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sareyen · 2 years

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Are you a magnet? Because you’re attractive as hell (Cherik)

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Summary: Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are famous on campus. Or infamous, really. Their heated rivalry is well known amongst both the staff and students of their university, and it was a common occurrence to see the two of them duking it out all over campus.

When the university tells them to either play nice or say goodbye to their degrees, Charles and Erik decide to give them exactly what they asked for, and more.

So, instead of screaming insults at each other across campus, they shout bad pick-up lines at each other instead – something that everyone decides is infinitely worse.

“Oh no, here we go again,” a student sighed, leisurely picking up their books before dropping to their knees and scuttling under the desk. Other students also groaned, putting on their headphones and joining their classmates under desks, or plastering themselves out of the way against the walls. Some even just straight up left the lecture hall.

“Do you think they’ll just cancel class?”

“I hope they do – I haven’t started my mutants in politics essay yet, and it’s due on Friday.”

“Nah, this one only looks like DEFCON-3 at the most. Probably a few tables will be thrown, maybe Xavier will get pinned to the wall by some chairs, but that’s it.”

“No, it may even be DEFCON-4. Lehnsherr looks like he’s about to kill Xavier.”

The professor, a meek, mild-mannered man that wasn’t paid enough for this, dabbed at the sweat beading on his head as he looked between the two most out-spoken students in his class, agreeing with the gossiping students. Xavier and Lehnsherr were famous on campus – or infamous, really.

Whether it’s in their Mutant History class, or their Mutant Law class, or their Mutant Politics class, they were always at each other’s throats. On the good days they’d just spit arguments at each other in the middle of the lecture hall. On worse days, they’d have to be pulled off each other by other students before someone got injured. And on the worst days, Erik would almost pull all the metal pipes from the walls while Charles’s anger would give everyone on campus and surrounding suburbs a migraine.

They were both were brilliant students, of course. Their essays on mutant politics and law were top of the class, and Xavier definitely had the chops to become a future professor himself, while Erik could become a high-powered CEO, politician or… hitman, judging by the murderous gleam in his eyes at the moment.

“If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!” Charles Xavier hissed, grabbing onto the front of Erik’s shirt, staring up at him with angry blue eyes.

“U-Uh, guys…” Hank McCoy stammered, pushing his glasses nervously up his blue and furry nose, Erik just raising his hand with a wide, almost feral smile.

“Let him come,” Erik said, grinning, teeth gleaming under the trembling lights.

“Mutant U Daily! I saw today’s publication. I cannot believe that you called me a… a…” Charles seethed, usually rosy cheeks turning a bright shade of red that matched his ruddy lips as he shook Erik’s shirt, the taller man just smirking.

“Cowardly integrationist who’d rather bend over backwards on President McKenna’s desk in the oval office than stand up for the rights and safety of his fellow mutants?” Erik said, quoting his own prose verbatim, relishing in how Charles’s eyes only hardened. “Come on, Xavier. Tell me I’m wrong. The fact that you support the Mutant Registration Act just proves that you’re-”

“You twisted my words, you separatist imbecile,” Charles retorted, dropping his hands from Erik’s shirt to run his fingers through his hair in angry exasperation, like Erik was snipping at his last straw. If Xavier ever went bald, it would definitely be because of Lehnsherr – that everyone agreed on.

“Oh? I believe you said that, and I quote, ‘the Mutant Registration Act has its merits’,” Erik drawled, mimicking Charles’s thick English accent and then some, Charles groaning.

“Yes, I said that, but I’m unsure if you oh-so-conveniently forgot that I also said that while the act has its values, there are severe issues with it, which put mutants at risk of persecution and discrimination. So, considering a modified version of the act could have many benefits.”

“Oh, benefits. The only people it benefits are the humans, who would round us up and-” Erik spat out, Charles jabbing a finger into his taut chest before crossing his arms over his own.

“It could help track developing genealogical data, help identify likely mutants early and allow for education and preparation prior to manifestation, and if a mutant commits a crime – and only if they do – then their powers could be registered for monitoring and prevention of future crimes,” Charles ranted, shushing Lehnsherr with another stab of his finger when the man opened his mouth to retort. “Similar to the currently existing sex offender’s list. Lehnsherr, if you actually read my column on the Daily, you would have understood that, but apparently you are an illiterate buffoon-”

“Illiterate buffo- Is that the best you’ve got, Xavier? Because if you’re lowering yourself to petty name-calling then you must be running out of intelligent arguments,” Lehnsherr snorted, though the squealing from the pipes in the walls showed that the insult grated on his nerves. Charles merely raised a brow, expression cool, though the brewing headache everyone began having at the same time was proof that the usually sunny and cheerful man was pissed.

“You called me a cowardly integrationist slut first!”

“Oh no, I never called you a slut, Xavier. Freudian slip on your part?”

“Well you insinuated that I’d happily bend over for our dear Mr President just because I’m able to logically think about both the pros and cons about something instead of going straight to threatening domestic terrorism!”

“If you think that something that supports a second Holocaust has any pros, then there must be something wrong with your brain!”

“The only thing wrong with my brain is that it allows me to hear all of the insanity that’s rattling inside your brain!”

“Well listen all you like, Xavier, because unlike you, I actually support mutants since I don’t condone the use of suppressants or power-dampening collars,” Erik continued, glancing at Charles’s neck, where he often sported the thick, black collar during exams. The pipes in the walls rattled more intensely, enough to make even Charles look away from Erik’s eyes and to the quaking classroom around him.

Charles opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when the door of the lecture hall burst open, revealing a very, very angry Professor Shaw, Dean of the Mutant Studies faculty within Columbia.

“Xavier! Lehnsherr! My office, now!” Shaw roared, glaring at the two most promising yet troublesome students, before whirling on his heels and stomping down the halls, the weight of his steps likely leaving potholes in his wake.

“Oh, thank God,” the weak-willed professor sighed, wiping his brow again before collapsing against his lectern with relief, only until he looked at his watch and slumped.

There was only 15 minutes left of the lecture left.

Guess another class had to be cancelled.

***

“This is the last straw, gentlemen,” Shaw said, smiling chillingly at the two students sitting in front of him. “I know you two despise each other, but enough is enough!”

“Professor Shaw, I assure you, this will be the last time-” Charles tried with a pleasant smile, Shaw shutting him up with a sharp look as Erik just rolled his eyes.

“Ass kisser,” Erik muttered, Charles turning to glare at him.

“I would have believed that the first time, Mr Xavier. And the second time. But this is the umpteenth time you two have caused trouble, and not only in Professor Jacob’s class. All of your professors have complained that your constant arguments are disruptive, not to mention the destruction of school property by Mr Lehnsherr, and your violation of the school’s telepathy restrictions-”

“Restrictions which are bullshit anyway,” Erik suddenly interrupted, Shaw slamming his hands down on his desk and angrily jerking an accusatory finger at the two students.

“Last straw! If you two are at each other’s throats and disrupt any further classes, then say goodbye to your degrees,” Shaw said, Charles and Erik’s mouths dropping simultaneously.

“Goodbye?” Charles echoed, standing up in alarm. “Goodbye, as in-”

“We fail?” Erik finished, Shaw smiling with false geniality, eyes like icicles.

“Indeed. You’ll have to repeat the year. Such a shame, considering you only need this semester’s credits to graduate. Like I said, gentlemen. Considering your behaviour these past two and a half years, you should be grateful that we haven’t expelled you outright,” Shaw said, waving his hand. “Now, get out of my office. It would be in your best interest to either get over your hatred for one another, or learn to deal with it. I’d better not have to get the two of you back in here again.”

“But-” Charles tried, Shaw ignoring him and just pointing to the door. Charles looked helplessly at the professor, but Erik just snorted and stomped out, Charles following glumly behind him.

“We need to talk, Charles,” Erik said as they left, Charles nodding. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” Charles said, smiling a little now. “I have the good Scotch, remember?”

***

“I cannot believe Shaw’s audacity,” Charles complained, pouring two glasses of expensive scotch and sliding one over to Erik, who was sprawled across Charles’s couch and nursing a very unamused expression on his face at the mention of the Dean. “He’s punishing us for actually speaking up in class and debating very relevant subjects related to mutant issues. Last I checked, we’re paying to get a Mutant Studies degree.”

“Agreed. If our professors were actually qualified enough to teach us, we wouldn’t have to be the ones picking up the slack in class,” Erik said, swirling the amber scotch in his glass. “No one would learn anything if we didn’t discuss things so thoroughly in and out of class.”

“Precisely! And we both have the highest GPAs in the class. If Shaw fails us while Sean gets to graduate, it would be a gross failure of the American education system,” Charles said, Erik snorting and holding up his glass, the two of them clinking cups and drinking.

“Not to mention Summers. I caught a glimpse of his essay, and it was honestly such a train wreck. I wish I could unread it, my quality of life would be much better that way,” Erik said, Charles shivering at the mere thought. “Apart from you, the only people with more than one braincell in our class are Hank, Armando and Moira. Emma doesn’t count because she plagiarises everything.”

“Huh, surprised you added Moira there, since she’s a mere human and all,” Charles said with a small, teasing smile. Erik just rolled his eyes, patting the couch beside him. Charles let out a soft laugh, putting his glass down and sinking down on the couch next to Erik, who wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s belly and buried his head in his muscled thigh.

“I can’t fail this degree, Erik. You know my mother. She already thinks I’ve screwed up my life by studying mutant arts instead of something ‘useful’ like business management or ‘glorified pretentiousness’ so I can take over Xavier Pharmaceuticals. If I actually screw this degree up, it’ll only prove that she was right,” Charles mumbled, Erik nodding. Erik knew all about Charles’s less than pleasant childhood, and despite his boyfriend growing up in a grand house and immense material wealth, he knew about the pressure and coldness that came with it.

Having met Charles’s mother on multiple occasions, it was still a wonder how Charles grew up to become such a wonderful person. In this case, the apple flew far, far, far away from the tree.

“Same here. I can’t afford to pay for another year of school if I have to repeat. And no, Charles, I’m not going to let you pay for my degree,” Erik said, kissing Charles into silence knowingly, the man just responding wordlessly with a huff. “Yes, yes, you could pay off my student debt with your monthly allowance, but I don’t want you to.”

“And I won’t, if you don’t want me to,” Charles said, understanding Erik’s need for his independence, knowing that his boyfriend’s upbringing had made it difficult for him to rely on people. To trust people. Apart from his mother Edie, Charles had been the first person Erik could open himself up to, because Charles always understood. Maybe it was partially because of his telepathy, but it was also because it was Charles. Kind, patient, lovely Charles, who didn’t mind Erik’s barbed words and cold exterior, allowing him to slowly reveal small facets of himself until he was ready to give Charles everything.

“I don’t know why Shaw is getting his pants in a twist now. It’s not like we’ve ever actually been mad at each other. We’re just debating…” Erik said, before pausing and looking at Charles, peeling his head up from the telepath’s thigh. “You weren’t actually offended that I called you a cowardly integrationist, were you?”

Charles laughed, shaking his head and leaning down to plant a reassuring kiss on Erik’s lips.

“Only if you’re not offended that I called you a separatist imbecile… or an illiterate buffoon,” Charles replied, Erik’s eyes sparkling with mirth and fond affection, sitting up only to push Charles down against the plush fabric of the couch, hovering over him.

“Not at all,” Erik said, before frowning. “But I am offended by the fact that everyone thinks we hate each other. I overheard someone saying that if anything ever happened to you – which I would never allow to happen, mind you – that the police should question me first. Like I’d ever hurt you.”

Erik scowled at the memory of what he overheard in the university halls once. He knew he could come off as intimidating, especially with his menacing smile and taciturn demeanour, but the fact that they thought him capable of hurting Charles was insulting and ridiculous.

He loved Charles, and would rather die than let anything happen to him.

Charles caught that thought, blue eyes softening as he raised his hands to cup Erik’s cheeks, thumbs rubbing gentle, affectionate circles over the man’s skin.

‘I love you too, darling,’ Charles pressed into Erik’s mind, soothing some of the frustrated knots building there. Erik sank into Charles’s touch, nuzzling into the palm of his hand. ‘I also find it ridiculous how anyone can think that I despise you. And trust me, they think that a lot.’

“The fact that they haven’t even realised that we’re dating is also beyond me. It’s been two years! Idiots, the whole lot of them,” Erik scoffed, groaning when Charles began running his fingers through his hair.

“Darling, they wouldn’t notice unless we started having sex right in front of them in the lecture hall. And even then, they’d think it’s just hate sex. Everyone genuinely thinks we detest each other, which is why we’re in this predicament in the first place.”

“But I don’t want to stop arguing with you in class,” Erik grumbled. “Arguing with you is the only enjoyable thing I get to do all day. Without it, class would be boring as fuck, and everything you say makes more sense than whatever nonsense our Professors keep spouting, even if you’re an integrationist idiot.”

“Yes, yes, my frustratingly sexy supremacist. Alas, as much as I agree, if we don’t tone it down then we’ll be in the horrible position of repeating the year. I suppose we have to ‘play nice’ for Shaw until graduation,” Charles sighed, the two men sinking into a glum silence, before Charles perked up. “Unless…”

Erik raised a brow now, eyeing the mischievous curl of Charles’s lips.

“Since the university wants us to play nice, why don’t we play really nice?” Charles said, Erik beginning to catch on, lips spreading into his signature grin.

“Oh? Care to share what ‘playing nice’ would consist of?”

“Well, to start…”

***

Students and professors alike ogled at the unfathomable scene in the university parking lot.

They saw Erik Lehnsherr park his rust-bucket car like always, stepping out with his trademark glower and long legs. And, like always, Charles Xavier walked in through the gates from the bus stop, satchel slung over his shoulder and wearing his characteristic tweed.

But, unlike always, instead of hurling an insult at Xavier, Lehnsherr smiled instead and… whistled.

“Hey, Xavier! Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you!” Erik called out, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped over to Xavier, expecting him to begin writing up a sexual harassment lawsuit.

Instead, the man just beamed and flushed a pretty pink, licking his lips before speaking.

“Really? Well, in that case, if being sexy is a crime, you’d be guilty as charged,” Xavier said back, even adding a charming wink at the end of it. Lehnsherr actually laughed – laughed – before walking into the building after Xavier.

Everyone had the same collective thought, almost like a telepath had put it there in everyone’s heads.

What the actual fuck?

***

Later that day, everyone expected for Xavier and Lehnsherr to begin duking it out in class as per usual, especially after their fight was interrupted by Professor Shaw the day before.

Lehnsherr sat down in his usual seat in the mid row by the window, but Xavier had yet to arrive. They noticed Lehnsherr’s long leg bobbing up and down as he continuously glanced at the door, as if waiting to murder Xavier the moment he walked in.

Just before the professor hobbled in, Xavier arrived, blue eyes immediately zeroing in on Lehnsherr and skipping over to him with intent. Lehnsherr just leaned back in his chair and smirked, ready and waiting.

‘Oh, thank God, they’re going to yell at each other and everything will be back to normal,’ everyone thought, until Xavier spoke, that was.

“You know, someone should really call the cops, because it has to be illegal for someone to look this gorgeous,” Xavier said confidently, Lehnsherr’s smirk only deepening as his gaze on Xavier became even more intense, before he suddenly blinked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh, sorry,” Lehnsherr said, gesturing to his eyes before grinning. “There must be something wrong with my eyes, Xavier, because I can’t seem to take them off you.”

Xavier giggled, settling down in his seat after giving Erik another dazzling, flattered smile, while everyone else wondered if the world began spinning backwards today.

Because Xavier and Lehnsherr were not only being civil, but they were…

Flirting?

***

Like many students, Charles and Lehnsherr spent their free period in the library, catching up on assignments or revising for exams. Xavier was there first, lips pursed in thought as he perused the well-stocked shelves for obscure texts about mutant origins. When Lehnsherr strode into the library like he owned it, eyes immediately spotting Xavier, everyone held their breaths.

Lehnsherr walked over to the telepath quickly, long legs swallowing up the distance between them.

“Hey, Xavier,” Lehnsherr said, leaning on the shelf beside the shorter man, who turned to him with his head tilted to the side, curious. “Are you a library book? Because I’d like to check you out, take you home and get to know you a little better.”

Xavier’s lips twitched, clearing his throat as he approached the metal bender, reaching up and bracketing the taller man between his arms.

“Well, fancy that. Did you know that I’m writing a book myself?” Xavier said, voice almost a purr.

“No, I didn’t know that. What kind of book?” Lehnsherr asked, Xavier hopping up onto his tiptoes, leaning in.

“It’s a phonebook, and it’s missing your number,” Xavier concluded, everyone in the library simultaneously choking on their own breaths as Lehnsherr grinned, flicking his wrist up and making a student nearly screech when their marker levitated out of their hand and into Lehnsherr’s.

Lehnsherr scribbled a string of numbers onto Xavier’s palm, their fingers lingering far too long against each other for anyone to feel comfortable.

“If you need help writing it, I’m great at rearranging the alphabet. Of course, I’d put U and I together,” Lehnsherr said, Xavier biting his lip before stepping back, humming thoughtfully.

“I might just have to take you up on that, Erik.”

Everyone was silent, pretending to stare at their laptops or books, but unless their mutation was stealth it was obvious they were eyeing the two most high-profile mutants at the university. Xavier left first, checking out a large stack of books, and moments after Lehnsherr followed him, grinning widely and looking far too pleased with himself.

***

“A library book? Really, Erik? And you wrote down the pizza place’s number on my hand with a permanent marker,” Charles gasped through a breathy moan as Erik kissed and nibbled at his neck, tongue lapping at the freckles there.

“It was thematically appropriate, at least. The library line, not the pizza thing,” Erik defended himself, smiling as Charles just huffed and tugged at his hair, pulling him down into a dirty kiss. “I was just really craving pizza.”

“I wish you could’ve felt the way everyone’s minds imploded in the library,” Charles said when they broke for air, flipping the two of them over and straddling Erik’s body, pushing him down onto the mattress and peppering kisses down his chest.

“Oh?”

“Mm. They were all wondering why we weren’t at each other’s throats like usual. Wondering if the world was ending and all that.‘The apocalypse is nigh’ someone very eloquently put it,” Charles continued, kissing his way back up when he got to the dipped V that disappeared into Erik’s jeans, sucking a dark red welt on his boyfriend’s neck and finishing it off with a cheeky bite.

“Not at each other’s throats, huh? The evidence here begs to differ,” Erik echoed, voice rough as he tilted his neck to the side so Charles could admire his hard work that blossomed darkly on Erik’s, Charles’s own eyes darkening.

“Seriously, if you come to class with that, people would have to realise that we’re fucking, right?” Charles sighed, reaching down to undo Erik’s fly, the metallokinetic flicking his fingers to help him out, the zipper sliding down on its own accord. Erik drank in the small smile Charles couldn’t fight back at the sight of that, even now. Charles always loved the little ways Erik used his powers, that spark of wondrous delight never dulling no matter how many times Erik lifted a forkful of spaghetti or turned on a tap when his hands were full.

‘Well yes, you’re quite brilliant, Erik,’ Charles spoke reverently into Erik’s mind, licking his lips before grinning. ‘Even if your pick-up lines are terrible.’

“Oh, just you wait,” Erik chuckled, pulling Charles down as he ground his hips up, the telepath gasping at the friction. “There are plenty more where those came from.”

“Oh, I so look forward to it. And to everyone’s reactions,” Charles purred, reaching down and slipping his hands into Erik’s briefs. “Now, since you were craving pizza for dinner, what are you desiring for dessert?”

‘You,’ Erik projected, arching up when Charles began palming his hardening cock.

“Same here,” Charles said, winking, and Erik pre-emptively rolled his eyes. “You must be my dessert, because I’ll be pudding it in you.”

“Charles, just shut up and fuck me.”

***

Erik glared at his laptop, the essay he had been reading and re-reading over and over beginning to blur in his eyes. If there were any telepaths or empaths having lunch on the grass outside the school buildings, they would likely feel the waves of frustration and exhaustion wafting off him right now.

At least, until the scent of sugar exploded in front of him, his essay obscured by a box of colourful donuts, a blinding smile and ocean blue eyes.

Charles tried not to burst out into laughter as someone on the grass thought very loudly ‘Oh shit, here comes World War III’.

“Erik,” Charles chirped, plopping himself down next to the German, who closed his laptop and pushed it off his lap with his powers.

“Charles,” Erik replied simply, looking amused when his boyfriend picked up one of the glazed donuts, holding it out to him. Erik took a large bite, Charles laughing and rubbing some of the crusted sugar off his lip.

“Are you a doughnut? Because you’re just a-dough-able,” Charles said with a straight face, Erik almost choking on the sugary treat, but managing to swallow it and pinch Charles’s thigh.

Picking up another donut – the sickeningly sweet caramel one that Charles favoured – Erik pressed it against Charles’s lips. Charles licked it slowly, sugar coating his tongue and lips, before taking a languid bite and letting out a low moan.

Erik squeezed the telepath’s thigh again, making him smile.

“Charles, you must be a donut, because I’m ready to glaze you inside and out,” Erik said, Charles unable to hold back the peal of laughter that escaped his lips. The telepath almost wheezed as he careened into Erik’s chest with laughter, the metallokinetic catching both him and the forgotten box of donuts.

‘Oh, someone just thought that they’d rather us try to murder each other than hear such bad pick-up lines. Apparently us blowing each other up is far more tolerable than us blowing each other on the grass,’ Charles pushed at Erik, who just grinned and looked around the grass, everyone who was staring suddenly turning their gazes away.

‘Good. Maybe if we’re even more sickeningly sugary sweet Shaw will tell us that we should go back to arguing instead,’ Erik projected back, Charles raising an eyebrow.

‘You know what, darling? You are a genius. On another note, if you’re as sick of your essay as your mind says you are, shall we go back to mine so you can glaze my donut hole?’

***

“Erik! Come and feel my new shirt! Do you know what this shirt is made out of?” Charles yelled from the top of the stairs, all of the students, including Erik, stopping and turning their heads up to look at him. “It’s boyfriend material!”

Charles beamed as people groaned in their minds, while Erik just ran up the stairs and swept Charles off his feet obnoxiously.

***

“You, Charles, must be a magnet, because you’re attracting me like crazy,” Erik said as he sauntered up to Charles in the halls, the telepath backing up into some lockers as Erik caged him in, both men smiling at each other as everyone else collectively gagged.

***

Charles burst into the classroom, holding his phone out and then thrusting it towards Erik.

“Hey Erik. Cupid is on the phone. He wants to tell you to give me my heart back,” Charles said, the students around them dropping their heads in their hands and wishing that their disgust-induced migraines went away.

***

In the men’s bathroom at adjacent urinals, Charles and Erik continued, the students around them wishing they were anywhere else because they knew what was about to come.

“Charles, my love for you is like diarrhoea – I just can’t hold it in.”

***

For the next two weeks, any time, any place, no matter who was around, Charles and Erik were unrelenting. What had once been yelling matches about mutant rights became pun-ridden flirtation filled to the brim with horrible pick-up lines and even more horrible eye-sex.

“Erik! If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

“Charles! Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I scraped my knees falling for you!”

“Erik, my secondary mutation is actually precognition, because I definitely see you in my future!”

“Charles, no wonder the sky is so grey today – all the colours are in your eyes!”

“Erik, we must be in a museum, because you’re a work of art!”

“Charles, life without you is like a broken pencil, completely pointless!”

“Erik, are you a campfire? Because you’re bloody hot and I want s’more!”

“Charles, you need to take me to the doctor, because I broke my legs falling for you!”

***

Everyone only lasted another week of Charles and Erik’s constant pick-up lines and bad puns, and on Monday morning they found themselves sitting in Shaw’s office once again, the Dean scowling at them with, what Charles could feel, a killer head ache.

“Okay, you two win. I’ve had enough. We’ve all had enough. You two can graduate, whatever, just stop with the… stuff you’re doing,” Shaw spat out stiffly, Charles sitting there with faux confusion while Erik just smirked, both of their reactions grating on Shaw’s already thin nerves.

“But we’ve done exactly what you told us to. Play nice, wasn’t it? In fact, I think Charles and I have been beyond nice,” Erik said, Charles’s lip twitching.

The vein bulging in Shaw’s forehead pulsed.

“No, I think I can speak on behalf of the entire campus that we’d rather you stop being nice to each other. I’ve had enough emails being sent to me regarding complaints about your… conduct. I had far less emails bombarding me when you two were about to tear down university infrastructure. So, for everyone’s sake and sanity, please go back to hating each other,” Shaw said gratingly through gritted teeth, before waving the two of them out and rummaging around his desk for some painkillers or hard alcohol.

Or both.

Together.

When Charles and Erik left, they grinned at each other, before Erik leaned in with a suggestive nudge.

“So, what do you want to argue about in class today?” Erik whispered, Charles laughing with bright eyes, hopping up to peck Erik’s lips.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll think of something. We’ve got weeks of arguing to make up for.”

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x-men #xmen #fanfic #ao3 #fluff #humor #pick-up lines #groovy flirty mutants

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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

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darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

#my writing #b99 #peraltiago #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fanfiction #here it is i hope you enjoy!!!

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edie-baby · 3 years

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Baby Boy Chapter 5 | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

The Austrian summer sun glared into Milana’s eyes from her position in the middle of the master bed. She rolled over slightly, wanting to get out and find her best friend so they could go for breakfast and then some shopping they both knew was inevitable on any trip. With a huff, the Czech stood up, only just realising exactly how sore the men had made her. She waddled to her suitcase, willing herself to suck it up and keep walking around until she got used to the pain.

A white pleated skirt and tight red cropped shirt seemed like a suitable enough outfit for her day’s plans, so with a waddle only a penguin could rival, Milana made it to the bathroom for a hot shower. The entire hotel room had the unmistakable smell of sex, and she was sure she’d need to leave the room before the smell seeped into her hair and clothes. Maybe housekeeping could work some magic while she was out.

“BABE ARE YOU HERE?” Milana heard the very recognisable croaky voice of her best friend. She called out that she was in the shower, and in a few short seconds, Victoria was sitting on the vanity in the bathroom, swinging her legs while Milana continued to cover herself in body wash that smelled delightfully of cherries.

“So, you had a good time with Lewis, I hear.” Milana giggled, and Victoria couldn’t help but to laugh along. She knew it was ridiculous that the man was able to make her scream his name so loud and for so long that she nearly lost her voice entirely.

“And judging by the bed, your silk tie, and the overall reek of the room, you did too. So, who’d you bring back? Daniel? Max?” Victoria questioned. While her brother was off limits to most of her friends, Milana was one of two women Victoria was familiar with that she would allow to mess around with her brother.

“Both.” Milana replied. Victoria gasped, giggling out a quick ‘you whore’ before asking what exactly her best friend meant.

“Like, you took Daniel from the party and picked Max up down the hall?” Victoria pressed, the only other option was that they had willingly come together, which didn’t seem like something her brother would be comfortable with.

“Nope, took them both at the same time.” Milana answered as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself as Victoria looked at her in complete shock.

“Oh, I’m never going to let Max live that down.” Victoria giggled before she jumped from the counter and moved to grab some clothes to wear for the day. Milana got dressed into her outfit and felt quite proud of how cute it looked considering she had basically picked up two random items and hoped for the best. About forty-five minutes later, the girls left the room hand-in-hand, their makeup and hair done as beautifully as it was last night, but hopefully today it would last more than a few hours before getting ruined.

“Morning Max! Going to see Dan?” Victoria chirped as she saw her brother walking toward where she and Milana waited for the elevator. Max’s face went a deep shade of red and the girls simply laughed and stepped into the elevator together.

Victoria and Milana had found a cafe nearby the hotel to have a quick brunch before heading out for their big day of shopping. As soon as they walked in, many heads turned thanks to the jingle of the bell above the door. Victoria spotted the Twitch Quartet in one of the tables up the back, the rest of the patrons seemed to be members of teams from all over the grid, as many of them were dressed in their team kit.

George waved the two girls over, coincidentally there were two seats spare at the table, one squished between Lando and the wall, and the other at the head of the table. As Victoria was a few paces ahead of Milana, she took the spacious seat at the head with Alex and Charles nearest to her. Milana practically floated over to the seat beside Lando and sat with her back leant up against the wall, her knees brushing against the Brit’s thigh.

“Milana, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I saw you at the party last night, but didn’t get a chance to chat to you. I’m Alex, I drive with Max.” The Thai introduced himself, offering a hand to shake as he was straight across the table from Milana. She accepted it gracefully, a sweet smile curling her lips. She could see from the corner of her eye that Lando was looking at her with a small frown on his face.

“What’s wrong baby boy? You look upset.” Milana commented with a soft voice, the late night and early morning contributing to her voice being a little huskier than usual. Lando blushed fiercely at the pet name and bit his lip. The others around the table looked shell shocked by the words that had fallen from the Czech woman’s lips.

“You just look tired.” Lando mumbled, his blue-green eyes darting up to make contact with the dark hazel of Milana’s. Her eyes softened at his words, and she couldn’t help the smile on her face. She patted his thigh softly and assured him she was alright.

“You girls looked lovely last night, by the way. I didn’t get the chance to tell you before you were leaving with Daniel and Max, and then Vic disappeared not long after.” George complimented. Victoria giggled, the fact that she had teased her brother about going to see his ex-teammate less than a half hour ago, and already the two were being brought up together.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. And also noticed the noise an hour after that.” Alex grumbled. Milana smirked, and saw the shock smack Charles and George in the face. Lando seemed to be watching her with intrigue.

“Wait, you took one of them back to your room?” George questioned. At this, Victoria burst out laughing, garnering strange looks from everyone but the woman of the hour.

“Well, no. Not one.” Milana spoke, staring George in the eyes until he understood what she was implying. He gasped so hard he choked on his spit and began coughing up a lung. Victoria rubbed his back sympathetically, while Charles continued trying to figure out the implications of the woman’s words in a language that was not his native tongue. Lando and Alex had understood at the same time as George, albeit with less dramatic reactions. Alex’s jaw dropped, his ideas of his teammate changing as he stared at the woman in front of him. Lando’s eyebrows were raised, a small smirk on his face, he was impressed.

“So, let me get this straight. You convinced Daniel Ricciardo, the womanizer of the grid, and Max Verstappen, Mr. I Don’t Share Anything to have a threesome?!” Alex almost squealed. It was at this point where Charles caught up, the blunt words finally clearing his confusion up, at which point he began mumbling in broken French. Milana simply nodded at George and took a sip of Lando’s iced coffee, to which he barely reacted.

“Fuck, they must have ruined you.” George muttered, looking at Milana with sympathy and a small shake of his head. Victoria began giggling at this again, and George looked at her with confusion. It was obvious at this point that the young Verstappen couldn’t hold the truth in without giggling.

“My wife here has a special talent for making difficult men submit.” Victoria nodded proudly at Milana. George began coughing again, Alex looked like a fish, his mouth opening and closing silently, and Charles began rambling in proper French this time, however he was talking so fast that Milana barely caught the worlds ‘petit friponne’ before tuning back out. Lando was staring at her again, the earlier expression was gone, and he looked at her with a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Milana couldn’t help but want to assure the adorable boy in front of her that it was just sex, and if there was anyone she had her eye on at the moment, it was him. But alas, she didn’t.

The group finished their brunch with a lot of stories, laughs, jokes, and new friendships being formed. It made Milana a bit upset as she and Victoria made their way to the Aston Martin they were borrowing, that in about five days, she would be returning to her apartment in Prague, going back to work, and being forgotten by people she could have lifelong friendships with.

The drive to Vienna from Spielberg was about two hours, according to the GPS Victoria had programmed whilst Milana fiddled with the position of the driver’s seat. A few moments later, the girls were on their way, a playlist of their favourite singalongs and party songs blasting through the stereo, the windows down and the two women completely carefree.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #team lando #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #mclaren f1 #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #call me eden

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entity-of-the-opera · 4 years

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Hamilton Musical Essay

First off, I want to say that if you like the musical, that’s fine. I’m not trying to tell you not to like it. I’m simply expressing my thoughts about it.

Secondly, this is mostly about things the musical got wrong, but there is definitely going to be some bias and opinions in here. So don’t take anything I say (unless I have provided a source) as fact.

Now, let's go through this show one song at a time.

(quick warning, this post is long. very long. and will take a while to read. i apologize in advance)

ACT I

Alexander Hamilton

I don't have much of a problem with this song, and it is pretty good. However, I do wish that they hadn’t glossed over his early years. I get that they were not that interesting, but they played such a big part in his life, especially in his later years when he was in politics.

“Me? I loved him” haha no. that line should have been said by Eliza and Laurens. Not Eliza, Angelica and Maria/Peggy.

Aaron Burr, Sir

Oh boy, oh boy, I have quite a bit to say about this one.

I strongly dislike the portrayal of Burr throughout the whole show. I get what LMM was going for with the whole “it’s how history sees him” but, you could’ve given him a bit more character.

Burr singing “Fools that run their mouths off wind up dead” and then Laurens walking out immediately after is clever, because Laurens really was a fool who ran his mouth off quite a lot. Like the time he yelled at the king of France, King Louis XVI.

There's the obvious mistake that Hamilton met John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan and the Marquis de Lafayette at completely different times. He didn’t even meet burr in 1776 as we see here. He met burr in 1772-1773 when Hamilton briefly went to Princeton.

Laurens, Mulligan and Lafayette have very little character (which is something a lot of the people in this show struggle with.) for people who were pretty close to Hamilton, (especially Laurens) they don't seem like they were written to be very important characters. Their personality in this show can be summed up in a sentence.

And there's the other obvious mistake that Lafayette (and probably Laurens as well) never met Mulligan.

My Shot

The foreshadowing is good, I'll give it that.

For some reason, the chemistry between Lafayette and Mulligan-- who, again, never actually met-- is better than the chemistry between Hamilton and Laurens. What's up with that, huh?

“Wait ‘til I sally in on a stallion with the first black battalion” Laurens never got his black battalion. Congress approved the plan, but the South Carolina Legislative Assembly did not.

“Laurens, I like you a lot” get outta here with that crap. Either make their relationship a bigger part in the musical or keep it out completely. I hate how subtle and glossed over their relationship is in this show.

I do like Laurens’ little part in this song, it’s a rare part of the show where we see his actual personality instead of just “grr slavery bad alcohol good.” Anthony Ramos is a very good singer.

This song is pretty good story-wise. It is very well written. Hamilton’s monologue is surprisingly accurate to the real Alexander Hamilton and his beliefs.

The Story of Tonight

It has a good vibe, and I think it’s the closest we see Laurens and Hamilton throughout the entire show, which is kinda nice.

Again with the Lafayette-Mulligan thing LMM why???

The Schuyler Sisters

LMM unintentionally created a monster when he wrote that “and Peggy” line. That joke is one of the most overused and unfunny jokes in this show and its fandom.

Having Angelica be the “strong woman” in the show was a good idea on paper, but it’s not all that accurate to the real Angelica Schuyler, and it’s like her only personality trait (aside from the whole Hamilton and Angelica thing but I’ll talk more on that later)

I'm gonna say this a lot but oh my god these people have no character to them. Not even Eliza Schuyler-- Hamilton’s frickin wife.

Listen ok I am strictly attracted to men but Phillipa Soo is an absolutely beautiful and amazing and talented person. She has full permission to step on me.

Farmer Refuted

The farmer refuted was a pamphlet published by Hamilton in 1775 in response to something Samuel Seabury wrote about how the congress in Philadelphia was bad. Not an actual public debate like you see in the show. But I’ll let this one slide because having the actors read pamphlets onstage would be a lot less entertaining.

That’s pretty much it the song isn’t that interesting.

You’ll Be Back

This is probably just me but I don’t like how King George III steaks the show and is the main source of comedy. When I asked family members after their first viewing of the show who their favourite character was, almost all of them said the King.

Mr. Groff, please keep your spit to yourself.

As far as my knowledge of King George III goes-- and I do not know a lot about him so don’t take this too seriously-- this song is a pretty accurate depiction of ‘The Mad King.’

Redcoat Interlude

Just gonna put this here to say The Bullet is a really cool character.

Right Hand Man

Chris Jackson has the voice of an angel.

I don’t like the way Washington is characterized. At some points, he’s over-glorified, but at other parts of the show, he’s downplayed a lot, and it doesn’t at all seem like the real George Washington.

Washington and Hamilton’s relationship in this show is so off from what it would’ve been historically. You don’t see it much in this song so I won’t say much here for the sake of keeping things organized, but I’ll discuss it later when it’s more obvious

Mulligan is shown in a continental uniform, yet he was not in the army. He was a spy. He wouldn’t have worn a uniform.

As with a lot of songs in this show, the music and choreography are amazing. The ensemble is so so talented.

This scene where Burr is meeting with Washington isn’t entirely wrong, but it’s not exactly how it happened. According to Wikipedia, “In the spring of 1776, Burr's stepbrother Matthias Ogden helped him to secure a position with George Washington's staff in Manhattan, but he quit on June 26 to be on the battlefield.”

Hamilton did not meet Washington at the same time as Burr. He joined Washington’s staff in the spring of 1777.

I’m not exactly sure what he’s referring to when he says “I have some friends, Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette” but I do know that Laurens and Lafayette were not his friends at this point. They weren’t even in America at the time. Mulligan was, and he was good friends with Hamilton.

A Winter’s Ball

The formatting here is wild. This happened in 1780, I don’t know why LMM skipped ahead to this.

“We’re reliable with the ladies” ok that is true I’ll admit.

What is Laurens doing here? He was a prisoner of war in Phillidelphia when Hamilton met Eliza.

Helpless

Eliza was not “helpless.” If anything, Hamilton was the one head-over-heels for her.

Hamilton. Was. Not. Into. Angelica. Angelica. Was. Not. Into. Hamilton.

Hamilton’s little speech to Eliza after he gains her father’s blessing is kinda cute and pretty accurate.

A lot of the people shown in this scene were not at Hamilton’s wedding.

Laurens is shown as Hamilton’s best man, but at the time of Hamilton’s wedding, he was travelling north to meet with Washington after finding out he is to be sent on a diplomatic mission to France. James McHenry, a fellow Aide-De-Camp to Washington, was Hamilton’s best man.

Satisfied

I hate how this is such a good song because what it’s about is probably my least favourite part of this show.

There is no evidence of Angelica being romantically attracted to Hamilton. They likely had a brother-sister kind of bond.

Now, having Angelica as the side love interest wouldn’t have been that bad if it was a real thing, but it wasn’t. LMM intentionally re-wrote a part of history to have her in it, when he could’ve kept the same storyline, and have Laurens be the side love interest. If he had given Laurens that role, he could’ve made the show more historically accurate, and it would bring to light a part of history many people try to erase. But in giving Angelica that role, he has not only completely changed a part in history but has also erased the fact that Alexander Hamilton-- nor John Laurens, for that matter-- was straight. LMM had so much power. He was writing a musical about a founding father. He could have brought so many things we didn’t know to light. And yet, we’re stuck with this.

Angelica was not the person who introduced Hamilton to Angelica. It was most likely Cathrine “Kitty” Livingston, a friend and possible love interest to Hamilton that he met before he joined the army.

Angelica had brothers.

The Story of Tonight (Reprise)

“I’ve seen wonders great and small” *gestures down* I’m sorry sir what?

They were all married before Hamilton.

Wait For It

This is a beautiful song and it doesn’t have much wrong with it.

Stay Alive

Sweet lord the timeline is terrible. The battle of Monmouth happened in 1778 before Hamilton got married.

Here is a better example of the strange portrayal of Washington and Hamilton. The real Washington wouldn’t have called Hamilton “son.” He wouldn’t be as friendly with him. Their relationship was professional.

Mulligan was already in new york, so he wouldn’t have to “go back to new york and [his] apprenticeship.”

“Instead of me, he promotes Charles Lee” Hamilton did not ask for a command at Monmouth. What happened was Lee was given a command, declined, and then it was given instead to Lafayette. Later, Lee requested the command be given back to him because Lafayette was very young and didn’t have much experience. Washinton blindly trusted Lee and agreed to give it back to him.

After Lee was court-martialed, he kept running his mouth and slandering Washington. Hamilton originally wanted to duel lee, but Laurens told him not to, and to just let him say what he wants. Later, after Lee kept running his mouth and the insults got worse, Laurens decided to duel him.

Washington didn’t know of the duel. He didn’t even know it happened until the day after.

Ten Duel Commandments

Hamilton was not the one who was super giddy and impatient for the duel to start, he was kinda the opposite. Laurens was the one who challenged Lee and was the trigger happy one.

Burr was not Lee’s second, Evan Edwards was.

Again, Hamilton was not as enthusiastic as shown here. He was the one who tried to call off the duel and actually prevented Laurens and Lee from firing a second time.

Meet Me Inside

Laurens was not satisfied after he shot Lee, and demanded them to shoot again.

Washington saying “these young men don’t speak for me” isn’t that far off from how he reacted, but we can’t be 100% sure because there’s not a lot that was documented about his reaction to the duel.

Washinton was more upset with Laurens for holding a duel in his honour. So he wouldn’t have lectured Hamilton as he does in this scene.

As I said before, Washington would not be calling Hamilton “son”.

I really wish LMM wrote this scene differently because it’s entirely wrong. Hamilton didn’t leave the army until March of 1781, after being so fed up with Washington continuously denying him a command.

“Charles Lee, Thomas Conway, these men take your name and they rake it through the mud” that is true, and he’s referring to the Conway Cabal. More info on the Conway Cabal can be found here if you’re interested.

The timeline is so confusing here. “Your wife needs you alive” technically, at the time of the duel he didn’t have a wife, but by the time he left Washington’s staff he did. But in the show, I'm assuming this scene takes place in 1778, so, historically, no wife yet. But in the show, he also gets married before this scene. So I don’t know what’s going on here.

That Would Be Enough

For the sake of simplicity and not driving myself to insanity, I’m just gonna assume this takes place in 1781. Because I don’t want to try and figure out the timeline.

Eliza was not a month pregnant yet, in fact, she wasn’t pregnant at all at the time. Hamilton went home in march 1781, and their first son Philip was born in January of the next year. Doing the math, Eliza wasn’t pregnant until May 1781.

This song is actually really sweet aww.

Guns and Ships

Ah, the timeline finally smooths out.

Lafayette wasn’t really a “secret weapon,” he was just a General

Nevermind the timeline is messed up again. “I go to France for more funds” he did that in 1779, and he went back to France on leave, apparently missing home. He ended up working with Benjamin Franklin to send more troops and ships to America.

I wish Laurens was mentioned here. He went on a diplomatic mission to France in February and convinced the french congress to gift America 6 million livres.

Lafayette was not the one to tell Washington he needed Hamilton to come back. What happened was in July after he left, Hamilton sent a letter to Washington threatening to resign his commission. Washinton panicked and sent Tench Tilghman-- a fellow Aide-de-Camp beside Hamilton-- to go to the house Hamilton rented with Eliza to tell him to come back to the army and that Washington will give him a command.

You can see in this scene Lafayette running with a letter, but he was not the person who did that. It was Tilghman.

History Has Its Eyes On You

I can’t think of anything wrong with this song, it’s pretty spot-on and sounds beautiful.

Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)

“We’ll be with you when you do,” ehehe no they were not. The Americans did almost nothing to help France during the French Revolution.

“Take the bullets out your gun” was actually something Hamilton did with his battalion when they were sneaking through the trenches on their way to attack Redoubt 10.

Laurens was not in South Carolina, he was at Yorktown-- fighting under Hamilton’s command-- after just returning from his diplomatic mission to France.

Lafayette was not “there waiting in Chesapeake bay,” he was with the other french troops attacking Redoubt 9.

Again, Mulligan would not have been in uniform.

Mulligan might have “taken their measurements, information” but he sure didn’t “smuggle it.” That was done by his slave, Cato. He and Mulligan were working with the Sons of Liberty and with Hamilton’s spy ring-- of which we do not know the name of-- and smuggled intelligence to General Washington.

The instrumentals and the choreography make me very happy. I really enjoy the short little instrumental break.

The siege of Yorktown lasted three weeks, not just one.

They act like this was the end of the war. It most certainly was not. The war didn’t officially end until 1783 with the signing of the Treaty of Paris. Yorktown was the last major battle of the war, but not just the last.

What comes Next

I’m very picky about this but I don’t like the king purely because I feel like he steals the show and is the automatic favourite.

Dear Theodosia

Philip Hamilton was born a year before Theodosia Burr.

I don’t know much about Burr, but I can say that Hamilton really did love his kids and his family, and I'm upset that we don’t see that in the show. At least we see a bit of it in this song.

Laurens Interlude (Tomorrow There’ll Be More of Us)

“It’s from John Laurens. I’ll read it later.” This makes me sad because the last letter sent between these two was sent from Hamilton on August 15th (and most likely never reached Laurens before his death,) so Hamilton was probably expecting the letter Eliza brings him to be a reply.

We don’t know exactly how Hamilton learned of Laurens’ death, but we do know it was not from a letter from Henry Laurens (John Laurens’ Father.) He most likely learned of Laurens’ death from either Washington or General Greene.

I find it a bit odd that Laurens sings the line “and when our children tell our story” because he never met his daughter, he left his pregnant wife in England (she moved to France a few years later) to sail to America to join the revolution, and never visited them (not even when he was in France for his diplomatic mission.) But I get it, it’s a reprise of “The Story of Tonight.”

The war was not over, but it was close.

“His dream of freedom for these men dies with him.” Yep. Unfortunately, he never got the black battalion he worked so hard for.

I hate how fast it moves from this emotional scene, where Hamilton learns of the death of his closest friend-- the man he loved-- to “after the war I went back to new york” like geez, LMM. give the man some time to grieve.

Non-Stop

The trial of Levi Weeks didn’t happen until 1800.

There is no record of this midnight meeting of Burr and Hamilton.

Burr didn’t actually support the constitution.

Angelica was married long before this, so I don’t know why it’s just being brought up now-- oh wait. LMM is back on his hamgelica bullcrap.

John Jay got sick after writing four, came back to write the fifth, then got sick again and ditched Hamilton and James Madison.

Hamilton did not write all 51 essays on his own, he collaborated on a few with Madison.

Hamilton was not immediately offered the position of Treasury Secretary. It was first offered to Madison, who declined, and then it was offered to Hamilton.

Most of the time, Hamilton was upset that he had to leave his family for work and wrote them often when he was away. From this point onward in the show, Hamilton’s character and personality are getting more and more inaccurate. He was not the selfish, self-centred man we see in the show. In reality, he was a kind man who loved his family but oftentimes made bad decisions due to his bad habit of acting without thought or planning.

ACT II

What’d I Miss

Daveed Diggs is cool, but I don’t understand why so many straight girls are so obsessed with him.

“Pissed him off until we had a two-party system” that’s pretty much true and it’s stupid.

He was in Paris for 5 years. It's not that long.

The “Sally be a lamb” line makes me so upset because it is so disrespectful to Sally Hemmings. I wish LMM left her out completely.

“I am to be the secretary of state, great!” Jefferson was not very happy about being appointed to the secretary of state because he wanted to stay at Monticello and do his own thing.

“I can’t believe that we are free” it’s ironic that Jefferson of all people says that line.

Mr. Madison, that’s not very COVID friendly of you.

Jefferson knew Hamilton for a bit before he went to France, and they did get along outside of politics.

Cabinet Battle #1

I hate how cocky and self-centred Jefferson is here because 1) it’s annoying as hell, and 2) the real Thomas Jefferson was not. He was quiet and shy.

“Imagine what gon’ happen when you try to tax our whiskey.” funny you should say that, Mr. Jefferson. Neither Jefferson nor Madison were not involved with the whiskey rebellion. They were silent on the issue because they made a deal with Hamilton (which I will talk more about in a few songs.) However, Hamilton-- the guy Jefferson is talking to in this scene-- was involved in the whiskey rebellion. He doesn’t have to “Imagine what gon’ happen,” he was there. More info on the whiskey tax and rebellion can be found here.

“We almost died in a trench, while you were off getting high with the french” Jefferson wasn’t in France during the war.

I’m glad the topic of slavery is being brought up, but it could’ve done in a different way instead of just a clap back in a rap battle.

“Madison, you mad as a hatter, son take your medicine” Hamilton is such a hypocrite here. Did he forget the time he almost died of a fever when he was 10? Or when he almost died of a fever in Albany in 1778? Or the fact that on multiple occasions he overworked himself so hard that he got sick? Or his kidney problems? Or--

“You’re gonna need congressional approval and you don’t have the votes!” Jefferson and Madison literally helped him get the votes. (again, I’ll explain later.)

“Well, James Madison won’t talk to me.” He used to. A lot. Hamilton and Madison used to be really good friends until Jefferson returned from France and Madison drifted to his side.

Take a Break

I don’t know how long her trip lasted, but I doubt that Angelica was with Eliza and the kids on their trip upstate. She came to visit in 1789, and the Reynolds affair started in 1791. However, I have no concrete evidence that she left before the affair started, so maybe she was there. I don’t know.

Ah yes, Alexander “I Don’t Care About My Family” Hamilton.

“I have a sister but I want a little brother” by 1791 (when this scene takes place using Philip’s age as a reference) Phillip had 2 brothers already.

While the Schuyler Mansion is near a park, there’s no lake. Today, at least. There’s a swimming pool though.

“I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase,” shut up shut up shut up.

“With a comma after “dearest,” you’ve written: “My dearest, Angelica”” I hate how obsessed LMM is with this stupid comma, yet doesn’t say anything about the multiple suggestive and romantic letter between Laurens and Hamilton.

Speaking of the comma situation, it was meant as a joke. What had happened was Angelica sent a letter to Hamilton with “my dearest, Alexander '' and put the comma by mistake. She just slipped up with her grammar. And in response, Hamilton wrote “my dearest, Angelica” as a joke to tease her about it. It’s not romantic. It was meant. As. A. Joke.

John Adams was vice president. I'd say that’s a real job.

Angelica, stop being all “I came all this way :((“ he doesn’t want to miss out on the trip, but he has to. If he had a choice he would definitely go with his family.

Say No To This

I hate how this song demonizes Mary Lewis (more commonly known as Maria Reynolds) like she was trying to get out of an abusive marriage??? And Hamilton was like “oof that sux wanna bang?”

The heterosexual energy in this scene overwhelms me (/j)

The first letter (that I have found) from James Reynolds to Hamilton was sent on December 15, 1791, so not “a month into this endeavour.”

I will note here that in the letter mentioned above, it sounds nothing like what we hear in the song. Which makes me question if the above letter is even the one Hamilton the musical is talking about.

Because of limited information, I cannot say whether this scene is accurate or not.

“I don’t know about any letter!” she most certainly did. Mary and Reynolds both sent letters to Hamilton concerning the affair.

The Room Where It Happens

This is the song I was talking about when I said I’d talk more about the deal between Jefferson and Madison and Hamilton.

Washington was the one who proposed that this dinner happen.

Clermont street was renamed Mercer street in 1799, the dinner table bargain (what this song is about) was in 1790. Before the Hamilton-Reynolds affair. Yet another wrinkle in the timeline.

“Now how you gonna get your debt plan through?” “I guess I’m gonna finally have to listen to you” well, Hamilton didn’t really “talk less, smile more” his way through the issue. He did-- as he usually does-- quite a lot of talking

“Well, hate the sin, love the sinner” doesn’t sit right with me because it is sometimes used as a homophobic remark.

Jefferson’s account of the bargain on the assumption and residence bills is what this scene is about.

Madison did not hate Hamilton until Jefferson returned from France.

Leslie Odom Jr. is so, so talented.

There is nothing to suggest that Burr wanted to be there. I don’t even think he knew it happened.

Schuyler Defeated

Not much to say here, it's a short and forgettable song.

Cabinet Battle #2

I don’t like how much Jefferson says “we.” He wasn’t there. He wasn’t a soldier.

“Smells like new money, dresses like fake royalty” Hamilton was known for his colourful clothes, while Jefferson was known for dressing sloppily.

“Lafayette’s a smart man, he’ll be fine.” yeah, uh, he was imprisoned in Austria at the time…

“You’re nothing without Washington behind you.” Hamilton was a very powerful man. One of the most powerful, next to Washington. Even with Washington gone, he still held a lot of power and was pretty well-known.

Washington On Your Side

“Thanks to Hamilton, our cabinet’s fractured into factions.” Hamilton is probably one of the biggest reasons the two-party system exists, but Jefferson did play a role as well. To put it simply, Hamilton and the federalists disagreed so much with Jefferson and the democratic-republicans that everything just got split in two.

“And dresses like the pits of fashion” look at the point from the above song.

“Somebody gives me some dirt on this vacuous mass” it really wasn’t that hard to find dirt on Hamilton. He had a controversial past, and could sometimes be a really shady guy. However, it was all for-- at least in his own head-- good reason.

Because of how close Hamilton and Washington were, Hamilton had a lot of power, and Washington backed him up quite a lot.

James Madison gets so little lines in this show, and it makes me kind of upset. Hamilton and Madison were pretty close friends for a few years, so I don’t know why LMM didn’t talk at all about that.

“This immigrant isn’t somebody we chose” yes, but Washington chose him. Don’t like him? take it up with Washington.

One Last Time

Jefferson did not step “down so he can run for president,” he stepped down to go home. To relax at his mansion, to get away from politics. He stepped down in 1793 and didn’t run for president until 1796.

This song is actually really good, and pretty accurate. And good lord Chris Jackson can sing. Gives me chills every time.

I Know Him

Adams did know King George III. and from what I have read, he was very nervous to meet him.

“That’s that little guy who spoke to me” of course he’s little to the king, the king was like 6’6”.

The Adams Administration

The Adams Pamphlet was published in 1800.

The new york post wasn’t founded until 1801, so I find it odd that they’re bringing it up in this song, in 1797.

Adams did not fire Hamilton, he stepped down on his own in 1795.

Hamilton’s response to Adams’ taunts hurt Hamilton’s reputation a lot more than it hurt Adams’.

We Know

This takes place in 1792 before Adams was president.

Jefferson, Madison and Burr were not the people to confront Hamilton. It was James Monroe, Frederick Muhlenberg, and Abraham Venable.

The whole situation with the speculation of embezzled funds is pretty off from what we see here. What happened was James Reynolds embezzled $500 and tried to get his way out of imprisonment by saying he had dirt on Hamilton. Monroe, Muhlenberg, and Venable went to Hamilton and Hamilton explained “no, I didn’t embezzle government money, I just got my dick sucked.”

“Yes, I have reasons for shame,” yeah you think?

Hurricane

The workshop version is better, and it has Laurens in it.

The Reynolds Pamphlet

Gotta give Hamilton credit for not publishing this until after William S. Hamilton was born and then waiting for the stress of a new baby to be gone. Y’know at least he’s considerate.

Eliza was only gone for the summer of ‘91, so I don’t know why everyone’s acting like she was gone the whole time.

Hamilton didn’t even want to be a president, and never showed any interest in the position.

Angelica was already in America at the time, she didn’t just travel because of the affair.

The king has no reason to be here. I get that he’s the comedic relief, but this isn’t a scene where comedic relief is needed. It’s a serious situation.

“His poor wife” yeah, but have you ever stopped to think about what Mary Lewis is going through?

Burn

“You have ruined our lives.” The ‘our’ is referring to Eliza and Mary Lewis.

Blow Us All Away

George Eaker said many bad things about Hamilton in a fourth of July public speech, but Philip Hamilton didn’t meet him and challenge him to the duel until late November of 1801.

Speaking of 1801, this happens way after the Reynolds affair and the election of 1800.

Hamilton didn’t know that the duel happened. Philip lied and told his father that it had been resolved. Hamilton later found out that it happened when John B. Church and a few others told him after it happened that Philip was shot and dying.

“Everything is legal in New Jersey.” duelling was illegal in some form or another in every state, but the punishment was less severe in New Jersey.

The guns Philip (and his father 3 years later) used in the duel belonged to John B. Church. They were not Hamilton’s guns.

Eaker didn’t shoot on 7. They both counted to 10 and stood still for an awkward minute before Philip raised his gun to fire into the air, and Eacker got scared that Philip would shoot him and shot Philip.

Stay Alive (Reprise)

When Hamilton arrived at the home of dr. David Hosack (the doctor treating Philip) he reportedly fainted from anxiety.

Eliza’s scream should have been Angelica Hamilton, as she had a mental breakdown after the death of her brother, and was arguably (out of the rest of her siblings) the most hurt by his death.

It’s Quiet Uptown

Hamilton was really hurt by the death of his son. It was probably what broke him the most out of every death he’s seen in his life-- and he’s seen a lot.

“I take the children to church on Sunday,” after Philip’s death, Hamilton and his family became a lot more religious.

“His hair has gone grey,” there is a portrait of Hamilton shortly after his son’s death, and he looks like he’s aged 10 years. He looks old and sad and in grief. It barely looks like him.

Eliza would have forgiven Hamilton at this point. She forgave him not too long after the Reynolds pamphlet was published.

The Election of 1800

This happened before Philip’s duel, but you already knew that.

“I’m going door-to-door.” “You’re openly campaigning?” “Sure!” Burr was the first presidential candidate to openly campaign and set the standard for modern American politics.

They were tied for a stupidly long time. And when they finally got untied (by Hamilton and the federalists’ promotions and persuasion) it was by just a few votes. Not “in a landslide.”

Burr did end up being Jefferson’s vice-president. Jefferson didn’t change that.

Your Obedient Servant

This is a situation, much like the Reynolds affair, where no one is in the “right” or the “wrong.” Was it wrong for Burr to shoot Hamilton? Yes, absolutely. Was it wrong for Hamilton to say bad things about Burr and constantly keep him away from what he wanted? Yes, absolutely. But on the other side, was it wrong for Burr to be mad about what Hamilton did? No, he had every right to be angry. Was it wrong for Hamilton to speak his mind? No, freedom of speech and all that. It’s a very fuzzy situation and that’s partly why it’s unclear what exactly happened on the duelling ground.

While Burr’s loss of the elections was a reason for his duel with Hamilton, it was not the main reason. There were a bunch of little things that led up to this. A question I’ve been asked before (quite a few times, honestly) is “if Burr won the election/if Hamilton promoted Burr, would the duel still have happened?” and in my opinion, I think it still would have happened, it would have probably just happened later. Because the duel wasn’t the “breaking point” for Burr, it was just one of those little things that led to it.

Also while I’m on the topic of the election, it happened a few years before the duel. The election of 1800 was on March 4, 1801 (yes, 1801. It was tied for a very long time.) The duel was on July 11, 1804. So not directly afterward.

“Just to keep me from winning.” it is true that Hamilton did not trust Burr to be in power, and did everything he could to stop him.

The workshop version is cooler and more accurate. (if LMM had just kept the workshop version and what was in it I probably wouldn’t be writing TBH)

“I am not the reason no one trusts you,” in a way, yes, Hamilton is the reason no one trusts Burr. Hamilton had a lot of power and a lot of people listened to him. A good example of this would be his role during John Adams’ presidency. Hamilton constantly whispered into Adams’ cabinet members’ ears and basically told them what to do. And they believed him, and did what he said.

“Even if I said what you think I said, you would need to cite a more specific grievance. Here’s an itemized list of 30 years of disagreements.” Hamilton and Burr argued so much and Hamilton said so many bad things about him that when Burr asked him to admit to saying these things Hamilton essentially said “yeah well I’ve said a lot about you so you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific because I don’t know which time you’re referring to.”

Best of Wives, Best of Women

The title (and the line in the song) are a reference to this letter.

Hamilton was not with his wife the night before the duel. He was at a house he had rented in new york city that he stayed in sometimes while away for work. A few of his older sons were with him, though, including John C. Hamilton, who was interviewed many years later and gave a retelling of what happened the night before. You can read it here.

The World Was Wide Enough

“A doctor that he knew” was David Hosak, the same doctor who treated Philip after his duel just 3 years earlier.

“Now, I didn’t know this at the time but we were near the same spot your son died,” I’m fairly sure he knew, Philip’s duel was a pretty big thing and a lot of people knew.

“My fellow soldiers tell you I’m a terrible shot.” Burr was actually a very good shot. There’s even an account of him doing target practice a few days before the duel.

“But look it up, Hamilton was wearing his glasses,” Hamilton put on his glasses because he was old, and had bad vision from his years of service in the revolution, and from how hard he worked. Fun fact, he was facing the rising sun, which meant the sun glared off his glasses, rendering him unable to see clearly. He wouldn’t have been able to shoot Burr if he tried.

“This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” Burr’s daughter, Theodosia, was 22 and married. I’m sure she would be fine. On the other hand, Hamilton’s kids were very young. The oldest, Angelica, was only 19, and the youngest, Philip II, was only 2. These kids all needed a father figure in their life, but apparently, Burr didn’t consider that.

In the lines "Laurens leads a soldiers’ chorus on the other side / My son is on the other side, he's with my mother on the other side / Washington is watching from the other side," it seems like they’re being listed in a very particular order but I’m not sure what it means or why they’re in that order.

Hamilton quotes Laurens’ lines right before he dies and it makes me think of a conversation I had with a friend. She was telling me about how for some time after Laurens’ death, Hamilton didn’t really speak that much in congress and such. At first, I thought “oh it’s because he’s dealing with the death of his closest friend and possible romantic partner,” but then my friend explained that that’s not why he was quiet. It’s because when Laurens was in South Carolina, trying to convince the house of representatives to give him his black battalion, he didn’t talk that much. He waited for everyone else to talk, and then he jumped in and talked. That’s why Hamilton was silent for a lot of the time. He was doing what Laurens did. He was quoting Laurens.

“They row him back across the Hudson, I get a drink.” After shooting Hamilton, Burr went to his cousin’s house as if nothing had happened.

Burr showed seemingly no regret for shooting Hamilton, and even bragged and joked about it for years after.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

“Every other founding father’s story gets told,” it really is kinda sad how little people know about Hamilton. He’s not taught about in school. He wasn’t a president.

I do wish that the musical talked a bit more about Hamilton’s kids and their contribution to keeping Hamilton's story alive. Especially John C. who went through all of his father’s papers and wrote the first biography on him.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I really wish the Laurens-Hamilton relationship was a bigger part of the show.

The actors are amazing, but the people they play have little to no character/personality, and it kinda brings the actors down.

I love Phillipa soo.

There are so many inaccuracies that could have been easily avoided, and I genuinely don’t understand why LMM did some of the things he did. Like there was no reason to make Angelica the love interest. Absolutely no reason. And yet, here we are.

Hamilton, the musical was a great way to make more people interested in history, but unfortunately because of how wrong the show is, a lot of people who gain an interest in history from it think that it’s 100% right and treat it like a documentary. I would know, I became interested in American history because of the musical and I didn’t know how many things were wrong or left out until recently.

The workshop version was better and more accurate.

And that’s it! I’d like to give a big thanks to my friends who helped me, especially my friend Mary.

#gil writes #gil's hamilton musical essay #im actually so proud of this #please dont let this flop

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enochianribs · 3 years

Photo

p r o j e c t l a z a r u s (outlast au) pt 1.

Dean, a supernatural investigative reporter, receives an anonymous tip that something terrible has happened at what is supposed to be the long abandoned Novak Institute. As things quickly go south, Dean finds himself trapped within the rotting halls, pushed further and further in even as he tries to escape. What he discovers underneath the mountain may very well be the death of him.

read on ao3 here | or under the cut.

The tip was anonymous but he’d followed it in good faith. If the lead was anything he’d hoped for, he’d have the story of his lifetime. If it was good. A huge if, but he was getting about that desperate for a big break, especially since he was still competing with Henriksen and Ash. Half of the time he couldn’t figure out where the fuck they were getting such gold mine stories. The bastards.

He parked the Impala outside the gate, a tick of paranoia etching itself in his spine that someone would see him and yank the story out from under him. He debated covering Baby with branches and then realized that there was literally no one around. Outside of the sound of dry leaves blowing across the cracking blacktop and the breeze rustling the dying aspens, there was not a sound.

Feeling stupid, he grabbed his small duffel bag and double checked its contents: his video camera (getting a little outdated with all the new tech but he’d bet his life on its durability), his flip phone (yeah, yeah, he knows), the first aid kit (he always brought it with when he went into abandoned buildings after stepping on that rusty nail that one time), a flashlight, the EMF detector (made it himself), and the switchblade (stolen from his father).

The tools of the trade, if your trade was being insane and stupid and reporting on old urban legends and ghosts and demonic possessions and shit. Y’know, normal stuff. The kinda job you could tell someone about on the first date.

With the contents all accounted for, Dean locked Baby up, shoved his keys into the bag and took a deep breath.

Show time.

Beyond the crumbling brick wall towered the Institute in all of its fading glory, its architecture dated and magnificent even as the clay tile roofing broke and shattered at its base, creating a minefield of broken pieces sharp enough to dig through the tread of his boot if he wasn't careful. The hedges were overgrown and misshapen, and most of the exterior windows were broken. Dean could only assume from local teenagers trashing the place. It must have been beautiful back in the day, a hidden gem among the peaks. Fuckin’ kids.

According to an old newspaper article, the Novak Institute was closed down in 1982 for financial reasons and had been avoided by every sensible local like it was cursed ever since. It was founded in the early 1880s by a man named Charles Shurley with a simple goal: fund and research miracle cures. The stuff of angels, as the word of mouth story went. After his death in 1930, his wealthy in-laws took over and kept his goal in mind as they expanded into even more experimental treatments for all kinds of medical and psychological ailments.

Folks from around the world came to be healed, and the Novaks— Shurley’s in-laws— were damn good at it. They sought to push the boundaries between modern, traditional, and experimental medicine and frequently did so successfully.

In 1970, a woman by the name of Naomi Novak took over the Institute, and (though it had always been a private facility for the wealthy to turn about their health for the better) she privatized the institution completely. Within a year it became a family owned research facility. Rumor was that members of the Novak family suffered from a mysterious condition, one that they kept behind closed doors and drawn curtains and that she was hellbent on finding the fix for it.

From there Dean took every tale he'd scrounged up from the small mountain town down the road with a grain of salt. Urban legends all started somewhere, but along the way they lost the truth, and that was usually where the scary stuff kicked in.

Still, the story went that it had been the wrong direction for the family to take, and they immediately stumbled into financial struggles that eventually dragged the entire thing down around them. In '82 they closed their doors, for good.

Except, two days ago Dean received an encrypted email. Sent out in mass, he suspected. The contents of the email was straight up bizzare— since he'd received it, he'd kept a printed copy tucked into his back pocket, folded up and folded up again until the creases wore thin and threatened to tear.

It was in the mountain. They told me not to look. I did anyway. She told me not to look. By the time I send this, it will be too late. The Novak Institute needs to be burned to the ground. Don’t look. Just light the match and let it go.

Dean’s issue was always the same. Of course he was gonna look. That was kinda his whole job— stick his nose where it shouldn’t go and see what bit it. In fact, he wanted something to bite. That would be his big break. He just had to haul ass the other direction the second something chomped down and pray that he caught it on camera.

So here he was, sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be.

To the left of the main doors sat an armoured convoy. Its doors were closed, and it looked surprisingly free from rust, if it has been sitting there for a couple of decades.

The model of the car was somewhat new, Dean realized.

"Huh," He stopped in front of it, swiping a finger along its hood. Inspecting the pad for dust, it came away blank. His finger barely left a trail. The vehicle was spotless. It couldn't have been sitting there longer than a day with the way the wind swept dust across the open courtyard. "Weird."

The convoy should have been his first red flag, so scarlet it must have been dyed fresh with blood. It wasn't.

Dean pulled one of the ornate handles on the front door, but it didn't give an inch. They were made of a solid piece of wood, heavy duty. There was something vaguely fortified about the place. Hospitals had welcoming doors, encouraging people to come and get better. These, Dean could tell by the massive iron hinges they hung from, were bolted shut from the inside.

Dean tried the other handle just in case. Nothing. He sighed, and tugged out his phone. 4:10 PM. One bar of signal that kept flashing in and out of existence. In October, the sun would be going down soon…and he was only supposed to be checking it out today. His plan was to come back at sunrise for a full day of sunlight and investigation.

Down the expanse of shattered windows, a piece of glass skittered out across the cobblestone. His head jerked up and instinctually, he called out a inquisitive "Hello?"

No one answered, but he heard, with straining ears, what sounded like footsteps shuffling further into the building.

What if someone had beat him here? He hadn't been the only person the email was sent to. There was a chance that coming back tomorrow meant he lost the story to someone else. Henriksen would never let him hear the end of that. Dean had boasted that he had something big, had left in the middle of the night to get here before anyone else. No, he was not going to let Henriksen win another bet against Ash.

Almost drowned out by the sound of the continued breeze, Dean heard a door slam shut inside the Institute. A stone sank past the bottom of his stomach down to the floor. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and the insidious feeling that someone was watching him crept around his psyche until he had no choice but to look back over his shoulder. The courtyard remained the same: desolate, abandoned.

"Fuck it."

He should've pulled his switchblade out, just in case, but he settled on the flashlight, fingers wrapping around it tightly. The light was really starting to die beyond the snowy backdrop, warm sunlight fading into a sickly orange glow that bathed everything in sight.

"Just one room." Dean muttered to himself, and shouldered the bag, brandishing the flashlight with a grimace.

This was a stupid idea.

Like a statuette too close to the end of a table, Dean hoisted himself carefully over the edge of broken glass and hopped into the room blind. Darkness greeted him, enveloped him in an unknown that would consume him and spit a cracked reflection back out. All it would take was a little push in the wrong direction to send him toppling to the floor.

The halls of Novak Institute were filled with hands just itching for something to break.

#mine #*#YEEHAW #did i repurpose my old monstrous edits?#yes #but tbh the edits were made with this specific AU in mind anyways so i don't even feel bad about it #also because they FUCK #project lazarus

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amariaamaris · 3 years

Text

Of Dragon Injuries and Weasleys

I’m planning on this just being a short one-shot. This idea randomly popped in my head upon seeing a mood board for a Harry Potter character ship (Hermione and Charlie). I don’t know for sure how well it will work, but I’m hopeful! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this crossover ship! Let me know if you would like another installment of something like this one-shot! Happy reading!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her travels land her in Romania. She finds that out of all the places she been to and seen, Romania is most definitely her favorite one. She can practically taste the magic in the mountain air and their architecture is breathtaking. Although she only spent two days to gather supplies in the city, she still took a few moments to appreciate the beauty.

An extremely loud and deep rumbling sound had her twisting around to look at the mountain. The woman knows that by now she should just stay away from anything that spells trouble, but she can’t stop herself from going to investigate. She comes upon a clearing with a pond, but what causes her to stop and hide behind one of the trees is the fact that right before her eyes is a HUGE DRAGON.

She is well aware that her jaw has dropped and she absentmindedly thinks about what a certain blue-eyed vampire’s reaction would have been. She allows her eyes to take in the landscape as her magic slowly unfurls from her and curls around the area to check for any threats. For some reason she nor her magic sees the dragon as a threat (even though it’s insane that she doesn’t see it as a threat, she chooses to ignore it for now).

She quickly takes notice of a group of people slowly sneaking up on the dragon as it lets out a low growl. The woman’s eyes snap from the people to the dragon and takes notice of the injuries that it has. She looks back at the group of people and sees strikingly long red hair attached to a burly body. She carefully allows her magic to feel out the group and finds that their intention is to help the dragon.

The woman nearly snorts as she goes back to studying the dragon... there is no way in hell that dragon is letting those people near it. Her assessment is proven correct when it lets out a plume of flames towards the group of males when they go a little to close. There is a short exclamation from one of the men and she watches as one of them lifts - what is that? A... twig? Her head tilts as she looks at it and watches as a light comes out of it shielding the group from the fire. Her eyebrows raise as she realizes it’s a wand.

Biting her lips as she studies the situation, her eyes darting between the dragon and the group of males desperately trying to help the poor thing. She shifts her weight from side to side, she can’t decide what she wants to do. She desperately wants to help the dragon, but she’s more worried about how the men would react to her (which again, ridiculous that she’s more wary of the men than the dragon).

The woman has gotten to the point where she can practically feel the dragon’s pain and panic as she watches it. She allows her eyes to run over the dragons body again and realizes with a jolt, that it’s stomach is distended. Her eyes shoot to the group then to the dragons eyes and what she sees in the dragons eyes cause her to throw caution to the wind.

Before she can talk herself out of it, her legs already have her sprinting into the clearing straight for the dragon. The group of men immediately take notice of her, yelling out for her to stop. All she does is say a quiet “Motus” as she flicks her hand their way. Causing all of them to go flying backwards, their commotion causes the dragon to look towards her.

The low growl that comes from it sent vibrations through the ground that were so strong, she stumbled a bit. Before it can gather the energy to spit fire at her, the woman reaches out to the dragon with her magic. Allowing for it to make of her what it will, causing both of them to completely stop moving. She can feel the men watching on baited breath while also trying to slowly make their way to their feet.

She holds up a hand in their direction, wordlessly telling them to stop moving; as she does she takes notice of the dragons wild magic. She can’t help but be in awe of the majestic creature in front of her as she carefully moves closer. “I promise I won’t harm you, I just want to heal you” She whispered as the dragon let out a low rumble and lowered its head for her to run her hand along the scales.

The woman slowly closes her eyes as she puts her forehead against the dragons snout. Meanwhile the group of males are gaping, the red haired one can’t stop himself from inching forward. He wanted to get closer, he wanted to talk to the nymph like woman that was able to throw all of them with a flick of her hand, he also wanted to get closer to young Norberta.

Charlie Weasley could tell that Norberta was injured and in pain, which also meant that her survival instincts are ruling her. So if the little nymph of a woman made any sudden movements she could get torched. When Charlie got within four feet of them, they both jerk their heads to look at him. It causes Charlie to freeze and put his hands up, he opens his mouth to say something- anything. He finds that he as lost hit ability to speak, his entire body goes tense when they narrow their eyes in tandem.

Charlie takes a stumbling step back when the nymph took a step forward. Her voice washes over him and it feels as though he is drowning. Charlie Weasley finds himself jerking out of it when his brain processes the word he heard her say and seeing Norberta gathering herself to spit fire. “Incendia” That word causes him to yell out and turn to face the men that came here with him - his brothers in everything but blood - and finds then completely untouched by flames.

He barely take notice of pained screams coming from behind them through the rushing of blood in his ears and from what he can make out through the flames... they were death eaters that had escaped the Aurors after Voldemort fell. When he finally pulls his eyes to the flames to see where the small yet powerful woman was; the woman is moving around Norberta, calmly healing her injuries. Charlie exchanges looks with the others as they all continue to watch this strange woman interact with Norberta.

Charlie’s eyes widen as he watches her carefully rub her hands along Norberta’s stomach; causing the norwegian ridgeback to make a purring sound. His eyes narrow a bit as she moves to Norberta’s head and he makes out her quiet voice. “It’s okay mama, your baby is just fine.” Charlie’s eye widen and he can’t stop his outburst, “Mama? Norberta can’t be pregnant, we’ve kept her away from males during her heat! How do you know for sure whether or not she is?”

He watches as the woman turns to face him and gives him an unimpressed look which strangely makes him feel chastised and smaller than her. She continues to slowly stroke Norberta neck and head as she talks. “Last time I checked, sperm can stay alive in the womb of females for at least a week. She didn’t have to be in heat during whatever intercourse she would have had with another dragon. It would have fertilized her baby or babies none the less. Also... Norberta? Really?” Charlie blinks a couple of times at her as the other handlers chuckle as they come up beside Charlie.

One of them drops a hand on his shoulder, “She’s got you there mate!” Charlie lets out a huff of annoyance. “Care to tell us your name nymph? Her name is a long story involving a well meaning half giant, my youngest brother, and his two friends.”

His response causes her to pause in her stroking and raise a brow, “Nymph?” he hears a small huff come from her as she shakes her head choosing to ignore what he said after and goes back to stroking Norberta. “My name really isn’t any of your concern, I just saved your lives and helped your dragon. I owe you nothing, I stopped owing people a long time ago... not that I ever actually owed anyone anything.” They all hear the slight scoff after her last words. Charlie could have sworn he heard her mutter “Hindsight's a bitch.” causing him to let out a cough.

“Look, how about you come back to the reserve with us and help us get Norberta back to safety and we can talk this out? What do you say dragă?” He watches as the woman turns to study all of them and watches as the breath she pushes out moves a piece of her hair out of her face. Finally, she nods her acceptance and steps away from Norberta. Charlie walks forward and holds out a hand to her. “I’m Charlie Weasley, care to tell me your name nymph? Or would you prefer dragă?”

She briefly glares at him and grudgingly takes his warm callused hands which leads to a deliciously muscled and tattoo--- no! The woman quickly shakes herself and responds. “Bonnie Bennett, nice to meet you Charles.”

#crossover #bonnie bennett #charlie weasley #dragon reserve #norberta is a protective mama #after the vampire diaries #harry potter

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365days365movies · 3 years

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February 3, 2021: Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

The year: 1986. A small new fictionation is founded as part of a disparate group of similar territories. Near to another civilization founded by Woody Allen (we’ll get to him later this month, whoof), a new settlement was founded by one Nora Ephron. It began with Heartburn, a rom-com starring Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. While it was somewhat successful, it wasn’t exactly a dynamo by any means. And that is when Nora met the future Empress of her fictonation.

Her name was Meg Ryan, and the film...was When Harry Met Sally.

Ephron only wrote this film, rather than direct it. But it didn’t matter, as this film was CRAZY successful (and I’ll be watching it later this month). Some years past, and both Ryan and Ephron rose in power. Ephron became a director, Ryan became a movie star, and the two pillars would reunite for greater things. And THAT is when the future Empress met her Emperor.

Enter Joe vs. the Volcano, where Meg Ryan...met Tom Hanks.

Now, was this movie amazing? No, not from what I’ve heard. But the two new co-stars apparently made an impression on Hollywood at this point, as their respective stars would only grow brighter. And so, when 1993 came along, the three pillars finally met, and ascended to their true roles as the rulers of a now united Holy Romance Empire. And that film...was Sleepless in Seattle.

Time to witness a nation RISE. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start where all romantic comedies should start: at a Chicago graveyard!

Architect Sam Baldwin’s (Tom Hanks) wife, Maggie, has sadly passed away, leaving Sam and their son, Jonah (Ross Malinger). Sam’s clearly broken, understandably, and he decides to move from Chicago in order to leave behind the bittersweet memories of his wife. And where he’s headed? You know where.

Jimmy Durante’s rendition of “As Time Goes By”

Jimmy Durante sings us in (I love this song, for the record), and we head not to Seattle, but to Baltimore, 18 months afterwards. There, reporter Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) is going to a Christmas party with her new fiancée, Walter Jackson (Bill Pullman), which is announced to great aplomb at the party. Her brother Dennis is played by Niles from Frasier (David Hyde Pierce), and I nearly spit out my sandwich.

That night, Annie’s mother gives her her old wedding dress, and have a VERY frank conversation about their sexual relationships. It is...awkward. Anyway, the dress tears, which Annie sees as a sign. In any case, she still seems happy...I think. On the way to Walter’s parents’ place, she tunes into a radio talk show, where a child is making a Christmas wish to the station.

This child is, of course, Jonah, calling on behalf of his father from Seattle. He tells the host, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone (Caroline Aaron), that his father is lonely after his wife’s death, and that he wishes he had a new wife. She convinces Jonah to put him on the phone, and while he’s reluctant to do so (understandably), he accepts. All the while, Annie’s listening, and seems to sympathize deeply with him and his sarcastic responses.

However, Sam begins to open up, and Dr. Fieldstone christens him “Sleepless in Seattle,” after the fact that he doesn’t sleep much at all these days. His story resonates with a number of people, Annie included. A few people call in to respond to him, and at the end of the call, he describes how much and why he misses his wife. And I gotta be honest, I’m with Annie here. It is...very moving.

Damn you, Tom Hanks, it’s only 20 minutes in, why are you already making me FEEEEEEL?

The next day, it’s a splash, and over 2,000 women call in in response to this. This is discounted by her co-worker and friend, Becky (Rosie O’Donnell). At the New Year’s party soon after, she and Walter make a date to meet in New York City, and register for their eventual wedding. Meanwhile, Sam tucks Jonah in to sleep, as Nat King Cole serenades us (I ALSO love Nat King Cole, real talk) and Sam stares at the fireworks off of his houseboat.

And, mentally haunted by the ghost of his wife, he’s seemingly literally haunted by the ghost of his wife, Maggie (Carey Lowell). The next morning, he goes to help a client, Barbara (Dana Ivey), and his co-worker Jay Matthews (Rob Reiner) with a house, and finds out that everybody knows who he is at this point. Additionally, Jonah also give the radio station their address, and MANY women are now soliciting Sam, including...his third-grade teacher. Ew. EW.

Sam and Jonah next have a talk about whether or not a prospective new wife would have sex with Sam, and I wonder if sexual conversations with your parents are supposed to be this common, or if I’m just crazy. Because me and my Dad? Nuh-uh. And no worries if your relationship with your folks is like this, but mine DEFINITELY IS NOT, lemme tell you.

Annie and Walter prepare for bed, and Ray Charles sings them to sleep, followed by Carly Simon talking about the wee small hours of the morning. During those hours, Annie gets up, also unable to sleep, and turns on the Dr. Marcia Fieldstone show. During the highlight reel for the show, Disappointed in Denver notes that:

Everytime I come close to orgasm, he goes and makes himself a sandwich.

...Wow. Um. Asshole? And then Marcia tells her to make a sandwich for him beforehand, WHICH IS NOT SOLVING THE PROBLEM. Anyway, Sam is also featured in that highlight reel, and Annie cries again as he talks about his wife, and it’s a disproportionately long excerpt compared to the others, what the hell? Marooned in Miami is DISAPPOINTED now.

Annie goes to meet her brother Niles (he’s basically Niles from Frasier, seriously) the next day, and explains that she’s fantasizing about Sam, a man she’s never even MET. She’s also feeling doubt about her upcoming marriage, which is...interesting. I’ll get to that later. In Seattle, meanwhile, Sam asks Jay what it’s like as a single man in Seattle, and they have a conversation about how cute Sam’s butt is. Nice.

Upon the realization that his 9-year old son is hanging out with more girls than he is (yeah, there’s a kid named Jessica hanging out with him when Sam gets home, it’s awkward), Sam’s back in the saddle again (as the song indicates; that said, goddamn is the music choice on the nose sometimes, seriously). He calls a woman named Victoria (Barbara Garrick), and asks her out on a date.

Annie’s watching the movie An Affair to Remember (lateeeeeer) at Becky’s, as she’s lamenting her fixation on Sam, while also struggling to fully understand how she feels about Walter. Becky RIGHTFULLY accuses her of believing in Hollywood, movie love, which is demonstrated by Annie’s meaningless platitudes about her supposed love for Walter. This is while she’s writing a letter to Sam, then aborts it when she realizes what she’s doing. She sits on the couch with Becky, they mouth the words together in the movie, and they cry while I laugh, because that was funny.

Things aren’t as jovial for Sam and Jonah, as Jonah’s had a nightmare, and the two reminisce over missing their mother. Sam notes that Maggie could peel an apple in one long...curly...strip. You mean...like Annie was doing earlier? I see what you did there, movie. I see what you did there. As if to compound their invisible connection, both of them sit on a dock, staring into two separate oceans at night.

Sam proceeds to write a story for the paper on “Sleepless in Seattle,” and through some...mildly creepy personal invasion, she finds his address in Seattle, and a hell of a lot more personal information. Like I said, it’s a little creepy. Sam, meanwhile, is going on a date with Victoria, when Jonah opens a letter...from Annie.

Annie. What’re you doin’?

Jonah appears to IMMEDIATELY ship the two, but Sam quotes the coast-to-coast distance as being a bit too much, and goes on the date with Victoria. While on the date, Jonah tries to hook Sam up with Annie by getting him to agree to take them to New York City on Valentine’s Day. Damn, Jonah, you lookin’ to escape a whale, because you are BUILDING A GODDAMN SHIP

Victoria, a woman with an amazingly obnoxious laugh, does not rub off well on Jonah, or me, or my girlfriend. I’m really hoping that somehow, in SOME WAY, Victoria and Walter get together. He’s boring, she’s obnoxious, who knows? They might like each other. My ship...is being built.

Jonah, meanwhile, is TAKING THE FUCKING WHEEL of this ship. He calls the radio station once again, and Annie is alerted to this by Becky. She wakes up, punching Walter in the process (dude gets HURT), and goes downstairs to listen. Jonah’s telling the station that Victoria SUUUUUCKS, and straight up calls her “a ho.” He hangs up abruptly, and screams to stop his father from kissing Victoria. Annie, meanwhile, listens to this in the closet for some reason.

The next day, Jonah’s friend, Jessica, tells Jonah to send a letter to Annie on his father’s behalf. Meanwhile, Annie flies to Seattle in the guise of doing a story, when she’s actually going to try and meet Sam. Victoria, meanwhile, is leaving from the airport, where Sam and Jonah are seeing her off. Victoria basically implies that she’d like to ditch the kid and go fuck someplace sometime, which might FINALLY rub Sam the wrong way.

Sam talks to Jonah about the fact that he’s dating Victoria, not marrying her, and that she might not be the one for him. He also says that there’s no such thing as soul-

-mates.

Yeah, they actually did just do that. Sam loses Annie at the airport, after immediately chasing after her. They’re perfect for each other, as Annie goes RIGHT to Sam’s houseboat address. She hangs around the neighborhood, and sees them having fun on the beach together as Harry Connick Jr. plays in the background. That night, she confides in Becky about her guilt in lying to Walter.

And if I can just say this...yeah, THAT isn’t great. I get that there’s some cinematic paegentry to the whole thing, but, like...tell your FIANCEE about your FEELINGS. It’s hard, yeah, duh, but YOU GOTTA DO IT. You most certainly owe it to Walter. At least she appears to know it, though.

Annie at the hotel

The next day, Annie goes once again to weirdly spy on Jonah, and sees him hug a woman very happily, and of course believes that that’s Victoria. However, this is his friend, Suzy (Rita Wilson), who’s visiting with her husband, Greg (Victor Garber). In any case, this leads to Sam and Annie seeing each other for the first time. He says hello. She says hello. Then she almost gets hit by a taxi, and she IMMEDIATELY flies back home WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUH

We find this out later, but the taxi and the fact that all she could say was “Hello” is actually all a reference to the film seen earlier, An Affair to Remember (again, later this month). This is also part of the repeating motif that this film has: signs. Y’know, the kind of “IT’S A SIGN” thing. However, the real twist here is that the signs are the ones that they can’t see. Like the apple and the hello thing. Not yet, anyway.

Also, dear lord, An Affair to Remember is just making EVERY woman in the film cry, even when they’re TALKING about it. And every time, the men just look at each other like “WOMEN, with their EMOTIONS and their VAGOOOOOOS.” Jesus, ‘90s movies. Even JESSICA (Gaby Hoffman), Jonah’s friend, the LITTLE GIRL, is crying at this movie. JESUS, I’m really interested in seeing this movie now.

Jessica and Jonah start conspiring on how to get to New York to meet Annie, and do so by FAKING AIRLINE TICKETS OK THEN. Meanwhile, Annie’s given up on the whole “Sleepless in Seattle” thing, and goes to meet Walter for their Valentine’s date in NYC. Walter rightfully comments that Annie’s seemed distant, and here’s the thing: Walter deserves better than this. Yeah, he’s BORING AS SHIT, but the dude’s committed to her, and she’s amazingly flaky in comparison. I dunno, maybe it’s because it’s Bill Pullman, but I feel bad for him.

Anyway, in New York, the two begin to rekindle their relationship, and Walter gets a ring for her at FUCKING TIFFANY’S HOLY SHIT. Meanwhile, Sam’s THIRSTY AS FUUUUUUUCK, and is leaving to spend the weekend with Victoria, which Jonah is NOT a fan of. This ship is gonna SAIL if JONAH HAS TO FLY TO NEW YORK CITY HIMSELF

So, Jonah flies to New York City himself, in order to...meet his new mother. This movie has some VERY interesting issues, Jesus. Jonah does, indeed go to the top of the Empire State Building to look for Annie, and he asks all the girls on the Observation Deck if they’re Annie. Which, of course, none of them are. Why?

Annie’s at dinner, that’s why, and at the FUCKING RAINBOW ROOM DEAR LORD HOW MUCH MONEY DOES WALTER MAKE? Sam also makes his way to New York, probably to DESTROY HIS CHILD

And at dinner, Annie actually redeems herself by telling Walter the ENTIRE TRUTH about her feelings, and about “Sleepless in Seattle.” And Walter is a CLASSY-ASS GUY ABOUT THE ENTIRE THING, and the two break off their engagement amicably. Annie says that she doesn’t deserve Walter, and BY GOD SHE’S RIGHT. Walter’s a sweet dude. And as soon as they break up...a sign.

Sam finds Jonah on the Observation Deck, and the two tearfully reunite. And as they two unite, and everybody else leaves the Observation Deck as it closes for the night, Annie rushes on her way there. An Affair to Remember is invoked one last time, as Annie convinces the guard to let her up there. But, OF GODDAMN COURSE...she goes up in one elevator, and Sam and Jonah head down in another.

But wait. Isn’t that Jonah’s backpack on the ground of the Observation Deck?

youtube

Yup. THERE’S the happy ending we’re lookin’ for. They finally formally introduce each other, and Sam says that they’d better leave...ALL of them, together. Love at first sight. PLAY US OUT JIMMY DURANTE!!!! And yeah, I know that Celine Dion sings the end credits song, but NOPE! TAKE ME AWAY, JIMMY! MAKE ME HAPPY!

And that was Sleepless in Seattle! And again, I liked it! I’ll get more into it during the Review!

#sleepless in seattle #nora ephron #tom hanks #meg ryan #rosie o'donnell #bill pullman #ross malinger #romance february #romance movie #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365

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arandompostarchive · 3 years

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SALEM - Ch. 20

SAVED WORK

Summary: In all the centuries of your existence, you had never been dragged out of hiding by another god, put in a superhero team and forced to save the universe. But it seems your luck has run out.

_____________

***

You slammed the door open, covered in the blood of the townspeople after you had left Y/n go. You had walked back through town and quickly realized you didn’t see your father there.

Maybe he got a conscious and decided to leave, you thought. But you also knew that your father had no morals. He was planning to burn you for weeks now, why would he change his mind at the last moment. So, you stalked toward his house, your dress burned and soaked with blood.

Your shoes had holes in them, you could feel how the leather had shrunk and curled in the burning wood. Your underskirt was only knee-length now, and the blood was slowly drying against your legs, making walking a less than comfortable experience.

The fact that your father lived close to the center of town was one of the small mercies you felt that day. You knocked slowly at the door, waiting for your father to answer. He opened the door slowly, a piece of tobacco in his mouth.

You always thought you looked more like your mother, from the small portrait your father kept of her and the few memories you had retained of her image. Her skin was closer to yours, her eyes the same shape, her face structure seemed to match yours as well. Your father, on the other hand, was different. His skin was lighter than yours, his straight gray hair fell down from under a cap he wore almost every day. He worked in the courthouse, presenting cases, and because of that hadn’t seen a drop of sun in years. His eyes were sunken into his head. They always were, but now the dark bags underneath them seemed more prominent. Wrinkles scattered his skin, making him look much older than he was. You were sure there was a freckle or two on his cheeks, but you never got a close look. It’s not like the two of you had ever gotten to spend quality time together. A small, loving part of you was sad that you never would. The rest of you, however, was prepared to splatter the walls of your home—no, his home— with his blood.

His eyes widened when he saw you. He took a step back, tripping over something behind him and losing his footing. He didn’t get up at first, choosing to stare blankly at your figure.

“What the hell?” The question was so quiet under his breath that you almost didn’t hear it. The tobacco hug on the edge of his lip, threatening to fall at any moment. He pulled himself up on a nearby chair, composing himself and dusting off his shirt. He spit the tobacco on the floor next to him. You cringed, remembering how you’d had to clean it many nights whenever he went to bed. Otherwise, your entire home would stink of it and the smell made you nauseous.

“You’re driving yourself to madness, Charles. Circe is dead, nothing but cinders. Let her be and the specter will go. He whispered. “She is just a vision, a reminder of your sins.” He mumbled other words under his breath, but you didn’t care about what he had to say. Not unless it was an apology, and even then, you still planned for his blood to run along the floor panels. You walked in the room, letting him rant quietly to himself. It seemed he had gotten fairly unstable in the time you’d been imprisoned.

“I’m far from dead, Father.” You began, “In fact, I doubt I have ever felt more alive than I do now.” Your newfound abilities had caused your eyes to darken. Of course, you weren’t aware of this at the time, but your father was terrified of the black veins spreading out from your eyes, pulsing as you let smoke roll down your hands. He saw small dots within your eyes, ones he had seen only once on the face of his wife. He thought they were beautiful, now he feared them.

The feeling was beautiful. The pure power coursing through your veins. You had never felt anything so addicting. It was like your body was reborn. Like the fire had burned away everything that was holding you back. You grinned at it, the grin of a psychopath holding their first blade.

“You’re dead, Circe, dead. You burned by the hands of the townsfolk, my own friends and blood.” You scoffed at his exclamation.

“You did not witness this. You did not bother to even stay.” You move closer to him and shut the door behind you. There were people who hadn’t gone to the burnings. You were sure none of them would come out of their homes no matter what screams they heard, but you weren’t about to kill innocents. You couldn’t be sure if those people were involved in Y/n’s death.

He didn’t respond to your accusation. Instead of looking around the room, likely trying to find some exit or a weapon of some sort. You knew this house, though. The closest thing to a weapon was the pans you used to cook, and the only exit the door behind you. Or the windows, if absolutely necessary.

“You did not help me. You did not help her. And believe me, father… you will regret that decision.” Your words came out harshly as if the weapons were the torture you intended to give him. Luckily, you planned to do much worse than that. Well, it was lucky for you, not for him.

You took a few fast steps, wrapping your hand tight against his throat and bringing him to the nearest wall, pinning him there. A few days ago, lifting a full-grown man would’ve taken great effort, but now, it felt more like carrying a basket.

You marveled at the feeling of him moving under your skin, trying to reach your hand. The strangled noises he made were music. Especially since you’d been waiting to hear them for so long. The sounds of his pain. A few months ago you would’ve frowned at this, found the violence disgusting. But after all you’d been through? You felt it wasn’t enough.

“Say it.” You said, your voice soft and calm, which was scarier than you yelling. He said something from under your hand. The grip on his throat made his words sound more like jumbled noises, but you swore he asked you what you meant. You only sighed. “Give me a full apology. You did nothing while me and my closest friend when we were faced with a murder charge. You know damn well I wouldn’t use my powers in the town and she was perfectly innocent. She had done nothing and you let her burn with all the other women. And you call yourself a ‘man of god’.” You questioned, letting your disgust seep into your words. He marries a goddess, yet still insisted on being a man of the church.

You let him fall down the wall, still keeping your hand against his throat, though it was loose enough for him to speak. “I’m sorry, Circe. I’m your father, please. Have some mercy!” You could feel his tears against your hand. You’d never seen him cry, this felt like an accomplishment.

“Did you show me mercy?” You asked. He slowly shook his head.

“Please, you are my flesh and blood! I never wanted to harm you. Release me, we can talk. Please.” You rolled your eyes. He felt no remorse. He was just a sniveling coward who wanted to live.

“You feel nothing. You could have helped me and you made no effort. I hope you suffer in Tartarus.”

You gripped his throat tightly once again, drowning out whatever cries of apology he had left to offer. Using the hand on his throat for support, you gripped his right arm, ripping it clean off. You felt someone behind you. Not a human, far from human. The smallest part of your mind hoped it was Loki, it felt godly enough. You switched your arms, momentarily letting him catch a breath. Then you ripped off his other arm, his blood splattering on your clothes. Your underskirt now looked more red with splashes of white than the other way around. You didn’t mind it.

You removed your hand from his throat, letting his screams echo in the small house. He fell before you, rolling in agony. You only laughed. You put your foot on his chest, holding him in place. His screams quieted to whimpers as he stared up at you, too in pain to speak.

“Say hello to Mother for me.” You said, pushing down hard on his chest. You heard him scream and felt bones break beneath your foot. You raised your foot again, this time driving what was left of your heel through his chest, your foot embedded in the open, blood-filled cavity. You slowly took your foot out. Your heel had gotten caught on something or other, so you pulled your foot out without the shoe. You were left in a tattered underdress, dripping with blood, your stockings burned away to nothing and one shoe. You turned around to face whoever was watching you. Praying it was Loki. Hoping he wouldn’t hate you now. Wouldn’t think you were a disgusting monster with black, pulsing eyes. You were something out of a nightmare.

Instead, you were met with an odd-looking woman. You tried not to let her see your shoulders sink. She laughed, you weren’t sure if it was at you or with you.

“Not bad, that man deserved it, believe me. If I’m not wrong, you’re one of us now, yes?” Her voice reminded you of blood splashed on walls. The blood that coated the floors beneath you. It felt like she should be accompanied by screams. “Follow me.” She opened up what looked like a black hole in your house. It was a large rectangle, like a door, but there was nothing but darkness in it.

“What’s going on?” You asked, accepting that this was just another part of your day.

“I was called here because of how you were killing that mortal. But I recognize you, you’re a god now. Your mortal half burned. Now, it’s time for a family reunion.” She beckoned you forward. You were still completely lost, but at this rate, anything goes. You walked across the room, standing next to her, prepared to walk into the dark abyss before you.

“What’s your name?” You asked, not even turning to look at her. She laughed. It was an odd sound. It felt entirely unused. Like she had never let a genuine laugh out of her lips. I reminded you of swords sharpening and axes swinging. Like a million screams from the depths.

“Ker, darling.”

***

You had a plan.

Not a good plan, mind you, but it was a plan.

Jump down, drag Moros away from the console by his neck, and use one of the countless weapons covering the ground (wall? The ship was basically on its side at this point) and stab him one more time for good measure.

Unfortunately for you, the window wasn’t able to support you and Moros both jumping on it. Maybe it was the giant axe that had cracked it?

Looking back, you probably could’ve been smarter about that. But, hey. It’s not like you were known for your well thought out plans.

There was air rushing past you, Moros’ neck still in your hand. You were pretty high up, but that didn’t mean you had as much time as you liked.

Moros was saying something, but your tight grip on his neck was cutting off his airflow. It wasn’t just the two of you in the air though. There were a few bodies that had fallen when the ship had tilted, as well as weapons from fallen soldiers. You spotted a dagger falling with you. It was above you, but with a little stretch, you reached it.

You looked down at Moros, his face stoic and calm. He had accepted his death the moment he tilted the ship. That, you could respect.

“I gave you a chance, Brother. No one can say I didn’t.” You said. You gripped the dagger in your hand, more than eager to end your fight. You pressed it into his skin, drawing blood beneath it. You could see his eyes slightly widen, perhaps he was expecting something quicker.

You didn’t like murder. You didn’t like the idea of killing people who didn’t need to be killed. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t slightly relieved to be rid of Moros.

With some force, you drove the dagger fully into his neck, completely cutting through it. You cut fully through the left side of his neck, leaving only a small amount of muscle attached on the right side. His head was now loosely attached, only holding on by the thin skin and muscle still attached to his body. You didn’t bother staring too long. You were sure you’d have to apologize to your mother for killing two of your siblings, she might not be too happy about that.

Now that you had tossed your brother aside, content with his current state, you could focus on the low-level terror of plummeting through the sky. Now you felt the cool air against your open skin, something you were learning to hate. You tried your best to summon a spell of any kind, just to fly or save yourself. But you were weaker than you’d like to admit. Most of your abilities were going toward not passing out, so you simply waited.

Part of you was concerned. In all fairness, you were falling from gods know how high on the streets of New York City. The other part was praying that Tony was still paying attention.

You looked above you toward the ship and saw it slowly tilting back to its rightful position. You smiled, thankful that Thor, Loki, and Mios had gotten through the numerous bodies and weapons around them to set the ship back to the correct position.

You could see things falling around you, and you figured now was probably the time to try and find something to help you. Through the mess of swords, you spotted one of Tony’s coms. Using a small amount of your magic, you brought it over to you. You put it in your ear before shouting over the wind.

“Hello?!” You screamed. “Don’t really have much time here!” You heard static over it, but someone responded.

“Kid? What the hell is happening up there?” You recognized Tony’s voice. Usually, you would’ve found time to yell at him for calling you a kid, but you could do that later. Assuming there was a later.

“I doubt I’ll be able to talk for a good while after this, I’ll be pretty injured. Not looking forward to it.” You had no idea how high you were at this point, it just felt like a huge rush of air. But you were slowly realizing that you were much higher than you thought.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m kinda falling here, Tony. I can see you from here. I think that’s you at least. You’re way too far, so don’t bother. I’ll be okay, it’ll just take a long time to heal.”

“Falling? Out of the ship? What the hell?”

“Tony. I’m fine. We killed Moros. You need to go make sure Loki and Thor are alright. Don’t come find me until later, make sure you can save as many people as possible, even soldiers. I’ll be fine.”

“Listen, Queenie, where are you.”

“Queenie?”

“Well, you are kinda ordering me around right now.”

You laughed a bit, “I like that one.”

“…I guess we’ll keep it then.”

You were almost sure you heard Tony say something after that, but it was drowned out by static. You pulled the com from your ear, cursing when you saw it was your broken one. Of course, it was.

You sighed and closed your eyes. You could still feel the injury in your chest, liquid still coating the suit Tony had made you. You’d remember to apologize later, you were a bit busy at the moment. You waited to feel either the crash of the sidewalk. In all probability, you’d survive the fall, although you’d certainly have some nasty damage left over. But still, this kind of fall? You could expect weeks of pain, something you were very interested in avoiding.

You kept your arms wrapped tight around yourself. If you didn’t know you might be falling thousands of feet into the sidewalk, you would actually enjoy the intense wind brushing against your face.

Until you felt the wind quickly stop around you. Still, you kept your eyes shut tight. And then you felt it below you: solid ground. Well, perhaps ‘ground’ wasn’t the right word. You were sitting down on some sort of soft, velvety fabric. It felt soft and plush under you, like one of Tony’s nicer couches. It hadn’t been accompanied by the sickening crunch sound of your bones, so you were left confused.

Opening your eyes, you were in a large, darkly colored room. It reminded you of a planetarium, the sun, moon, and stars plastered on the walls around you, you even saw a pentacle or two. The room was circular, dark paint on most of the walls with silver highlights. On the ceiling was a crescent moon. You smiled warmly at the familiar aesthetic of the room.

You shifted on the couch, minding the wound still in your abdomen.

“Careful now, darling.” You’d recognize the silky smooth voice from anywhere. It reminded you of a cool night’s breeze or an owl hooting after dark. The beautiful sounds of crickets chirping under the stars. “I’d rather not see three of my children die this week, hm?” Your mother asked, sitting on the couch facing opposite you.

You looked down at her comment, feeling more like a child receiving a grounding than a woman accused of murdering her siblings. You lightly nodded, taking the jab from your mother.

She was a beautiful woman. The term ‘goddess’ fit her without a doubt. She shared a similar complexion, though darker and with much curlier hair. It fell over her shoulders in a pitch-black color, there were small dots of light throughout it, which surely would’ve entranced any mortal.

Her dress was clearly greek and resembled a toga. It was black instead of the more common white color and she had silver bands on her arms, contrasting the usual gold ones. Her eyes though. Her eyes were what always made you stop. They were gorgeous. They were pitch black and dotted with a million tiny stars. It looked like there was a whole universe in them, and you wouldn’t be surprised if there really was. You could the light of those stars twinkle, even from several feet away. Your eyes were similar to your mom’s, but you knew they weren’t anywhere near as beautiful.

Looking down at yourself you noticed your mother had given you a change of clothes. You had a toga similar to hers on. Your hair was decorated with queen of the night flowers and moonflowers. You thought it was a little on brand, but their purple color looked nice, so you let it go. You were slightly worried about explaining how you had managed to change into a greek toga complete with silver bands to your friends, but that was a conversation for later.

“I thought you’d like it. Couldn’t have you wearing that odd suit.” You were about to ask about the suit, knowing Tony had worked hard on it. “Don’t worry, the suit is in that mortal’s lab. I figured you’d want him to at least have his primitive technology back.”

She took a deep breath, planning out her next words. “I know what happened,” She began. “I’m sorry he tried to hurt Earth, I had hoped he wouldn’t but here we are. I’m sorry everything has been so hard lately. When you first went back to Earth, it was all fine. But then you didn’t make friends. Didn’t have the life you wanted. Resorted to isolation, and I’m so sorry you dealt with that.” You nodded, silently accepting the apology. You would’ve loved her help. The slightest amount of assistance along the way would’ve been great. Why on Earth has she chosen now?

“Why didn’t you help?” You asked, your face letting your upset and confused expression through.

“I’m sorry, darling?” Your mother asked, confused by what you were asking.

“I almost died, so did my friends. In fact, two of your children did die. What have you been doing?” You questioned, letting the anger you now felt cover your face just a bit more. She seemed angry, almost offended.

“Where is this coming from, sweetie?” She said you could see a shift in her eyes, like the small universe there had suddenly become a bit bluer.

“Well, I did kill my sister, watch Moros destroy your home, get stranded on an alien planet, get stabbed by my brother, kill him, then fall out of the sky.” You tried your best to stay calm. As protective as your mother was, she wasn’t afraid to get mad. She was one of the oldest beings in the universe, at this point all fear of other beings had worn off.

“I just saved you from falling out of the sky, dear, that’s why you aren’t a very frustrated pancake on the ground right now.” She sighed before taking a deep breath. You saw another shift in her eyes, the blue faded into more of a purple color. “But I understand. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

It wasn’t quite an apology. Everyone else would’ve stopped there. Just have been thankful that a primordial god wasn’t killing them where they stood. But this felt more like a normal parent argument that the night herself was arguing with another goddess. You began to realize how much you’d been desensitized to things normal humans would find incredible.

You gathered all the courage you could, doing your best to keep your voice steady and authoritative. “Mom, you’ve been abandoning me since I was little. After I was born you were so excited that I was godly. You said my abilities were incredible. But a few years went by, and you got bored. You left me with dad. He hated everyone, sometimes I think he hated me. He left me to die. It feels like you left Ker and Moros too. I would’ve stopped if you came. I know you’d deal with them.” You felt unsure how to explain yourself, but still, you kept the same hard tone of your voice. “The gods do that a lot, Mom. And I know I’m not the only one who hates it.”

She seemed to consider your words. “I know. But, the Olympians have their rules. That includes not inferring with life… even if they did create that life themselves.”

You rolled your eyes, “When have you ever cared what Zeus says?”

Your mother didn’t seem to want to argue now. “I haven’t, but there are some rules I agree with. If humans want to survive, they should do it themselves. We shouldn’t have to hold their hand, Circe.”

You slowly nodded your head. She was right, not all life should need constant monitoring, but right now, planets all over the universe could use a little push in the right direction. “Fine, Mother. I really hope you’ll change your mind. I like Earth, it’s my home. The other planets around aren’t so bad either.”

“I’ll take it into consideration.” You knew that was her polite words for “drop the subject”. “And, I expect you to stop killing your siblings! Really, darling, most Mothers don’t need to have this conversation.”

“I’ll do my best.” You agreed. Of all your siblings, Ker and Moros were the most aggressive, so you were sure you wouldn’t have to fight the others.

“Good. Now, on to other plans! You haven’t had ambrosia in forever, darling! Nothing but mortal food. Come, you and I can have some tea together.” She said, her eyes lighting back up to their usual swirl of colors and stars. She stood up, slowly pulling you with her. The motion made your torso spark with pain, and you could feel wrappings around it, probably courtesy of your mother. Still, it was far from healed.

“Mother, I need to go back to my friends.” You explained. You saw her face fall a bit. “Not that I don’t love to see you, Mother, believe me. But I can’t sit around drinking tea right now, they need my help. Or at least need to know I’m okay, last time they thought I died they sorta freaked out.”

Not long ago, the thought of having friends that would miss you was far off in your mind. Now, not only did you have friends, but you had Loki.

And you just told him you loved him and accidentally jumped off a ship. He was probably more than a little worried about you.

“Darling, I’m sure they’re fine! Besides, some of your sisters were going to watch a supernova, I know you haven’t seen one before.” While the idea seemed beautiful, it was hardly what you wanted to do. And it seemed like Nyx could tell from your facial expression. “Ugh. This isn’t about that Asgardian boy, is it? Find some nice god here, darling. They’re below you, all those mortals are.” You wanted to yell at her. You really did, but your mother was a nice woman. You knew she had good intentions, but you were still frustrated and as much as your mother loved you, she wouldn’t take kindly to an argument. Sometimes, her temper could remind you of Odin. You were thankful you were one of her favored children, which truly made you sad for Loki. He never had that luxury.

“Mom, he’s not below me, none of them are. He’s amazing. I love him. And last time he saw me I was sorta plummeting to my death.” You reminded her.

She stared off into the distance. You weren’t even sure if she was comprehending your statement.

“I thought the same about your father, I suppose.” She began. “Thought he was so different from the rest. But he didn’t care about me the same way it seems. If he did, he would have treated you much kinder. Much, much kinder.” She shook her head. “Alright. Go back. But I expect you to visit your Mother, my dear. And bring that boy someday. Zeus won’t argue about it, he wouldn’t risk it.” She smiled, a bit of a smirk on her face. You laughed.

She pulled you closer to her, hugging you tight. Much longer than anyone else. Like a mother who hadn’t seen her child in years, and in your case, it had been decades. You could smell her hair as she held you against your shoulders. It smelled like the nighttime air on a clear summer’s day. Though your eyes were partially closed, you swore you could see far off constellations in her hair. You mumbled “I promise” into her neck and suddenly you found yourself back in New York City, hugging nothing but air.

There was rubble around you, though less than you expected from the fight. The ship above you was lower than you had left it, but still a good distance above the city. You could see some of Moros’ soldiers on the ground around you, but most of the streets were fairly clear of people. You could see people flying above you as well. Even from the distance, you recognized Tony, Thor, Sam, and Vision, probably trying to find you in all the mess.

You used your abilities, a dark smoke taking over your hands and eyes. You could feel the magic in your veins helping your wounds. You loathed the thought of lounging around the tower in this form just to heal better.

A small voice in the back of your head suggested doing that with Loki. Convincing him to sit in the small area you had to yourself, sit in your own forms and read. Or perhaps engage in more… entertaining activities. If he wasn’t too worried about you with bandages covering your abdomen.

You walked over the pavement. Now, with the rocks beneath your feet, you became very aware that you were wearing greek sandals, something your mother seemed to adore. You groaned, hating how you could feel the small rocks under your shoe.

You could hear someone land behind you, the cracked pavement and rubble making their footsteps louder.

Tony didn’t give you much of a chance to respond to his presence. Instead, he stepped out of his suit and ran toward you and hugged you. It surprised you, considering how much he hated to be touched. The hug was short, and before you knew it he had let you go and notified the team of where you were.

“You really need to stop making me think you’re dead, kid. It’s getting to be a little much at this point.” You laughed, appreciating his attempts to keep the conversation light. “Also, you wanna explain this?” He pointed to the flowers in your hair then gestured to the dress you were wearing. “‘Cause you definitely weren’t wearing this an hour ago.”

“Long story.” You heard a few other people approaching you and landing. One of the first people there was Peter in his suit. He grinned and tackled you in a hug, mumbling your name into your shoulder.

You glared at Tony. “You let him fight in this? He could’ve gotten hurt!” You understood that Peter could take care of himself, but he hadn’t even finished high school yet.

“Hey, I didn’t let him do anything. He saw what was going on and joined the fight himself.” Tony said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Peter grumbled, letting go of you. You sighed, understanding his frustration.

“Peter, believe me, I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but you’re a high school student. A brilliant one at that. I don’t want you putting yourself in all this unnecessary danger when we can handle it.”

He nodded, clearly not agreeing but deciding to save the argument for later, which you were okay with. Now, you turned to the rest of the team who had all arrived by now. Thankfully, it seemed like they were able to keep the battle fairly contained.

Loki came up to you immediately, not bothering to wait for anyone to say anything. He didn’t rush to hug you, like Peter and Tony. Instead, he slowly took a few steps forward before stopping about a foot away from you.

“Never do that again. I don’t care what the circumstances are. Never do anything like that again.” He said, calmly but sternly. He didn’t look mad and his words weren’t angry. He was just scared. Scared you had almost died twice in the past few weeks. You nodded quickly.

You took the final step between you, crashing his lips into yours. His hands gripped the side of your face and yours wound their way around your neck, pulling him closer to you. Whatever the group was thinking, they didn’t say anything. Even Tony, which was probably the smartest decision he’d made all week. There was no doubt in your mind that Loki would stab him if he decided to be a smart ass.

Unfortunately, you both had to breathe at some point, so you separated. His hands slowly fell to your waist, still holding you close against him. You didn’t mind at all. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you, I love you so much.” He said, eyes closed. He sounded desperate like he had no plans to let you go in the near future. You smiled at him.

“I love you too.” The words made him laugh. When he opened his eyes you swore they were tearing up the tiniest bit.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that to me again.” He sounded more emotional than you had heard him in a long time.

“I love you.” You whispered again, making him smile wider.

“I do love the dress.” He said, changing the subject slightly.

You laughed. In all fairness though, it was a nice dress. “Yeah, not bad right?” He shook his head, smiling like an idiot.

“Y/n, this is sweet, and I want to give you more time, I really do, but we have to deal with all of this,” Steve said, coming up behind Loki. You nodded, finally dropping your hands from his neck, already missing the cool feeling of his skin. “You said you killed Moros, correct?” Steve asked.

“Yes, he’s long dead. What happened after I disappeared?” Loki stood at your side, one hand still wrapped around your waist. You smiled a bit at the contact.

“SHIELD rounded up most of the soldiers. I’m sure we’ll have to make sure they’re all gone, they’re a big group.” You thought for a minute before your eyes widened.

“Hey, I know someone who might help.” You turned to Loki beside you. “Where’s Mios, the man who helped us fight Moros.” You clarified, unsure if they ever had proper introductions.

“I’m sure he’s with the rest of the high-ranking soldiers. I vouched for him though, so he’s not locked up with them.”

“Fury let you vouch for him?!” You said, surprised Fury would ever trust Loki’s word.

Loki shrugged a bit, “Well, I convinced the others to vouch for him, but still.” He said, smiling when you shook your head at him.

“Moros is really dead?” Steve said, doing his best to get the group back on track.

You nodded. “Most definitely.” Steve nodded before turning to the rest of the group, instructing them to return to the makeshift containment area SHIELD had made in the city. Everyone who could fly took off immediately. You would’ve joined them, but you appreciated the short time alone with Loki. You knew it would be a bit before you got to return to the comfort of your rooms. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Your head was resting on his shoulder and his hand was clamped around your waist. He was holding on tight, like with one wrong move you’d be carried away from him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lo. I promise.” You said softly. You knew you’d get away with the nickname. It might even make him smile.

He squeezed your hip, “I know.” He seemed pleased, so you let it go, letting him keep you close.

Soon, you ended up at SHIELD’s containment for the higher-level officers. It was a small area SHIELD had set up. For the most part, it was agents surrounding small groups of soldiers, but there were too small tents sent up in the middle. Fury walked into one of them, beckoning the team to follow. There were a chair and a table there, a few papers on pictures on the table.

“We’ve contained most of the foot soldiers in a different area, there’s a hell of a lot more of them. We’ve had a few civilian casualties and a few injuries, but the evacuation helped, it could’ve been worse. Point is, the fight is over but we’ve got a bit to work on before we can put this in the record books. First, who’s the soldier who was fighting on our side?” The last part was directed toward you.

“Mios. He helped me get off Kalan, the planet I got trapped on, then gave us a warning about Moros. There wouldn’t have been an evacuation without him.” You said, trying to give Fury a reason to go easy on him. Fury nodded.

“He’s being kept on my watch. Not yours, you’ve already got him,” He said, gesturing to Loki, “You sure as hell don’t need another one. But, I won’t lock him up. He might be useful.” That wasn’t really what you wanted Fury to take away from what you said, but if it kept Mios out of a cell, it was fine.

“Can I talk to him?” You asked. Fury didn’t seem surprised at the request.

“With you heroes, you don’t give a shit if I say no. Go ahead, he’s in the other tent.” You smiled. He was right of course, you would’ve done it no matter what Fury said. You walked out, Loki now holding your hand to come with you.

The agents guarding the other tent moved aside for the two of you and you could see Mios sitting at a table in the middle of the tent. It reminded you of an interrogation room, which was probably what it was.

“Mios.”

“Salem.”

The greetings were accompanied with small smiles and a head nod. He was a kind man, even if he started on the wrong side of a war. But, most of the avengers were criminals at one point or another. All of them, actually.

“You came to help.” It was a statement, but you meant it as a question.

“Well, once I figured you were a god who was attempting to do the right thing, I had to do a little research into both sides. I found our boss, Moros, wasn’t exactly known for his kindness, but you’re known for being a little nicer. It’s a rock and a hard place, you know?” He asked, a lopsided smirk on his face. There was another chair across from his and you took a seat, Loki standing behind you.

“And you sided with me? A woman you’d known for a few days against your own men?” You said.

He shrugged. “I went against a lot of my friends when I joined Moros’ army. It wasn’t that hard to go against people I don’t even like.” He said sarcastically. You could tell his responses were more coping mechanisms than anything else, but you could respect that.

“Thank you.” Was all you offered, not questioning his decision anymore. “Your warning saved a lot of lives.” You smiled at him, “I’m doing my best to make sure you can go and actually help people after this, not stay under SHIELD’s supervision forever.”

He shook his head. “SHIELD isn’t half bad. They help people out, even if their ways aren’t the cleanest. I don’t mind sticking with them.”

You nodded, happy he was at least okay with his situation. “I’ll see you soon, Mios.” You said, squeezing his hand quickly before getting up and beginning to walk away.

“Hey, Salem.” You turned, looking at him expectantly. “Thanks.” He said, offering you a nod that you returned, walking out to the rest of the group.

***

#loki x reader #loki #salem #saved work #fanfic

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xaviermayne · 4 years

Text

My Brother's Favorite Toy: Part Two

"Get the fuck out of here," Grayson said, throwing his hand toward the door.

"Dude, I've got a raging bone—"

"I don't fucking care!" Grayson yelled, covering his face with a forearm. "I said get out of my room."

Ethan stood for a moment, shocked that Grayson made him work so hard for him, and then wouldn't at least let Ethan take care of his own need.

Once he got back to his room, Ethan's dick had gotten softer, and he was feeling too deflated to even try and finally knock one out. He thought about how Grayson looked after he came, the look of shame on his face.

Things didn't get much better. The next day, they had breakfast in virtual silence. Ethan finally tried to break the ice when he finished the last scoop of his avocado.

"Bet it took a long time cleaning up last night," he said.

"Ethan!" Grayson snapped. "We're not gonna talk about that, alright?" He glared straight into Ethan's eyes. "Like, ever. Got it?"

Ethan sat stoned-faced. How could they never talk about it? They had just permanently crossed a line as brothers. Before that, the gayest thing they'd ever done together was occasionally watch porn together, but only when they were both horny and exhausted from traveling, jerking themselves under the sheets, each in separate double beds in a hotel room.

It had to be talked about. But Ethan knew his brother. Sometimes Grayson just needed time. Ethan would just have to wait.

Later that morning, they were working out when Ethan suddenly realized he'd made a grave mistake. He still hadn't cum since last night, and Grayson was loading up the weights on the squat rack. Ethan was about to be forced to view his favorite in-person porno play out yet again in front of his eyes, with a level of horniness he didn't think he'd ever experienced before.

To make matters worse, Grayson was wearing a new pair of shorts that Ethan just knew was going to drive him crazy. Short red ones made of this clingy combed cotton, and Ethan swore they were at least a half-size too small.

Ethan tried to look away, but his eyes flicked back to his brother's backside as soon as he heard his brother grunt as he lowered himself down, the heavy barbell held up against Grayson's shoulders with his strong arms. As he bent his knees, Grayson's ass pushed out further and further, until Ethan saw the fabric of the shorts straining to hold in his brother's mighty ass.

Ethan felt like his body had just been tossed in an oven, with prickly heat all over him as he felt his dick swell again too. There was a pang of pain as his balls ached.

He worried he might even be hallucinating when he could've sworn he saw the outline of his brother's hole through his too-thin shorts. The same one he'd fingered last night.

Grayson quickly raised back up, then shrugged the barbell off his shoulders, and the weights slammed to the floor, quaking their gym. Ethan was shocked. "Gray, are you okay?" Ethan asked. "That could've gone straight through the floor, bro." Grayson turned around, glaring at this brother.

"Are you okay, Ethan?" Grayson asked in a mocking tone. Then he pointed below Ethan. Ethan looked down and saw what looked like— yep, that was his precum on the floor. He'd been so entranced that he hadn't realized his growing dick had snaked its way through his boxer briefs, the head drizzling precum as it rested between his thigh and shorts.

"Oh, fuck," Ethan murmured.

"You're fucking disgusting, Ethan," Grayson said. Ethan could see the repulsion in his brother's eyes. A vein on Grayson's neck had popped out, and Grayson walked toward Ethan, his muscles juiced up from the set. For a moment, Ethan was legitimately scared of what Grayson was about to do. "We're brothers, Ethan. It's not just gay, it's incest. That fucking illegal. And even if it weren't, like that's just fucking weird, bro. I'm working out and you're literally cumming on the floor, which I hope you're gonna clean up by—"

The adrenaline pumping through Ethan gave him a sudden burst of confidence. "Bro, shut up, you're literally the one who made me fingerbang you last night."

Grayson grimaced at "fingerbang". "You're the one who broke my fucking dildo, bro!" Grayson screamed at Ethan, leaning in his reddening face until Ethan could feel flecks of spit hit his cheeks. "You used something that'd been up my ass, Ethan! You're a fucking freak!"

Ethan was actually trembling now, although he was trying his best to hide it. The brothers had promised to never punch each other, but with all the blood and testosterone flowing through Grayson right now after his workout, Ethan really couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, Grayson pivoted and walked over to one of their weight benches. For a split second, Ethan thought maybe Grayson would just continue with his workout to get out his aggression out. But then, to Ethan's surprise, Grayson pulled down his shorts and underwear. Ethan stood in stunned silence, his mouth agape, as Grayson stepped out of them and laid face-down on the wide, black leather bench. Grayson pushed back his dick and balls so he could lay entirely flat, and then let his legs dangle off the sides. He turned his face away from Ethan.

"W-what are you doing?" Ethan stammered quietly.

"You're gonna fuck me," Grayson said, his voice echoing around the gym. "If you're such a freak and want to fuck your brother, let's just do it and get it over with. Then you can finally be fucking satisfied and we can never talk about this again."

Confused and suspicious, Ethan walked slowly over to Grayson. He wanted to ask more questions, but the sight of his brother's plump buns stupefied him once again, with his cock quickly pulsing back up to full wood. Meekly, Ethan squatted down to part his brother's cheeks. When he did, he was intoxicated by both the sight of that tight pink hole, now in the daylight, and the special brand of sweaty musk that Ethan could smell from his brother's exposed crack.

"Two rules: go slow, and don't cum inside me or I'll rip your fucking dick off."

"Kay," said Ethan. Ethan hocked and spat a loogie on his brother's hole, then began fingering him just like last night. This time, Grayson stayed completely silent. But Ethan knew he was doing good work when he found his brother's spot, and Grayson's dick, pinned back against the leather, started to grow.

For always looking so tight, Ethan was surprised how quickly Grayson was opening up. He figured last night probably helped stretch him. But Grayson's hole didn't even twitch once, which made Ethan think his brother wanted it a little more than he let on.

When Ethan finally got a third finger in, and Grayson's dick was throbbing, a bead of precum glistening in his slit, Ethan pulled down his shorts and underwear, kicking them off. His dick swung round, he didn't think he'd even been harder. He spit twice in his hand and then palmed his dick, making sure every inch was glistening.

Ethan had to smirk when he finally felt the tip of his head press against his brother's warm entrance. He pushed, and his smirk spread into a wide, silly grin when he saw the full tip disappear inside Grayson's muscular ass. But that was the easy part.

The twins both had what they referred to as torpedo-shaped dicks. Rather small heads, but the shaft quickly flared out to their full widths, then sloping back down to normal once you got to the base. So Ethan knew the hardest part was yet to come.

He pushed gently, and surprisingly Grayson didn't seem to mind. In fact, he could've swore he saw Grayson's dick throb hard a couple times right after. When he started really pushing in, though, is when Grayson started to groan with discomfort. Ethan stopped, letting his brother's already-stretched ring adjust to his girthy cock.

When he was sure Grayson must be ready again, he started squeezing in further. Grayson's groan quickly shot up to a yell. "Ahh, fuck! Go slow, what did I fucking say?" Grayson yelled.

"I am going slow!" Ethan shouted, though he knew that wasn't true. He was so impatient to pound away. Then he leaned his head forward and let another mouthful of spit drop onto where Grayson's hole was puckered around his pulsing dick. Then, after a few more moments, slid more in.

Grayson groaned dramatically, slamming a fist into the bench, but the extra spit seemed to help, as Ethan was able to squeeze in the full width with little protestation from the coiffed-haired cutie.

Ethan pulled out a bit carefully, then pushed back in. Grayson stayed silent.

"You're taking this like a champ," Ethan said.

"Shut the fuck up," Grayson said through gritted teeth.

With his next pump, Ethan went a little bit further. Suddenly, he saw Grayson's expression seem to light up in the mirror facing the bench. That's the spot, Ethan thought, remembering a similar expression on his brother's face last night. He pulled out and in again, and he could've sworn he heard a tiny moan croak out of his brother's throat.

Newly confident, and desperate to get his full dick in, Ethan dared to go a bit deeper. Yep, that was a moan, Ethan thought, as Grayson slapped a hand against his own mouth, then buried his face in the bench. Ethan began building a rhythm, plunging his big dick in and out of his little brother. Not his entire length, though, since Ethan wasn't sure how deep you could even go in a guy's ass, and he didn't want to push his luck, as he could hear Grayson's muffled moans and knew his bottoming bro was enjoying that big torpedo middle pressing against his p-spot.

Pumping away, Ethan suddenly felt that tingle behind his balls, and he had to stop mid-thrust. Don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, Ethan thought frantically. He remembered the one thing that always helped him not prematurely ejaculate.

Womp womp womp, Ethan sang in his head. Yeah-ee-ah-ee yeahh! It was the old James Charles meme. Womp womp womp! The vision of James's ghostly face attempting to sing worked once more. The need to cum passed.

Pulling back before another thrust, Ethan looked down and saw the lips of his brother's ass pussy puckered around his cock. He was stretching Grayson out so much, it was like Gray's ass was trying to suck his cock whenever he pulled out some.

He pushed back into Grayson's warm, wet, velvety ass, and then continued to pump. At one point he repositioned his foot, causing his dick to tilt down a bit more, and then Ethan could've sworn he started hearing his brother utter little high-pitched "uhhhn" sounds with every pound. Encouraged, Ethan tilted his hips down a little bit more, to where his iron missile was pile-driving nearly straight down into Grayson's ass. In the mirror, Ethan saw Grayson's handsome head suddenly shoot up from being buried in the bench. Grayson's eyes were rolling back into his head.

Ethan kept his rhythm. Looking down, he saw Grayson's ring suddenly clamp down a bit on Ethan's dick. Ethan grunted from how good that felt, then Grayson's ass widened back out. Then Ethan saw Grayson's balls pull up a bit, and Grayson's bulbous prostate, bulging out between his hole and his balls, pulsed hard, almost seeming to squeeze.

Suddenly, a hot white load of cum rocketed out of Grayson's red, rock hard dick. It shot between Ethan's thrusting legs and Ethan heard it splatter behind them, all over the chest fly machine. With another pile-drive, Ethan watched Grayson's prostate squeeze hard again, and a split second later another big load shot out.

Holy shit, Ethan thought. I'm milking him with my fucking dick.

Piledrive after piledrive, Grayson's cock blasted load after load. Clearly his balls had managed to restock overnight. Obsessed with the control over his brother's pleasure, Ethan couldn't help himself from keep going. And though the bulb of Grayson's prostate kept pulsing each time, the loads eventually got smaller and smaller, until it seemed as if Grayson was stilling cumming, but had actually run out of cum. His dick would still quiver as if it were shooting, but it was just blanks.

God, I milked him completely dry. Suddenly something primal kicked into Ethan. He looked up at his brother with his eyes still rolling back, his mouth agape. Ethan felt that warm tingle, but even the meme couldn't help him now. He was in animalistic breeding mode now. With a loud growl, Ethan felt his aching balls seize, and he finally pounded his giant saved-up load inside his brother's ass. Something inside Ethan made him want to breed his seed, as far deep as he could. He heard Grayson grunt in pain as Ethan forced the last inch of his dick in, and sprayed a couple more shots inside.

Breathless, the intense warmth of the orgasm slowly cooled out of Ethan's body. He collapsed on top of Grayson, his dick still balls-deep. Ethan's ballsack loosened and drooped on top of his brother's, which flanked Grayson's softening dick.

Ethan smirked to himself, thinking, Now it's really gay, because our balls touched.

"Ummm Ethan?" Grayson asked, his voice strained.

"Yeah, Gray?" Ethan replied, expecting him to say something like, Get the fuck off me.

Instead, Grayson lifted his head, his brow furrowed, and demanded, "You didn't just shoot YOUR FUCKING LOAD IN ME, DID YOU?!"

Ethan gulped.

#grethan #ethan and grayson #dolan twins #grethan smut

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napuleh · 4 years

Note

What was the most terrifying moment in your life?

You want me to pick just one? I’m nearly three thousand years old. Give or take a couple of hundred (but it sounds better if it put it like that). Out of many, many moments, I’ll give you the first I can actually remember.

I’ll be aging myself by telling this story (I can feel it, my imaginary youth slipping away in your minds) but I was still very young when the ‘first century’ rolled around. I was old enough to plan my escapes by then, waiting until the adults got into it with each other - politics, alcohol, er. Straight up fist fighting (at least twice). In the thick of it I would slip away to liberate my little mind, dance in puddles, scrape my knees. By today’s standards the ‘usual kid stuff’, but I had been a kid for too long already. My default state of mind was disgustingly bored already, and on top of that, my education at home...

It left much to be desired. By me, I mean. Chores weren’t my thing.

I liked disappearing. The longer I was out, the more I saw, the more I learned, the better I felt about my existence. It was both marvelous and terrifying to amble down the roads by myself — and while part of me was clever (how could I not be with five- no, six- maybe seven? hundred years under my belt), the rest of me was still just a child. When I became afraid, genuinely lost, it was hard to come up with details, such as where I came from, or in whose care I was supposed to be, or even the name of my mother. Even if I could remember, it wasn’t like I was the chattiest brat to begin with; it was a struggle to even form the words I needed to spit out.

Luckily for me, with how frequently I would make my little escapes, there were locals who knew me or at least knew of me. Others recognized me by virtue of my immortality, stories passed down the line about the eternal child that everyone and their mother would outgrow. Because of them, I always wound up in some sort of shelter until word could get back to my caregivers.

79 anno Domini

This time it was a temple. (Or at least I think it was. Some of the details are fuzzy, given the fact that I’m trying to recall something that happened nearly two thousand years ago.) I was tired, hungry, thirsty; if you know me well, or at all, you know it only takes one of those things to make me cranky. With all three at the same time, and the added stress of being left alone, again, I felt as if I was going to explode.

Then the tremors began. It was the fourth day in a row that the ground shook beneath our feet, but this time it was quite violent, and it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. Startled, I tried to leap to my feet, but tumbled right over; I threw out my arms to grab onto something, but knocked into it instead. When I felt it hit my skin, burning hot olive oil splashing from the lamp onto my shoulder, it was if my soul left my body. I screamed and screamed, and I don’t think I stopped until I saw my father.

Then I’m pretty sure I passed out. Whether it was because of the pain or because I cried myself unconscious, well. Who the fuck knows. Both work.

Because of our nature, and how we heal, you can’t see too much of the scarring. For the most part, it blanched my skin in the center, here - shooting out like a web. Had it not been for the fact that Vesuvio erupted that same day, I don’t think I would even have this much of a scar to show still. For the longest time, I didn’t think much of it, and tucked the memories away. But in the 1500s, when we found the buried city of Pompeii, the scar seemed to rise out of my skin, the memories unlocked by the knowledge given to my people through this discovery. Two centuries later, in 1748, as they excavated the site (thanks, Charles) the scar became more prominent, the flesh around it began to pull, tighten, pulse...

It doesn’t bother me like it used to until good old Vesuvius tries to remind me that he is there, quaking, spewing fire, and then I feel the familiar clench of fear in my heart, on my skin. But scar or no scar, volcano or no volcano, to this day it was the scariest fucking thing that happened to me in my infantia.

I want to say this is the most terrifying thing that ever happened to me. But, hey: I’m fucking ancient.

Only God knows what trauma I’ll relive within the next few centuries, what secrets I keep even from myself.

#tbt #content warning #cw burn #cw injury #hws romano #Anonymous #if you're a lamp oil expert DO NOT PERCEIVE THIS #if not keep reading. BAHAHA

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anotheronechicagobog · 5 years

Text

I’m Sorry Pt. 2 Matt Casey x Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of death, child neglect, mental illness, low self confidence, daddy issues

by: @anotheronechicagobog

“You have to know why I’m here.”

“To tell me you’ve realised your mistake and broken up with that firefighter.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You haven’t changed. At all! That stint in prison did nothing!”

“Y/N-”

“No. It is my turn to talk.” Your voice was cold and violent. “I hate myself and it is your fault. I felt abandoned by you and I saw you everyday. Nothing I did was ever good enough, first you put all your energy into Justin, and then Erin. I was the best student in my grade for seven years straight, was that important to you? No. Did it catch your attention? No. I thought there was something wrong with me for my entire life. I broke my own soul trying to impress you. I put myself through hell to try and earn your pride. Late study nights starting years before they should have, I spent so much time with mami trying to imitate her because you loved her so much and I wanted some of that affection to be directed towards me. When she died, I lost the only parent I’d ever had, because you didn’t do jack. The only thing that you contributed to the person I’ve become is making sure that I know that I am worthless. That I am nothing. That I do not deserve love. That the world would be better off without me. That I deserve the excruciating pain that you embroidered into my spirit. When I was 18, I joined the academy. Did you know that? Wait, why am I even bothering asking? Of course you didn’t, when has my life been of any interest to you? I graduated at the top of my class, I broke three records. There were precinct captains fighting over where I’d be assigned. I got assigned to the 17th district. I was asked to take the detective’s exam after six months. I would’ve been the youngest detective in the CPD. But it was during the meeting after I passed the exam, when my captain was telling me how intelligent and adaptable I was, how he was so proud of me, and said that I reminded him of you. I felt like throwing up. All that I could remember were the nights gang leaders would meet in our dining room to “talk business” with you. I remember all the guns, drugs, and money that was stashed in various places around the house. Yeah, that’s right, I knew. I just let it slide when mami was dying. I remembered when you were taking Justin and I home from school and you pulled over to kill someone. I don’t know who they were, but I don’t care that wasn’t nor will it ever be, okay. The fact that I reminded my captain and so many others in the CPD of you made me realize that I needed to get the hell out of there before I became you. I quit on the spot. I left the force that day and never looked back. I joined the military the day after I legally changed my last name, became a medic. I decided to become a doctor to help people, and I didn’t have the money to pay for med school, so the military seemed like the best way to do it. When I was honourably discharged, with numerous awards under my belt, I was a sergeant. But still I’m not proud of my accomplishments, I should be, but I’m not. No, I’m just standing around waiting for the shoe to drop, for everyone around me, including Matt, to realize that I am nothing but the scum on the bottom of their shoes and that I do not deserve anything even remotely simulating happiness. And that is all thanks to you. I love Matt, so much, and I want a future with him so badly, but because of you, all I’m doing is waiting for him to leave. You were a terrible father, and I blame myself for it. I blame myself for all the illegal shit you did, for mami’s death, for Justin’s alcohol and drug problems, for Erin being brought in as my replacement...” Tears had started streaming down you face when you started your rant, but now, when you’d finally voiced out loud your thoughts, you couldn’t hold back your sobs. “I’m sorry.” It was all you could choke out before turning and sprinting to your car.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you made it back to your apartment you were worn out. You just wanted to curl up in your bed let the remainder of your tears free. You’d passed the last stair and were met with the sight of Matt at your door. You could feel the dam you’d managed to patch up in the car threatening to burst again at the sight of him. You sniffled and he turned around at the sound. “Y/N? Are you okay?” It only took a couple of determined strides for him to reach you and put his hands delicately on each side of your face. All that you could think about were your own words, and this time you couldn’t ignore them, bury them deep in the recesses of your mind and hope they never resurface. “What happened? Your shift ended an hour ago, where were you?”

“I-I was w-i-ith my fa-ther... and we- I just- It’s over Matt. I-I’m sor-ry.”

“What? No, Y/N, no. Did your father say something? Did he do something? Did I do something? Y/N, please, don’t do this. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“It’s over, you didn’t do a-anything wro-ng. I pr-promise. You were ama-zing.” You kissed him on the cheek, your having officially become niagara falls, and ran to your door. You managed to unlock it, get inside, and lock it before Matt could process what was happening. He started banging on your door, calling your name, begging you to open your door, to listen, to talk. You slide down to the floor and let all your tears free, your sobs drowning out Matt’s desperate pleas.

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“Why did you break up with Matt?” You woke up on the floor, still in your clothes from yesterday with dried up tears on your face. You got up and decided that a shower and some food would make you feel better, in that order. When you were almost finished eating you were interrupted by Erin calling your phone. “Sorry Erin, I’m still waking up, what’s going on?”

“Y/N are you okay? It’s noon, you’re always up at six.”

“It’s what?!” You checked the time and, surely enough, it was noon, give or take a few minutes. “Um, okay, last night was rough, it must’ve messed up my sleep cycle, hell I slept on the floor... Now, what’s going on? How do you know that I broke up with Matt?”

“You slept on the floor? What? I- you know what? We’ll discuss that later. Anyway Matt is here, at the 21st, yelling at Voight in his office for making you break up with him. So, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. He clearly still wanted me to, but I didn’t break up with Matt because he told me to.” Your voice went quiet, remembering last night clearly, unfortunately.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Your voice was still quiet, hurt. “I think you should come down here.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you walked up to the desk in the 21st. You started to address the woman who’s nametag said Platt “Hi, I’m here to-”

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes.”

“Go on up.” You heard a buzzing sound and made your way to the door, not at all ready for what you were about to walk into.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“FOR THE LAST TIME, WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?!”

“I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING!”

“HONESTLY VOIGHT DO YOU EXPECT-”

“He’s telling the truth, Matt.” Everyone turned to you. “Y/N” He choked out, blue eyes pleading and sad. “Matt, let’s do this somewhere else.”

“No. Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I’m not good enough for you, okay? I shouldn’t have let our relationship drag out this long, it was selfish of me.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? You are more than good enough for me, I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t you. So please, talk to me, how on earth did you come to that conclusion?”

“It’s just something I’ve always known.”

“No, it’s not.” Your father butted into the conversation. “It’s my fault that she thinks like that, that she believes that about herself. I was a terrible father and Y/N’s paying the price. Y/N, you deserve happiness. You... are better than me at everything, but you don’t have the self-confidence to go along with your achievements and that is my fault. You are an amazing, intelligent young woman and I’m the one who failed, Y/N, not you. My biggest regret is the way I treated you and that I chose not to be a part of your life and accomplishments. I’m really proud of you.”

“Do you really mean it? You can’t joke about something like this, dad.”

“With all of my heart.”

“Y/N, I shouldn’t have interfered with your relationship. You clearly love Lieutenant Casey and he clearly loves you. I was wrong, there’s no excuse for my behaviour. I’m sorry.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat across from Matt in the Mills family diner. You were pushing your food around on your plate, the weight of his stare making you nervous to look up. Neither of you had spoken since you agreed to leave the 21st together, you decided to be the one to break the ice. “I’m in love with you and I’ve never faced anything more terrifying in my life.” You heard Matt splutter, spitting his coffee back into his mug. “I’ve never felt like I’ve been worth much and I just, I love you so much, and after the confrontation I had with my father I just realized that I couldn’t wait around for you to leave me.”

“You mean more to me than anyone else has, the past twelve hours have been absolute hell without you. I’m in love with you too. I have to admit, though, what you think of yourself really concerns me. I still love you like crazy, but I think you need some professional help.”

“How could you still love me knowing that I’m a basket case?”

“You’re not a basket case, everyone has their own issues, I guess the difference with mine is that you already knew about them and that I’ve been going to therapy.”

“I’ll... talk to Dr. Charles tomorrow morning.” Matt sighed in relief and the tension washed out of his eyes and shoulders. He reached his hand across the table and held yours tenderly. “I love you so much Y/N.”

#matt casey #matt casey x reader #hank voight #hank voight x daughter!reader #erin lindsay #One Chicago #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago med

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sirjustice461-blog · 4 years

Text

car wheel digital compass direction

Yesterday that white man walking with Dogs in Arafat furniture shop at lolwe made like more than 100 missiles and grenade launchers as guns within a tinkle of an eye dude as the raw material was readily available as sample of lolwe households were told to hide/keep their 1 week garbage 4 that work where many where give like 1 of the above to hide in their houses as some went to barren lands around and hid them underground as bury them as much as in the compounds 4 detectives not to unearth the same dude

Far from the above truths other Ugandans around as much as many tourists have made the same above here in East Africa and at agreed time/hour hurl the same on banks and police stations as much as those on vans on the road to create a next volatile state and steal money from such all country banks. As in a war can kill all people who can be corpse and all the army men, Govt can not manage people or overwhelm people who have known how to make machinery as above, with time they will kill all army men like with nucleus bomb, card-boards written with words inserted in garbage and the below inserted as water lilies or coconut stick broom and boom ya bomb bro, unless every1 goes to his land and dialogue given chance is when turmoil can stop dude.

Talk to the devil as in making machines in boom process to give you the map of all planets as with life as well, bearing from earth cities and distance dude. How can the white man know such distances when he has not reached such places dude, daytime lie bro, devil works bro.

Straight city paths as compared to curved town path as of Africa makes you dull and mundane in bed reason why many prefer Africa as not most developed cities as it improves their sex life, much greater sexual appetite and satisfaction than straight roads of most cities as planned cities.

When u place carrot, sausages made out of carrot or catapult Y shaped stick in garbage makes even saucer jets as synonymous with Russian made 1 as u can google both in the boom process.

Angel Gabriel signaling angels about judging facts to take Back to Mr. Hindu was hurled down as in revelation and Peter the rock resumed/took his position as in the links below dude

https://biblehub.com/revelation/12-9.htm

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=judgement+of+jesus+in+heaven

When u place maize cob in Garbage like 4 the whole estate and place the above makes even E-air-plane both in the boom process as in the link below dude

https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=electric+passenger+airplane+images&qpvt=electric+passanger+airplane+images&form=IGRE&first=1&scenario=ImageBasicHover&cw=1117&ch=639

Made in Uganda car and plane in the links below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_wjymu4dW4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23NCVy04iV0

https://www.wired.com/2013/08/electric-airplane-for-sale/

India airplane link as well get a glimpse of what’s in other links below

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-41813389

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCyymbjzmmc

https://www.wired.com/2007/10/nigerian-studen/https://www.wired.com/2007/10/nigerian-studen/

https://www.facebook.com/242155683315911/photos/diy-home-made-electric-scooter/242190723312407/

https://www.amazon.com/slp/electric-remote-control-planes/xzov6h3ve7v85rm

https://autojosh.com/checkout-our-made-in-nigeria-keke-napep-photos/

https://www.icao.int/environmental-protection/Documents/EnvironmentalReports/2019/ENVReport2019_pg124-130.pdf

https://www.autoreportng.com/2019/11/see-amazing-electric-keke-napep-thats.html

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/322851867010892568/

Uganda can be the African richest nation as the best attract you car or gadgets then grab ya mind then suddenly makes u leave the gadget and search 4 the owner is made out of Jack-fruit as Mfenesi in the boom process, not dull or bright but not even cool, falling less of than being cool dude and world nations where such are grown as they can import such, when mixed with rye gives not all that bright machine and that’s its utility, what a perfect combination as synonymous with mercedez cars and u can mix jack-fruit of equal percentage with any fruit, hay, used tires, bottles or chaff used to make gadgets in the boom process. Click the links below 4 more. Jack-fruit as well can be made much in the boom process but her gadgets not the same as of grown 1

https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/world-leaders-in-jackfruit-production.html

https://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/pdffiles/MG/MG37000.pdf

https://smartfarmerkenya.com/4754-2/

https://www.ajfand.net/Volume19/No2/Balamaze17290.pdf

Its 2 fold, u belittle 1 yet he has refused ya gay maneuvers which are well known and nothing pegged on me is bad as guilt whatsoever, if at all i could have died a sibling u could not have learnt automation as Kenya and the rest of poor world could be like in the 80′s dude. Now u talk kinda, pointing 1 but afraid as ya dubious deal faulted meaning i have worn my part as the war. Even if u say i got no money or was crying, the fact remains what u wanted as with jew/Egyptian long dead dude, no immigration of the Negros into ya nation as it more poor than rich than u thought dude. Better that way bro, and on ya side u stop wanting my food even wanting to ambush me on the roads. Selling artificial oil, gas, foods and exhuming caskets long gone even opening shops 4 petty theft and even illicit money online that u use to get those women u want. They fear as they can be attacked with other nations the belittled and at the same time have gotten leverage of making gadget so confident of the future not to get into the hard life they lived 20years back. They wanna get to 1 country yet those in their sphere they mistreat as above, so them also to take heed in other peoples nation. Scratch my back i scratch yours lets u r annihilated to be animals not human beings dude

Wanting all free from me but not even a single from them and that can not happen and they have gotten it dude. Kenya will never be rich than even SA and u got it dude and it hurts cause have waiting 4 along time. Charles Darwin theories hoax as Judgement and Hell found along Chicago Ave Minneapolis, MN. Me i have rewritten books as dismissed many laws many have studied in books without rest, waking up at night to master them as lies and u have submitted to the same and so fellows who is great, me or u? With ya u only abuse me in circles which do not gain international accreditation b4 u realize that am above ya to plan my ambush or claim that am of ya tribe yet we got DNA dude. U can be all killed and Nyanza and luo dialect remains with me to dispose it bro. Whats the hoot dude, even after ya death and having received formalin injection if u repent when people hear or record to post on YouTube, Fb or any social media fraternity 4 people to retrieve and hear u find ya way to heaven, so Mr Hindu we know clearly the remedy to what u r championing dude, so better stop. If u say the truck with belt water pump that harbor Ae technology is just made while other knows about it when it started operation then what u have been saying on people as seeing in ya eye are all lies pegged on the above case, so stop dude and accept triumph Mr Hindu, stop wanting my food again yet previously u belittled me, meaning u r insane to get by as the gimmick maybe dude. People also transfigure to images of others to implicate ya dude. Koth/seed mar chwa/okwaju treats aids dude, Nyamau fresh mouth herb can be made much as the leaves or roots as well as stem in the boom process by placing coconut African broom stick, pineapple, carrot, pumpkin, water lilies, charcoal water, orange fruit outer peel or sweet potato both in the boom process and with any food to be made much artificially dude. No worry in Africa dude when the above learnt as much as temperate lands in winter when oil finishes but we got away to replace Africa solar as E-car dude

Built in Uganda airline by KEBI in the link below as well as E-Norwegian airplane

http://bazzukulubabuganda.com/enyonyi_ezibuuka_eza_uganda_airlines.html

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jan/18/norway-aims-for-all-short-haul-flights-to-be-100-electric-by-2040

Am the Victor dude, Now u cant just talk with mouth wide open even if i die dude and that’s it homey. Shut that previously smelling mouth which my relentless efforts made much fresh 4 people to draw close to ya and wife not to divorce ya dude. Kebi saved ya ass big time dude

With making like Manhattan Island on water, u can use the armored glass as its much strong and rot not dude, where such is made out of Garbage, placed on it cut flower sample then hurl cold water and boom ya size u want armored glass as the devil can give you every road and street as much as cultivate lawns and sky scrapper if u draw all such not making later after the island is formed. The Kora brown translucence stone is the hardest and can be used to make our roads and buildings more than the normal 1, when sample of such place in garbage or cut diagonal such photos as in the link below placed then u spit saliva in the boom process and ya kora stone formed.

https://www.gettyimages.com/photos/stone-object?mediatype=photography&phrase=stone%20object&sort=mostpopular

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=images+of+gravel&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjhyvrthpDrAhWmDmMBHaQvCWUQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=891

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&q=images+of+mango+seed

Take city garbage like collected 4 a week and mix with much water, then insert pieces of lemon into it, then spit saliva and in the boom process makes ya gravel, u can mix with sewer water 4 black dark ones which if u place in the boom process solutions as dough, hay, cereals or fruits makes any electrical gadget as home appliances, office furniture and appliances or cars when placed in the boom process as we place water lilies, orange outer peel, charcoal, coconut African broom etc. Even grains of fruits as lemons, oranges, mango, paw paw makes electronic when the above gravel piece placed while When u place dry mango seed, cassava pieces, avocado seed, cut ripe banana, jack-fruit yellow inside and maize in solutions that makes jets or sugar makes such in the boom process dude.

Chamama made gadgets grows wide ya face and makes u pimply but chamama made paints in the boom process are 1 of the coolest, so buy like a car made out of ripe mango, remove the paint and applies chamama made paint as explained above while cars made out of jackfruit if u draw close to them u see, kinda, tiny gray dots as tints and its known that way where people loving such hate the reverse as of chamama that draws u to it not as of rye that does the exact reverse. Most Jackfruit made gadget lovers love not smooth things as paints as many Arab women git such wide, non perforated type of skin, but of jackfruit which is like skin of people with tiny holes as sweet pores or goose pimply skinned people out of awe or 1 pumping cold moments to ya, hard to explain but at least gotten it dude. With paw paw made gadgets, people see u as loving ya self and self alone and even with paints. So dude, explore ya option b4 u come up with the car u drive to maintain respect and if wrong choice, remove paint as above and apply another as above. AS in the song link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LL__exAp76A

With pumpkin made like car is 4 the young who wants to be big or wanting other people 4 love who are aged than them, if u drive such cars, such women pity u as can consider ya and most preferably good with tiny or small car but not suv as the reverse is of jack-fruit made 1 dude. Got to know this, don’t just claim u r up to kids, thinking it will get always with u and no-where can overtake ya, don’t just be bongo lala, just there, wanting good as women always wants from men dude. Don’t get into women without nothing 4 society to have pity on ya.

When though as above ya plans cant be blocked or known as with Britain, will always be like that, as u want not people to tell ya and u want to control them as is only u who knows how to behave not them, when it goes bad with u, get to my position when u were above me not vice versa wanting from me to the of being like a kid, dude beware it will be the scene of this series movie where the black woman who was frustrated aiming the gun at his boss who knows how to see/look previously when his dubious ways had not been known as in the link below but UK people now don’t fear their cities being overtaken as they can expand Landon by building another Manhattan city island or residential land on its Atlantic coast as explained above. Put smile in ya face as the problem will solve it self as Landon is said to be crowded dude

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=the+old+guard+series+scenes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ScfkduNTbo

Luo people like bibo, have u acknowledged am above u in thinking— hamano, hehe, have u dude, that way dude. I wanna hear the phrase ““we acknowledge u r above us dude“ again and again, Hamano and thats respect, where am snoring u dont come along and dude the same, got me dude, Hamano, Without me u could be still living in shanties and ya life could not have changed as now, True or false, that way dude, en hamamo, saying looking downward as a woman being seduced dude and that’s how it ought to be fro beginning.

$50 toy drone Kebi demolished as he bought just to find how it works and tells you. Men if u know shit stop cashing into 1 life, u can cash into his life yet get to hell as him gets to heaven as being in hell is only 1 week and rather hell so u r erased out the book of life. Decision yours dude. Just standing in hell no sweet thing as Kekvin out of curse, better kill every1 with siren gas so every1 gets to judgement 4 the world to start again, rather than this way which will never end as we got other planets as well. Other planet maps, white burnt wood fumes mixed with much water then raw mango pies placed in the boom process then the devil explain to ya in details whereabouts of other planets as distance from earth, its radius and continents in it. Jivu/wivu as Jealousy dude

Click the link below 4 more dude, of wanna bees/kich/nyuki, beatitudes with Christ bro

https://whitepeopletwitter.tumblr.com/post/626023511695212544

Car wheel digital compass direction as in the link below to aid new road users to reduce traffic accidents as it shows ya when wheel is not in straight position to take it back or bends demarcated as with how much to turn the wheel to negotiate such bends or corners

https://www.alibaba.com/product-detail/2018-digital-led-battery-table-clock_60022095009.html

Counterfeit products, make a bar code software on phones to detect the same when no company placed automated vending machine.

They now champion less kids not as earlier as to increase a/c no that can withdraw cash from 2goinvoice which name has been changed and not told many people as it can be like its predecessor dude.

Nyagot NAIROBI commuter buses belongs to Kebi adopted mother, as many have known now cropping the town as Arabs and whites wanting it easy from him yet he is very categorical in his stand that’s not his biological mother but happy are we as DNA has been done. White people stop that shit, take it to another some1 bro. Don’t turn back like the Russians are doing continue being rude as always and sponsoring hooliganism do not relent girl. Told them how motor bike spare parts made as much as vehicle, managed to make the same sell and be rich dude

Even chamama leaves and succulent seed part makes 1 of the best paints and cars that neither draws people away from it or to it but just there, not deemed kiddish or youth or too much grown but just there dude.

If getting out was my way out, getting out i will get out, no 1 whom am more than can bar me and get me straight getting out i will get out even u Mr Hindu, Kikuyu or Russian if u don’t shoot me, getting out i will dude, u cant stop me bro. U can prolong ya ejaculation but not my getting out bro wanting to reap where u did not saw youngling.

Portacabin housed in the links below made by Garbage inserted inside water lilies or dry cassava/white sweet potato pieces or all named in sirjustice390 tumblr a/c in the boom process. Make such 4 ya citizen and place in credit dude to eliminate always up-to ya house syndrome to judge ya dude, or cut the photo diagonally even 4 inside rooms with same measuring scale, making the foundation and placing garbage on dug ditches and boom ya house and 4 container u just place in open air and save the ass of ya tribe dude big time

http://zigmacabin.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=85

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.harwalshelters.com%2Fproducts%2FewExternalFiles%2FPortacabin%2520office.png&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.harwalshelters.com%2Fproducts%2Fporta-cabins.html&tbnid=4OYsNB7sHkzNcM&vet=10CHwQMyiiAWoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAk..i&docid=ANAHWBwy-vrgQM&w=1356&h=630&q=cameroon%20made%20portacabin%20houses%20images&client=firefox-b-d&ved=0CHwQMyiiAWoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAk

https://www.ridaportablecabins.com/portable-cabin.html

https://dir.exporthub.com/supplier/prefabricated-houses-structures.html

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fzigmacabin.com%2Fimage%2Fcache%2Fcatalog%2Fproduct%2Fportable-cabin%2Fportable-office-cabin2-900x600.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fzigmacabin.com%2Findex.php%3Froute%3Dproduct%2Fproduct%26product_id%3D45&tbnid=CCAUiUZTtBnv4M&vet=10CK8BEDMougFqFwoTCPif46bfi-sCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ..i&docid=sVNOsWLSpK04nM&w=900&h=600&q=cameroon%20made%20portacabin%20houses%20images&client=firefox-b-d&ved=0CK8BEDMougFqFwoTCPif46bfi-sCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs.alicdn.com%2F%40sc01%2Fkf%2FHTB1pNCQQVXXXXb2XFXXq6xXFXXXI.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.alibaba.com%2Fcountrysearch%2FCN%2Fportable-cabins-for-sale.html&tbnid=DhYyCJ7SbGXPqM&vet=10CFsQMyiSAWoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAk..i&docid=ioRgx3xF3r9JuM&w=1000&h=1000&itg=1&q=cameroon%20made%20portacabin%20houses%20images&client=firefox-b-d&ved=0CFsQMyiSAWoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAk

https://www.alibaba.com/countrysearch/CN/house-construction.html

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs.alicdn.com%2F%40sc01%2Fkf%2FH4d6a605168574975a2a16f157a5855bbh.jpg_300x300.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.alibaba.com%2Fcountrysearch%2FCN%2Fhouse-construction.html&tbnid=zN4NXc7czBDCTM&vet=10CAQQxiAoAmoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAc..i&docid=LiuIos6XQcko1M&w=300&h=300&itg=1&q=cameroon%20made%20portacabin%20houses%20images&client=firefox-b-d&ved=0CAQQxiAoAmoXChMI-J_jpt-L6wIVAAAAAB0AAAAAEAc

https://www.google.com/search?q=cameroon+made+portacabin+houses+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwj4hvqS34vrAhUKhhoKHTRMDCkQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=cameroon+made+portacabin+houses+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1D3cFjMkgFg8ZsBaABwAHgAgAHFA4gBsxSSAQkwLjUuNC4xLjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZ8ABAQ&sclient=img&ei=rawuX7j8LoqMarSYscgC&bih=654&biw=1024&client=firefox-b-d

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=sa+made+portacabin+houses+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwigiPXt44vrAhWGERQKHS9ECV4QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

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sirjustice460-blog · 4 years

Text

it even calls 4 machiete

When u place carrot, sausages made out of carrot or catapult Y shaped stick in garbage makes even saucer jets as synonymous with Russian made 1 as u can google both in the boom process.

Angel Gabriel signaling angels about judging facts to take Back to Mr. Hindu was hurled down as in revelation and Peter the rock resumed/took his position as in the links below dude

https://biblehub.com/revelation/12-9.htm

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=judgement+of+jesus+in+heaven

When u place maize cob in Garbage like 4 the whole estate and place the above makes even E-air-plane both in the boom process as in the link below dude

https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=electric+passenger+airplane+images&qpvt=electric+passanger+airplane+images&form=IGRE&first=1&scenario=ImageBasicHover&cw=1117&ch=639

Made in Uganda car and plane in the links below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_wjymu4dW4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23NCVy04iV0

https://www.wired.com/2013/08/electric-airplane-for-sale/

India airplane link as well get a glimpse of what’s in other links below

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-41813389

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCyymbjzmmc

https://www.wired.com/2007/10/nigerian-studen/https://www.wired.com/2007/10/nigerian-studen/

https://www.facebook.com/242155683315911/photos/diy-home-made-electric-scooter/242190723312407/

https://www.amazon.com/slp/electric-remote-control-planes/xzov6h3ve7v85rm

https://autojosh.com/checkout-our-made-in-nigeria-keke-napep-photos/

https://www.icao.int/environmental-protection/Documents/EnvironmentalReports/2019/ENVReport2019_pg124-130.pdf

https://www.autoreportng.com/2019/11/see-amazing-electric-keke-napep-thats.html

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/322851867010892568/

https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/world-leaders-in-jackfruit-production.html

https://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/pdffiles/MG/MG37000.pdf

https://smartfarmerkenya.com/4754-2/

https://www.ajfand.net/Volume19/No2/Balamaze17290.pdf

Built in Uganda airline by KEBI in the link below as well as E-Norwegian airplane

http://bazzukulubabuganda.com/enyonyi_ezibuuka_eza_uganda_airlines.html

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jan/18/norway-aims-for-all-short-haul-flights-to-be-100-electric-by-2040

https://www.gettyimages.com/photos/stone-object?mediatype=photography&phrase=stone%20object&sort=mostpopular

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=images+of+gravel&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjhyvrthpDrAhWmDmMBHaQvCWUQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=891

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&q=images+of+mango+seed

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LL__exAp76A

With pumpkin made like car is 4 the young who wants to be big or wanting other people 4 love who are aged than them, if u drive such cars, such women pity u as can consider ya and most preferably good with tiny or small car but not suv as the reverse is of jack-fruit made 1 dude. Got to know this, don't just claim u r up to kids, thinking it will get always with u and no-where can overtake ya, don't just be bongo lala, just there, wanting good as women always wants from men dude. Don’t get into women without nothing 4 society to have pity on ya.

When though as above ya plans cant be blocked or known as with Britain, will always be like that, as u want not people to tell ya and u want to control them as is only u who knows how to behave not them, when it goes bad with u, get to my position when u were above me not vice versa wanting from me to the of being like a kid, dude beware it will be the scene of this series movie where the black woman who was frustrated aiming the gun at his boss who knows how to see/look previously when his dubious ways had not been known as in the link below but UK people now don't fear their cities being overtaken as they can expand Landon by building another Manhattan city island or residential land on its Atlantic coast as explained above. Put smile in ya face as the problem will solve it self as Landon is said to be crowded dude

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=the+old+guard+series+scenes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ScfkduNTbo

Luo people like bibo, have u acknowledged am above u in thinking--- hamano, hehe, have u dude, that way dude. I wanna hear the phrase ““we acknowledge u r above us dude“ again and again, Hamano and thats respect, where am snoring u dont come along and dude the same, got me dude, Hamano, Without me u could be still living in shanties and ya life could not have changed as now, True or false, that way dude, en hamamo, saying looking downward as a woman being seduced dude and that's how it ought to be fro beginning.

Click the link below 4 more dude, of wanna bees/kich/nyuki, beatitudes with Christ bro

https://whitepeopletwitter.tumblr.com/post/626023511695212544

Counterfeit products, make a bar code software on phones to detect the same when no company placed automated vending machine.

They now champion less kids not as earlier as to increase a/c no that can withdraw cash from 2goinvoice which name has been changed and not told many people as it can be like its predecessor dude.

http://zigmacabin.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=85

https://www.ridaportablecabins.com/portable-cabin.html

https://dir.exporthub.com/supplier/prefabricated-houses-structures.html

https://www.alibaba.com/countrysearch/CN/house-construction.html

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=sa+made+portacabin+houses+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwigiPXt44vrAhWGERQKHS9ECV4QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

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