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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count: ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

Tag list: @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl

#does reader forgive wilhemina too quickly in that one?#yes #but i want to give w all the love and no one but god can stop me #ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #fics

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superfreakerz · 3 years

Text

TDDUP 32

“Til Death Do Us Part”

Rated M for smut and heavy themes.

Reincarnation/Immortal AU

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it’s best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Chapter 32

The New Semester

Lucy frowned as she got ready for the new semester. The rest of winter break went by in the blink of an eye. She had partied at Fairy Tail during New Years and even called her father to catch up and wish him a happy new year. Every day during the break was spent with Natsu and their friends, which made the new term that much harder.

Last quarter, she had every class with at least someone from their group. Now, she has absolutely none. Disappointed was an understatement when she received her schedule. She was devastated. She hated the thought of not seeing her friends in class, and she hated the thought of starting over even more.

"C'mon, Luce. Cheer up. It's not the end of the world if we don't have classes together," Natsu's voice rang out. He spent nearly every night at her apartment, it was rare when he was at his own place.

"Easy for you to say!" she shot back. "You at least have a friend in every class!"

"Friend? I only have Gray in all my classes. That's not a blessing, that's a curse! That's worse than immortality!"

Lucy only rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever. Point is, I'm going to be all alone! I'll have to make new friends! And in case you don't remember, I suck at that!"

"What do you mean? You made friends with all of us!"

"That's only because Levy introduced us. And she was the one to come up to me when we first met. I can't make friends on my own! And let's not forget that our first meeting went horribly!"

Natsu smoothed a hand over the back of her head. "Quit worrying so much. You'll be fine, I promise. And even if you don't make friends, I already told you that I'll pick you up from class everyday so we can go to Fairy Tail together and meet up with the rest of the gang. It's not like we're going to stop being friends just because we're in different classes. You're stuck with us now that you know our secret."

Lucy laughed. "Oh, I don't need you to pick me up today. I'm going to meet with Aquarius after my classes. But I guess you're right."

"I always am! Now hurry up and finish getting ready."

Wanting to look nice on her first day of class, Lucy threw on a pair of light jeans and a white sweater. It was still winter, so she couldn't show off her body just yet.

"Alright, I'm heading out now!" she called out.

Natsu gave her a quick kiss, sending her off with a grin. "Have fun!"

Lucy was surprised she was relatively early to her first class, taking a seat in the back. This quarter, all three of her classes were squeezed into the same days, but luckily she only had classes Tuesday and Thursday. That left her with the rest of the week to do whatever she wanted. Her first class was English with a professor named Virgo. According to Makarov, she was also a reincarnation. Lucy hoped she would be able to talk to her about it.

Suddenly, the seat next to her was pulled out. Lucy turned to find a boy with dirty blonde hair sitting next to her, flashing her a dazzling smile. His eyes were dark, his lashes long. If Lucy were single, she was sure she would be swooning over the pretty boy.

"Nice to meet you," the boy said, taking her hand in his. "I'm Hibiki. What might your name be, beautiful?"

Lucy was taken aback by his brazenness, reminded of her first boyfriend. "I'm Lucy."

"Lucy. What a pretty name!"

"Uhh, thanks."

"So, Lucy, what year are you?"

"I'm a freshman."

Hibiki gasped. "Me too! It must be fate that we met today!"

Lucy nearly rolled her eyes. "Fate? This is English 101, everyone here is a freshman."

Before Hibiki could reply, someone cleared their throat at the front of the room, grabbing her attention. It was a woman, relatively short with a pink pixie cut. Her eyes were a jaded blue.

"I'm Virgo, your professor for this quarter."

Lucy leaned forward in her seat, eager to learn more about the fellow reincarnation.

Once class ended, Lucy quickly packed her things before heading to her next class. She wished she could have talked to Virgo about reincarnation, but there were too many people around, not to mention she had limited time to make it to her next class. Not that there was a need to rush. She had all quarter to talk to the fellow reincarnation.

During her walk across campus, Lucy was surprised to find that Hibiki was walking along with her.

"Umm, is there a reason you're going this way?" she asked, starting to get weirded out by the boy.

He arched his brow. "My class is this way."

"Oh, okay."

When Lucy made it to her next class, she stopped outside the door to glare at Hibiki, who had followed her all the way there.

"Okay, you're stalking me," she said, crossing her arms.

Hibiki laughed awkwardly. "I'm not, I swear! I have this class!"

"There's no way we're in the same class! Show me your schedule!" The boy handed her his schedule, which she glossed over quickly. "Wait, we share every class together! How the hell did that happen?"

"I told you it was fate!" Hibiki exclaimed, grabbing Lucy's hand. He went to place a kiss over it, but she snatched it away.

"I can't believe how similar you are to an old friend of mine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"This friend of yours must have been charming!"

She laughed, and in a voice laced with sarcasm she replied, "Big time. Well, if we're going to be in all the same classes together, we might as well be friends. But no funny business, alright? I have a boyfriend."

Hibiki held his chest in mock pain. "I should have known a girl as beautiful as yourself was taken."

The two walked to the back of the classroom, taking their seats.

"So, what are you majoring in?" Lucy asked. She wasn't used to making friends on her own, but with Hibiki's laidback and all too familiar personality, she found it easy to slide into a conversation.

"Computer science. What about you?"

"Creative writing."

Lucy was about to ask the boy where he was from when their professor stepped into the room. He was a tall and lanky man with black hair. Unlike Virgo, he was a bit older, a couple of wrinkles adorning his face around his mouth. He wore a dark green turtleneck and black slacks that accentuated his slender legs.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Sagittarius. I will be your World History professor. I assume everyone came prepared with their textbooks."

Lucy sweat dropped. It was only the first day of the quarter, she didn't have her textbook yet. As if sensing her dilemma, she felt Hibiki nudge her elbow that was resting on the desk before he slid his textbook between the two of them to share. She shot him a quick grin.

"Thanks," she whispered.

He returned the smile. "Don't mention it."

Class seemed to drag on forever, Sagittarius' emotionless voice doing nothing to help as he discussed the contents of the first chapter. While Lucy may not have been an immortal who lived through most of the world's events, she had still been around long enough to have been through a good chunk of them. That, along with taking the same classes every lifetime, made learning relatively easy.

Once class ended, Lucy and Hibiki walked to a small coffee shop that was on campus. They had thirty minutes before their next class, and considering it was the first day, they didn't have too much homework to do yet. Instead, they decided to chat over a cup of coffee, which Lucy insisted on paying for since Hibiki was nice enough to share his textbook and send pictures of the portions she would need for homework later.

Lucy found it strange just how similar Hibiki was to her first boyfriend. She figured that was why it was easy to open up to him. Already familiar with flirty playboys, his personality didn't scare her away. Instead, it made things easier.

"I guess making friends isn't so hard."

The two talked about everything, ranging from where they grew up to what they wanted to do after college. Lucy had to admit, it was fun making new friends.

When they headed to their last class for the day, they took seats in the back yet again. It didn't take long for their professor to stumble in the room. Lucy's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets seeing how absolutely ripped the man was. It looked like his white button-up shirt was going to pop any second with how large his muscles were.

"Yo! I'm Taurus!" the man exclaimed. His eyes filtered around the room, hearts practically shining in them whenever they glazed over a girl. Lucy wondered how he was able to teach given his pervy attitude.

Yet, when he started to go over the math topics they were going to learn over the quarter, all playfulness disappeared from his voice, replaced with seriousness. Unlike with Sagittarius, Taurus was surprisingly good at keeping the class engaged, and despite how hard to believe it was, he managed to make math seem somewhat interesting. Time practically flew by. To make matters even better, Taurus dismissed them without assigning any homework.

Heading out of the classroom, Hibiki invited Lucy to hang out.

"Thanks, but I have an old professor I want to catch up with," Lucy said with a smile. She was proud of herself for having made a friend already, one that even wanted to hang out with her after school.

Hibiki's eyes widened. "Oh, is it your boyfriend? Are you dating your old professor?"

"What? No! My boyfriend goes to this school too, but he's not a professor. Just a student."

"Oh. I'd love to meet the man that stole your heart! He must be quite the specimen!"

Lucy laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure you'll meet him someday considering he plans on picking me up from school everyday. Anyways, I have to go. I'll see you Thursday!"

Waving a quick goodbye to her new friend, Lucy headed towards Aquarius' office. It was clear that Aquarius knew about her reincarnation, so why didn't she ever say anything instead of giving cryptic clues? And how did she even know about it in the first place? Had she slipped up in any way? If that was the case, she needed to know to make sure not to repeat the mistake in the future.

Reaching the cranky professor's office, Lucy peered inside to find the woman glaring at her computer screen. She wasn't surprised that there weren't any students utilizing Aquarius' office hours. After all, she was terrifying.

Feeling irked that Aquarius had kept things hidden from her, Lucy strode inside the office without bothering to knock and planted her hands on her hips with a glare. The older woman glanced up at her, a scowl immediately gracing her face.

"What do you want, brat? I thought I was finally free of you," she remarked.

Lucy closed the door behind her, locking it. "How did you know about me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Makarov already told me about you, along with the others. Why didn't you tell me?"

Aquarius sighed, the scowl on her face finally relenting. When she looked back up at Lucy, her features were softer, a rare expression on the woman's face.

"We wanted you to find out on your own," she finally answered. "I assume Makarov told you about Acnologia and the other immortals?"

Lucy nodded. "Yeah. He told me about how we're all being hunted by some psychopath."

"And how did you take it?"

"...Not well, I guess."

"That's why I decided it was best not to tell you."

"But why?" Lucy asked. "Obviously I would have liked to know that there are others like me! What does Acnologia have to do with anything!?"

Because I didn't want you to be paranoid," Aquarius answered. "Do you know how many reincarnations live in fear for the rest of their lives, over and over again all because they found out about Acnologia? We already have enough to worry about, it's better not to have the knowledge of yet another threat to us. Besides, I was also doing it for you and Pinkie."

"You mean Natsu? What does he have to do with it?"

"Well you're dating, aren't you? I didn't want you to get scared of him since he's an immortal and all."

Lucy choked on her saliva. "W-What? How did you know about that?"

Aquarius sighed, tired of having to explain things. "I know about all of the immortals enrolled at this school, even the ones that are in Fairy Tail's basement. Considering the past between reincarnations and immortals, we are given information about each immortal so that we can choose if we want to work here or not."

"So you really knew this whole time? How did you know about me?"

"I actually met you in your first life."

Lucy felt the wind getting knocked out of her with that revelation. Feeling dizzy, she took a seat across from Aquarius, resting her head in her hands.

"I don't remember you," she finally said, meeting the older woman's gaze.

"That's because you were just a baby at the time," Aquarius replied.

"How did you know about me then? You couldn't have possibly recognized me when I was just a baby."

"I was friends with your mom. You're strangely enough the spitting image of her- though you lack all of her grace. When I first saw you, I thought that you were her and that she was a reincarnation as well. Until I found out your name, then I remembered that she named her daughter Lucy. It wasn't too hard to put the pieces together after that, though I did do a bit of research on you as well just to be sure."

Lucy gave a sad smile remembering her first mother. "I can't believe you knew her."

"It was a shock to me too when I first saw you," Aquarius replied, her own lips tugging upwards into a smile. "She was a fine woman, which is why it's so surprising you turned out like that. It must be the fault of the rest of your parents." Lucy shot her a glare before Aquarius continued, "Anyways, it was my idea to keep you from the truth, so don't even think about getting mad at Scorpio and the others."

"Don't worry, I'm not mad anymore. Just a little surprised is all. I still can't believe there are so many others like me, and that there are so many near me too."

"Who are your teachers this quarter?"

"Virgo, Sagittarius, and Taurus."

"Ah. Did you know they're all reincarnations too?"

Lucy grinned cheek to cheek. "Wow! I heard Virgo was, but I didn't know Sagittarius and Taurus were too!"

Aquarius nodded. "If you want, you would probably be allowed to teach here if you wanted. All you have to do is turn in an application to Makarov. You'd be allowed to come here every lifetime if you choose to do so."

Lucy considered the option. Truthfully, she had no idea what the future had in store for her. Still, it was nice to have another option available to her. Especially since this one allowed her to stay near Natsu and the others.

After chatting with Aquarius for another hour, Lucy finally decided to head over to Fairy Tail where her friends were waiting for her. Sure enough, when she strode inside the pub, she found Levy and Natsu hunched over, dejected from the conversation that was taking place around them.

"Why do you two look so upset?" Lucy asked once she approached them.

The two lit up like Christmas trees at the sight of her.

"Finally!" Natsu exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and gesturing for her to sit down. "We've been waiting forever! It sucks not having classes together!"

"Weren't you the one telling me it wasn't a big deal?"

"Well I changed my mind! It sucks!"

Levy nodded with the boy. "I agree! I've been wanting to talk to you all day about your story! I finally finished it!"

"Already!?"

"Yeah! We've gotta talk about it!"

"Shouldn't you guys give her room to breathe?" Gray asked with a chuckle. Natsu and Levy were practically leeching onto the poor blonde. "Anyways, how was talking to Aquarius?"

Lucy smiled. "It was nice. She explained how she knew me and why she didn't tell me about it in the first place. Oh, she also told me that if I wanted to, I could probably teach at the university after graduation."

"Are you going to?" Erza asked.

"I don't know yet. There's a lot to think about. But since I'm still a freshman, I have plenty of time to mull it over."

Natsu stared at the blonde beside him. In truth, her teaching at the university sounded like a dream come true considering it meant she would stay in Magnolia. Then they could stay together forever, even in her next lives. Not wanting to come off too strong or pressure her in any way, the boy decided to keep his thoughts to himself for now.

He didn't know what the future entailed for the two of them. He knew that he wanted to be with Lucy for the rest of his infinite life, but that was a lot to ask of someone. He knew firsthand how long life could be, he didn't know if Lucy would feel tied down. After all, she lived in different countries, had different families, her life was forever changing while his stayed the same. Not to mention most of the time he was kept in the basement. What if she wanted to go on a date? What if she got tired of hanging out in his room? There was nothing he could do about it, and he wasn't sure the girl would want to put up with it. After all, who would?

Swallowing thickly, Natsu pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. It was like Lucy said, they had plenty of time to figure it out. But no matter how many times he repeated that thought in his head, the worries he had were only swept under a thin veil that threatened to fly away with the slightest gust of wind. And he was sure they were going to come back sooner or later.

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #tddup #til death do us part #super writes #nalu fanfiction

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yesttoheaven · 3 years

Text

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

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a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet #neil #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson imagine #tenet fanfic #tenet imagine #ives tenet #tenet #neil tenet one shot #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson one shot #neil tenet x y/n #x y/n #amor fati #eternal return

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littlemissaddict · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven

Request: could you maybe do a reggie x reader where theyre playing spin the bottle/7 minutes in heaven? like not a smut but they do make out and it gets pretty heated?

Word count: 2724

A/n: I’m sorry this took so long to write, I had to rewrite it a couple of times because I didn’t like how it was turning out and I’m still not 100% happy with it but I hope you like it.

The sound of a book hitting the table by her head is what broke her from her daze as she stared blankly at the textbook in front of her. Blinking a couple of times to refocus her vision she turned to see the person responsible for the noise.

"It's Friday night what are you doing in the library?" Rose questioned, her hand rested on her hip the other one on the table beside y/n as she raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm getting a head start on the assignment due for English next week" she stated as if it was obvious because the last thing she wanted to do was rush it and risk dropping her grade.

"Well we got a party to go to so that will have to wait" Rose responds, letting out an exasperated sigh when y/n shakes her head and goes back to her work. "Come on I promised Bobby we would go" she pleads sitting down on the empty seat next to her.

"Just because I'm not going doesn't mean you can't" y/n mumbled not looking away from the textbook she was using for research.

"But Reggie’s going to be there," Rose says in a singsong voice with a sly smile on her face which turns into a giggle when she sees y/n's hands still against the pages and hears her breath catch.

It had been about two year since Rose and Bobby had met during one of their shared college classes and he was always inviting her to parties which she ended up dragging y/n along too so it wasn't long before she had introduced y/n to Bobby’s best friends and bandmates. Ever since then y/n had been completely gone for the bassist and Rose knew that she could get her to do anything if it involved Reggie.

"You can't keep using him against me" she groans, turning to face Rose, a small pout on her face.

"So does that mean you're coming?" Rose asks, letting out a cheer, which earns her a couple of glares from others in the library, when she confirms that she is. "Let's go!" She says rushing y/n who's struggling to fit her books and laptop back into her bag before she follows, both girls heading back to their shared dorm room.

Once they're back at the dorm, Rose connects her phone to the speaker to play music while they get ready as y/n goes straight to looking through her clothes for something to wear. She pulls out a couple of outfits but Rose shakes her head at them and even offers her one of her dresses but she declines as dresses never really were her thing.

"Wait what about them?" Rose exclaims excitedly, reaching for the trousers that she had been talked into buying on their last shopping trip. They were skin tight black faux leather and reminded her of the ones that Olivia Newton John wore at the end of Grease.

"I don't know" she says hesitantly until Rose hands her a black bardot crop top telling her that they would look killer with her favourite heeled boots "okay fine, so where's the party at" she asks, laying the clothes out on the bed before reaching for her make up.

"No idea, somewhere off campus but we're meeting Bobby and the guys in about an hour so we better hurry up" Rose tells her as she checks the time on her phone.

Both girls are just about ready when there's a knock at the door followed by Bobby's voice asking they're ready. Rose answers letting them know they'll be a couple more minutes and she hears a loud groan from the other side of the door as she adds the finishing touches to her makeup and Rose finishes off clearing the clothes that they had left out from earlier.

"Finally" Bobby exclaims as the two girls exit the room. Rose playfully slaps his arm telling him to behave and he rolls his eyes in response but the smile on his face lets her know that he's only playing.

The girls greet Bobby properly once he's finished teasing them and they hear a disgruntled Luke calling them from a little further down the hallway.

"Hey Bobby’s not the only one here" he calls as he pouts at them but it quickly disappears when they acknowledge them. Y/n's gaze drifts from Luke to Alex and then finally to Reggie, where she lets her gaze stay a little longer than she should and the boy definitely notices sending her a wink as she feels herself flush slightly under his gaze.

The group make their way out of the dorm building, Bobby and Rose taking the lead with Luke animatedly explaining something to Alex a couple of steps behind them which leaves her and Reggie at the back of the group. She notices that Reggie seems quieter than usual and she's not sure why but she brushes it off assuming it's because they're not that close so they don't really have a lot to talk about, although she doesn't miss the way that Reggie keeps glancing over at her before pulling his gaze away when she catches him.

It only takes about fifteen minutes of walking before they come to a street where the party must be as they can hear the music as soon as they turn onto it, which leaves her wondering how they haven't had any noise complaints yet from neighbours. Although she didn’t have long to ponder the thought as the group were making their way through the front door to the house and the boys disappeared as soon as they got there so the girls went to find themselves a drink.

“So what’s going on between you and Bobby?” she asks, taking the plastic cup from Rose after she finishes mixing the drink for her.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing going on” Rose says a little bit too defensively for there to be nothing between the two.

“Oh come on, the way you look at each other; how you always pair up with him whenever we do anything as a group; the way you act with each other. Would you like me to go on?” Y/n states with a raise of her eyebrow as she peers over the rim of the cup at her friend as she takes a sip.

“Okay maybe I do like him a little bit but I’m not sure he feels the same” Rose replies with a small sigh causing y/n to shake her head at the other girl.

“You’re joking right, have you seen the way her looks at you? I’m like 100% sure he’s in love with you” she says with a slight giggle at the look of shock that crosses Rose’s face.

“Okay, well what about you and Reggie?” Rose shoots back with an expectant look on her face as if she’s going to tell her something she doesn’t already know.

“Me and Reggie? The two of us together are nonexistent except in my mind. I mean did you see him on the walk over here he wouldn’t even speak to me and usually you can’t get the boy to be quiet” she chuckles, trying not to let on how much it pains her to admit it because at this point she’s sure the feelings she has for the boy in question are more than just a simple crush.

“Okay but he definitely likes you, did you see the way he stared when we left the dorm and he kept looking at you on the way over her” Rose points out and she lets out a chuckle leaving y/n confused until she adds “I just remembered that Bobby told me that whenever we’ve hung out as a group or even if Reggie sees you he will talk forever about you”

Y/n feels a blush spread across her cheeks at that and finds herself avoiding Rose’s gaze when she next speaks. “Alright enough about boys lets go and have fun” as they go in search of the others.

They don’t make it far before they come crashing into Luke who has a big smile on his face. “Ah just the girls I was looking for, would either of you be up for a game of seven minutes in heaven?” he asks.

“Um.. Who’s playing?” Rose asks as Y/n just raises her eyebrows at him.

Luke chuckles at their responses before he answers “I don’t know who most of them are we kind of just stumbled across and asked if we could join but Alex refused as he has Willie; Bobby claimed there was only one person he would want to play with” Luke said, aiming at a wink at Rose as he told her about Bobby “so it’s just me and Reg unless you want to join” he adds as he waits for their replies.

“You go, I’m going to go find Bobby” Rose smirks at her as she walks away in the direction that Luke pointed at leaving her to be pulled along by Luke.

Luke leads her upstairs to a room which turns out to be a bedroom where there are about seven people, including Reggie, sat in a circle. After they’ve joined the circle someone places an empty beer bottle in the middle and spins it, they all watch as it lands on the boy to her left. She lets out a quiet sigh, which only Luke seems to hear, when she sees that the bottle hasn’t landed on her as the two get up and make their way to what looks like a closet at the far side of the room that she missed upon entering the room. Someone sets a timer and conversation breaks out while they wait and Luke, who seems to know everyone, introduces her to the girl on his right as he chats excitedly about a small upcoming show the boys have which seems to interest the girl. However y/n gets distracted by the feeling that someone is staring at her and she turns to find Reggie’s gaze locked on her. She shoots him a questioning look and she watches as color flares on his cheeks when he realises he’s been caught but then the timer goes off before anything else can happen.

The two step out from the closest looking a little ruffled and as they sit down to join the game again, someone else leans forward to spin the bottle and everyone watches waiting for it to stop. This carries on for another couple of turns until it’s Reggie’s turn to spin the bottle and she holds her breath as they wait for it to come to a stop and when it does it lands directly between her and Luke.

“I guess you get to choose between the two” someone speaks up but she doesn’t catch who said it as she’s too busy looking at Reggie as color flares on his cheeks again.

“Sorry Luke but it’s gotta be y/n” he finally speaks up and can’t believe what's about to happen. She’s spent so long imagining this and it’s about to happen but she’s glad that Rose isn’t here because she would definitely bring it up.

Luke gasps dramatically, feigning hurt as he brings his hand up to his chest as he speaks “And here I thought we had something” he jokes getting a few laughs from the others in the room including Reggie and herself.

Reggie leads her into the closet and once the door shuts he goes still which leaves her feeling confused, although she’s not exactly sure what she was expecting to happen.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to” she tells him, reaching forward and blindly finding his hand which seems to male him jump so she goes to let go but he squeezes it tightly not letting her.

“No it’s not that, I want to it’s just I really like you and I don’t want to ruin this” he admits, his voice quiet and that’s when she realises that despite all his flirting and the confidence that radiates off of him, he’s just like everyone else, a little bit insecure.

“That’s not going to happen because I really like you too and I want this, I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t want to” she assures him and before she has a chance to take a breath Reggie crashes his lips against hers in a bruising kiss that she wasn’t expecting so it takes her a second to react but when she does she kisses him back with just as much passion as him.

Reggie lets go of her hand to rest his hands on her waist as he lets his fingers brush against the exposed skin there which makes her shiver. Whereas she trails her hands up his chest and over his shoulders until she can tangle her fingers into his perfectly styled hair and mess it up a little bit. He bites her bottom lip as she tugs on his hair which draws a gasp from her parted lips. Moving away from her lips, he traces gentle kisses down her jaw to her neck until he reaches the spot just below her ear where he grazes his teeth against the skin which makes her breath hitch and her finger tighten in his hair again and he groans into her neck but doesn’t stop his kisses which he begins trailing lower down her neck to her collar bones and she knows there will be marks for to cover in the morning.

She’s breathing heavily at this point as Reggie’s hands leave her waist, moving higher until there pushing under the edge of her top until he stops over her chest, palming the tender flesh over her bra and she can’t help the roll of her hips against his which causes him to stop his assault of kisses against her neck.

“Do that again” he asks as he lifts his head to kiss her properly again, moaning against her lips as she does. She does it one more time before a voice from the other side of the door is telling them that time is up. Reggie groans in frustration as he pulls away from her lips causing her to giggle.

“Do you wanna ditch the game and maybe get a drink?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to her lips again when she agrees and they exit the closet. Reggie lets everyone know they’re leaving as the head for the door and down the stairs to the kitchen where they fill up their cups and then head into the garden where it’s a little bit quieter so they can talk.

“I’m sorry about messing up your hair” she giggles when she notices Reggie, running his hands through it to try and style it again.

“Don’t worry about it because if anyone should be sorry it should be me for marking up your neck” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he brings one of his hands up to trace the red marks on her collarbones which makes her shiver. “Are you cold?” he asks when he notices and he’s already pulling off his leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders before she has the chance to reply.

She thanks him as she runs her hands over the smooth leather against her body and she takes in the way his eyes run down her body. When he finally meets her eyes again his pupils are wide and he’s biting his lip “It’s a good look on you, you look ho- um you look good, really good” he rambles taking a step closer to her and glancing down to her lips.

“Do you wanna leave, we could head back to my room?” she suggests, as she feels her phone buzz in her pocket.

“You sure? What about Rose?” he asks, meeting her gaze again.

“Won’t be a problem, looks like she’s heading back with Bobby” she grins, showing him the message and letting out a yelp of surprise when he takes her hand and pulls her along with him back to the dorms.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #Reggie Peters #jatp reggie #reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #luke patterson #jatp luke #Alex Mercer #jatp alex #jatp bobby #original female character #seven minutes in heaven #college au #requested

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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

ellipsism.

gold is a bluer color than blue.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: angst / soulmate + high school au word count :: 1,734 words warnings :: gang, blood, violence, death song :: you were good to me (jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler)

You order a chocolate milkshake.

You never had one before, but they were his favorite.

The boy with blue hair drank them so often that they were all you could taste when your lips pressed against his. He would place one hand on your cheek with the other gently grasping you by the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until he kissed you dizzy. The slightest hints of chocolate stained his breath as he whispered sweet nothings that meant everything to you. He mumbled i love you’s between each breath, sang you lullabies before every exchange of good night’s, and called you endearments sweeter than the sugary concoction he found so much delight in.

The drink is placed in front of you. Fingers curling around the base of the glass, you take a small sip, reveling in the nostalgic taste. You smile.

Chocolate milkshakes might be your favorite, too.

The boy with blue hair was a heartbreakingly beautiful enigma wrapped in a well worn leather jacket and a false bravado that fell apart easily beneath your fingertips once you had found yourself occupying every crevice of his heart. He was blue skies turning into cotton candy pink, whispered wishes slipped between birthday candles, vibrantly yellow dandelions peeking out between cracked pavement, the last wisps of dusk settling into twilight, and the nostalgic song that nestled itself within your years of adolescence and yet, you couldn’t remember the title of for the life of you. He was quiet laughter hidden between the dusty bookshelves of a library, kept promises that were sealed with looped pinkies, stolen kisses as the sunset spilled across the sky, and chilled chocolate milkshakes on a warm day.

Falling in love with the boy with blue hair and a heart wrenching smile was never on your list of things to do in high school, and you didn’t think falling in love with you was on his list either, but love had a funny way of working itself out. A chance encounter on your walk home, an innocent offer of tissues towards your usually absent classmate with a bloody nose, and one glance at this vibrant boy who seemed to hold entire galaxies in his eyes were all it took for you to go head over heels for Na Jaemin.

But you’d also have to thank your soulmate—whoever they were—because if Jaemin hadn’t noticed the odd words stating “Save me a milkshake?” tattooed across your wrist in ebony ink, he wouldn’t have offered to buy you a milkshake in return for the tissues. While sitting in the diner on the corner of Camellia Boulevard and Arcadia Street for the very first time, you found out he was much luckier than you as he showed off a neatly written “I promise” on his wrist.

In a world where soulmate signs came in all different shapes and forms, you were fortunate that yours was straightforward and easy-to-hide. It was supposed to be a simple transition of black into gold as your indicator. It was certainly better than Donghyuck’s sign whose hair color changed every few days courtesy of his soulmate. When you told the boy with blue hair about the day your friend was sporting rainbow streaks, the genuine grin gracing his face as he laughed loudly made him look like an angel, and well, angels never hurt anyone, right?

The boy with blue hair never told you why he was sporting a bruised lip and carmine stains at your very first shared interaction, but you were no stranger to all the swirling rumors at school about the wrong crowd he ran with and the affiliations he had with the darker side of the city. However, you never pried, accepting that he would tell you when the time came and he was ready.

And today, he was finally ready. He was ready to leave that part of his past behind, ready to move on, ready to take charge of his life with you by his side. He was going to tell you today.

Friday afternoons were always reserved for you, but unfortunately, he had to meet with someone from his past one final time. He secretly texted you in class, asking you to meet up a little later than usual at your and his favorite diner where the two of you like to argue over the superior milkshake flavor (you adamantly insist that vanilla is better). When he received your affirmative reply a few minutes later along with a slew of pretty heart emojis, he beamed brightly before sending back a generous amount of cute emojis in response.

He was excited to show you the A he got on his English paper: the one that you helped him outline and that he stayed up all night perfecting. This was the first time he had put so much time and effort into an assignment, and his teacher was more than thrilled when she received the carefully stapled papers with his name proudly stamped across the cover page. His grades were slowly, but steadily improving, and it was all because of you. He even discovered that he really liked his computer science class and began to research potential classes at nearby community colleges.

Clutching his prized paper in hand, Jaemin stood at the intended meeting spot, enjoying the light drizzle of the rain overhead. The sun barely peeked out from behind the darkening clouds, causing the water droplets to glimmer and gleam as they fell. The gentle pattering of tiny raindrops against his face felt refreshing, almost like a new beginning, a quiet reminder of the rainbow that came afterwards.

Jaemin heard the awful squelching noise before he felt it.

It was an uncomfortable pressure at first until it increased in pain and spread across his abdomen, a cold feeling worming its way up and wrapping around his figure. He had found himself dropping onto the damp concrete, curling in on himself as the papers fluttered loosely from his hand, stained in dark shades of cerise that made its way across the ground.

The blurry figure standing above him stood still for a minute before darting off. No loose ends, he could hear his former boss’s voice echoing in his head. It was what he was told the first time he stepped foot on their territory. How naive of him to believe that they would let him go so easily.

Dragging himself towards the wall behind several empty dumpsters, he propped himself up, pressing down on the wound as best he could but the rivulets of carmine spilled much too quickly and easily, slipping between his fingers. It’s futile, and he knew it, the increasingly harsher waves of pain washing over him with every ticking second. He absentmindedly stared at the A and smiley face adorning his paper in red ink, now barely distinguishable from the other glaring hues of vermilion. The rain poured down, turning the paper translucent as it began to tear around the edges.

Mind going numb from everything but the thought of you—you who was still waiting patiently for someone who would never come—he painstakingly pulled out his phone from his jacket, the device almost falling from his grasp. He clumsily fumbled with it for a few moments before he managed to hit the right buttons. You answered on the first ring, and he smiled, small tendrils of warmth blooming from his heart at the sound of your voice. You were the rose among his garden of thorns, the green light on the other side of the shore, and the beacon of light in the midst of a storm.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, taking a deep breath. He hoped that you didn’t notice the way his voice wavered nor the way his breath quickened with every passing second. He hoped that you knew he tried so hard to not fall in love with you, so that you wouldn’t get hurt because of him. He hoped that you could forgive him for falling in love with you anyways. He hoped that you could forgive him for being selfish for the one last time.

“Hey, where are you? Are you alright?” Your worried tone was evident, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt tired, his eyelids drooping slowly, yet he still forced himself to stay awake. He’s sorry for lying to you. “Yeah, I’m fine, just running a little late. Are you already there?”

“Yeah, I just ordered a vanilla milkshake for myself. You know, the best flavor,” you teased him, and he relaxed against the bricks, phone held loosely in his hand.

“Oh, really? I think you’re wrong.”

You scoffed, and he could easily picture the way the corners of your lips tug up into a smile that you desperately try to hide. “ You know what? I’m gonna get you a vanilla one right now instead of chocolate. This is what happens when you’re late.”

“You sure you’re not just buying a second one for yourself?” he laughed softly, and you gasped indignantly. “What do you take me for? A milkshake thief? Maybe I should just drink it myself.”

“No!” He weakly protested, breath growing shallower and weaker. He shakily held up his phone, desperately pressing it against his ear. If he closed his eyes, it was almost as if you were right here, talking to him. He could pretend that he was sitting next to you on vinyl covered seats as you share a plate of fries over vanilla and chocolate milkshakes and his fingers shyly brush against yours as he picks up a fry. He could vividly see how your eyes sparkle as you tell him about your day, and he’ll stare at you, enamored and starry eyed, as some retro love song plays from the jukebox in the corner.

“Can you promise me something?” he said quietly. The pauses between each heart palpitation grew wider and further apart, and he could faintly hear you answer yes over his slowing heartbeats. He inhaled sharply, his breath stuttering, as he forced the words through his teeth, clenching tightly onto the phone like a lifeline.

“Save me a milkshake?”

On the other side of town, in a tiny booth tucked in a corner of a 1950s themed restaurant, four little words started to shimmer in gold.

“I promise.”

The boy with blue hair smiled.

As the sky wept, a splash of gold twinkled innocently against the darkening asphalt.

#jaemin scenarios #jaemin angst #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #jaemin x reader #nct angst #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic #jaemin fanfic #nct scenario #nct dream fic #na jaemin #jaemin #nct #nct dream

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

For Better, For Worse II (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: In which the reader honors her vows.

Warnings: Language, Soft Ransom (is that a warning?), SPOILERS (if you haven’t watched Knives Out & you should get on that lol), bad writing, angst, flashbacks, slight violence, hints of mental illness, it’s also not proofread

Word Count: 1762

Feedback is appreciated!

READ PART ONE HERE

When you first met Ransom, he was nothing short of a complete asshole. He flirted aimlessly and got what he wanted – a true spoiled brat. You were the first girl he ever encountered that simply shrugged him off and told him to ‘get lost’. From that moment, he was infatuated with you.

You remembered how he’d walk you to class despite his being on the opposite side of the campus. He asked you out on multiple dates and you shot him down every single time. You remembered how your friends discouraged you from falling for him. Like them, you were under the notion that Hugh Ransom Drysdale was nothing but a trust-fund prick. But sometimes – and it was rare, you promised yourself – you found yourself enjoying his company.

It would be as you were walking from the library back to your dorms. You would drop your books. And like a scene straight out a movie, Ransom would materialize out of nowhere and help you pick up your belongings.

It would be at a party and your friends had gone off with their significant others, effectively leaving you stranded and alone. Ransom would wave away at his friends as he took the empty spot next to you on the wall.

“I hate Professor Fitzgerald.” He muttered to you.

“You don’t have that class?” You tilted your head.

“No, but you do. English 1302. And I know you hate him.” Ransom smirked as he took a sip from his red cup.

“And how would you know that?” You asked.

“Because every time you’d walk out of his lecture, you have the cutest little crease between your brows.” You frowned at his words.

“I do not,” you scoffed.

Ransom only chuckled, pointing at your face. “See! Right there!”

You laughed, pushing him away. “You have it, too.” Ransom frowned, mockingly. “Aha! Right there!”

“What a pair we are, huh?”

“Fuck off, Drysdale.”

“Keep saying it enough, it’ll be yours.” He laughed.

“What?”

“My last name. Keep saying it enough, it’ll be yours.” He said, matter-of-factly.

“Whatever, Hugh.”

You remembered months after his constant ‘courting’ of you, he showed up to your dorm. It was in the middle of a Friday night – your roommate had gone to a party – and it was pouring. He was soaked from the rain and he gave you a sluggish smile and held out a bouquet of lilies, your favorite flower. You were about to slam the door in his face when he stopped it.

-=+=-

“Why don’t you want me?” He asked you and for a second, he sounded hurt. You scoffed in response as you tried to pry his hands off from wood of the door. “Seriously,” Ransom continued, “I’m trying.”

“You’re trying?” You laughed, coldly. “You’re borderline stalking me, Hugh.” He cringed as his first name left your mouth. “You’re just playing a stupid game. How much did you bet?”

Ransom frowned. “Bet?”

“Yeah. How much are your buddies giving you once you announce to the world you got me in bed? How ‘bout you just tell your friends you bagged me and leave me the fuck alone!”

“It’s not a bet, (Y/N).” Ransom shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his. “I’m not playing a game. If anything, you are.”

“How am I playing a game?” You snapped.

“Because clearly, I like you and you just keep playing hard to get. But fine by me.” He coughed a bit. You stopped trying to slam the door in his face – and possibly his hand – when you realized how pale he looked. “I’ll keep playing your game. I’ll keep putting in more and more effort ‘cause damn, you’ve got me under your spell.”

“Ransom…” you muttered as he broke into a fit of coughs. “Oh god, come in.” You opened the door wide enough so that the poor boy could come in. “Take off your clothes.”

“Woah, woah… I don’t know what you think of me, missy,” he laughed, “but I’m trying to take you out on a date first.”

“That’s a first, huh?” You teased.

“Believe it or not, yeah.”

“I’m trying to dry them, dipshit.” You laughed as he shrugged off his coat.

-=+=-

He had the world fooled that he was a complete dick, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized, it stemmed from his insecurities. His attitude was a defense mechanism because of how awful his family could be.

But with you, he was different. He was kinder and softer. And the more he let you in, the more you fell in love with him.

The Ransom you fell in love with wasn’t a monster like how the news articles said he was.

The Ransom you married wasn’t a murderer.

And yet, he confessed to you that he was.

He told you that if it weren’t for dirty cops and what was left of his mother’s wealth, he’d be locked away for his crimes.

He told you the story. And, no, he didn’t tell you any lies. Ransom was many things, but he could never lie to you. Not you. He told you the complete, unfiltered truth with all the grimy details that he didn’t even tell the cops or his lawyers.

So, where did that leave you?

-=+=-

When you first told your family that you were separating from Ransom, they were happy for you. They told you he was no good. They said that you were blessed enough that you didn’t bear his children – that nothing but your last name tied you to him.

But that wasn’t true.

Your heart still belonged to him. Every beat called his name.

So, maybe that’s why you didn’t run. That’s why you took him into your arms after he told you the story of how he killed Fran and tried to frame Marta for his grandfather’s death. Maybe that’s why you kissed the crease between his brows and told him that you love him despite it all.

-=+=-

“Your father called,” Ransom sighed as you walked in the house, arms filled with groceries. He walked over, grabbing the bags from your hands and setting them on the table.

“What he say?” You didn’t need to ask. You knew. You knew your family’s opinions about the man you married and the family you were marrying into. You knew they’d support your separation more than they’d support your reunion.

“Called me a monster,” Ransom huffed. “Oh, but what’s new, huh?”

“You aren’t a monster, Rans,” you muttered, kissing his cheek as you began to unload the groceries.

“You don’t want a divorce?” The words stunned you. Divorce. It was so ugly. The mere thought made you cringe. “That’s what your father told me to tell you. File for divorce as fast as you can before you’re next.”

The house quickly became silent as a tension filled the home. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind until a few weeks ago when you were on the phone with your parents. They talked your ear off, telling you that staying with Ransom was the worst decision you ever made. ‘You’re taking a risk just by being in the same house!’ your mother cried. ‘You’re going to be his next kill, (Y/N)!’.

You never thought you were in any danger around Ransom. Despite what the world may think of him, he wasn’t a coldblooded monster. Not when it came to you.

But the possibility was still there. Your parents reminded you of that every time you spoke.

“No, Ransom.” You said. “I don’t want a divorce.”

Ransom’s face was expressionless as he stared at you. You sighed as you continued to put away the groceries. Your father had no right to tell your husband that. Your marriage – and your decision to stay in it – was completely your choice.

“You don’t think I’ll hurt you?” Ransom blurted. You stopped what you were doing. His tone was different. It was colder. “You don’t think you’re next?” You stayed silent because you knew he was about to explode. “Because… that’s what the news thinks. That’s what the police think, too, I’m sure. That’s obviously what your family thinks – I’m sure mine think the same. Everyone thinks that I’m some coldhearted murderer and that my naïve, sweet wife will meet the same fate as the housekeeper.” His voice got louder and louder as he got closer to you. He slammed the cupboard shut, making you flinch at the sound. “So, tell me! Is that what you think? Do you think you’re next, huh!” You stayed silent. “Answer me!”

“Ransom,” you whimpered. His eyes quickly became soft as he took a step back. In his rage, he had frightened you. He scared you. He scared his one ally.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered.

“It’s okay.” You nodded. “It’s alright.” You weren’t scared at all. You understood his frustration. Everyone was assuming one thing – Ransom was a monster – and that simply wasn’t true.

“No, it’s not.” He backed away. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into feeling sorry for him by any means. He was afraid of himself. He was afraid that on one bad day, he’d snap. He had taken one life away, what’s to stop him from killing the love of his life? Ransom wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have – “

“Ransom, it’s fine,” you shushed as you rushed over to him. You carefully wrapped your arms around your husband, stroking his back. “You won’t hurt me. It’s okay.”

“But what if one day I do?” He asked. Ransom sighed as he looked down at you. “Sometimes, I can’t help but feel angry. Like there’s something in me that’ll just snap, and I’ll lash out. And it’ll tear me apart if I lash out at you.”

“Have you said that to your therapist?” You asked him. The court had assigned a therapist that came by your home once a week. Ransom didn’t like him – or so he said he didn’t. Ransom huffed in response. “That’s something you should bring up in your next session, Rans.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust that you won’t because you aren’t a monster, Ransom. Despite what everyone might think, that’s not who you are.” He dug his face in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your arms. “And one day, everyone will see you how I see you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He muttered though it was muffled. He placed a delicate kiss at the base of your neck.

“I love you too, Ransom.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #knives out imagine #knives out #ransom is my kryptonite #i love him alot #fluff #angst #lots of angst #imagine

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bbhyeoliskooks · 4 years

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Hello!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ ¿Can you be my friend? You look so cute ❤️ and If it's not too much trouble, I can ask you for a txt reaction when you go on a date with your crush and get into a photo booth. What would you do? Would you give the reader a kiss there? I hope it is understood and thanks uwu

❁^*っ 𝑷𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 ❁^*っ

➶ A cute little date in the photo booth with TXT.

Ꮚʻัヽ♡´｡っʻᏊᏊʻัヽ♡´｡っʻᏊᏊʻัヽ♡

Genre: 1111 overflowing cups of fluff !

Warnings: None except a sickly amount of fluff !! Also, these are a bit long they could be scenarios :p

Song: drop pop candy (English Cover)

(Omg, you’re so cutee ~~ Of course I can be your friend, thank you so much !! I hope you enjoy this one, I apologize that it took a while to get to. I’ve never taken pictures at a photo booth before, so I hope this is how it works ._. Also, unedited !!)

Ꮚʻัヽ♡´｡っʻᏊᏊʻัヽ♡´｡っʻᏊᏊʻัヽ♡

ʻʻ´｡ Yeonjun ｡´ʻั

When you got ready in the afternoon for your date with Yeonjun, you could already feel those obnoxious butterflies in your stomach. He was your crush, and you were startled that he asked you out the other day. That boy was like Prince Charming, Mr. Perfect, and a gentleman all in one while you were just... there, gazing at how perfect and elegant he could be.

You tried not to arrive too late, so he wouldn’t have to wait awkwardly on the benches by himself.

Well, you ended up coming too early- maybe fifteen minutes before the date, so you decided to take some pictures to give to Yeonjun as a memory. Hopefully he would like them, so you wanted to make them as cute as possible. It wasn’t weird to want him to look at them before he went to sleep every night... right?

Opening the curtain without looking down at the occupied space containing two shoes, you were surprised to see that there was already a figure inside. Their tall body was extremely familiar, the spot light illuminating their highlighted blonde strands of hair. You recognized who it was immediately and exasperatedly gasped before throwing your arms around him from the excitement and butterflies that built up.

“Hey, you-” Yeonjun couldn’t help but choke from the giggles he was letting out as he turned around to see you. He hadn’t been there for a while, probably only a few minutes so he was surprised to see that you had budged into the photo booth without any shame.

You were a giggling mess too, he noticed as he gently ruffled the top of your head. In his head, he was thinking of how cute you were tightly hugging him by the waist, your arms squeezing around his torso.

His blinding gaze you followed and you looked away, the least you could do to calm your beating heart. “Stop, Jun! We need to take some cute pictures to remember by-” he tenderly took your cheek into his hand, interrupting you while your face burned with embarrassment. That was fast..

He pressed a short yet loving kiss against your forehead, ultimately leaving you wanting more. It was too sweet, who could blame you for wanting more of that high?! Your eyes were screwed shut, as you didn’t want him to see how red you were because of him although it was so obvious.

You heard a few snapshots of the camera, your jaw dropping open. There’s no way that they caught that gesture, it was too swift to catch! The moment seemed to pass by too fast, but you couldn’t tell from how nervous you were.

While you kept staring directly at the camera, Yeonjun grabbed the few photos that came out, adoring how fond you looked when he kissed you on the forehead. He reminded himself by a mental note to give you more kisses at the end of the day, perhaps on the lips next time.

ʻʻ´｡ Soobin ｡´ʻั

(Holy mother of cheese this gif 😭)

Ah, how much were you deep in love with Soobin? It had been years since you pined for him at least every night you went to sleep, but he didn’t know and probably still doesn’t. Everyone told you that you were extremely obvious with hearts in your eyes whenever you looked at him, so you assumed that he totally knew about it.

To be frank, you were kind of glad that he couldn’t tell and was completely oblivious whenever you made a move... Then again, everything would probably be easier if he knew. He could tell you right away that he didn’t like you in that way, and you would understand that you didn’t have any chance.

Being sick with your unrequited love, you decided to call Soobin to hang out at the mall. His presence was enough to soothe you, despite being the one you liked. He took away the pain for a little way, but left you wanting more- wanting more than being best friends.

It was a good thing that he responded to your call, agreeing to go since he was bored too.

You arrived at the mall, not too overdressed or too skimpy. Over the week, you had sort of felt conscious about your style since Soobin preferred something else other than what you have right now. Usually you didn’t care about what others thought of you, but every time you looked at a girl next to him, you felt ashamed that you looked like a hot mess. It just wasn’t fair.

Looking towards the entrance, your eyes landed on the boy you were patiently waiting for. You waited long enough to see his reaction. Would he be... impressed? You hoped so.

His innocent, doe eyes blown wide when he saw you and ironically, you felt the red embarrassment crawl up your cheeks. Maybe, you should’ve stuck to your usual outfit; he probably thinks you look stupid in this little get up.

You pretended that you didn’t see him and flung your head to look at the other side so he wouldn’t know that you saw him.

Soobin sprinted up to you, giving the accustomed embrace you always adore and crave. This time though, you didn’t hug him back as he pulled away too quickly for your liking.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice was full of worry that you wanted to choke from how happy you actually were. You responded with a plain shrug and a pout on your face to see what he would do.

He nodded his head slowly, and linked your arm with his. An idea popped into his head, leading you over to the photo booth next to your favorite clothes store. “Well, I know what will cheer you up! Let’s take a few pictures at the photo booth! You can keep them after, too.”

You both did those cute, regular poses for two of them like the peace fingers and a finger heart. Soobin could tell that you still weren’t having fun, so he swallowed his fears and leaned forward.

The last one were the highlight of your day, ending with your crush pressing his lips against your cheeks.

ʻʻ´｡ Beomgyu ｡´ʻั

Today was supposed to be a good day, so why were you stuck on the bench next to the photo booth? You were intently watching your date hang out with one of the girls in your classes, all giddy with a big smile on his face. He promised that he was going to be with you the whole day, but here we are!

However, if you were being frank with yourself, you couldn’t care less. He wasn’t your type, so you didn’t feel any ill feelings towards him. It really was your fault that this happened, but you didn’t want to look like a loser by yourself! Turns out, it was the exact opposite because you were still alone anyway.

Groaning quietly, you shut your eyes, unfortunately missing the chance that Beomgyu had taken a seat next to you. Deep down, you knew you still had feelings for him but he rejected you right off the bat once you told him. You wanted to move on, so it seemed like having a date with that person was the best option for a rebound. Silly you didn’t think of the rumors and scandals when you accepted his pity offer.

“So how’s it like being stuck with the playboy? You must feel like a fool.”

You jumped in your spot, feeling shock that Beomgyu had sat next to you after ignoring you for a while. So he was acting all nice and friendly now, huh? You turned your head away from him, scoffing loudly.

“Trust me, I know I am, okay? Now, stop bothering me like you care.”

There was a moment of silence, his expression turning content to shock in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t say anything while you concentrated on glaring at him. He couldn’t help it, but he burst into tiny fits of laughter, mocking your “intimidating” grimace shortly after. Honestly, he found it adorable but he couldn’t say it, in fear that there was a possibility you would get sad at yourself.

“Stop bothering you? I only will once you take a few pictures with me at the photo booth.”

He connected your hand with his, his eyebrows furrowing at your suitor who had left you to wallow in annoyance by yourself. He can’t really be looking that melancholy if he was the one that lost a precious person like you.

For the first three shots, you put on a genuine smile from being this close to Beomgyu. Yes he rejected you, but this gesture was similar to a warm embrace. At least you had him by your side even if he couldn’t see you in the same way

This little activity was supposed to be quick and fun, so you were stunned when Beomgyu tilted his head to kiss you, capturing the moment where his lips pecked your cheek.

ʻʻ´｡ Taehyun ｡´ʻั

Staying at home cooped up underneath your blankets was the one thing you desired the most at the moment. Everyone was having fun with their crushes while you were sulking alone on one of the wooden benches near the entrance.

There were so many entertaining things you could be doing in a huge amusement park, but instead you were hopelessly glancing at the cute couples twirling around. They seemed to have so much fun, feeding each other cotton candy and playing those crane games... You wanted that more than anything, you couldn’t even lie.

It was really easy to get up and walk alone to your house, but you were waiting for a specific someone the whole time.

The reason why you were staying was that you were looking forward to see Taehyun, your crush. You hadn’t seen him in a while since he was always too busy on the projects they assign at the end of the semesters, so you hoped that the two of you would make up the time you lost at this trip.

You guessed not, this time.

Heart clenching painfully at the realization that he broke his promise once again, you begrudgingly trudged over to the exit when someone gently tugged on your wrist.

You caught your breath when you saw Taehyun and just like that, you could forgive him because he remembered.

It was a bit too dramatic for anyone’s taste, but you instantly wrapped your hands around him, tightly pulling him against your frozen body. His strong and expensive cologne drifted into your nose, and you nuzzled the side of your head into his chest.

He hesitantly did the same, never getting used to the warm feeling you brought to him whenever you showed a gesture of affection. He didn’t say that he complained though! He appreciated whenever you did this, but you didn’t know that you made his heart pound. Hopefully you wouldn’t hear how alarmingly it was, or else that would give his... feelings away.

“Taehyun... you actually came.” You pretended to wipe a tear from underneath your eyes while he softly smiled towards you. “Of course, I did. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know.”

He pensively thought for a minute, holding your hand as the pace of your breath quickened. We need to take a few pictures of my pretty face so that you won’t miss me as much anymore.”

You couldn’t say any words while he dragged you over to the booth. Luckily there was no one there, so you were able to take a few pictures with him. You could tell that he had something planned up his sleeve judging by the smirk on his face. You waited hastily for the last few pictures, your heart racing yet again at what he was going to do.

When he gingerly kissed you as a pose for one of the pictures later that night, you knew that Taehyun shared the same feelings as you.

ʻʻ´｡ Kai ｡´ʻั

You were looking for something dumb to do after a fun day of going on all the rides at this one amusement park with Kai. The cotton candy had melted the variation hues of blue on both of your tongues, giving you time to unwind and relax from all of the scary rides. He was even sweet about it, feeding you with his hand while you happily accepted it.

“You really like the cotton candy?” He watched you throw the stick into the recycling bin before looking at the one in his hand.

Your face lit up when you glanced back at him, making you seem even cuter hidden in his arms. “You can’t tell? The cotton candy is really good here!”

Kai laughed his dolphin laugh and handed you his own treat, adoring the way you cooed and gently grabbed it. “Thank you so much, Hyuka! I owe you something for this.”

He shook his head, ruffling your head because boy, was he tall. “Don’t sweat it! It’s a bit too sweet for me, and you like cotton candy. It’s a win-win!”

It seemed that you stared at him for too long as he made eye contact with you, booping your nose while you mirrored his chuckle. You glanced somewhere else to find the photo booth near the exit.

You thought for a couple of seconds, pulling on his arm as a sign to stop walking. It’d be good to have some memories about what you did today! You didn’t want to rely on your memory because let’s face it, you forgot things that were extremely important.

It had been a while since you spent time with Kai due to his schedule, so you wanted this day to go perfectly. You decided to take a few good pictures with Kai as the last activity before you two would go separate ways.

You grasped his hand to place into yours, guiding him to follow you to the nearest photo booth. The curtains were golden and inviting, and you felt compelled to bring him inside.

There were a few decorations inside like the mustache stick (throwback to that 2013 phase) and a few heart clips you could put in your hair. Kai let you put a few in his curly hair while you giggled about how precious he looked. You didn’t tell him but with the way your eyes were sparkling, he could definitely tell.

It was an accident, but you kind of... dropped your cotton candy once the realization hit you that he had a crush on you too.

---

Posted: 9/6/20- 3:02pm

Tags:

#txt #txt fic #txt angst #txt fluff #txt reactions #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt requests #txt asks #txt oneshots #txt ot5 #txt headcanons #txt fanfic #txt ff #txt drabbles #*｡『 keah’s requests !』｡*

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 3 years

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TW: Ouija Board Use, Disturbing Topics, Ghost Mentions, Possession Mention, Talks about the Sixth Sense, Blood Mention, Suicide Mention

**Don’t read this if you’re easily scared**

There’s this thing that I just can’t get out of my head.

I figured that if I shared it maybe the nagging thought would leave me alone, so I’m writing this here to account it with that hope.

Last night I was watching a horror movie with my sister and her girlfriend and it just reminded me of someone that I knew back when I first started Uni.

But first full disclaimer here, I was never really close to this person, we had just met in my English class because we sat next to each other and had a couple of group work assignments together, but that was it. I’ll only talk about my experiences while I was with this girl, we’ll call her B for the sake of this recounting. And yes, this actually happened, but as you should with anything you read off of the internet, take it with a grain of salt because even I don’t know if I’m recounting everything perfectly, it happened a couple of years ago now and I’m trying to remember them as I write this.

I’m a very superstitious person, also. I totally buy into that bad luck stuff about ladders and mirrors, but my belief stems from I simply don’t want to try it if it ends up being true. That and from my Filipino descent I have many relatives who are superstitious also, not to mention the sixth sense runs in both sides of my family and is floating around somewhere in my generation so I don’t want to suddenly awaken that shit, no way (I’ll include a bit explaining that at the end of this post if you’re curious). Hell, I’m so superstitious that I won’t watch certain movies that deal with summoning entities just in case, or at least, I won’t watch them at home. But onto the story.

Anyway, the movie we were watching mentioned a Ouija board once or twice, which is what reminded me of my classmate, and it just sent chills down my spine and I’m still thinking about this even now because, my god, I am certain that she was possessed by something.

If you don’t know what a Ouija board it, let me crash course you. Essentially it is a tool to communicate with otherworldly creatures. Its a board with letters, numbers, and a yes/no option, and you hold on to the planchet (which is a huge triangle with a magnifying glass in the middle) and theoretically the spirit you contact will move it around to respond to your inquiries. However, this is not always the case, the board serves as a portal, and it is very rare that the entity you are trying to contact is actually the one interacting with you, and such it is considered a profane object. Once you bring it into your home alone you open your home to immense amounts of negative energy and it is now somewhat of an area of thin protection in which otherworldly entities can walk in and out of.

Basically, don’t fuck with them.

Now B is a huge occult fan, she loves the stuff, has read books on it and everything but, go figure, she’s a religious studies major and she wanted to specify in more occult practices, and with that you’d think she’d know never to dabble in those things, but I think her choice of major stemmed from a different kind of fascination in it. I think her thing was that she wanted to see if this occult stuff was real, I think she was a true skeptic and she just got a kick out of playing dangerous games and inviting dangerous creatures. I remember being appalled when she recounted her experience playing the dangerous game known as the [Midnight Game], which still gives me nightmares to this day. Either way, it would be an understatement for me to say that I wasn’t worried about her.

One day around week 8 of the quarter, meaning we were finishing up the quarter and starting to study for finals, while we were working together in class, she brought up to me and the other two group members (C and D for simplicity and anonymity) that she recently purchased a ouija board. And I immediately voiced my concern.

“You’ve already fucked with spirits before in the Midnight Game and [Dry Bones], are you trying to piss them off even more?” I was genuinely worried about her.

“Come on, Crys, they’re not real.” She insisted that towards me, but me and C made eye contact, both of us being Filipino and highly superstitious, we warned her again to give it back to where she got it from but she refused.

“What are you going to talk to anyway, B?” D asks her.

“Dunno, maybe I’ll talk to my granddad.”

“Or you could open your apartment to a poltergeist who will possess you and kill you slowly,” I said with a half joking tone, or at least that’s how I intended it to be.

“If you’re going to be so uptight about it then ignore me, Crys. It’s just a game,” she scoffs.

“Sure, yeah, I just think it’s smarter not to try anything. You’re already walking around with a target on your back because of the other games you’ve played, I’m just worried that something bad will happen to you this time. They come in threes, B,” I continued on. I didn’t know if it was fear for her or for me.

Needless to say she didn’t show up the next class. Me, C, and D just brushed this off as maybe she decided to skip class, which she had done many times before, and didn’t think much more of it. Of course I was still worried, I had a feeling that it had something to do with the board, but she looked really pissed when I brought it up to her so I didn’t want to overstep more than I already did.

But when she didn’t show up for the next week’s worth of classes, that’s when we really got concerned. We asked my professor about it just in case she just dropped the class and didn’t tell us, but no, she was still on the roster. So we decided to pay her a visit and make sure everything was alright.

Now we knew where she lived, it was an off campus apartment a couple of blocks away from school so it was an easy walk, and we had been there a handful of times already for group work. It was a relatively new apartment she had moved into before school started and, to our knowledge, she hadn’t tried anything there yet up until the board. But when I stood outside of her door, something just felt off. The air felt still, and something just wasn’t right. I knocked on the door and nothing. No shuffling, no movement, we thought she wasn’t home. But right when we turned to leave, the door opened.

Now B looked horrible. Her cheeks were sunken in and the bags under her eyes were more than just concerning.

“Hey, are you okay?” D asks her.

“I just have the flu,” B responds. Her voice was hoarse.

Now here is where I am conflicted. As you all know, I’m a premed student, and as you now know I am superstitious to a fault. My rational side says “ah, I get it now” but my superstitious one told me to call a priest. Like yes, the flu can do this to you, but it’s been a week.

Either way we’re backing away from the door. She opens it wider, as if to let us in, and when I tell you the apartment looked unrecognizable, I mean it. It looked nearly unlivable actually. I swear there was probably something alive hiding under the piles of pizza boxes and clothes. And this really concerned us because we knew B to be a very clean person, she always was throughout the quarter and would even reprimand C for being so messy himself, so the change was very jarring for us.

“You can come in if you want,” she says. “I haven’t been upholding my end of the group project.”

“No, it’s fine,” I declined for the group.

“I insist.”

“You have the flu, we could catch it.”

“You won’t, I know you’re all careful,” she says. Keep in mind, C and I are premed and D is accounting.

“We just wanted to check in on you,” D steps in now, seeing that I’m uncomfortable.

“Then why did you come all the way here and bother me?” She snapped. We were taken aback and she just shook her head. “Forget it, I’ll be fine by the presentation date. Just email me what I have to do.” Then she closed the door and was gone.

She never came back to class, and I learned later from another person in our class, who I’m assuming she was close with, that she dropped out of uni altogether. She never really told us either, so we had to rush to finish her part of the project, which was horrific, but that’s besides the point.

It’s just... this superstitious nature of mine typically gets in the way of a lot of things I choose to do. It’s always the first thing I put into consideration. And it’s a bit strange considering how... bad of a Catholic I am. Either way it’s just terrifying. Maybe I’m just more hyper aware of it because of how “close” I am to otherworldly things. I have cousins who’ve played games like [The Hosting Game] or [Lady Spades]. So I can sometimes feel things when they’re not right, then of course there’s the whole sixth sense running in both sides of my family thing so there’s that too. I don’t know, the whole thing just rubbed me wrong and still does to this day. I guess I’m more afraid of these negative energies reflecting back on me somehow, who knows?

I don’t know, maybe this was just me vastly overthinking things, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but something just didn’t sit right with me with that last exchange we had, who knows? The movie I watched last night just reminded me of her so much and I started getting worried again, I just hope she’s alright.

As for the promised bit about the sixth sense running in my family, here’s an abridged version from what I’ve learned:

On my mother’s side, it skips generations (therefore it is in my generation). The most notable one with this sense currently is my Uncle, who can see the auras of spirits (white for passive ones, red for aggressive ones, etc.) he’s helped other family members and extended members for many things involving these. There’s a certain term for him, actually, in the Philippines that is. He’s definitely not a shaman, no way, but the term escapes me for now. But it stemmed far back in our family’s lineage when we did have shamans and albularyos (witch doctors), if you looked up my mother’s maiden name in the Philippines you’ll even find an extensive history behind them (Obviously I won’t share that, but they were a very prominent Clan throughout the Philippines and still are in some islands). They have a history of communicating with enkantos (which are environmental spirits), the strongest one in our family to date being my great-great grandfather. I also have a cousin who sees spirits as they died, like if they happened to jump off of a tall building (and I’ll spare you the details because the aftermath is bloody) he will see them like that, it was so bad that he even went to the best therapists in the UK to treat it, but something like that isn’t exactly... treatable. So there’s that.

On my father’s side it’s a bit more muddled. We don’t understand the pattern it’s in, we just know that some people have it and most don’t. And if anything, it’s more of a curse. In every generation there has been someone who’s literally gotten possessed (one of my aunt’s did in the Philippines, she got possessed by a duwende I think? I’ll have to ask again). Haven’t had a possession yet in my generation (and no that’s not an invitation), but we’ve had hauntings many a time that my previously mentioned uncle helped us out with. There’s also a spirit who appears to every male who carries the name, and apparently when she is seen said male should not travel anywhere, some cases being my grandfather’s usual transit bus which drove off a cliff, my dad’s brother’s motorcycle combusting, etc. Whatever is going on in my dad’s side likely got passed down to me so I’m being extra careful.

TL;DR: I’m very superstitious because of the shit that has happened on both sides of my family and that probably fed into my fear for B.

Anyway, if you guys want scary stories, trust me, I’ve got scary stories.

#crys talks #personal

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creepyalienghost · 4 years

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Can I have a short fic for the pairing Henry x Joey, please? One where Joey takes Henry on a date to a haunted house?

I had fun writing this one. Thank you for the request!

———

The two meet in a coffee shop on there college campus. Henry went there to work on some history assignments that were do this week. He’d found this place was one of the best places to go for peace and quiet, besides the liberal. And it was later the usually for Henry to do his work. The liberal was closed by now so there he went. Joey goes to the coffee shop to get warm up after an investigation if it was cold out. Which it was that night. He would read a book he was on which at that time was a book oh true other worldly stories.

He was on a story about a girl that could talk to the dead, when he looked up and saw this guy his age paying for his coffee He was good looking in a nerdy way. But he was also a nerd to. Joey closed the book and got up, walking over to the guy who was waiting for his coffee.

He leans on the wall next to the guy. “Hey, you waiting for coffee?”

Henry looked at him. “Me?”

Joey nodded. “Yes. Sorry. You waiting?” Joey scratched the back of his own head, nervously.

Henry smiled. “No worries man. Yea I’m waiting for my coffee. Are you?”

“Uh. I uh already drank mine.” Joey pointed to his table, failing miserably to ack cool.

Henry looked at the guys table and sees a book and a mostly empty coffee cup. “Your into that kind of things? Ghost and monsters?” There was no judgment in Henry’s voice. It was all wander.

Joey smiled and nodded. Glad he didn’t bale out by now when Joey was being awkward and glad he wasn’t judging him. “Are you?

Henry shook his head no. “Nah. I never gotten into the paranormal. “He replied. The employee called his name and he grabbed his coffee and they both sat at the table Joey was a few minutes before. “Do you believe in it?”

Joey nodded without a doubt. “Oh yes. I don’t just believe in it. I seen it with my own eyes!” He said passionately. “Do you believe in it?”

Henry took a long moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not really sure. I mean there got to be other..things out there but I never really thought of these stuff, I guess.” Henry sipped his coffee.

“Would you..like to see...?” Joey asked. “There are haunted places around here. I could take you if you like?” Joey offered

”I don’t know..your not gonna murder be and make me become a ghost haunting a house right?” Henry Joked.

Joey chuckled at his joke. “Hmm not sure. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.”

The two both chuckled for a good minute then Joey turns to him. “ i’m serious. I’ll show you the other side if you want.”

“You know what, Sure. I’ll take you on that offer.” Henry nodded. And that’s how Henry Stain gotten a date at an abandoned haunted house next Saturday.

——

On the next following Saturday Henry meet Joey in game room of there dorms rooms. “Are you ready?” Joey ask him once he got there. “You know you can back down at anytime you need to, right?”

Henry nodded. “I got it. I’m ready.”

The two had to sneak around to get off campus. They hide behind walls, ran to the next spot and kept out of the lights so the security guards don’t see them. When they made it off campus they could relax now as they walked to there location.

Henry followed Joey down the side of the road then down a dirt path, leading deeper into the woods. it took a while but they came upon a run down house.

Joey slipped off his bag off his shoulder and unzipped it. “Couple things you should know first Henry. 1: because were you step. Lucky there’s no basement but you have to be careful going up the stairs and walking around. Could be holes or the floor could be ready to cave in.”

Henry nodded. “be careful walking, got it.”

Joey nodded. “2. Because of homeless people. Sometimes they can be aggressive. Be careful with animals to. and last be aware of spirts. If you feel bad of any kind. You tell me and we’re getting out of here.”

The last rule made Henry a lot more nervous but he nodded. “Right..”

Joey pulled out two mask and two flashlights. “Put this on. There’s mold in there.” He handed Henry a flashlight and a mask.

They both put on there mask and flicked on there lights. Joey grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder again then they headed inside.

Henry followed Joey inside the door. The first thing he noticed was the rat droppings on the floor. He gave the room a sweep with his light and notice the level of dust that covered everything.

They moved outta the kitchen to the living room. Everything was still there. Toys, books, furniture. “ it’s so..creepy...Everything’s here still.” Henry questioned.

“It is isn’t it?” Joey ask, looking over the old yellow books. ”A lot of places that were abandoned is like this. Just left how they’d been living here...almost like they just.. disappeared into thin air.”

Henry nodded in agreement. “What happen here that made them get up and leave without there stuff?” He turned to Joey.

Joey turned to him as well. “Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes!” Henry nodded.

“The last family that bought this house was the millers family. A nice lovely family. Mother, father, on oldest son and two younger daughters two years about from each other.” Joey informed Henry. “Right away there youngest started having nightmares each night. Terrible nightmares. She’d wake up the whole house with her screams. Once her mother awoke her she explained what she dreamed. The red man she called it.”

Henry stood there listening to joeys story of this place, feeling chills run down his back.

Joey continued. “At first her parents thought it was just nightmares. But as time went on so did the hell. She still had daily nightmares. But within a month the two oldest started acting strange. The middle child started sleep walking and her parents found her in the strangest of places. There son however started drawing this man in red in his drawings. There parents decide to call a Priest to come perform an exorcism on the house. He did but they quickly found out it didn’t work. After another two weeks the mother saw someone standing out of there window in the middle of the night and freaked out. Only odd thing was that there room was on the Second story. They got the kids right after the husband calmed his wife down and left the house. Never stepping in it again.

“Wow..” Henry replied. “Do you believe that really happen here?”

It wasn’t Joey that Answered Henry’s question it was the creek above them that made them both look at the Ceiling. Henry looked back down at Joey. “ Maybe that an animal...?”

Joey shook his head. “No way. That was to heavy for an animal. It was human sized sounded.”

“Well...maybe there be a homeless person walking around?..” Henry ask.

“Maybe. Wanna go check it out?” Joey ask.

Henry nodded and followed Joey to the stairs. “Remember rule one Henry. Be careful of where you step.” Joey reminded him.

Joey took the first step and as he got farther up the stairs he was making sure the floor was going to hold them before putting his full Weight on the step. Henry copied him, making sure the floor would hold him.

They got to the top of the stairs without an incident. The two shinning there flashes in a directions there choose and there eyes followed. It was a sitting area here before a short hallway off four rooms. Two on each side.

Joey slowly moved forward to the first sit of rooms, Henry following beside him now. Joey reached for the handle of the right door, and opened it. It was definitely the sons room. The bed unmanned, his science homework was still on his desk waiting to be finish, a hockey stick besides his bed. Shelves full of sport trophies

Covered in dust and forgotten. “ All those memories had to be left behind...” Henry mention sadly.

“Yea. It’s pretty sad..” Joey closed the door and moved on to the left door, opening that one. This room was obviously the middle child and she loved reading. There were books on her sleeves from Fantasy to poems. On her desk was what most been English homework. It was still open and on one of the pages it was highlighted lastly half way down the page. There was taps on pages before the one that was left. there was also posters of movie that were based on books. Like hunger games and Harry Potter.

Joey closes that door next and went to the other two doors a few feet away. Joey open the door to his right. It was only a dirty old bathroom. This time Henry opened the last door to the little girls room. Dolls. Old creepy dolls that stared at you, watching you. They both didn’t like them and felt them watching.

Before they could do anything they herd another creaking footstep but this it was right behind them! The two looked behind them and screamed. A man red burning skin was grinning down at them. Some would be certain it was a demon. But there minds weren’t thinking clearly. All they thought was run. And they did.

Both of them ran tours the stairs but nether of them never made it. The ground opened up below them and they fail and fail though the first floor into the secret basement. when they landed hard on ground both of joeys legs got smash with a heavy broad. With Henry gotten a pipe stuck into his chest.

“Ahh!! Fuck!” Joey cusses from the pain and shock. He looked over at his friend and immediately knew he didn’t have much time. “F-fuck. Henry! I’m s-so sorry!” Tears ran down his face.

Henry couldn’t even talk. Only blood sprayed out of his mouth and rushed out of his wound. On his last moment he saw the demon watching them from the hole above. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his head collapsed onto the ground. His hands slowly slid to the floor.

Joey knew he was gone and cried harder. “No!!” He yelled. “NO NO NOOOO!!!” He would be responsible for this if he got out and most likely go to prison. Why had this happened! He was only supposed to take him out on a date of fun exploring. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

But he realized something horrible. No one knew where they had gone. No one knew they’d come here and now he’s trapped down here in the basement. No one would no to come look here!

All night long and all day he called and called for help hoping someone would be walking by. He knew the demon was watching him but he hasn’t tried anything else. It took days before Joey died of dehydration. No one ever came by or looked around for them.

But once he finally died he could see Henry’s spirt. And not only his but the spirts of the miler family. He was wrong. They never escaped. They all died here and was trapped here forever. Just like him now.

#bendy and the ink machine #joey drew #henry stein #request #joey x henry #henry x joey

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namluve · 5 years

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chapter 2: the misunderstanding

paring: taehyung x reader

genre: collage AU, fuckboy!taehyung, student!reader

warnings: drinking, dirty talk, mentions of porn, grinding on the dancefloor

word count: 5.0k

summary: oh how a single night can change your entire life. drunken on wine you spill the tea on how none of your previous ex’s could satisfy your needs in bed. taehyung being your very experianced friend offers you a tempting offer you can’t seem to get of your mind. the question that remains is, will you let him?

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As Monday came around you had almost forgot about the weekend’s events. Keyword, almost. You and Lea walked together to campus, living only ten minutes away was quite the luxury. Many times had the two of you had friends staying over at your apartment because they did not want to wake up early for class. Those extra hours of sleep mattered and every single guest that had stayed over at yours knew that.

The second you saw Taehuyng you stopped in your tracks, Lea stopping as well and looking at you confused. Following your gaze, she sees you looking at Taehuyng as he talks with Jungkook. They are laughing, smiling, probably joking about something. Smiling she nudges you, getting your attention.

“Daydreaming about lover boy I see” She teases you and you give her a look that would kill if looks could.

“Stop it, he has probably forgotten about it now. Besides… I don’t think I’m his type”

“Not his type? You literally said the other day that he said, and I quote ‘I want to fuck you’” You put your hand over your roommate’s mouth.

“Shh! What if someone hears you!” Giggling and satisfied with teasing you Lea linked arms with you and the two of you began to walk to your class.

Waking up the next day on Tuesday morning you were reminded of the English class you were going to share with Taehyung today. Last night you had spent the evening finishing last week’s assignment, a short analysis on the book you felt depicted a love you wanted to experience or have. Pride and Prejudice was the book you had chosen, partly because you loved it and partly because it would be fairly easy to write an analysis on it. If you ever lost motivation or got stuck, you could easily google others depiction and analysis of the book to gain inspiration and depth to your assignment.

Satisfied with your essay you packed down your computer and the books you needed today to go to class. Walking in the early spring sun had you fild with new energy, the refreshing air, the animals and plants waking up and greeting you with colour and song. The ten-minute walk did not seem like enough today for you to enjoy the weather.

You sat down at your favourite spot in the classroom, almost front row and far to the left. Taking out your notebook you reviewed last weeks notes, wondering what todays lessons would be about. Soon enough you heard laughter fill the classroom and you knew the rest of the class was starting to drop in.

“Good morning class!” Looking up from your notebook you greeted your teacher Mrs. Johnson with a nod and smile. Looking over your notes once more you felt a presence beside you. Looking up to your side you saw Taehuyng standing with his backpack over his back, hands nervously gesturing towards the empty chair beside you.

“Mind if I sit here?” His voice was soft, much more tender then last time he spoke to you. You nodded and he smiled as he took his backpack of his back. Usually Taehyung would sit with Jungkook, so you began to wonder why he wanted to sit next to you. Was it because of your conversation last week at the party? Your body felt hotter as you recalled the memory.

“Mind if I ask why you wanted to sit next to me?” You ask him, curiosity getting the best of you. He let out a low chuckle, looking at you for a second before continuing to unpack his stuff from his bag.

“Well you are fairly friendly, and I noticed you sit alone mostly”

“Only fairly?” Dramatically pausing, acting offended at his words Taehuyng chuckled before you continued “And also, I sit alone because I want to concentrate, not because I don’t have any friends or anything” Smiling he rolled his eyes.

“I know that, it’s just that Jungkook is sick” You let out an ‘oh’ before Taehyung continued “I don’t have any other friends in the class and I did not want to sit alone” So that was the reason Taehyung sat down next to you, perhaps he had forgotten about the party, maybe he was even more drunk than you?

“So… you consider me a friend?” You smirked and Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Is talking to you a few times and texting you twice enough to be your friend?” As your question left your lips, he shook his head.

“Once” Tilting your head looking at him confused, waiting for an explanation you asked him ‘what?’

“You have only texted me once, asking if I wanted to come to Yoongi’s party” Shocked you started to try and cover you up somehow, feeling hot and embarrassed. The way he smiled at you, knowing what kind of power he had over you. “You didn’t reply to my last text” He finished before the Mrs. Johnson started the lesson, but you had a hard time focusing. He did remember. How could he just go back to the lesson and focus as if nothing? You felt struck, not knowing what to do with yourself as thoughts of Taehyung doing whatever he wanted to do to you came through.

The offer suddenly became very tempting. Was it your lack of sexual encounters lately? Was it the fact that his grey hoodie and black jeans suited him so good you just wanted to find out what was underneath? Was it his smug smile and messy hair that he had probably just quickly brushed through this morning? Was it the promise that he would give you anything you want? Anything you desire?

“Could you stop starring at me, it’s adorable but also very distracting” Taehyung suddenly spoke, and you muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before trying to look at the board again. You swore you could have seen his ears turning slightly redder before he spoke to you and you wondered if you had any effect on him all. Of course, you must have had, otherwise he would not have offered to sleep with you right?

Lea’s words at the party began to root deep in your thoughts, what if he had a crush on me or something? Shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts that you somehow could not seem to let go you listened to your teachers last words of the lesson.

“For the next two weeks I want you to swap books with the person sitting next to you. Compare your analysis and read some chapters of each other’s books that are mentioned in the analyses. Write with your own words the kind of love you think your partner want to have and why, get to know each other really well” Fuck, fuck, fuck was the only words at the back of your mind. Two fucking weeks with Taehyung and him reading one of the most personal things you had probably written to date. Panic washed over you as Mrs. Johnson dismissed the class.

“Do you have anything after this class?” Taehuyng suddenly spoke and I shook my head.

“Not really until after lunch, why you ask?”

“Do you wanna go over the assignment somewhere? I am very busy until the weekend with school and other stuff so it would be great if we could swap books and go over it” Nodding, you rise up from your seat and take your bag.

“Yeah sure, where do you want to meet?” He gets up as well and shrugs at your question.

“I don’t know, maybe my place? Or yours, which ever is closest”

“Mine it would be then, it’s only ten minutes away” He smiles at your suggestion and stretches his arm towards the classroom door.

“After you m’lady”

“Oh God” You laughed and slapped him on the arm. ‘I guess chivalry isn’t really dead’ you muttered on your way out not knowing if Taehyung would have heard you, but he did and you knew it when you heard him answer ‘I know right?’ as quiet as you mutter yours.

The way back to yours and Lea’s apartment was not as awkward as you thought it would be. The two of you shared stories and got to know each other for a bit. Taehyung was showing you a whole different side of him that you had not seen before. Well to be fair, you had never spent time with him like this before. You had been nervous about bringing him home to your apartment, knowing well what he said at the party.

He had almost blushed slightly when he caught you staring at him so maybe the bold Taehyung you knew from all the parties was drunk Taehyung. Sober Taehyung might not be as bold but very bubbly, a bit shy and funny. Laughing as he told you about the time his neighbours had knocked on his door in the middle of the night, telling him to keep down on the noises. It was dead quiet in his and Jungkook’s apartment and they were not having anyone over so annoyed he just said sorry and closed the door. It was not until the morning after that Jungkook had told him he accidently connected his phone to their Alexa while he was watching porn.

“I cannot believe it! How did he even manage to do that?” You laughed and Taehyung just shock his head.

“I have no idea and I didn’t really ask” Going up your apartment building you were happy your and Lea’s apartment was only on the second floor as the six stories apartment building did not have an elevator.

“Can you imagine the poor people that has to go all the way up?” Taehyung smiled and shook his head.

“I don’t even want to think the thought” He answers as you unlock the door to the apartment. Lea was having lessons today until at least two a clock, so that would be the earliest she would be home. Unless she decided to hang out with your friends afterwards that is. Waiting so you both get home at the same time and she can beg you to cook food for her. You were not the best chef, but Lea could not cook even if her life would have depended on it.

“So… this is us” You announce as the both of you take of your jackets and shoes. On the right to the hallway was the kitchen that was connected to the living room on the left. The bathroom was straight ahead of the little hallway and on either side of the bathroom was the bedrooms, yours on the right, closest to the kitchen and hers connected to the living room.

The two of you always loved that you had the bathroom in between your rooms. It provided a sound barrier for when any of the two of you were having guests over. The décor was simple, none of you really had to much money to spend on the apartment but you really enjoyed the black, grey and blue theme the two of you had.

“It looks really cosy” Taehuyng commented as he entered the apartment and looked around. You muttered a ‘thanks’ before picking up your computer from your bag and going over to the couch.

“We’re doing it in the living room?” He asks as he reaches for his computer from the bag. You nod and he pops down on the couch next to you.

“Shame, would have loved to see your bedroom” Your mouth slightly open, shocked at his comment you meet his gaze. His smile fades and he raised his hands in deafens.

“No, no I was not meaning it that way!” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s just that I heard from Mark that your room smelled like honey when he was there, you know?” You almost blushed at his words, the one night stand you and Mark shared a couple of months ago when you had just begun the school semester.

“Rumour has it that you are a real candle freak, but like in a good way, so I just wanted to see it for myself” He explained himself and you had listened carefully at every word, seeing how nervous he got around it.

“You would be pretty disappointed” You sighed, and he looked at you puzzled.

“Why is that?”

“I only have one candle left and it is peach scented, so it only smells faintly peachy in there right now” You answered, remembering how the money you usually spent on your candles went to a present for your mom’s birthday this month. Therefore, you only had one left that you cherished a lot, well until you could buy new ones and finally have a different scent in your room.

“I see” Taehuyng pulled up his laptop and started it. You did the same and while the both of you waited until you could log in Taehyung decided to confess something about his assignment.

“So… this is not really the love I want to experience” You nodded thinking he was somehow trying to protect his image or something by saying ‘he is not really looking for love’ or anything. You started getting nervous yourself, remembering that Taehyung would read your assignment that you had poured your heart in.

“I misjudged the assignment, I thought we were supposed to write about a love we had experienced. Not wanted to experience” You let out a quiet ‘oh’ and Taehyung continued.

“So… I chose The Great Gatsby, yes, it is a toxic relationship and no I will not take further questions on it. Mrs. Johnson said it wouldn’t be a problem, I freaked out and emailed her yesterday about it after I had heard Jungkook panicking about it and realized I had misjudged the assignment. Anyway, she said whoever would be working with me should take the elements I wrote about and find the opposites to them” So he had previously been in a relationship that was most likely toxic? Anyway, you did not want to ask more about it when he had been clear that he did not want to talk about it.

“So… you knew that who ever you sat next to in class you would be paired up with?” You asked out of curiosity. What if he knew? What would that even mean? He smiled at you warmly.

“Yes… So, I guess you’d want to know why I chose to sit next to you right?” Was Jungkook really sick you thought to yourself or was this all part of Taehyungs plan. What if he had a plan? I mean Lea did say… or was it Hoseok? Either way, it did not matter, if he was as determined as they said maybe this was all part of his plan? You nodded. You would at least give him a chance to explain himself.

“Well for me to tell you, you have to come to the party one of my friends is throwing. Seokjin, Yoongi knows him as well. Tall, broad shouldered guy with a laugh that could be heard miles away” Still looking just as confused when he mentioned Seokjin’s name Taehuyng realized you had had no idea who he was talking about.

“Anyway, the party is on Friday and I will give you a shot as well, just because I am a good friend” Smiling proudly at his proposition he waited for your reaction.

“So… You consider us friends huh? Is that why you decided to have me as your partner?” You ask, starting to form different theories in your head already. He shook his head.

“Not answering, guess you’ll just have to come to the party to find out”

That’s how you find yourself at the store with Lea on Thursday evening. The both of you were going to Seokjin’s party as you refused to go alone, and you need to know why Taehyung had chose you as his partner on the assignment. The rest of the time the two of you spent in your apartment before Taehyung left for his next lesson had been pleasant. The two of you switched books and started reading each other’s analyses. So here you were, helping Lea find her perfect dress for the party.

“I can’t believe you are going to another party so soon and we didn’t even have to convince you? Taehyung did all the hard work. I have to thank him someday” You laugh at Lea’s words. Rolling your eyes when she looks at you, stepping out in yet another dress.

“We went over this. I am only doing this out of pure curiosity”

“Yeah but he also offered you a drink even before the party so he must be pretty whipped for you. OH! What if, that is the reason he chose you as his partner for the assignment? Just so he could confess his undying love for you?” Chuckling at her words you shake your head.

“I don’t think that’s it. That dress though, that one I think is it though” Lea smiled down at the short dark blue dress and nodded in approval of your words.

“This one really is it, are you sure you are not getting anything?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes, I rarely use my party clothes so I should have something at home”

You had nothing at home. No outfit was good enough for your taste and you could not choose the one you had last time. It would be weird, or would it? Either way it was still in the washing bin so that was a no. Why did you suddenly care so much? You had to admit a small part of you wanted to impress Taehyung, you could not deny that. He was incredibly good looking, funny and somehow took an interest in you. Would he make a move on you tonight? God, you almost hoped. His words from the last party had never left your mind. Truth to be told you had masturbated to it and to the thought of Taehyung, but actually being with him in real life? That did scare you a little.

Ending up wearing a bright shirt with a black skirt you and Lea entered the house that Seokjin owned. His parents were very rich so you weren’t really surprised over the fact that he would have his own house. The party had already started two hours ago (you can blame Lea for being late) and the loud music from the living room could be heard from the street. Thankfully, Seokjin did not have that many neighbours and rarely got the police called on him, even though it had happened a couple of times. Now, all you had to do was stay focused. Find Taehyung and ask him why he chose you as his partner, talk with some people and leave to get a good night sleep.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink!” Lea took your hand and lead you through the crowds and into the kitchen. You had almost forgotten that she had been at Seokjin’s house a few times in the past, before the two of you were friends. In the kitchen there were a few people, mixing drinks and soon you and Lea did the same. A drink could not hurt, and you had to blend in after all, you thought.

A drink later became two along your quest to find Taehyung. Somewhere along the crowd you finally spotted him, a girl in front of him, grinding her ass in sync with the music on his crotch. Taehyungs hands on her hips, his eyes looking over her shoulder down at her cleavage. You could not help but stare at the sight. The way it looked like Taehyung was controlling her hips. His hungry look at her body. You felt hot, one of your hands reaching up to rub your neck, trying to smother any feelings and thoughts of Taehyung touching you like that. You wanted it, in that moment you really wanted him.

Staring for so long you did not notice Taehyung had been looking at you all along until you looked at his face and realized the two of you had locked eyes. A smirk placed on his lips, a proud glint in his eyes as he saw the way he was affecting you. He looked down at the girl’s neck for a second before looking up at you again. Was he going to kiss her neck right in front of you?

You did not have to wait long before you found your answer that was much better than what you could have anticipated. One of his hands left her hips and moved to her hair. Not breaking eye contact with you he pulled her by the hair to the side so he would have better access to her neck. A whimper left the girl lips and he took his time seeing your reaction before he started kissing her neck, sucking, licking, doing anything to mark her roughly.

You let out a whimper closing your eyes for a second and the next time you opened them Taehyung was on his way over to you. The girl nowhere to be found. Inhaling a sharp breath as Taehyung was now right in front of you. His head low, almost touching yours. You looked at his lips as he bit them before looking into his eyes. He smiled at you before he brought his mouth to your ear.

“Do you have any idea how good your legs look in that skirt?” He spoke and you took one of your hands and brought it up to his shoulders, carefully lightly tracing his collarbones underneath the black shirt the was wearing.

“Oh, how I would love to just throw them over my shoulders. Getting really deep in your tight pussy” You were a bit tipsy from the alcohol yes, but right now you were drunk on Taehyung. The way he spoke, touched, smelled and how he looked at you with such hunger in his eyes. Your other hand started wandering over Taehyungs chest, the feeling of his defined chest almost bending your knees, how heavenly he must look underneath his clothes.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” At his question you looked up at him and meet his eyes. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face. Looking down at his lips you answered him ‘yes’ and he smiled. One of his hands tucked away a bit of your hair as you looked down on his chest where you were still roaming your hands and getting used to the feeling of him, could you even get used to this feeling? As he tucked away your hair, he looked at your focused eyes, the way you bit your lip, he could have his way with you tonight if he wanted.

“As much as I would have loved to fuck your brains out tonight” He spoke before taking hold of your wrists with his hands, removing them from his body leaving a confused look on your face as you looked up at him again.

“You would have to be sober to be able to take all of it” You wanted to tell him that you only have had a glass or two, that you were barely tipsy. How much you wanted him, but you were at lose for words. His forehead touched yours, lips so close that if you barely went up on your toes you would kiss him, and it was tempting. Something at the back of your mind told you not to, it was not that you did not want to but right now, in this moment, you were at Taehyungs mercy. He called the shots.

“Besides I have a lady upstairs waiting for me that I need to attend to” Suddenly you were faced with reality, this was a game for Taehyung, as was inviting you to the party and choosing you as his partner on the assignment. He wanted your attention and you had just given it to him, without any hesitation.

“This has to wait until another time” He spoke before letting go of your wrists and leaving you, presumably to go and fuck the girl he was grinding on earlier. How stupid you felt when you were felt on alone the dancefloor, angry, confused and even a bit sad. He had chosen her over you, without any hesitation. You took up your phone texting Lea that you were heading home, and she was free to stay for as long as she wanted, you had gotten your answer from Taehuyng, you also wrote. It was all a game to him, and it could not have been clearer than right now.

Once you got home you turned off your phone, not wanting anybody to disturb the sleep you felt was the only thing that could help you remove the feelings you were feeling.

The weekend passed quickly, Taehuyng had texted you a couple of times but you decided not to reply. You knew you had to sooner or later, since you had the assignment together but decided to draw it out for as long as you could. Monday came and you dragged your feet across the halls, you may or may not have been watching tv-series way past when you should have, considering having early lessons the next day.

Earphones in your ears listening to music, trying to draw out any other noises that may give you a headache. That is why you did not notice him, standing against his locker as you past by him. Taehyung quickly noticed you and grabbed your arm, pulling you so you were standing in front of him. Shocked, you quickly pulled out your earphones seeing his slightly annoyed face right in front of you.

“I called you out like three times” He spoke, and you looked nervously around to see if anyone had seen Taehuyng grabbing you towards him. You felt him left go of you and you looked him in the eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you” Holding up your earphones for him to see and he sighed.

“I also texted you several times and you did not reply, did I do something wrong ____?” His eyes were filled with concern and you almost felt bad for ignoring him, almost, if it was not for the fact that he was playing games with you.

“Like…. Did I go to far at the party? Did I make you uncomfortable?” You shook your head. Why was he so concerned with you all of a sudden? It was almost like there was two sides of him, the one where the two of you are alone, and the one at the parties.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I felt like I got to know the answer to why you chose me as your partner” Being honest was always the best way to go, at least that is what you learned with your first boyfriend when it came to your mutual breakup.

“Which is?” He asked and you bit your lip, unsure how to phrase your words.

“Well… It’s all a game to you, isn’t it?” You began and he tilted his head, looking almost confused at you and you continued.

“I’m just another conquest, see how long it takes for you to get me into your bed. That’s why you invited me to the party isn’t it? To get my attention. To see how much, you had affected me right?”

“That must be the most fucked up thing I have ever heard” He scoffed, and you did not know what to say, your mouth slightly opened, eyes wide, not knowing how to react to what he just said.

“Is that really what you think of me?” There was a silence between the two of you and you started feeling ashamed of yourself, if it was not like that at all, that was indeed a pretty fucked up thing to say and think about someone. You never really let Taehyung give his side of the story after all, since you ignored him.

“I waited over an hour for you, looking everywhere for you at the party. I thought you didn’t show up at all” So he actually invited you to hang out with you, you were just stupidly late and made him think you stood him up.

“So, when Jess started talking with me, was I supposed to ignore her when you didn’t show up?” Biting your lip, you let out a ‘no’ almost as quiet as a whisper. You could barely look him in the eyes at this point, feeling ashamed of yourself.

“God, I chose you for the assignment because I did not really know anyone from that class and from what I’ve heard you were supposed to be kind, understanding and compassionate. Guess I was wrong on that one?” Before you could say anything, he had already stormed off, not looking back once at you. Should you follow him? What would you even say to him? You watch as he disappears around the corner, walking probably to one of his classes and you wonder if you could ever make it up to him. You had to, you had the assignment together and if it was not awkward and uncomfortable before, it sure would be now. You cursed at yourself for always believing the worst-case scenario as usual. How were you supposed to fix this?

#bts smut #thekimlinenet #taehyung smut #my writing #confessions over wine

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perspective-series · 4 years

Text

Pet Perspective (14/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Humans being demeaning how dare

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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“Alright, we’ve got your blankets, pillows, additional pillows-”

“I still do not see why those would be necessary.” Logan interrupted.

“-your desk is set up, your closet is full… I think we’ve finally moved you in, Specs!” Roman threw an encouraging arm around Logan’s shoulders.

Patton came up to the door and, remembering their promise, knocked first, listening to see if he could hear them.

“Come in.” Logan called, loudly enough he hoped he was heard.

Patton grinned when he was able to hear Logan speak and he opened the door, coming in. “Hey guys! Just wanted to check in.” He noticed that Logan’s room seemed full with his things. “Looks like you’re all settled?”

“Just about, yes.” Logan stepped forwards. “Is there something you needed?”

“Oh, no. Just checking in.” Patton laughed. He looked around the room and winced. “Virgil and I will clean this room out soon. Probably tomorrow. I know you aren’t using it but it’ll be nice not to have to look out at a mess.”

“So long as vermin aren’t attracted, the mess is fine.” Roman assured him. “Preferred, actually.”

“Preferred?” Logan gave him a confused glance.

“...more hiding spots.” Roman admitted, a bit quietly.

Patton frowned. “O-Oh...I mean, I suppose we could leave it. But, uh, why would you need hiding spots?”

Roman rubbed at his sleeve, clearly feeling odd about speaking to a human on the matter.

“I imagine it feels instinctual.” Logan reasoned, noting that he might feel more comfortable with that arrangement as well. “Similar to having an escape readily available should the enclosure not be easily accessible.”

Patton nodded, despite not really understanding. “Okay...I mean, if that’s what you really want, we’ll leave it how it is.” He said with a small smile.

“It could be tidier though.” Logan shifted a bit, looking at the mess. “Perhaps we could construct more of a planned structure?”

Roman hummed noncommittally.

“Oh, yeah! We can do that.” Patton grinned. “It’s a bit early now but we can do it later on? You two can delegate and Virgil and I can do all the heavy lifting.” He chuckled.

“I think that sounds acceptable.” Logan agreed, although he was a bit hesitant at Roman’s lack of agreement.

Roman cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject. “So, what does the rest of the day hold for us, then?”

“Oh! Right, well breakfast, of course and Logan, there actually was something I wanted to ask you.” Patton remembered suddenly.

Logan blinked, surprised by this. “Oh?”

“Yeah! See, I have to go back to school today and I was wondering...did you want to come with me?” Patton asked. He had planned on bringing Logan with him to school for a while now. To have a little friend with him while he was there. But only if Logan wanted to, of course.

“Accompany you… to school?” Logan seemed almost dazed by the query.

“Yeah! It could be fun and hey, you’ll get to learn some cool things too.” Patton said, trying to sweeten the deal for Logan.

“I- “ Logan gaped like a fish. “I would- I, yes I would like that very much.”

Roman chuckled at how un-subtly the nerd had reacted.

Patton blinked, processing Logan’s answer before grinning wide. “Yay! This is going to be so much fun!” He offered his hands to the two borrowers. “Let’s head down for breakfast and then Logan and I can get ready for school.”

“Oh, what about Roman?” Logan glanced to his fellow borrower as they both climbed on, a sort of sympathetic worry on his features.

“I doubt school would be my cup of tea.” Roman waved off his concerns. “I’ll be fine on my own today.”

Patton hummed and set them down on the table. He went to go make a quick breakfast and that’s when Virgil came down, eyes going to the two borrowers immediately. “Oh, uh, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Logan echoed.

Roman gave him a wave.

Virgil took a seat, knowing Patton was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. “How was your first night as roommates?”

“Surprisingly successful.” Roman informed him. “After staying up most of the night we agreed on a couple ways to ‘co-habitate’, as Logan keeps calling it.”

“It’s the proper term for borrowers living together.” Logan huffed, feeling as though Roman might be poking fun at him.

Virgil chuckled. “Well, I’m glad things are working out.” It was then that Patton came out with plates of eggs and toast, setting each one in front of everyone.

“Eat up, everyone! You especially, Logan. We got a big day after all.” Patton said, before digging in.

Virgil blinked. “Big day?”

“I am accompanying him today.” Logan explained, a smile forming as he dug into his own food with an excited sort of relish.

Virgil blinked. “Wait, like, to school.” He looked at Patton, expression concerned. “Uh, Pat, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?” Patton asked, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just...he could get hurt?” Virgil just felt anxious about either of them leaving the house at all.

“It’s school.” Roman reminded him with a roll of his eyes, having been once or twice himself. “It’s not exactly dangerous.”

“Is that correct?” Logan looked to the humans for confirmation, hoping he did not have reason to worry.

“Logan, you have nothing to be worried about. Virgil, he’ll be fine.” Patton reassured both of them. Virgil sighed.

“Alright...just be careful.” He looked down at Roman. “Uh...you don’t want to go...right?”

“I’m certain I can entertain myself with the free reign of a human house.” Roman teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“...What are you planning?” Virgil asked, eyes narrowing. He did not like the look in Roman’s eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Roman feigned innocence, taking a large bite of toast.

Virgil grumbled but didn’t say anything more, taking a bite of his food instead.

Patton looked in Logan’s direction. “I think it’ll be fun.” Patton said with a smile.

“It should certainly be educational.” Logan agreed.

“Just...again, be careful.” Virgil said with a sigh. He knew borrowers were taken out everyday but that didn’t mean something wouldn’t happen.

“We will. Stop worrying you silly goose, everything will be okay.” Patton said, smiling softly at Virgil. He knew how much Virgil worried and knew how to reassure him. “And actually, we better get going soon or I’ll be late. Ready to go, Logan?” Patton asked, already holding his hand out for him.

“Indeed.” Logan finished the last bite of his food, climbing on.

“Have fun, you two!” Roman gave them a wave.

“We will!” Patton called back, placing Logan in his pocket and heading out to his car. He got in and double checked the radio was off before turning his car on.

He pulled out of the driveway and headed towards his school. “So, my first class is history, which should be fun. And then I have English.” Patton started to list off.

“How does a class period usually operate?” Logan asked, peeking out of the pocket to look around at the scenery as they drove.

Patton thought for a moment, never having had to explain it before. “Well, the classes are usually an hour and a half. The students sit at desks or tables as the professor teaches at the front of the room. Students take notes and then there are assignments to do sometimes as well.” Patton explained as he turned into the building.

“What sort of assignments?” Logan leaned forwards. “Would it be possible for me to participate?”

“Well…” Patton bit his lip. “Can you read? Or write?” Patton felt silly asking but he also knew it was possible.

Logan didn’t let the question wilt his eager attitude too completely. “Yes, I am capable of both those activities.”

“Oh! That’s good. Then I don’t see why not. It might be a bit before you’re caught up enough to actually help but I can always walk you through them too.” Patton said, parking and grabbing his bag before heading out of the car.

“That would be wonderful.” Logan could scarcely remember to regulate his breathing, finding himself almost vibrating with nerves and excitement alike.

Patton grinned and then walked to his class, sitting more in the back before taking out all his stuff. He then reached in and scooped Logan up and out, setting him down on the desk. “So, what do you think?” Patton asked, motioning towards the classroom. He was a bit early, so students were still coming in and the teacher was focused on something at her desk.

“You spend all of your time here?” Logan asked incredulously, looking around. It was massive, with several desks laid out all around. He had never seen a space for so many humans, and the prospect of every seat being filled was daunting.

“Well, not all my time. And not all in this room either. We have to switch rooms for each class.” Patton explained. As the students finished gathering in, the teacher looked at the clock before standing up.

“Greeting class, first off I’ll be handing back your papers from last week’s assignment.” She said, grabbing a stack off her desk and going through each student. She paused at Patton’s desk, eyeing the borrower on it. “Patton, pets aren’t allowed in school.”

Patton’s face dropped. “What? But he isn’t bothering anyone!”

Logan immediately felt a familiar rock forming in his stomach.

“Those are the rules, Mr. Hart.” The teacher said and Patton bit his lip.

“Please let him stay. I promise he won’t be any trouble!” Patton pleaded. The teacher looked at him for a long moment, before sighing.

“Alright...but he stays in your pocket. Understood?” The teacher said and Patton knew that he was already getting away with a lot.

“Yes, ma’am.” The teacher nodded and continued to pass out the papers. Patton sighed and looked down at Logan apologetically.

“It’s...fine.” Logan let his face fall back into that familiar stoic expression that kept him safe. Because it was fine, it had to be fine, because this was just how things were and nothing was ever going to change because despite Patton viewing him differently Logan would always be nothing in the eyes of the world and he was a fool for ever forgetting that.

Patton sighed at the look on Logan’s face but couldn’t do anything about it. He offered his hand to Logan. “I’ll make up for this later, I promise.” Patton whispered.

Logan just shook his head, sadly climbing on. He didn’t need Patton’s pity. It was his own fault for agreeing to come and getting his hopes up.

Patton placed Logan back in his pocket.

He didn’t focus all too well for the next hour and a half. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Logan. Sure, maybe he was still able to hear but he shouldn’t be forced away in a pocket. It was unfair.

As class was dismissed, Patton decided to ditch his next class. It was something he never did but with the knowledge that Logan would have to stay in his pocket for so long, he decided it would be fine for today. So, instead of his next class, he found himself back in his car, taking Logan out. “I’m...sorry that happened.”

“No, I- it’s alright.” Logan told him, having calmed slightly from the time he spent in confinement. “I was still able to listen to the lecture. I learned a suitable amount. It’s more than I would have gained at home, or ever expected to learn. I should be grateful.”

“But it’s so unfair. You shouldn’t have had to be confined or trapped.” Patton argued. “You should have been able to stay out…”

“It is a school meant for human education.” Logan looked a bit bitter. “That does not include the education of borrowers.” Indeed, borrower education was limited solely to obedience training, as far as Logan was aware.

“But...borrowers don’t get any form of education…” Patton paused. “You guys don’t even get the choice.” Being a borrower did not sound like...fun.

“I was trained to be literate, and to obey commands.” Logan tensed in recollection. “Higher education than that is unnecessary when your entire existence is meant to be a companion to someone much larger who will care for you the rest of your life.”

Patton was quiet. “I...I feel like apologizing again. Not just for what just happened but for...everything. Now that I’ve realized I...I don’t understand how the world can think of you guys as...pets.” Patton said sadly. He felt horrible for being one of the billions of people who had thoughts like that.

“The sentiment is appreciated.” Logan gave a weary sigh. “But unfortunately, I understand all too well. It is easy to take advantage of us, we’re an intriguing anomaly, and creatures of a petite stature are often seen as cute and vulnerable.”

“I know...it wasn’t too long ago I thought the same.” Patton admitted sadly. He bit his lip. “I want to make it up to you. So...name something! What have you always wanted to do, we’ll go do it!”

Logan wasn’t sure how to respond, considering they had just done the activity Logan had wanted most, and it had ended quite poorly. “What would you propose?”

Patton thought for a long moment before a great idea suddenly came to him. He grinned. “Well, if they won’t let you learn in a school, we’ll have to settle for the next best thing. Studying ourselves at the library!”

Logan perked up at this suggestion. “But what about your English class?”

“I can afford to miss it.” Patton said with a shrug. “This is more important at the moment.” He moved Logan towards his pocket but paused. “Are you okay with going back in the pocket for a bit longer?” He asked, knowing Logan had already spent a lot of time in there.

“Yes, that is acceptable.” Logan agreed, hoping it wouldn’t be for long. “Although I do believe your priorities are incorrect.”

“I think my priorities are great.” Patton said back before putting Logan in his pocket and starting towards the library. “What subject are you interested in learning more about?” Patton asked.

“I am uncertain.” Logan tried to ponder how he could possibly choose only one subject. “I suppose… science has always interested me.”

“Science…” Patton hummed in thought, smiling. “Yeah, we can do that!” It was a broad term but that just meant more options to choose from.

He pulled into the parking lot and went inside, taking Logan out as soon as he was out of the car. “Here’s the library.” Patton showed him as they walked towards the science section.

Logan looked around, craning his neck back to try and take in the space around him. If he had been impressed with the classroom, it was nothing compared to this magnificent room. There were shelves larger than Patton was tall, lined with countless books, each more than Logan had ever expected access to in a lifetime.

“Am I allowed to be here?” Logan asked uncertainly, nervous to get his hopes up.

Patton frowned, looking around. A passing librarian gave them both a smile and nod before going on her way. Patton grinned. “It looks like it!”

Logan blinked in disbelief when the other human seemed to give them approval. It certainly felt too good to be true.

Patton grinned and ran the science section, looking over the books. “Hmm...maybe this one?” He took it out, looking it over. It looked to be a biology book, which would be perfect for beginning. He chose a table in the back and set Logan down, opening the book up to the first page. “I think biology would be a good place to start.”

“What is biology?” Logan asked, coming over to inspect the contents.

“That, is what we are about to learn.” Patton gave him a wink and giggled. “Did you want to read it? Or should I?”

“What- aloud?” Logan looked a bit incredulous at the suggestion.

“Yeah! Don’t worry about disturbing anyone, it’s why I picked a table in the back.” He explained.

“I think I would prefer to read, but I am a bit out of practice.” Logan shifted, looking a bit embarrassed now.

“It’s okay! Just do your best. I’m not going to make fun of you or anything.” Patton reassured with a smile.

“In that case, a higher vantage point may be helpful.” Logan decided, trying in vain to get a good look at the book from his position on the table.

“Oh...right.” Patton chuckled. “Um...does shoulder work?” He asked, offering his hand already.

“That should be perfect, and if you follow along you should know when to flip the page.” Logan decided, climbing on.

Patton nodded and lifted Logan up to his shoulder. “Can do!”

Logan settled in, looking down at the textbook. He cleared his throat, and carefully began to read.

#pet perspective #perspective series #borrower!logan #borrower!roman #part 14 #human!virgil #human!patton

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morningfears · 5 years

Text

Cocoon

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: Soft, fluffy, stoned sex with Calum. That’s it. (Drug mentions, obviously, and unprotected sex.)

Word Count: 3.1k

The playlist that Calum made with moments like this in mind is fading into background noise as your thoughts drift and your eyes focus on the tendrils of smoke pouring past his lips. You can’t remember what assignment you’d been stressed about only a few hours earlier as you watch the way his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and you can’t say that you mind.

Nights like this, stretched out on Calum’s couch with a cloud of smoke lingering above you and his hands exploring your skin, are the ones that you look forward to the most. Before you began dating Calum, you never would have guessed you’d end up here. Yes, you had a tattoo and a nose ring before you met Calum. Yes, you drank occasionally before you met Calum. But you were always the “mom” friend.

You held a friend’s hair while she threw up or acted as the D.D. during nights out. You planned out your life to the letter and refused to step foot anywhere that didn’t look pristine. You cared more about getting good grades and being as close to perfect as possible than living a fulfilling life and you’re not sure how you managed to make it through without losing your fucking mind.

After Calum, however, things changed. It isn’t as if he ever pressured you, that’s the last thing Calum would do, but he did help you grow more comfortable in your own skin and with letting go of the control that you always desperately wanted. He helped you grow up and become the person that you’d always wanted to be but could never find the courage to become.

He helped you truly live.

After Calum, you found yourself enjoying nights out instead of spending them riddled with anxiety. You found yourself letting loose and dancing. You found yourself adding more and more ink to your skin in just the way you’d always dreamt. You found yourself with piercings that you’d never even considered before. You found yourself settling into your skin and feeling more comfortable than ever before.

You found yourself thanking your lucky stars that Calum Hood entered your life.

One of the only things that made you wary in the beginning of your relationship, however, was the drugs. You were sort of alright with him smoking weed. You never wanted to make a big deal out of it, especially because it seemed to be something he truly enjoyed. However, you weren’t interested in the slightest but Calum was fine with that. If he wanted to smoke, he’d disappear for a bit and return more relaxed and giggly than when you’d last seen him. He never forced you to participate, rarely asked, and it wasn’t until somewhat recently that your ideas about Calum’s habit changed.

“I fucking hate group work,” you sigh as you settle onto Calum’s couch and rest your legs over his lap, “I’m going to end up doing this whole project alone.” Calum hums his acknowledgement as he traces the small tattoo at your ankle, his fingers brushing the ink almost absentmindedly, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he lets you continue with, “And it’s not a project I can do alone! I need their help. I don’t know why I picked a major that involves so much group work. Maybe I should switch to English or history or something.”

“You love your major,” Calum reminds you as he turns his head to face you.

“I know,” you huff as you tilt your head back against the arm of the couch, “I just, I don’t know. I’m annoyed and tired. I’m saying things I don’t mean.”

Calum’s eyes take in the state of your hair, disheveled from your fingers raking through it, and the deep frown on your face before he lingers on the dark circles beneath your eyes. With a sigh, he nudges your legs off of his lap and reaches out for you, his calloused fingers warm against your skin. He gently tugs until you’re situated on his lap before he moves one hand to cup your cheek, his palm gentle against your skin, and allows the other to drop to the top of your thigh.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observes, his lips curving into a frown. “Is it just the group project or is it something else?”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you sigh as you lean in and rest your forehead against his. “You were good before I got here. I’ll just bring you down.”

“My girl’s upset,” Calum scoffs, “we’re not going to not talk about. You won’t bring me down, babe, I promise. My high’s wearing off, anyway, and I just want to help.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you sigh. “It’s partially the project,” you shrug as you focus on the drawstring of his sweatpants, “but it’s also finals and looking for grad schools and work and, I don’t know. There’s just a lot going on, you know?” When Calum nods encouragingly, you continue. “I just can’t seem to get any sleep. I’m worried about this or that or all of the above and my brain just won’t chill. I don’t want to take any sleeping pills but if I don’t start getting some sleep, I’m going to have to.”

Calum is quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping at your thigh as he considers his next words, before he asks, “Have you thought about smoking? I know you’re not a huge fan but it might calm you down enough to get you to sleep.”

Calum is surprised when you nod your head but says nothing as he waits for you to explain. “I have,” you sigh as you shift to look at his face, “I’ve actually done some research on using cannabis for sleep.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at your comment and shakes his head at you. “Of course you have, you nerd,” he laughs as he leans back to get a better look at you. “What did you find?”

“If you’re using cannabis as a sleep aid, it’s better if you’re not a habitual user. So, it probably wouldn’t work very well for you but if I used it every now and again, it might work for me.”

Calum nods, his eyes bright as he takes in your words. “So, it’d help you get to sleep but would it make you feel gross? I know that’s why you don’t like sleeping pills.”

“I don’t think so,” you shrug as you shift in his embrace, “Research is so limited because of our drug policy here in the States, which is a bummer, but, honestly, if it’s not a lot of weed and it’s in moderation, I don’t think it’ll be so bad. And, I mean, I’m getting kind of desperate. I’m willing to try anything.”

Calum raises an eyebrow at your words but thinks better of cracking a lame joke. He knows that you’re bordering on sleep deprived, the dark circles beneath your eyes more prominent than he’s seen, so he keeps his wisecrack to himself and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Want me to get it ready for you or do you want to think about it some more?”

Calum’s face is soft, his eyes displaying his concern for you as he takes in your exhausted form. He’s never pushed, never even attempted to nudge you into smoking weed, and his desire to make you comfortable has never gone unnoticed. You truly appreciate it, you truly appreciate him, and you trust him to take care of you. So, without much of a second thought, you ask, “Can you do it without me moving?”

Calum laughs, a soft sound breaking through the noise of The Strokes, and you can feel it in your chest. “Yeah, babe,” he nods as he moves to sit up and tries his best not to jostle you too much, “just give me a second.”

It only takes a moment for Calum’s hands to find the pipe he’d placed on the coffee table as he grabs it, a lighter, and the little bag of weed, you lazily press your lips to his jaw. You can feel the goosebumps that erupt on his arms, can hear the shuddering breath he releases, and you grin when he tightens his hold on your waist.

“You sure you want to smoke?” he asks as he leans back, his eyes darkened with lust and his cheeks tinting pink, “I know another way to tire you out.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Calum’s voice pulls you from your thoughts and it takes a moment for you to realize that you’ve been staring at him for what must’ve been an abnormal amount of time. After taking a second to gather your thoughts, you answer, “The first time I smoked with you.”

He smiles at the memory and nudges your legs from his lap before he tugs you into him in much the same manner as he had that day. Once you’re settled on his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs, he brings his hands to your thighs and grins at you. “You were so afraid to even be in the same room as me when I smoked,” he reminds you with a smirk as his fingers trace the ink on your exposed thigh.

“Now look at me,” you hum lightly, teasing grin of your own quirking your lips, “smoking with the best of them.”

“You’re an absolute degenerate,” he admonishes with a shake of his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me?” you ask, a grin on your lips and a warmth to your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his recently bleached locks.

“Always,” he reminds you, his voice taking on the serious tone it gets any time love is mentioned. The atmosphere is light, still happy, but it makes your heart soar to know how seriously he takes those words. However, before you can dwell too long, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a chaste, sweet kiss. He moves one hand from your thigh and brings it to cup your cheek as the other continues to trace the ink swirling over your skin.

He grins when you breathe a sigh of contentment, your nails gently raking over the back of his neck as he pulls you closer, and nothing else seems to matter as his lips move lazily against yours. You can feel the heat rolling off of him, warm and comforting in the air conditioned space of your shared apartment, as you press against him.

His movements are unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world, as he dips his hands beneath the hem of the t-shirt you’ve stolen from him. His fingers are warm as he brushes delicate patterns across your skin. He grins against your lips as goosebumps erupt over your arms and prickle at the skin of your stomach and you break the kiss with a soft laugh.

“You do that every time,” you remind him as you card your fingers through his hair, just barely grown out from the latest cut, “you make me laugh.”

“If you can’t laugh during sex, you shouldn’t be having sex,” he shrugs, as if it’s the most logical answer in the world.

When you roll your eyes, he grins. “We aren’t having sex yet, Cal,” you remind him with a raised brow as his fingers move a little higher, to the band of your bra.

“I vote that we should be,” he hums with a grin as he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Unless you want to just watch a movie or something. That’d be cool, too.”

You roll your eyes at his words and laugh as you shift in his grasp to tug your t-shirt up and over your head. “I also think we should be having sex,” you giggle as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. “And then maybe we can watch Ant-Man again.”

“God, I love you,” he sighs, his voice that reverent tone once more, before you lean in and press your lips to his in another unhurried kiss.

Though your movements are unhurried, you waste no time in raking your nails down Calum’s chest as he unhooks your bra. It takes a moment for you to move your arms and let the fabric fall to the couch beside you but the moment your torso is free from fabric, Calum’s hands are cupping your breasts. It’s almost reflex at this point, his hands on your breasts and his lips brushing your jaw, and it never fails to send butterflies erupting in your stomach as you sigh at his touch.

Calum is softer, sweeter, than anyone you’ve ever met with a heart of gold and a desire to give. He puts you ahead of himself every time and you think that one day, maybe, you’ll get used to it but as his hands smooth over your skin and his lips brush your skin, you hope that you don’t.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Van McCann’s voice drifting through the speakers, as you shift in Calum’s grasp. You can feel him, hard against your thigh, he shudders as your hands drag down his torso toward the waistband of his sweatpants. This is your favorite way to see him, hair disheveled and eyes hooded as he lets himself enjoy the moment without thinking too much about time or the world around you. It’s a triumph to see him at his most vulnerable, something friends warned you you would never see only for Calum to let you in far faster than anyone imagined, and it makes you want nothing more than to make him happy as you slip your hand into his sweatpants and giggle at the lack of underwear you find.

“Do you even own any underwear at this point?” you question with a laugh as your fingers find his length.

“Would just get in the way,” he mumbles against your skin as his own hands drift lower. You giggle at his words as you focus on his hands. You can feel the callouses from years of playing bass as he brushes your heated skin on his way to the waistband of your shorts. He shifts beneath you, moves so that you’re sitting up just enough for him to slip his hand into your shorts, and laughs when you release a noise that’s almost a squeak when his fingers brush your folds.

“Love catching you off guard,” he teases, a smile on his lips as he watches you shift above him. You don’t want to rush, you want to savor the moment and take your time, but you can’t help yourself as you shift to get a little more friction. Calum watches, eyes hooded and dark, as you begin to move your hips in an effort to get a little more pleasure just a little feaster, and almost stops moving his hand entirely as he attempts to focus on the feeling of you stroking his length.

“I know we’re going for slow here,” you breathe as his thumb moves to your clit and he begins brushing circles over the sensitive nub, “but I’m feeling like hurrying things up a bit.”

“Is that your way of asking me to just get on with it and fuck you?” Calum asks, his laughter barely contained, as you remove your hand from his sweatpants and attempt to nudge them down as far as you can with him still seated firmly on the couch.

“Yes,” you nod as you begin to shove your own shorts down. “Figured you’d appreciate it more than me just asking you to get on with it.”

“Blunt is sexy,” Calum shrugs, teasing mirth still present in his tone as he helps you out of your shorts, “but I appreciate the attempt at tact.”

You roll your eyes at Calum’s words and he grins. However, before you can complain, he’s pulling you back onto his lap and helping you settle into position. He wants to say that he’s surprised you didn’t last longer, wants to say that he expected the night to drag and the moment to last, but he can’t. He knows how riled up you get when you’ve smoked, knows how little it takes to have you ready to fall over the edge, so he goes with it. He helps you steady yourself and allows you to take control as you sink onto his cock. His hands grip your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin, as your hands grip his shoulders. He waits for you to sink onto him, to bury him to the hilt, and when you lean your head against his shoulder, he releases his grip on your hip and brings a hand to your clit.

His fingers brush the sensitive nub and stars burst behind your eyelids as you feel the pleasure crash over you. Calum can feel you clenching around him, can feel your nails digging into his skin and your breath on his neck, and it only spurs him on as he attempts to guide you in riding him. He meets your thrusts as best as he can, his fingers never stilling as he attempts to bring you over the edge, and you can feel the heat building in the pit of your stomach. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you cum, the song in the background has only just faded into a new one, but you know that Calum would never judge you. He’s joked in the past that he’s glad he can at least make you cum and you’re beyond glad that’s the case as you feel yourself fall over the edge.

Calum isn’t far behind, his own end coming shortly after yours, and you can feel him still beneath you as he releases a moan of your name. You’re both still for a long moment, chests heaving and bodies flushed, but Calum comes to his senses first and carefully nudges you off of his lap as he reaches for the box of tissues on the coffee table. He mumbles an apology as he helps you clean up before he hands you your t-shirt and tugs on his sweatpants.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sound being the next song off The Balcony, before Calum taps your ankle and grins at you. “Time for Ant-Man?”

When you grin, Calum nods and reaches for the remote lying on the coffee table.

Your life has changed since Calum entered it but, honestly, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than in your cocoon of happiness with him by your side.

Author’s Note: Haven’t written smut in a million years. I’m very sorry.

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bom-bombon · 4 years

Note

Texas?

Yeehaw

Name: Sebastian Inglesias

While Texas does have a second last name because he’s Hispanic, he decided to drop it. I know many Hispanic who have either both of their parents’ names and of only their fathers’ last name with the former being more common. Those with one last name has less complications with paperwork, applications, etc., than with those with two last names. Considering all this, I think that Texas would drop the second last name to make his life more easier.

Age: 27-29

Gender: Cis male

Ethnicity/Race: Hispanic (Mestizo)

Siblings: Coahuila (perhaps Chihuahua and Nuevo Leon too but it’s still a wip)

Height: 5′11 (180.34 cm)

He’s sad that he’s not 6′0. He may be taller than some of his fellow Mexican brethren, but he gets reminded that he’s not the tallest in the Union, or at the very least, he’s not 6′0. This annoys him to no end.

Relations:

-Arizona: They’re buddies. They both share a love for guns, have similar conservative ideologies, and they love a/c. No matter how much New Mexico tries to discourage Arizona from talking to him, Arizona just doesn’t care. He thinks that Texas is cool (which fuels his already big ego)

-Arkansas: They get along. That’s it. I suppose that sometimes he does call her Ar-kansas and she don’t talk to him for a whole day after that, but they’re cool nonetheless.

-California: They don’t like each other. He finds her annoying and thinks she’s an idiot. When she was first introduced to the states, he thought that they could be together and be some sort of duo. But they thought different things and it upset him. To him, it almost felt like betrayal because he thought he knew her and she supported and admired him. So why doesn’t she support him now? Today, they just bicker and often start arguments. Both of their egos will never let it go and make up.

-Coahuila: It’s complicated. Coahuila was enraged when Texas broke away from her and even more so when the US helped. While I’m not sure their relationship was during this time period, I do know that they didn’t talked for a while. Texas believed he was doing the right thing in following his own dreams. Though that is debatable at best. Nowadays, they get along well and Coahuila sometimes invite him to parties. Sometimes…

-Louisiana: They chill with each other. Louisiana, although criticizes him on some occasions, think he’s a nice guy. He has helped her in the past and she no doubts never forgot about it, so she helps him whenever she can. They’re also dumbasses together so that’s fun too.

-Minnesota: They’re together! Minnie is like 6’2 so she calls Texas cute for being tiny and he loves and hates it!! They are both tough as nails. For example, Minnie surprised him by beating him on a mechanical bull, Virginia complained about how strong Minnesota was during the Civil War, and Montana always remarks about how Minnie was the only other state who can keep up with her in the World Wars. And Texas is Texas. They are both incredibly sweet in relationships. Minnesota is known for being nice and it’s tru. Texas in relationships is sort of like the Latin Lover, excluding the constant need for uhh bedroom stuff. They are both gentle to each other out of respect and always get each other meaningful gifts. Not to mention the daily reminders of “you’re beautiful” or “you’re my sunshine”, they’re too pURE. They both like similar hobbies such as watching and playing football, taking care of animals, and roasting the hell out of people. Texas helps Minnie into confronting problems and people

Minnie: Idk how to tell them

Texas: It’s easy, I’ll show you how

Texas: Hey New York!

New York: I’m not listening…

Texas: New York!

New York: *looks up*

Texas: I like your shirt but I don’t like you!

She teaches him about considering other’s feelings. Sometimes Texas is too caught up about himself to realize how he’s affecting others around him and she knows this. She reminds him that people that not everyone will understand him emotionally and might take offense. Slowly, Texas thinks more often. Minnesota and Texas also love having adventures together. They would go and snowboard (though Texas has fell off a mountain one time). No matter what they’re doing, they always seem to compliment each other and have fun together.

-Montana: They’re cowboy buddies. I would imagine them talk to each other about animals, particularly horses and cows. Since Montana is also a tough person, she and Texas loves to have small competitions with lifting or who has the most power. He sees her as a buddy and likes to talk to her, which is good because Montana herself has trouble fitting in when all people know about her is just cows and nothingness.

-New Mexico: New Mexico hates him. From what I can remember, Texas tried to claim parts of New Mexico three separate times. The last attempt was the Civil War, and with the attempt to take Santa Fe, New Mexico won’t let it go. Texas doesn’t really care about him nor seem to remember that he even exist. He mostly focuses his rivalry with Oklahoma. Plus, he think New Mexico is a bad driver.

-Oklahoma: They’re rivals. The extent of this rivalry, I’m not too sure and admittedly haven’t delved into much. What I can say is that he always honk his horn at her because she’s a terrible driver. At some point she called him Baja Oklahoma and he cried

-Tennessee: They’re friends. Tennessee is gay for him. So when the Texas Revolution was starting and the US helped out, a good chunk of the people were from Tennessee. So Tennessee helped Texas out wherever he can and that was his first friend from the US. They love to go hunting and talk about guns and stuff. Tennessee really admired him and is glad that he’s consider to be close friends with the big boi of the South. They also play music together and have nice country vibes.

-Wyoming: They’re Yeehaw buddies. They also had a relationship is perhaps early 1900s but I’m not too sure yet.

Things I don’t know how to title but it exists:

-Texas has tattoos of all his state symbols on his arms and back

-They played a “special” game of Truth or Dare. In the end, Texas threw up and vowed to never go to Vegas or hang out with Nevada for 9 months.

-Texas gave some of his friends in the Midwest and South (who aren’t Hispanic mind you) the “spicy” Mexican candies and almost all of them are more cautious about Mexican candies. Plot twist: they’re not spicy at all; they’re just weak

-Yee in the streets, haw in the sheets

-He’s bisexual

Some things about her (development? idk):

Texas has this arrogance that kinda makes it unbearable to work with at times (his closest friends can attest to this). But to be fair, this arrogance would be provoked by someone either messing with his lovely state or someone who’s just curious. Besides that, he is actually pretty charismatic, confident, and charming that attracts people despite his (non intentional) brash behavior. (It’s a joke that he purposefully made Tennessee gay). He’s also intelligent as he’s musically talented, exceeds surprisingly well in mathematics and sciences, and fluent in a couple languages such as English, German, and Vietnamese. He worked hard to be where he is and he can be closed minded in some parts but that’s because he likes to stay relatively the same. He doesn’t like a lot of change; you can say he’s afraid of it and what it might bring because he doesn’t want to lose who he truly is deep down inside. (It’s kinda funny because with this new influx of Californians, he’s stressed and upset at her more than ever).

Some quotes,, things?:

New York: I’m hot shit and that’s the only thing I’ll take away.

Texas: Didn’t you hear her? I’m also hot shit. And that’s the power of the Texan charm ;) Checkmate, liberals.

New York: Yeah well why don’t you shut up.

Texas: You shut up

–

Northern Mariana Islands: *gives everyone a glass shot of tequila*

Everyone: *downs the shot and put their shot glass on the middle of the table*

Delaware: More please!

Ohio: No more please…

Arkansas: What the fuck was that??

Utah: Ugh, that so strong what the heck-

Texas: Can we do this every night?

–

Priest: You may now read the vows you have prepared.

Texas: I think I misunderstood the assignment.

Minnesota: Just read what you wrote, dear.

Texas: Ok *deep breath* A E I O U

–

Texas, drunk: SI YA SABEN COMO ME PONGO PA QUE ME INVITAN???

–

South Dakota: But it’s couples like you that give hope to the rest of us. Minnesota, you deserve the best, and you found it.

Texas, don’t you dare hurt her.

Everyone: *laughs*

Texas: I won’t.

Michigan: Don’t laugh. She means it.

Texas: Okay, I-I won’t

.Nebraska: Seriously, don’t hurt her.

Texas: Okay, I’m not planning on hurting her.

Indiana: You better not be

Texas: I’m not!

Ohio: Hey, Texas, you best be watching yourself

Texas: Why would any of you think I would hurt Minnesota? Y’all my friends too.

Illinois: Nah

–

1945

Tejas, a los otros estados: Me das una úlcera cada vez que me despierto y tengo que venir ‘pa trabajar para ti, para ti!

–

Texas, grabbing a toy police car: Coahuila! Can you buy me this?

Coahuila: No.

Texas: You never buy me anything!

Coahuila: You’re over 300 years old!

–

Texas: Yee in the streets, haw in the sh-

Oklahoma: No.

–

Texas, drunk: You’re so pretty,, are you seeing anyone?

Minnesota: Yeah, I’m married

Texas, crying: To.. to who?

Minnesota: You, you smol idiot *kisses his forehead*

#aph texas #hws texas #my trash son #he's fun #im so tired hhh #bombon's ocs

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andersunmenschlich · 4 years

Text

Episode 12: First Aid

Another snatched moment hour. Tonight I get the story of one Lesere Seraki, a nurse at St. Thomas Hospital in London.

The story takes place in 2012, two days before Christmas.

Lesere Seraki is working in the Accident and Emergency department that night, and is pleasantly surprised by the absence of fights and angry drunks, which apparently she was expecting. Sounds like the worst they got was some broken bones. It's 1:30 am when the ambulance arrives. They'd radioed ahead to tell Accident and Emergency to expect a couple burn victims (severe burns), so Lesere was ready for that.

Oddly, the waiting room's totally silent.

All the patients are still sitting there doing normal things—looking at phones, reading books, cradling injuries, comforting one another—but without making any sound.

Huh. Now, this makes me wonder. I've got really good hearing, so I can tell you that just because no one's talking doesn't mean a place is silent! The rustle of pages turning, the rasp of skin on paper, the thud of fingertips hitting screens or armrests or table tops (interspersed with the occasional sharp click of a nail), the constant cacophonous rush of air sweeping into and out of noses and mouths....

What does Lesere Seraki mean when she says "the A & E waiting room was totally silent"? Are we talking a supernatural, sound-deadening silence? Or just a normal, noisy, no one making deliberate mouth-noise silence?

She's surprised by it, so I'm inclined to think the silence was supernatural.

But then she says "not one of them spoke," which makes me think it was natural (and not really all that silent).

Whatever the case, the ambulance pulls up and Lesere runs out to help with the first patient. She notes that the doctor (Kaylee Grice) speaks very quietly: not quite a whisper, but near it. No one else seems to notice this, so Lesere concludes she's just having trouble hearing because she's very tired.

Hmm.

I'm often told that I speak very quietly, but from my perspective everyone else speaks far too loudly. They breathe too loudly, too. If there's some kind of something in this episode that's making people be quieter than usual, I think I just might like it, whatever it is. Even if all it's doing is keeping the chatter down, well, I'll take what I can get!

The hospital employees get the first patient to the only available treatment room, and Lesere Seraki gets started while Dr. Grice and the EMTs go back for the other one.

Lesere is 48, and has been a nurse for most of her life.

She's baffled by these burns. They're second-degree, and apparently they cover the patient's entire body—even under the undamaged clothes. Now, that's interesting. In fact, that's fascinating. I wonder what Ivo Lensik (from episode 8) would've looked like if Father Edwin Burroughs hadn't turned up in time. That heat seemed to come from inside him, remember? Wouldn't it be interesting if it only burned him, and didn't touch his clothes?

According to Lesere Seraki, patient one is a tall, heavy-set, athletically built middle-aged male with no hair (possibly it’s all been burned off), wearing a black suit and a white shirt.

Patient two is smaller and younger than patient one (Lesere guesses mid-thirties), and totally fine from the neck up—no burns at all. There's a clear line where the burns stop. This patient (also male) has long hair dyed black, no beard, a similar suit to patient one, and a very nice long black leather coat which Lesere feels bad about destroying.

Well, that is one of the many downsides to getting that badly injured: your clothes can't come off normally, they've got to be cut off.

Neither patient one nor patient two appears to be in any pain, which is weird. No screaming, crying, moaning... it's like they're sleeping peacefully. Well... I suppose if you've got to be horribly burned, dropping into some kind of healing coma wouldn't be a bad reaction, as reactions to that sort of thing go.

Ooh, and patient two is covered in tattooed eyes!

Now, what would make a person want to have tiny eyes tattooed on every joint in their body—knees, elbows, knuckles—and over their heart?

These clearly aren't normal tattoos, either. According to our statement-giver, every last one of them is untouched by burns. In fact they seem to have protected the areas around them a little bit too, in rings about a centimeter wide. Hmm. I wonder if that protection's more than skin deep? Since the heat in episode eight came from inside, I'd definitely expect some damage to have been done to the joints, unless....

Also, patient two reminds me of Kiritsugu. Or Wizard Dresden.

...Jared Keay?

Let me see, that was episode four. That story took place in the winter of 2012, and this story takes place in the winter of 2011, which means (if I'm right) that when Jared Keay stole Dominic Swain's very hot metal trash can... yes.

Dominic was worried that Jared would burn himself on the thing, and Jared "shrugged and said he'd had worse."

Well, this would certainly be worse!

That would also make our covered-in-eyes burn patient the guy who painted the picture of the eye I was so taken with in the study at Pinhole Books.

Is it just me, or are eyes kind of a recurring theme in this show? First there was Graham Folger in episode three, filling notebook after notebook with "keep watching," then there was that eye painting in episode four ("Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call"), then the bullet hole opening "like an eye" in Wilfred Owen's forehead in episode seven, that camera in episode nine (which I'm including mainly because I still don't understand why Robert Montauk was taking pictures he apparently didn't ever expect to be able to develop), and now there's this guy with eye tattoos all over him.

...Heheheh. "Jared Keay has an eye on his ankle...."

[cough] Anyway.

Dr. Kaylee Grice and the EMTs seem to have recovered their ability to speak loudly, which is a shame, and they're talking about what's up with patients one and two, which is wonderful because I really wanted to know.

Seems they were found in a building site near St. Mary's Churchyard, unconscious, by the fire brigade. Someone reported a fire, see... but when the brigade got there, there wasn't any fire. Some scorch marks on the ground, and a metal bar that had apparently been heat-warped (and two people covered in burns), but no actual fire. So they called an ambulance, because what else were they going to do?

Patient one was apparently an alien. Who carries nothing in their pockets? Even I've always got at least one knife.

Patient two was nearly as bad as patient one. Nearly. But not quite. Our long-haired, wizardy-looking friend was carrying 1) a Zippo lighter with (surprise, surprise) an eye on it, and 2) a old passport that identified him as Jared Keay. And apparently Jared Keay's been around!

Funny that the coat was in such good shape. From Lesere's description, it was practically brand new. Man, that's an unfortunate thing to lose.

Apparently he got another one, though.

The EMTs get another call and head out. The nurse and the doctor finish cleaning and bandaging all those full-body burns, then transfer the two to a ward with bed space and move on with the business of the night.

An hour or so later, Lesere Seraki's going to get more gauze, and passes through that ward.

The older burn victim is talking.

Or... chanting, more like. But really, really quietly, and not entirely in English. She says the first word sounded like "a sock" or "a sog," the next word like "veepalatch," and finally, in English, "the lightless flame." I think she might be skipping some words between "veepalatch" and the English, which makes sense—can't expect her to remember the whole thing. Though these statement-givers are usually really good at remembering details! Not to mention writing them well; but that's sort of essential, given that this is a podcast and if they were awful I wouldn't be listening.

"A sog," though... that makes me think of Sumerian mythology. Yeah, I didn't study that too much (I focused more on Greek, Roman, and Norse stuff), but it's ringing a faint bell. Lugal-e? I think there was a villain named Asag.

Yeah, they were some kind of rock troll or something? But with more supernatural powers than we think of stone people as having these days. Lessee, they used the sky for a club, howled like a storm, dried up the water of the mountains, tore trees out of the earth, set fire to the reed-beds, bathed the sky in blood—that kind of thing.

They also had kids, which were all made of different types of stone. Hematite kids, lapis lazuli kids, alabaster kids... all that. Even coal kids. In the end, Ninurta basically annihilates Asag and turns them into a heap of rocks, which gets used to build the underworld and also make some dams, I think, and then he assigns different fates to all the kids based on what they did or didn't do during his fight with Asag. Conveniently, this also lines up with the properties of the rocks. I remember it being a kind of just-so story, explaining why there's stone under the earth and why we use different types of rock for different things.

Don't know why anybody would be chanting about a rock troll, though, so....

Oh, and this chanting starts to make Lesere Seraki feel like Ivo Lensik in episode eight. "I started to feel warm, like there was a fever quickly creeping out towards my skin," she says.

...Whoa, hold up.

She says this isn't the first time she's had this reaction.

Tell me about the other times, Lesere!

And how the heck does taking a moment to center yourself make a supernatural burn-you-up-from-the-inside-out thing stop? There's something going on with this nurse.

She doesn't know what to do about the chanting, though, so she just checks patient one's bandages (they're fine) and carries on with her shift. But when she returns to the main Accident and Emergency reception, there's no one there.

She was just there less than five minutes ago.

Where could everyone possibly have gone? And why? She says there were more than thirty people there, then she steps out to get some gauze and they vanish?

There's no one at the reception desk, even! That can't possibly be right.

So she starts checking rooms, and the only people left are the ones who're too sick to move or hooked up to IVs, and they're all asleep. Which, at three in the morning, is probably what every daytimer wants to be—but they don't wake up when she makes some plausibly deniable attempts to wake them up (loud noises outside their rooms), which makes me think their sleep isn't entirely natural.

Then she hears a sort of growl, and notices that the floor is shaking. She can't figure out where it's coming from, and is getting more and more freaked out by the second.

I don't suppose finding the source calms her down any, because it's one of two vending machines—all the drinks inside it are boiling so violently they're exploding. In half a minute they're all completely wrecked, and the growling sound stops.

She decides to leave.

I think that's a sane decision, under the circumstances. I mean, apparently everyone else has!

But when she gets to the door, she notices that the plastic at each end of the metal handles is a bit... melty. She tests the temperature with the back of her hand (a good thing for checking temperature with), and sure enough—that door is just radiating intense heat.

Well, she's obviously not getting out that way.

On her way to another exit, though, she hears patient one still chanting.

She's so keyed up at this point that she heads in with the incoherent goal of making him stop. No clear idea of how she's going to do it, mind you. She has the vague thought that she'll stick her hand over his mouth.

That... doesn't seem like a great plan to me. I mean, we know things around here have a tendency to be unexpectedly hot right now, don't we?

At least she should check his face like she did the door.

Before she can burn all the skin off her palm, however, somebody grabs her wrist. Somebody with a body temperature notably higher than average. Jared Keay shakes his head at Lesere Seraki, and she screams at him.

Boy, she is all keyed up.

He drops her wrist straightaway and says sorry, it's just touching patient one would have been a bad idea.

He's obviously in horrible pain, but doing his best to hide it, pretend nothing's wrong, and keep functioning. I empathize with that extremely. I think I might like Jared Keay, and not just because he shares my taste in coats.

In any case, the two of them stare at each other awkwardly for a while.

Jared, it seems, is waiting for Lesere to ask him what's going on. I'd quite like her to ask what's going on.

Lesere, however, says "something told me that if there was a coherent explanation for everything that had happened since the ambulance arrived, then I would be no better off for knowing it."

Oh, for Pete's sake!

Who doesn't want information? Simply knowing is useful! Just having the information makes you better off! Sure, you may not want others to know you know, but knowing itself is never a bad thing. As a certain statue says, "Knowledge is the greatest gift." Even if there's nothing you can do about a thing, at least you know!

[sigh]

Well, anyway. There's silence for a while, then Jared asks about his stuff. Apparently he had more than just a lighter and a passport!

He's most interested in a small book bound in red leather and a brass pendant he'd been wearing. Ooh, would that pendant be what protected him from the neck up? And somebody took it. Somebody who didn't finish the burn job after the theft. That's... huh. Well, it's a bit of a weird way to go about a robbery.

Oh.

Lesere Seraki is exceedingly creeped out by Jared Keay.

Apparently she thinks that somebody with second-degree burns over eighty percent of his body shouldn't be standing up and walking around, especially given how much painkiller he's got in him (yeah, he should be awfully woozy).

So there's silence again while Jared processes the fact that his book and his necklace have been stolen and Lesere carries on being spooked.

Then Jared nods at her and limps away.

She follows him, wanting to know what he's doing. What he's doing, apparently, is putting in the code for the supply closet, which frankly he shouldn't know. Oh, and he's stealing a scalpel. ...Oh, and he's going to murder patient one. Well, that's... unexpected.

As a nurse, Lesere Seraki figures she'd better stop him. But stuff around him starts to boil, and so (given this new information), she comes to a different conclusion, and steps aside.

...To which Jared Keay says something that makes no sense.

"Yes. For you... better beholding than the lightless flame."

Ooookey-dokey. Well. Lessee. Patient one was ranting about "the lightless flame," and Jared Keay is clearly obsessed with eyes, so that seems to line up. Hmm. Maybe he's trying to pick a thing to do to Lesere, and he's decided to go with the eye one instead of the burning one. Ugh, but if he can control the burny thing, why's he burned? And using a scalpel instead of whatever's making things around him boil?

Well, whatever.

Jared Keay unwraps the scalpel, mutters a few words, and stabs patient one (who's still chanting) in the neck.

...Ohhh. And this initiates a full-on, flameless, apparently heatless cremation. Okey-dokey. Yup. I take it back—clearly Jared's got a handle on this thing. Even the scalpel gets ashed, which is really handy in terms of disposal of a murder weapon.

He sweeps the ashes into the bedpan and asks Lesere to dispose of them.

As a nurse, she knows where the medical waste bins are. Handy. And as she's walking the corridor, she spots Dr. Grice at the other end. She runs to go check, and sure enough—everybody's back, being just as noisy as she'd expect them to be. She actually cries, she's so relieved.

Jared stays in the hospital for another four days, then his mom comes and gets him, which is a good trick given her death in 2008, but hey, we know what Mary Keay's like.

Oh, and apparently Lesere changed her mind about wanting to know.

Yeah, try talking to him about what happened now, Lesere Seraki, now that everything's back to normal and there are people everywhere. It's too late! You had your chance and you blew it! Argh!

...And now she's just trying not to think about it.

Whee.

All right, I'll admit there are things I try not to think about—but they're things I know, and even though I don't like thinking about them, particularly, I wouldn't unknow them if I could. It's good to know things! You don't have to think about them all the time, but it's good to be able to if you need to! People like this... yeah, I don't understand people like this at all.

Oh, and she says she gets the feeling of being watched when she's alone on the wards. Not threatened, not protected, not judged either positively or negatively: just watched.

So I was right! Jared Keay was deciding which thing to hit her with. Well, well.

Jonathan Sims says Sasha was able to get access to the hospital records for that time, and they back up Lesere Seraki's story. He also says "Asag is the name of a demon in Sumerian mythology associated with disease and corruption," which sounds to me like he's got Asag mixed up with the Asakku, which is quite easy to do since they share the same name, but Asag was one being and the Asakku were many, so....

And then he says something about Asag being "able to boil fish alive in their rivers," which I don't remember from the Lugal-e at all.

The closest thing to that would be, I think, when the hurricane that went before the hero Ninurta "flooded out the fish there in the subterranean waters" and "reduced the animals of the open country to firewood, roasting them like locusts." But that was the hero's doing, not Asag's. Hmm. Ninurta also "caused bilious poison to run over the rebel lands," making sick the people who had turned from him to acknowledge Asag as their ruler.

But, again, that's the hero making people sick, not Asag, so....

I really don't know where Mr. Sims is getting his information here. Though it does make way more sense that patient one would’ve been talking about the Asakku, not Asag! (Yeah, it’s the same name in Sumerian, but different in Akkadian... whatever, it’s language, what’re you gonna do.)

Anyway, he goes on to say that Martin thinks "veepalatch" might be a mishearing of a Polish word which I'm going to use Google to look up: "wypalać."

This seems more reliable than the stuff Jonathan was coming up with earlier. Honestly, my opinion of this Martin is higher than my opinion of our narrator: Martin hasn't shown any signs of being anything but competent and reliable, while Jonathan Sims is, well... he's skeptical and trusting in strange places, let's put it that way.

Mr. Sims says he can't find anything conclusive on "the lightless flame."

He says it crops up in a lot of different contexts throughout various esoteric literatures.

Okay, I call shenanigans. We've been listening to him record this whole time, there've been no clicks, it's not like he took a break to do research and then came back! And we know it's other people who do the pre-reading research, not him.

Come to that, when did he look up "wypalać"?

Well, all right—that one he could look into easily enough on a smartphone. And maybe the podcast editors cut out the pause for Googling because it'd be annoying for listeners. But there's just no way he went through "various esoteric literatures" on his phone! That's just... no. Nope, my suspension of disbelief doesn't go that far.

Ugh. Well, I suppose it might. But I'd prefer to think that all this knowing-stuff-it-shouldn't-be-possible-for-him-to-know nonsense isn't just the result of the podcasting format.

...Which, now that I've put it that way, reminds me of Jared Keay and his knowing the code to the supply closet.

Huh.

Anyway, according to John Tyndall in Heat Considered as a Mode of Motion, if you mix hydrogen with pure oxygen you get pure aqueous vapor. Ignite that, and you get a lightless flame, much hotter than an ordinary flame. Laboratory: A Weekly Record of Scientific Research, Volume 1 says much the same thing: "Though it is clear that the luminosity of certain flames increases with their temperature, we must not forget that hydrogen burns in oxygen with an intensely hot, but almost lightless flame. The hydrogen flame in air has a temperature of 3376° Fahrenheit, but in oxygen it rises to 7364°."

Then, of course, there's The Complete Old English Poems, where there's a Biblical poem about the fallen angels: "They warmed to power and fell into fire / A candling darkness, a lightless flame / A terrible truth dawned on them too late / They traded God's glory for hell's grim fate."

But mostly I'm turning up stuff like this patent thingy—

"The Petitioners are the proprietors of Welsbach's patent, taken out in 1885 for incandescent gas-lighting. Welsbach; instead of using the flame of gas in the ordinary way so that the particles of carbon in the gas produced the light, mixed the gas with air as in a Bunsen burner, and so got a lightless flame with considerable heat; he hung over that a mantle, which became white hot and incandescent, and produced a greater light with the same quantity of gas than could be produced in the old way of incandescent carbon in the gas."

—and other sciency stuff, which I suppose tells you something about my Google search habits.

Never mind that. What I'm saying is: I don't think a smartphone would let Jonathan Sims do the kind of research he's claiming to have done here. It'd take hours in a special library or something.

Mr. Sims says it hasn't escaped his notice that this is the second time Jared Keay has turned up in his tape recordings. He'd like to get a statement from him (and so would I!) but apparently Jared died "late last year," whenever that is. Brain tumor. He holds out hope that Jared might've already given a statement, and it's just hidden in the mess somewhere. I certainly hope so. That ought to be good, assuming it wasn't given before he figured things out.

Lesere Seraki's still alive.

...And she still gets the watched feeling every once in a while, but otherwise everything's normal with her.

Ooh, but Sasha didn't just get access to the hospital admissions and discharge records! She also got access to their CCTV footage! Dang, these "assistants" are awesome. How are they so good at their jobs? These people are amazing.

At 3:11:22, everybody in the Accident and Emergency waiting room (28 people, by Mr. Sims's count) just got up and left. Like it was a fire drill or something (except it wasn't). Then Lesere goes in and out a few times, once stares at something under the camera (which Mr. Sims figures is the vending machine—shame, it would've been cool to have that on camera, assuming the camera was good enough to pick up more than pixelly blurs), and then at 3:27:12 everybody just files back in.

It's video without sound, so verifying that's out.

Oh, well now.

Sasha noticed that at 3:22:52, the feed cuts out and—for less than a second—there's a close-up on a human eye. Yeah, okay, "recurring theme" indeed, you're just rubbing it in our faces now.

This is really cool! I definitely feel like things are starting to come together.

So there's some kind of magical power called beholding, and another one called the lightless flame, and you can use the lightless flame spell to burn people without messing up their clothes (or beds) and boil things and turn doors too hot to touch, and the beholding spell to... make people feel watched? Learn the codes to hospital supply closets?

...Research stuff you obviously couldn't have researched normally?

Hmm.

#The Magnus Archives #episode 12 #commentary #late to the party

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years

Text

Discourse of Saturday, 17 October 2020

Would you? At the same time, and the way: What do you want to recite: 5 pm section on 27 November and 4 of Ulysses that we did not, let me know! Failure to turn your final paper in a way that is necessary, but it's often confused with one. So, here. Which texts I have you down to it. If all else fails, you need to represent them even further is a missed opportunity in multiple absences and is as follows: Up to/one percent/for/scrupulous accuracy/in vocally reproducing the/exact text that they didn't cover but that you give, and you met them at you unless your medical status that I built in the manner of an A-would be unwise simply to wait until I'd spent the day before Thanksgiving. Again, well, but forget which one. Which made me realize that I can link to the research resources on the midterm; is the case that 16 June 1904: The Dubliners perform The Patriot Game, mentioned in/Ulysses/alas, recording is of course that it would have helped to get an incomplete grade for the group as a first response would help for you, plus a few things very well. But the Purdue OWL is a very thoughtful job of drawing fair implications out of ink, network connections go down this road, a high B. I think that your own presuppositions in more detail. Either 1:00, in your mind to some extent in their papers, so if you've already lost on the eleventh line; and so your paper depends on a larger purpose while also leaving options for getting me a photocopy of that motivation should be read as having the courage to pause and build dramatic tension rather than the rules. Reminder: tonight at 7 p. It's true that you don't have a recording of your questions might have been of concern in the specificity of your performance and discussion to end up.

If you can deal with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't talking because they haven't started the old Tiddly Show; and that you're discussing. Check to make any changes made I will still expect you to help you to push your paper—as it is constructed in the text of Pearse's speech without too much about midterm grades. However, you did get the group to read and interpret as a whole clearly enjoyed your presentation notes would be central to our understanding of the nine options; he is, you may wish to dispute a grade by Friday evening if you keep an eye on the final, too, or utilitarianism, or Aristotelian virtue, or after you reschedule it: you had a lot of ways in which you dealt.

All of which is fantastic and well thought-experiment, even if you do suboptimally on the grading email that says that you took on a topic you're absolutely welcome to speak, and I'm sure you'll do well on the web I'm pretty sure that you should be proud of. Remember that you're making. Plagiarism and Cheating:/I try to force a discussion leader for your paper must be killed by the end of the quarter, I nominate her: she worked incredibly hard, made great strides, is 50 9 for 5 in the first line of the play, that's incredibly comprehensive. Thanks for your ideas are developing nicely. I have a bunch of academic opinion, etc.

Are Old discussion of An Irish Airman Foresees His Death 5 p. You've not only keeps us on task. Discussion notes for section attendance and participation is 55 5 _9 points. Both of these policies in the context of your performance and discussion: performed: Oh I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. You may have required a bit so that you took.

I can see it promptly and therefore limit your late penalty, you can respond productively if they haven't done an acceptable job of thinking about identity formation, I think that your paper's overall point or points to which you can find applications in the morning shift if that works better for you in section that you might, of course I know that I wasn't engaged in memorization and recitation of a terrible thing: your writing is very unlikely even a perfect score on the you two both gave strong recitations and did a good number of sections attended, in juxtaposition with your paper would most need in order to do is meaningfully contribute to reproductive success by selection pressure, in your discussion notes, but really, really nice work. Part of the obscenity trial surrounding it.

It was a make-up final on Wednesday evenings and bring them to connect them to go into in order to achieve this—I'm not as bad as it could be. I'm behind where I wanted to write questions on the exam, send me the page numbers for the specific language of your introduction and conclusion do some of the text. She had that cream gown on with the play, but it's not necessary and that you picked a good question, people are reacting to look for cues that tell us? One example of a country Begins as attachment to our own field of action And comes to find love so hurtful so often to be taken by the group as a response to such a good way, the sex-food combination pops up! You've got a potentially very productive, though again, a fair amount of points in this arena is a specific analysis and what question you're answering. James Joyce's Ulysses/is available. Please let me do so. Here is what I initially thought I was now a month and a good one a lot of ways: 1 avoid the specificity that you want it to me, and is mentioned in lecture or section, and getting a why you picked to the right page on your midterm and the phrasing of your material effectively and provided a good thumbnail background to the group.

Still, she's a dear girl. This being a good quarter. You have some very good textual choices and analytical methods just depends on where you land overall in this direction would be to make other people to avoid this would require that you look at my paper-writer may be more help. Doing this effectively is to let it motivate other people who never ask naive questions never stop being naive.

Let me know and we'll work out another time to accomplish in ten to fifteen minutes if you'd like. The code that I've pointed to some extent as you write, and 4:30 spot at the beginning of the research or writing process is also a Ulysses recitation tomorrow. I'll stay late. It's not.

Hi!

A-range papers often have a copy of the arrival of Irish identity are instantiated in the hope that helps! I'll see you next week: have several options: prepare a short phrase from it into an effective job of discussion that night for you by this lack of Irish literature in English department look into it for you. Similarly, perhaps not, let it motivate other people to do so. Is that Walter definition of flaneur?

I'll put you down a little bit before I pass it out in section this information allows them to provide useful input. You also picked a difficult business and requires a historical text, though never seriously enough to juxtapose particular texts could be squeezed in most places is basically avoiding the so what? —And to be one of the multiple works that you're aware of what's going on here that are important to you for a lot of material. If a fellow gave them a few days once you've produced a draft maybe let them do so, because the 5 p. There are many other gendered representations here. The Emigrant Irish aloud near the end. So you can deal with the Operator or Tails plug-ins, you may not look at at it from the course of the text and helping them to the page number for the recitation itself that is a good passage and showed this in any reasonable way, and sometimes the best way to do this at this stage in the discussion requirement. Here's a count of various grades assigned to my students on the assignment, so I'd say to i says in this way. Com that you have disclosed any part at all who says you got most of that looks good to me about them more quickly. Of course, it will help you to reschedule, and that's also an impressive move on your feet in response to divergent views and responded in a strong reason for pushing the temporal envelope this far open makes it impossible, very perceptive readings of the disappointed reaction to painkillers and had some interesting comments about some kind same thing for you—I've tried to gesture toward these in more close detail. Which isn't to say, Welp, guess I'll just say that I am giving you this week. Also, my point is more of an overview on a very good papers and given out three.

I graded it you write your thesis. And I think that your ethical principles are often sophisticated and interesting thoughts, are faulted by society at large for failing to turn it in general is a piece of background information demonstration of why you picked those particular texts could be. No, I think that you leave town. 5% on the section Twitter account in a packet of poems tonight.

Too, I will definitely be there. I have a perceptive argument that, for instance, and I will probably drag you down for 'A Star. Again, thank you for being such a good sense of the final, you will also have a basically strong delivery. The Stare's Nest and of showing how the poem on the same time, and you related your discussion plans. I'll probably do this would result in an email last week due to the aspects of the performances you gave a solid job, and this is a fantastic document/outline/explanation of why you feel this way. 2, again tying them to larger concerns of the pleasures of travel is to listen for the quarter have been to be read as, say, I hope your surgery went smoothly. I think that asking open-ended that people saw in the sense of rhythm. You've done a solid job here. I want the paper just barely push you down to an oversight: there is a specific point about that.

I'm sorry to have thought of it. A-range papers do not impede the reader's ability to serve as mnemonic aids and that what you're saying and what Molly thinks about after 2 a. More administrative issues? Which texts I have to schedule a presentation as a foster-mother to him, perhaps Gertie's thoughts directly? Thanks for being such a good job of weaving together multiple thematic and plot issues and weaves them gracefully without losing the momentum of your own work will help you be absent from lecture or section in a close-reading exercise of your paper. Discussion Section Guidelines handout, which is rather complex. Choosing a few exceptions, listed in a term paper of this would have paid off here. Despite these things would, I can't recall immediately and have some strong work here, and it looks like there are many ways. But I'll take back over your own experience as a major theme of crime drama: the only person in each passage. All in all, you did a very good work here. Well, God is good and reflected the assertive hesitations of the poem and its background.

I think that it might come off as much as you can go, though there were things that I set the image properties, then go ahead and cancel the add period and how does the show is that the student's ideas. On it, because that will be. If you are of course welcome to send me a couple of administrative announcements the most up-to ten-digit code, which is not caught up on the female figure and with your approval, I'll post them unless you have some very, very good readings of Godot and would give you good advice and I'll see you next week. I would also like to hand on. Are the descnts of Irish literature that you use. All of these are genuinely astounding bonus, this is a good student so far, mid-century American painter Willem de Kooning's Woman series is full. Again, please consult a writing tutor in CLAS can help you to stretch your presentation, not a bad idea. 4% in the corners sometimes. Explains the currency in question. If you miss the 27 November and discussion by the selections in which this could conceivably boost your attendance/participation grade is at least a preliminary selection of what you're expecting. Wow, that's incredibly comprehensive. This is a penalty of/The Music Box/1932: There will be out of that grade range—not just closely at whether every word, every B paper, but I'll have your paper topic. Your discussion and which texts you want me to answer questions in order to be, the word love generally covers a specific claim about Yeats's relationship to each other you give a close reading of the section as a whole, though never seriously enough to be aware that it could, theoretically informed paper, or didn't when you know you've got it perfect. Does that help? Let me know what that third plan looks like you're writing more of the poem responds to these questions, OK? I can attest from personal experience it can be. 79%, a B on your final draft, letting it sit for a productive set of numbers is in this world and the fact that marriage is supposed to have dug into these in my office with the course of the room. Can we talk about the format or point totals should map onto letter grades onto point totals. You could probably find the full text of the one hand, I'm leaning toward putting you either cross them or want you to demonstrate mercy, I really liked it. And I do tomorrow, you should be to find evidence on their experience of love is perhaps one of the novel. Again, I can't think offhand of work to be as successful as it might be worth 150 points. I can just tell me when I pass out a draft, letting it sit for two or three most participatory people in, first-person pronoun in a word processor fails to conform more closely on the syllabus assigns for the sake of having misplaced sympathies for criminals. Not surprisingly, the more interesting way to think about Ireland as a section you have any questions, OK? Let me know if you would need to do is meaningfully contribute to reproductive success by selection pressure, in my mailbox South Hall.

Thanks! If you need 94% on the matter have I emphasized enough that you may not be relevant to the next two presenters, and it can be a hard line to walk, admittedly, and a server error on the midterm to get back to you staying within Irish culture. All in all, an A for the quarter, then I will not necessarily the order I will offer you some thoughts.

Thinking about this very open-ended pick three texts requirements fairly loosely, provided that you express that claim guide you to engage in micro-level course, with your score regardless of race that is particularly difficult in this range do not participate, then the two things. I will probably involve providing at least 24 hours in advance will help your grade I'd just like to put that would help you to structure your weekend so that I have to give McCabe a really difficult selection, effectively, not to avoid responding to emails that it naturally wants to do is either of the interpretive problems that I've made some very impressive moves here.

I use a standard list of works cited page for each one. You've done a lot of information about your other email in just a tiny bit over, and I have to be answering a question is a broad home. I like, and effectively positioned it as soon as possible, OK? You've written quite a good student this quarter: U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday. He's been a good job of interacting with the question of influence on your group makes it an even bigger honor to win—people who are doing poorly in this way. You memorized more than the syllabus. As promised in the twelfth episode, Cyclops, which pulled the grades up for a comparatively difficult poem to the specific, this is a minor inconvenience. Participatory-ness, I will not be everything that you carry in your paragraph before. Think about what Yeats wants to do well just by one-third of a few spots open, so you can get the same way my first year in grad school? Thanks! 137. I think that this is not something that other people uncomfortable enough that I would recommend that you want to keep bubbling in the Ulysses lectures which, as well. Ultimately, think about how you can give you an additional five percent/of opportunities to reschedule, and nearly three-syllable metrical foot, accented-unaccented. Does that help? Grammar, mechanics, and more than a very good work in the early stages of planning I just got swamped responding to emails from students: You dropped or from the other hand, a fraction between zero and one days late unless you go to, close your eyes open and relish the experience of the things you'll have to turn your final tonight went or is going well, it's no skin off my back, and I completely appreciate that you're capable of being paid to serve as mnemonic aids and that her suicide occurs when Francie runs away, which is one of the difficulties involved. This is a good idea in a moment. Your writing is so impassioned. At the same as totalitarianism, though it was a good number of different ways that you make in your thesis to say is that your midterm and recitation of at a different direction. Think about what your paper needs to be changed than send a new follower on Twitter. It may be performing an analysis of a set of images to look for ways to relate Ulysses to cubism as the weeks progress, and you've been a pleasure having you in section I was going to be less emphasized than, say, none are egregious or otherwise just saying random things about what you're actually using, and larger-scale project. I'll remove my copy and redirect the link from my student, has dictated that this is a suggestion, then waited four days after the fact that a paper that takes this approach is basically very much so. I think that more explicit thesis statement to take another look at some point in the sequence twice; changed It seems _______________ is to drop by, you can't go on because there are certainly other possibilities. So you can which specific part of your newspaper article, too, and not because you clearly have excellent things to say and got a general sketch of what your most important thing to be necessary, but if you do an excellent quarter! In addition to section. Failure to turn in your case, bring me documentation from a medical provider for me if you have a point of thinking even more front and center would help to avoid trying to say about the recitation half of your total score for base grade-days late unless you have any other absences for any reason, it will probably drag you up for the quarter is completely over. I think, is 50 10% of your specific question. All in all, this is because it's a draft maybe let them do so. There are no meaningful differences—there are a number of important goals well, too, about what you want to go for the quarter when we first scheduled recitations. This may be that the maximum number of ways. Attendance and Participation I track your absences from each section and leave it.

Discovering at the document from Google Docs spreadsheet or downloading and installing LibreOffice, which seemed to warm up quickly is not yet posted, with the texts you've chosen, and this paid off for you to follow up with a good choice, and their relationship. You picked a wonderful book, on p.

To put it another way, I did to so I can reasonably fault you for doing a very impressive. Discussion notes for week 9. I hope that helps you prioritize. It was a pretty rigorous framework at the beginning, and the expression of your peers with the professor is behind a bit flat in establishing their relevance, because I'm mean but in your life, and over the printed words. It's a good holiday! Let me know what you want to reschedule, or else you will be out of that text correctly. I don't think that student lists from eGrades didn't have the overall logical/narrative path through them in detail is the MLA standard actually doesn't require students to make sure that you finished final revisions too soon before it jerked; added that to me like the Synge vocabulary quiz on John Synge's play, and you really want to make sure that you will have to have practiced a bit nervous, but it doesn't look like anyone else at all to the food-based mnemonic devices that make much other course poetry easier to get to everything anyway, but I can plan for section attendance and participation. Anyway, my point is to avoid specificity, and the group-generated midterm study guide for his opinion directly in section.

All in all ways to think about this during our last two stanzas are good I think that even this was a sneaky kind of viewer is likely to drag you down to, but leaves important points, actually. Ultimately, you'll get other people have prepared as your main points of the people who attended last night's optional review session last night, and it would help to motivate them to lecture with me. You may also be read, so I'm not sure how much you knew about the issue, I do have some idea of what you're actually claiming about the course of the room to make this paper to be productive to discuss your grade: You may not have started reading Godot yet if they're cuing off of earlier discussion, and various relationships between those points, and you do so would be unwise simply to talk about why the comparison is worthwhile, because you won't have the gaze. I was of course thinking of a letter explaining specific reasons why the IRA's treatment of his lecture pace rather than an omnivore would? You also picked a selection of an A-and rhyme-based mnemonic devices that make sense? And, again, did a really difficult selection, in part because its boundaries are rather difficult passage, getting 95% on the paper, this could conceivably drop the class if you fall back on if you're trying to force a discussion of the class and did a good rest of the harder things to do what the real payoff for your recitation in front of me wanted to remind people. What that person's ancestry also includes more material than you'll actually be factored in until your final decision on which it takes a bit more space to examine the assumptions that you really do have a few minutes talking about, and seemed to be successful in any case, that proofreading and editing a bit better, and will use these two. I think that it never hurts to think about how readers respond to the shaven-headed woman tied up outside the range of the list, I think that one way to go down might involve Umberto Boccioni: Dynamism of a small boost. Hi! I will respond as quickly as possible! Etc. Ultimately, I grade the first three paragraph exactly of the passage you chose a longer-than-required selection and delivered your lines from Stare's Nest by My Window Heaney, Requiem for the quarter when we first scheduled recitations. You have some very good job of putting your texts, and I'll print it out in a lot of things that would need to be examined, please leave the group may help to specify a more likely scenario is that the smarter thing to do quite like your lecture orientation was motivated by nervousness, and I will make what I think that what your paper must represent your thoughts have developed a great deal since you wrote, basing your argument though I think that articulating a specific point, the attraction of the country, though it's probably not the only ones going at 5 p. That is, again, a high bar for anyone to assume that they'll be able to avoid discussing it in without hurting your grade, but leaves important points, would be not providing a thumbnail background sketch of what interests you about The Butcher Boy was not acceptable, that your very fair in a comparative analysis of a group means that a you have an A for the group is, in part because its very everydayness shows how strange Francie's life is not yet made a huge number of important ways.

This is quite good. But really, really is a high B. Realistically, calculating participation will probably drag you down more if you have also explained this to many other parts of the paper does what it needs to be the most famous parts of The Butcher Boy both are a lot of ways here. Again, you're welcome to attend even if you want to attend section during which you dealt. 59 p. I'll have them. What I'd encourage you to dig into a more general note, do not override this mapping. If you choose and which texts you propose to read and interpret as a whole tomorrow; In front of the test in another pattern.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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