not be unequally yoked” command, and I was more than willing to be committed to it. In fact, I was so committed that I did not only want to be unequally yoked but I also did not want to be yoked at all. I saw brothers in Christ and brothers alone. There was not even much effort from my part, it came naturally and I was not at all bothered by it. I never even mentioned it in prayer for the first few years of my walk in Christ.

THE DESIRE DID COME

The desire came gradually and inevitably. It came not because I finally started to like someone, but because I have grown in my understanding of love and marriage according to the bible. My favorite truth about marriage is that it is a picture of Jesus Christ’s relationship with His redeemed people (Ephesians 5:22-33). As a result, I’ve become more open to the idea of getting married but then again it is still too high of an endeavor for me to tackle full time. What I mean by that is if you ask me now if I want to get married, I’ll definitely say yes! But my answer will be limited to a yes. Simply because I am still growing in my understanding of marriage like in every other aspects of Christian life. And my progress, as I see it, is still in its very early stages. In other words, I desire to get married but I don’t know how to get married.

Besides, I’ve also understood that marriage is a gift just like singleness, and we all know that we are given different gifts according to God’s good purpose (1 Corinthians 7:6). No matter what happens, every saint is a bride---the bride of Christ (Isaiah 54:5). Likewise, every saint is entitled, in Christ, to fully experience love and marriage with or without a ring on their finger.

Lastly, I want to add that desiring marriage doesn’t automatically indicate discontentment. It’s unfair to think that single hearts are discontent when we desire marriage. But if desiring marriage creates in us a sense of discontentment then that’s where we need to slow down. Nonetheless, here’s little friendly advice to every concerned non-single people out there; it’s normal for us, single hearts, to desire marriage but please slow down with the assumption that we are either discontent or extremely lonely when we do so. Most of the time that is not the case. Also, don’t feel called by God to marry us off, as soon as you can, the moment you find out that we desire marriage. Don’t worry, we’ll survive. Blessed singleness, remember?

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL

I’ve never thought that desiring marriage can get so complicated that there are days where it gets so close at ripping my mind apart. There are too many things to consider! From checking of motives, setting of standards, to anticipating and surrendering. Hard work, people! Hard work!

Let’s first talk about motives. Well, this is the main battle ground. One article is simply not enough to share to you how much God has dealt with me in the motive section. One thing I have learned that pretty much summarizes everything is the conviction that Jesus Christ ought to be the source, means, and end of everything---from our thoughts, words, works, endeavors, and desires; such as the desire to get married. If the end is not Christ then it is no prize, and if Christ is not the end then He is surely not the source nor the means also. That biblical principle is what God has been guiding me with in purifying my motives. Easier said than done, trust me. Thank God for His grace!

Furthermore, I highly recommend self-interrogation or introspection, whatever you may call it (Psalm 19:14). I do it all the time, but we need to make sure that we do it prayerfully and under the light of God’s word! Or else it might do more harm than good. One question that I always ask myself is why I want to get married. It’s so easy to answer, “For God’s glory!” or those other godly responses. While it can indeed be our genuine desire to obey and honor God with marriage, if we slide into complacency and lack vigilance, we might not notice selfish intentions creeping in. One good indicator is when we get impatient (I’m so guilty at this!). Desiring to honor God with marriage means we are willing to wait as He unfolds His will as to whether marriage is for us or not. Another red flag in our motives is when we grow to feel “incomplete,” (guilty again!) as if we need a husband to be to us and do to us what only God can be to us and do to us.

Consequently, we shouldn’t despair if our motives don’t change or get cleared up overnight or even months after. Sanctification requires a daily battle. Instead of feeling defeated, take it as an opportunity to put on the whole armor of God and go deeper in prayer. Alan Redpath once said that the conversion of a soul is a miracle of the moment, but the manufacture of a saint is a task of a life time (Philippians 1:6).

Now after motives, let’s move on over to standards! It’s actually funny because I was completely clueless at the beginning as to what kind of man I would prefer. It’s because I never really had a standard until I got saved. By the way, I am talking about a personal preference kind of standard because the scripture has already given some solid ones that everyone should apply. One is that the man or woman must be saved. As for my personal preferences (as guided by scriptures), I desire a godly man with similar convictions with mine. Like I want to know his heart for God, his convictions about marriage, family, ministry, etc. Then see how well we will meet both in similarities and differences. These are the things that really matter to me; Faith, convictions and then character. When it comes to character I never did decide upon it beforehand; I just honestly discovered by experience what kind of character attracts me. I’ve found out that I’m quite drawn to manly guys. The type that has a strong stance yet gentle in manner; a hint of humor won’t hurt, too! I also blush over a man who is a leader, humble, knows how to speak, goes deep and just really manly. I’m not a fan of men who takes too much time getting ready. I don’t know but I really have a thing for men that are manly and looks manly. Also someone who will be able to dance with my thoughts; that kind of man will be a dream come true.

Now that you have an idea of what I look for in a man, I also want to share the reality of my insecurities. I think it’s only fair to say that having such high standards doesn’t imply that I consider myself as someone who will fit the same kind of standard. I confess that ever since I’ve never been an ideal or a likeable material nor have I ever felt like one. Maybe because I grew up seeing girls around me getting liked and pursued; while I, on the other hand, was the girl that everyone seeks out for an advice or help in matters of courtship and relationship (I’m honestly pretty good at it!). That experience made me get used to the idea that I’m simply not a girl that someone will sincerely look at and see something special. I’m not trying to be humble, I’m just saying it as it is. I know God is working in me to deal with this issue, but as of the present I still can’t convince myself that I can be someone’s wife. Anyway, I don’t want to elaborate further about this anymore. I just want to share that a part of a single heart’s story is the reality of our insecurities.

To summarize my little story sharing, I want to emphasize important points. First is that we can still see a reflection of the past in our present. It can be for the good but it can also be for no good. I pray that all of us will be granted the wisdom to know the difference. Second, be honest with yourself and be honest with God. Pour your heart out to Him, tell Him everything even if He already knows it. Then let Him answer you through His word. Let Him teach you, cleanse you, and lead you. Lastly, remember that Christ alone ought to be the source, means, and end; being guided by this goal/principle will bring into light every false motive, it will set straight every decision, and it will purify every desire. Remember that if the end is not Christ then it is no true prize.

I’ve also included a link to one of my written out loud series (spoken word) entitled, “Dear You.” Please feel free to listen to it. I pray it will also be an encouragement! Thank you for reading and listening (if you did)!

The end.

-apG

Soli Deo Gloria

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#Blessed singleness #single hearts #Everything is for Christ #testimony #christian living #relationships #spoken #spoken word #poet

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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[created by: vyvyan86]

If someone's laughing, do you instantly think they're laughing at you? I mean, not automatically? People can be laughing for many reasons. But if they’re laughing near me and if I even catch them looking at me from time to time, then it can definitely make me feel paranoid.

What is the strangest thing you've been asked? I’ve said this before, but a masseuse who came to the house a couple of years ago once looked at me intently and asked if I’ve gotten pregnant before. When I asked my mom about her, she explained that that particular masseuse has a third eye. Of course I didn’t buy it, but it was a fascinating scenario nonetheless and I still liked the fact that out of everyone in the family, she had only ~sensed something with me.

What’s the weirdest thing about life that people just accept as normal? Homelessness.

What was your favorite game as a child? I liked playing Diner Dash, Insaniquarium, and Cake Mania on my dad’s laptop. Our parents didn’t keep a strict eye on us as well and we were allowed access to Grand Theft Auto games at a young age, which ended up being one of my all-time favorite video game series.

What’s the stupidest thing you've ever heard? There’s a lot of crazy fake news that have come out over the last few years; I can’t really tell which one is stupidest, but they all are to some extent.

What's the most random thing you've done out of boredom? Make spreadsheets about stuff I will never have to refer to. It’s a great way to be distracted/occupied, so I don’t shy away from starting one whenever I feel the need to.

What show did your parents not let you watch as a kid? Mr. Bean. My mom didn’t like the character’s antics and she especially hated how he technically doesn’t talk, since she felt like it would have an effect on how we learned language (we mainly learned English from the TV) and the way we speak.

What is your personal catchphrase? I say, “Awesome!” when I’m pleased with something, which is a habit I picked up from Gabie. I also tend to say “For real?” whenever I’m surprised.

What is the most pleasurable feeling that doesn't involve anything sexual? I like being given lazy scratches on my wrist or leg. It’s also nice when someone plays with my hair, but it depends on who’s doing it; sometimes I’ll find it too invasive.

What was your 'Oops, wrong person' moment? This doesn’t happen a lot to me, fortunately. For the most part, it’s only been instances from childhood when I mistakenly held on to a stranger’s hand instead of either of my parents’.

What do you find attractive that isn't considered 'normal' attraction? I’m not particularly attracted to muscles or fit bodies in general; a little bit of flab or what the internet calls ~dad bod~ has always been more than alright with me.

What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk? Nearly fall asleep in a swimming pool, or go on a loud rant about someone while that someone was still within earshot.

What's your proudest moment in the bathroom? I have no idea what this means, and I don’t want to ask.

What’s something you own that gets you lots of compliments? Some clothes/shoes I have. Also, my car back when I placed reindeer antlers and a red nose on it a few Christmases ago haha.

If money was no object, where would you want to live? If that was the case, I’d be in New York City right now.

Who is your favorite mythological character? I never took a liking to mythology and the creatures associated with it.

What's something that's happened which couldn't happen at a worse time? My breakup. We were also recently informed that my mom has been retrenched sooooooo life isn’t particularly dandy at the moment. I’ve stopped complaining about my heavy daily workload and have instead felt grateful for it, because at least it keeps me occupied enough and not think about the stuff happening at home.

What is the best pickup line you've ever heard? I don’t like pickup lines.

What did aging ruin for you? My back and my eyesight.

What is the most hilarious thing you’ve ever heard? Ugh, questions like these are impossible to answer. Off the top of my head, I’ll go with this video.

What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? Crime scene photos, beheading videos, and corpses. There have also been other stuff but they’d be too triggering if I tried to describe what they are.

What's something you really enjoy, but can't have? I can’t have milkshakes unless I’m fine with the stomachaches I will inevitably get after.

What Wikipedia article have you recently read? So I watched Royal Rumble yesterday (I haven’t kept up with wrestling in years, but I always come back for the big pay-per-views) and there’s this female wrestlerI think I’ll soon develop a full-blown crush on. I wanted to look her up and I learned that she’s Rhea Ripley, so I briefly read up on her life and career.

What's a book you were made to read in school that you really liked? Without Seeing the Dawn will always be my favorite. Taking it up in English class was never a chore for me. Number the Stars was a great read too, as was Dekada ‘70.

What objective did you fail to complete this week? I haven’t worked out at all this week, which I should’ve been able to do twice already according to the workout plan I’m currently subscribed to. But it’s fine, I’ll just try to catch up.

What could have gotten worse for you but it didn't? Work. I kept making a million mistakes during my first two months and thought I’d never get the hang of it, and I was just waiting to get fired immediately lol. But everything’s going smoothly now - I’m not as lost as I used to be, and I’ve even taken to tutoring some of the newer hires.

What subject should be taught at schools, but isn't? I’d have appreciated it if we had been taught or at least briefed on how to obtain crucial government IDs and documents. I didn’t exactly enjoy walking through everything by myself and being expected to know what to do.

What is the best thing about having a Significant Other? Oh my god, everything. I loved and treasured being in a relationship. I appreciated even the arguments because it made me get better at communicating, know how and when to apologize, and how to be more in tune with another person’s feelings. But my favorite part about it would probably be having a person to share everything about yourself and your life to. I’ve learned to be okay being by myself, but I feel the loneliness the hardest when I’m going through a rough patch and remembering that I no longer having someone to turn to.

What makes you unusually uncomfortable? Injections, blood tests, anaesthesia, anything that’s meant to prick my skin.

What is an upcoming purchase you're excited about? I don’t plan on making any purchases soon. Maybe a couple boxes of macarons with 25 pieces each for my birthday to treat myself?? but that’s the only one I’ve been planning.

What is the worst game you've ever played? When I was still taking PE, I dreaded it every time we had to play basketball or water polo.

What’s the oddest thing you like to do? I really like doing tedious tasks, like inputting things into a spreadsheet or writing out lists. I think I’d be a great secretary. < Yeah same. Literally what I said earlier about the spreadsheets.

What's the funniest news story you've seen in the past few weeks? Some fixers at the LTO who approached the mayor of a nearby city to convince him that they can fast-track whatever business he’s in for there, not knowing he’s the fucking mayor. What a mess lmfao.

What do you really really want right now? For things to go back to normal. My parents are very secretive about finances - probably because they don’t want us to worry - but I hate not knowing if I could even turn on the fan or any of our lights anymore. I also hate that I feel guilty whenever I buy things for myself knowing that both my parents are in sticky situations.

What do you hide from people? Things going on in my personal life. I will refer to my problems in social media posts occasionally, but would never provide enough context for people to know more about my life than I’m comfortable with.

What was the first sign you knew you had a crush on someone? I got increasingly nervous around them and I just wanted to be with them all day and listen to their stories and buy them food and stuff. Also, I knew when I started crying over them. Hahahaha man this just made me feel so nostalgic. I miss that feeling of first falling in love with someone.

What's the best lemonade you've made from the lemons life gave you? The self-love, self-acceptance, and self-validation I gained after my breakup felt and continues to feel wonderful. I never realized how much of myself I sacrificed and gave away. I will never do that again and will always make sure to leave more than enough room for myself in the future.

Who was your cartoon crush while growing up? Sam from Totally Spies and Shego from Kim Possible.

What's the best way to deal with religious door knockers? We don’t have those here. But I imagine just telling them “No thanks” and closing my door.

What’s the most hypocritical thing you’ve ever seen or heard? My mom is a big hypocrite in general; she exhibits some behaviors that she would typically chew me out for. But she would never admit to that; that, or she wouldl use mental gymnastics to convince me that the way I’m doing the thing is wrong and that her version is the acceptable one.

Who’s the most interesting person you’ve ever met? Probably one of the artists at Pinto Museum. Every time I’ve gone there, he’s always standing at the first gallery - he looks like your typical visitor, but I’ve come to realize he actually scans the museum looking for people who are genuinely into the artworks and not just there to shoot photos. I know, because he has always ended up approaching me and whoever I’m with at the time so that he can explain every single painting. He’s done the same thing with me - I think he keeps forgetting me, but it’s fine - 2-3 times, with the same spiels and same interesting explanations and anecdotes. In the end he always reveals that he painted a number of the works in the museum and for his sake I will always try to act surprised, haha. Anyway, he’s brilliant and very talented, and always has great stories to tell.

What just doesn't impress you? Certain movies that are meant to be hailed as one of the greats.

What’s the worst possible way to introduce yourself? By being an ass from the get-go, I suppose.

What makes you wish that you were born in the past or the future? I hate missing out on things when I’m already around, which is why I often wish I could live long enough to see what advancs and developments we could be capable of reaching in the future. Would we find a cure for cancer? Will I get to see my country get richer and more developed like it has always deserved to? Will travel to outer space be a thing? It’s stuff like that I’d love to see happen and the idea of potentially missing out on them because maybe they’re not meant to happen in my lifetime kinda bums me out.

What tragic event was coincidentally beneficial to you? I started loving the shit out of myself from my breakup. I thought I was already comfortable with who I was and where I was in life, but I soon learned that I could be doing so much more for myself, self-esteem-wise.

What's something people are proud of, but it doesn't impress you? Wealth, usually, especially if it’s generational. < True. Also, fucking watches? I’ll never understand the need for watches that cost a million pesos when I could easily stomp on them lmao.

What's the worst possible moment to go and play on a bouncy castle? Doing it with an upset stomach.

Who is the greatest ever comedian? I don’t know about greatest. I certainly don’t watch enough comedians to make such a choice.

What’s your irrational fear? Sometimes I’ll get an irrational urge to do something stupid and/or dangerous. For instance I was in Tagaytay last weekend, on the 20th floor of a condo and to my surprise, the windows could be opened and they didn’t have any bars either. As I opened a window I thought about jumping and it freaked me out, so much so I immediately closed it and never went back to it. I believe there’s a word for this phenomenon in a foreign language; I just can’t remember what it is now.

What's your oldest memory? Waking up inside a Winnie the Pooh tent with my sister when I was 3, she 1. My parents let us go ‘camping,’ even though the tent was simply set up on the floor of our bedroom.

What can you not wake up without? Greeting my dogs.

What did you think was cool when you were younger that you now think isn’t? Side bangs.

What are your favorite or most memorable lines from any movie/show? “I would ask you to consider your response in light of the respect that my rank and office deserve, not that which my age and gender might suggest.” from The Crown. Holy shit that line was so good. I’ll need to rewatch this showagain.

What's something people love to hate? Mainstream culture. < Very true.

What’s something that is underrated but extremely useful? Car adaptors have saved my ass so many times while driving long distances and needing to constantly use data to have access to Waze.

#survey #surveys #rly great questions too

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newstfionline · 7 years

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Learning to Learn: You, Too, Can Rewire Your Brain

By John Schwartz, NY Times, Aug. 4, 2017

The studio for what is arguably the world’s most successful online course is tucked into a corner of Barb and Phil Oakley’s basement, a converted TV room that smells faintly of cat urine. (At the end of every video session, the Oakleys pin up the green fabric that serves as the backdrop so Fluffy doesn’t ruin it.)

This is where they put together “Learning How to Learn,” taken by more than 1.8 million students from 200 countries, the most ever on Coursera. The course provides practical advice on tackling daunting subjects and on beating procrastination, and the lessons engagingly blend neuroscience and common sense.

Dr. Oakley, an engineering professor at Oakland University in Rochester, Mich., created the class with Terrence Sejnowski, a neuroscientist at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies, and with the University of California, San Diego.

Prestigious universities have spent millions and employ hundreds of professionally trained videographers, editors and producers to create their massive open online courses, known as MOOCs. The Oakleys put together their studio with equipment that cost $5,000. They figured out what to buy by Googling “how to set up a green screen studio” and “how to set up studio lighting.” Mr. Oakley runs the camera and teleprompter. She does most of the editing. The course is free ($49 for a certificate of completion--Coursera won’t divulge how many finish).

“It’s actually not rocket science,” said Dr. Oakley--but she’s careful where she says that these days. When she spoke at Harvard in 2015, she said, “the hackles went up”; she crossed her arms sternly by way of grim illustration.

This is home-brew, not Harvard. And it has worked. Spectacularly. The Oakleys never could have predicted their success. Many of the early sessions had to be trashed. “I looked like a deer in the headlights,” Dr. Oakley said. She would flub her lines and moan, “I just can’t do this.” Her husband would say, “Come on. We’re going to have lunch, and we’re going to come right back to this.” But he confessed to having had doubts, too. “We were in the basement, worrying, ‘Is anybody even going to look at this?’”

Dr. Oakley is not the only person teaching students how to use tools drawn from neuroscience to enhance learning. But her popularity is a testament to her skill at presenting the material, and also to the course’s message of hope. Many of her online students are 25 to 44 years old, likely to be facing career changes in an unforgiving economy and seeking better ways to climb new learning curves.

Dr. Oakley’s lessons are rich in metaphor, which she knows helps get complex ideas across. The practice is rooted in the theory of neural reuse, which states that metaphors use the same neural circuits in the brain as the underlying concept does, so the metaphor brings difficult concepts “more rapidly on board,” as she puts it.

She illustrates her concepts with goofy animations: There are surfing zombies, metabolic vampires and an “octopus of attention.” Hammy editing tricks may have Dr. Oakley moving out of the frame to the right and popping up on the left, or cringing away from an animated, disembodied head that she has put on the screen to discuss a property of the brain.

Sitting in the Oakleys’ comfortable living room, Dr. Oakley said she believes that just about anyone can train himself to learn. “Students may look at math, for example, and say, ‘I can’t figure this out--it must mean I’m really stupid!’ They don’t know how their brain works.”

Her own feelings of inadequacy give her empathy for students who feel hopeless. “I know the hiccups and the troubles people have when they’re trying to learn something.” After all, she was her own lab rat. “I rewired my brain,” she said, “and it wasn’t easy.”

As a youngster, she was not a diligent student. “I flunked my way through elementary, middle school and high school math and science,” she said. She joined the Army out of high school to help pay for college and received extensive training in Russian at the Defense Language Institute. Once out, she realized she would have a better career path with a technical degree (specifically, electrical engineering), and set out to tackle math and science, training herself to grind through technical subjects with many of the techniques of practice and repetition that she had used to let Russian vocabulary and declension soak in.

Along the way, she met Philip Oakley--in, of all places, Antarctica. It was 1983, and she was working as a radio operator at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station. (She has also worked as a translator on a Russian trawler. She’s been around.) Mr. Oakley managed the garage at the station, keeping machinery working under some of the planet’s most punishing conditions.

She had noticed him largely because, unlike so many men at the lonely pole, he hadn’t made any moves on her. “You can be ugly as a toad out there and you are the most popular girl,” she said. She found him “comfortably confident.” After he left a party without even saying hello, she told a friend she’d like to get to know him better. The next day, he was waiting for her at breakfast with a big smile on his face. Three weeks later, on New Year’s Eve, he walked her over to the true South Pole and proposed at the stroke of midnight. A few weeks after that, they were “off the ice” in New Zealand and got married.

Dr. Oakley recounts her journey in both of her best-selling books: “A Mind for Numbers: How to Excel at Math and Science (Even if You Flunked Algebra)” and, out this past spring, “Mindshift: Break Through Obstacles to Learning and Discover Your Hidden Potential.” The new book is about learning new skills, with a focus on career switchers. And yes, she has a MOOC for that, too.

Dr. Oakley is already planning her next book, another guide to learning how to learn but aimed at 10- to 13-year-olds. She wants to tell them, “Even if you are not a superstar learner, here’s how to see the great aspects of what you do have.” She would like to see learning clubs in school to help young people develop the skills they need. “We have chess clubs, we have art clubs,” she said. “We don’t have learning clubs. I just think that teaching kids how to learn is one of the greatest things we can possibly do.”

Four Techniques to Help You Learn

FOCUS/DON’T. The brain has two modes of thinking that Dr. Oakley simplifies as “focused,” in which learners concentrate on the material, and “diffuse,” a neural resting state in which consolidation occurs--that is, the new information can settle into the brain. (Cognitive scientists talk about task-positive networks and default-mode networks, respectively, in describing the two states.) In diffuse mode, connections between bits of information, and unexpected insights, can occur. That’s why it’s helpful to take a brief break after a burst of focused work.

TAKE A BREAK. To accomplish those periods of focused and diffuse-mode thinking, Dr. Oakley recommends what is known as the Pomodoro Technique, developed by one Francesco Cirillo. Set a kitchen timer for a 25-minute stretch of focused work, followed by a brief reward, which includes a break for diffuse reflection. (“Pomodoro” is Italian for tomato--some timers look like tomatoes.) The reward--listening to a song, taking a walk, anything to enter a relaxed state--takes your mind off the task at hand. Precisely because you’re not thinking about the task, the brain can subconsciously consolidate the new knowledge. Dr. Oakley compares this process to “a librarian filing books away on shelves for later retrieval.”

As a bonus, the ritual of setting the timer can also help overcome procrastination. Dr. Oakley teaches that even thinking about doing things we dislike activates the pain centers of the brain. The Pomodoro Technique, she said, “helps the mind slip into focus and begin work without thinking about the work.”

“Virtually anyone can focus for 25 minutes, and the more you practice, the easier it gets.”

PRACTICE. “Chunking” is the process of creating a neural pattern that can be reactivated when needed. It might be an equation or a phrase in French or a guitar chord. Research shows that having a mental library of well-practiced neural chunks is necessary for developing expertise.

Practice brings procedural fluency, says Dr. Oakley, who compares the process to backing up a car. “When you first are learning to back up, your working memory is overwhelmed with input.” In time, “you don’t even need to think more than ‘Hey, back up,’” and the mind is free to think about other things.

Chunks build on chunks, and, she says, the neural network built upon that knowledge grows bigger. “You remember longer bits of music, for example, or more complex phrases in French.” Mastering low-level math concepts allows tackling more complex mental acrobatics. “You can easily bring them to mind even while your active focus is grappling with newer, more difficult information.”

KNOW THYSELF. Dr. Oakley urges her students to understand that people learn in different ways. Those who have “racecar brains” snap up information; those with “hiker brains” take longer to assimilate information but, like a hiker, perceive more details along the way. Recognizing the advantages and disadvantages, she says, is the first step in learning how to approach unfamiliar material.

#Barbara Oakley #learning #Learning How To Learn

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nataliehemstockprojectfour · 5 years

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Evaluation

1. Briefly describe the process you went through to create your shoot in detail.

What were the requirements of the brief and did you adhere to them?

The requirements of the brief was to create a photobook that was based off a certain theme. I adhered to this by creating a photobook based off the history of my village that I already knew and then adding buildings that were built around the 1900’s and then photographs the were built in the 2000’s.

What was the creative process you followed?

My creative process was to take photographs of the old buildings; within West Hallam, that I knew the history behind and take a photograph of that building with it in monochrome and then take a photograph of the same building. However, after talking to the teachers the idea changed to take the photographs of the old buildings that I planned to take; but not have the two of each, and then buildings that were built from the 1900’s and then from 2000’s onwards. With that, after I had taken the photographs and went to go edit them, I was planning on editing the older photographs into how they might have looked when they were first built and then with the newer building edit them so they looked like photographs that was took today. However, when I began editing I was told that it would be easier to edit if I just put all of them in black and white. So, that is what I did, though I left the modern photos how I was going to edit them in the first place.

Which sources of inspiration did you use?

The inspiration I looked at was: Christian Richter and Berenice Abbott, because both of these photographers have taken photographs of old buildings, so I thought that it was fitting to look at people who had already taken photographs of old photographs.

What planning did you undertake? Include all evidence

When I had planned to take my photographs, I emailed my old primary school to see if they would allow me to take photographs around the school, so I could have a range of photographs to choose from. However, when I went to take the photographs, the women I spoke to wasn’t there so, I couldn’t go around the old part of the school and take the photographs. After, I was told that she wasn’t there, they told me to email her, so I could rearrange another date, but as I was leaving the school I took a photograph of the main entrance as I wanted to get the photos done and sorted, so I could get my photobook finished. With that, once I had gotten the photographs that I needed sorted in my book, I then I had to plan on how and when I was going to get it printed. I eventually decided to go and get my book printed at Nottingham Trent Print Shop and that I would go and get it printed in the same week that it was supposed to be handed in so it had less chance of being damaged.

What things did you have to think about and account for when arranging and taking your planned shoot/s.

I had to think about if I was going to take all of my photographs on a different day; which I did with a couple of the ones in the 2000-present section because I accidentally got the wrong houses in the wrong decade, or if I was going to do it on the same day; which for the majority of them I did. Alongside that, I also had to think about when was the best day to take the photographs, so I could give Scargill dates, so the women who I was emailing could decide on what was the best date with for her.

What stylistic decisions did you make on how you shot, why?

When I was taking my photographs I tried to get the subject in the middle of my photograph, but with some cases the subject took up the majority of the photograph or wasn’t exactly centre.

What post-production techniques (RAW editing, Photoshop) did you use and why?

The post productions that I was Photoshop to edit my photographs, as it is the only editing software that I semi know how to use. Alongside that, I was also using InDesign to make my book because I that was the best software to create the book.

2. Analyse your final piece in detail.

What is/are your images about? How did you communicate the theme? Is it successful? refer to: techniques; models; composition; lighting; props; signs; symbols etc.

My images are partially about the history that is within West Hallam and how West Hallam in modern times, so you can see the differences between the houses that are located in West Hallam. Throughout my photographs I’ve sort of got different lighting, since when I took the majority of my photographs it had just rained so the clouds where kind of heavy within the sky, and then with a couple of the other photographs the sun broke through, so I had different lighting all together. Alongside that, with the photographs that I had to reshoot the sun was out, so before I edited them they a little overexposed with in the sky, but I managed to bring back the detail.

What made you choose to do what you did? Research? Personal reasons?

I decided to go with what I did because I have loved history ever since I was little; so that is why I was able to remember the information that was given to me when I was about 11 because I was interested in it, and I wanted to do something that was able to keep up my history; as I am no longer doing it.

Do your images go together? Have you told a story?

I think my images do go together because in each photograph that there is a bit of history within each of them, whether or not the history has been made public or not. Alongside that, I think that the story I have told is that no matter what building there is within West Hallam, they have made the building to go to good use whether it is housing, for religious purposes, public purposes or educational purposes.

Annotate each of your final images in detail as you would another photographer’s works. Settings, Composition, narrative, lighting, framing.

I like this photograph because it looks kind of creepy; with the bare tree at the bottom right corner of the photograph and how the monochrome and the clouds make the house look ominous, because of certain elements that all add up to the creepiness. I think that the narrative for this photograph is this is a house that a murderer lives and opens up their door to passers-by; who are looking for a place to stay the night because they are lost and it is the first house they’ve come across, and then the murderer fools them into a false sense of security before killing them. This is because, of the creepy feel you get from the photograph. I also like how the photograph is framed because with that single tree it kind of looks like someone has just walked out of a dark, twisty and mysterious forest and has come to this clearing, which has the old house and the well-kept garden. However, I don’t like this photograph because I think it is a little too dark on the surface of the house. The settings for this photograph were: F/6.3, 1/125, ISO-100 and 20MM.

I like this photograph because of how the light hits the church and you can really see how old the church is from the different colours of the bricks. I think that the narrative for this photograph is a ghost monk or nun doing a service or wandering around the grounds, with like ghost people wandering about in clothing from whatever time period they are from. I also think that the narrative could also have people from the modern day going to visit the dead family members; that are wandering the graveyard and the church, but because the living people don’t have the sight, they cannot see the ghosts. I also like how the photograph is framed because you can see the whole side of the church; minus a little bit of the corner of the church on the right hand side, I also like the fact how there’s also a couple of the gravestones within the photograph. However, I don’t like this photograph because of the tree in the top right corner of the photograph. The settings for this photograph were: F6.3, 1/125, ISO-100 and 18MM.

I like this photograph because of how the light hits the buildings. I think that the narrative behind this building is that there were two families living in these two houses and they either worked in a different bus company or mining company that were rivals and that led to the two works being rivals. However, I don’t like this photograph because I don’t like how the lamppost is in the photograph and how it is set out, so if I were to redo this photograph I would try and get into another position and retake the photograph. The settings that I used for this photograph were set at: F/11, 1/100, ISO-100 and 34MM.

I like this photograph because the road leads you down to the house at the end of the road and I also like the how the sky looks with the clouds and the sun being slightly off camera. I think that the narrative for this photograph is that there was someone, who has been travelling for a long time and they have eventually, been able to come back home. The only problem is, is that the person who has just returned is a time traveller and has ended up in the modern day; as he took too long in the other time periods so they outlived the periods that that person is from and all of the other ones after that, until they managed to come back. I also like how this photograph is framed, with the lines of houses because it sorts of helps lead you down to the building at the end. However, I don’t like this photograph because it’s not exactly in the middle of the road and because I have cars in the photographs so it doesn’t really fit with the buildings as today cars weren’t around when these houses were built, so there are no driveways to fit the cars. The settings that I used for this photograph were: F/20, 1/100, ISO-100 and 43MM.

I like this photo because the photograph shows how the modern buildings have changed from the older buildings due to the difference on technology and the fact that modern day builders and architectures prefer efficiency over style. Alongside that, I think that the narrative of this photograph is that there is a rich family living in this house and one person has gone out to work or to meet up with friends, whilst the other person stays in and does whatever. However, I don’t really like this photograph because you cannot see the full detail of the house because of what angle I was at. The settings for this photograph were set at: F/25, 1/50, ISO-100 and 29MM.

I like this photograph because of how the houses are laid out and because of how the clouds look in the photograph. With that, I think that the narrative to this photograph is that the families that live in these houses have all come home and lock themselves inside, so they can be protected by the storm that is rolling in. I also like how this photograph is set out, because the houses kind of lead you to look at the sky. Alongside that, the roof on the window on the far end of the photograph is sort of pointing up to the sky as well. However, I don’t like this photograph because of the car, the van and the bins that are out, I think this photograph would have been better if those weren’t in the shot because then the houses would be more symmetrical in the photograph, as you would be able to see the other front doors and bottom windows clearer. The settings used for this photograph were: F/8,1/125, ISO-100 and 25MM.

3. Evaluate your performance and final work for this project.

How satisfied are you with your final piece? Why?

I am satisfied with my final piece, as I like how it looks and how it fits together and flows. Though it is not how I wanted it to look; as originally I had planned to have my photobook printed on A4 and then folded in half and stapled, because it is now a A4 booklet that is binded together with metal rings and a clear plastic wallet on the front and back.

What were your strengths and weaknesses? Evidence.

I think that one of my weaknesses was my spelling because within my book I did spell a couple of things wrong; but then I did have them pointed out to me, though I managed to change them before I got it printed on better quality paper. Another one of my weaknesses would be that after looking through the writing I did see a couple of grammar errors that I was unable to go back and change. I think that one of my strengths is that I used a range of colour and black and white photography so I could so the age difference better with the two different styles. Alongside that, another one of my strengths is that I’ve got a front and back cover because I wanted to have it protected as much as I possibly could, so it didn’t get ruined. Another one of my strengths is that I put some history within my photobook and the history that I have placed in is both what I’ve researched recently and history that I’ve known for about 6 years.

If you were to do this project again, what would you do differently and why?

If I were to do this again I would change some of the orders of the photographs so they are in age order. Alongside that, I would also try and find more history on the other buildings that I have taken photographs of so it’s not just a couple that have the history.

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