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i-dont-write-as-often-as-id-like · 2 years ago

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The French Resistance, Chapter 1

Monday, March 6th, Paris, France.

"I am not a resistance spy." I said with a calm voice, as if a gun was not pointed at my head. I simply sat there not showing my discomfort. "I have no reason to help such people. The Reich has done nothing but help my family sir, why would I help destroy it?" I tilted my head a bit, annoyed.

"We've seen you talking with men we believe to be a part of the resistance; you speak fluent French as well." The officer said with disdain, I just laughed and shook my head, raising an eyebrow.

"Old Raoul, a resistance member- Hah! That old man can barely walk anymore, how is he going to fight against the Reich? He's an old family friend, he's been all for the Reich since before the war! Don't be foolish officer, Old Raoul would never do such a thing. Now his daughter, Miss Simonne Batteux, is the one you should be worried about officer. I haven't got much evidence, but she very much so is a French nationalist." I explained, leaning back in the chair. "Her husband Mr. Louis Batteux is as untrustworthy as the French get, he's unemployed, French nationalist, born to a family of French nationalists, and his parents have both been tried and sentenced as resistance members." The officer nodded, writing the information down. I sat with my legs crossed and waited for the next thing he would say.

"You are positive that Raoul Crozier is not a resistance member?"

"Very."

"Understood, you may leave." He waved me off and I stood up and left, dusting myself off. I didn't truly care what happened to the old man, but I saw no reason to lie to the officer. It would have been foolish to do so. Even if I was a resistance member I wouldn't have lied. Of course, I have my secrets, but I'm not a liar, little half-truths are not lies.

"So how did the meeting go with Officer Heilmann? Everyone knows he's trigger happy." I shrugged, making a small hand gesture to say 'so-so' "You're alive, so I think it went better than 'So-So"

"I still had a gun held to my head that entire meeting though, alive, or not it was uncomfortable. Lesson learned; Officer Heilmann thought an old man who uses a cane was a resistance member! Old Raoul Crozier of all people! He's just a stupid old man. I don't even know if he can see anything, he's as blind as a bat!" I laughed, my good friend slapping my shoulder.

"Pfft, that's hilarious, let me guess, he was questioning you because you were talking to him the other day?"

"Yeah, old Raoul of all the men to get me questioned." We laughed together about the situation. I could feel my face flush as he held my arm, grinning. It was unfair that he could just make me blush like it's nothing. "Hey, wanna go to a restaurant today? My good buddy opened a place not too far away, and it's not French, his parents make real beer, not this French shit."

"Sounds great, you always know the best places Goldblatt, I'm glad you used to live here."

"Used to? Buddy we're living here now!" I pulled him out of the building and onto the rough, beaten streets. Around us was men and women rebuilding some places that had been broken during the invasion, we ignored such people, as members of the Reich we were not to speak to those 'bellow us' in their eyes. I just held my head high as I was supposed to, stepping over the rubble. I ignored the eyes staring at us, their opinions don't matter. I smacked his hand "stop sweating, you look suspicious." I whispered through my teeth, my heart slamming in my ears "come on look the part Buchtel!" He quickly straightened himself, holding his head up. I swallowed my anxiety as we stepped inside the small bar. "Ah! Magnus! My good friend!" I cheered, walking over to him, hugging him close.

"My good friend, I'm so happy to see you again!"

"Same to you Ian, been a while! Glad to see you here. Would you like your regular seat in the back?"

"Of course, Magnus." I smiled as he led the two of us to the back, to our private table; two glasses of beer already laid out. "You're a good man, thank you." I raised the glass to him, tipping my head in thanks, as did Buchtel.

"Your friends will be here soon, on schedule as usual" He hummed, pouring three glasses of French wine "And I have the best prepared for such guests, of course. You two are brave men." As he said that three of my dear friends walked in, tipping their hats to him. "Ah, welcome, I have your wine already ready. I will leave so you five can discuss business." He said calmly before walking out of the room, whistling his cheery show tune. I turned to the other four.

"So, as much as I would love to sit, drink and chat with you three, you didn't ask us to meet here for no reason, did you?" The lady shook her head "So what's up Moineau? Why have you called us here?"

"We were informed that suspicions were rising against you and Buchtel. We can offer you to officially join the resistance, we can protect you better than we can now. I promise." I only chuckled and sipped my beer. "I know, I am aware that it could make things worse, and we would be losing a supplier, but the allies are approaching fast. We have hopes that once they get here there won't be a need for suppliers like you, Goldblatt; and Buchtel, you would be nice to have around, you know a lot about their tactics, as you are a military advisor." I could see him think about the offer, glancing over to me with questioning eyes.

"I will have to think about it Moineau, call me when the allies step foot in France and I will give you your answer."

"That is only three months away, Goldblatt. We have been talking with them as of late. June 6th is your deadline."

"I understand. I will have my answer by then." Moineau sighed and looked to Buchtel, who looked as unsure as a deer trying to cross the road. "Buchtel, don't look at me, it isn't my job to choose for you. Though I think it would be good for you, you are... Awful at trying to be a proper soldier." I saw his shoulders slump as he took off his cap and studied it, looking pathetic as he visibly pondered the idea.

"I accept your offer Moineau, I will become a proper member of the resistance." He sat the cap on the table and held out his hand for a handshake. She shook his hand, smiling.

"Thank you Buchtel, I suppose it would be a good idea for you to leave through the entrance Magnus built for us resistance members, he even has spare clothes." Buchtel nodded, holding her hand tightly. It was a shame that I could no longer hang out with him, but this is what we have chosen. "Goldblatt, you should probably leave first, and we will leave later." I nodded, getting up and placing 50 Reichsmarks on the table.

"That should cover the alcohol." I hummed, then placed a good 100 on the table. "And this should be enough to get him a decent place for a day or two. Best wishes to you all." I tipped my hat to them, downing my remaining beer and walking out of the private room, smiling. "Good night, Magnus, hope it doesn't get too rowdy here tonight! Buchtel got himself a real pretty lady, so he'll be here a while." Magnus nodded and waved, walking to the backroom, presumably to talk with the four. I simply walked out the door, heading to my apartment a few blocks away, pulling a cigarette from my coats pocket, grabbing a match as well, striking it off a brick wall I passed by. Lighting the small cigarette and putting it in-between my lips, staring at the burning match, just watching it dwindle down to my fingertips, feeling the heat scorch my skin; it felt good. It was punishment for my past mistakes, and it felt good, it burned and hurt but it felt wonderful and deserved. I couldn't help but smile, once all the match was gone, I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and exhaled contentedly, letting my footsteps slow as I neared my place. As always, my favorite dog was waiting for me at the window, staring at me with those big green eyes. "Hello there Clarisse. You have a good day?" I purred, stepping inside and quickly tossed the smoke, closing the door behind me. She quickly bounced over, her tail wagging, well, her entire body was wiggling. I smiled softly and sat on the couch, patting my lap, beckoning her to hop up. "Good girl, very good girl Clarisse!" I praised as she climbed into my lap, plopping her head down on my shoulder. "Are we going to sleep here tonight? Yeah, we are" I slowly felt my eyes fall, Clarisse resting on me only further lulling me to sleep. I let my eyes shut and leaned onto the couch, yawning as I drifted off to sleep.

I was six, sitting on the sidewalk outside my house, awaiting my mom's friends to arrive. My legs were crossed as if I was in school, my hair nicely slicked back. My mother had asked me to look nice for when they got here. She had said they would be driving a brand-new car, and that it was going to be very shiny so I couldn't get it dirty. She had said that they also had odd beliefs and that they were very different from me. They even spoke a different language. I couldn't help but be curious and fascinated by her descriptions, I wanted to be the one to greet these odd strangers, whose mother tongue was something called Hebrew, and who were so important that they had a pretty car. My parents only had an old dusty one, far from new and shiny. I had also been told that they had a son about my age, I wanted a new friend. Would he be as fancy as his parents seemed to be? Would he be nice? So many questions filled my small head, excitement built in me, unable to keep still I started to bounce my leg. Soon I had heard the buzz of a car motor, looking up curiously as a black Volkswagen stopped by the house. I bounced up to my feet, curiosity shining in my eyes as they stepped out of the car, a young woman helped a boy out of the backseat, the man walking up to me.

"Hello there little one" he said politely, bending down to my height and offering me a handshake. I was simply awestruck by how nice his suit looked. "My name is Clemens Habich, what's your name?"

"My name is Ian Goldblatt, nice to meet you Mr. Habich!" I had stuttered out, shaking his hand nervously "You look really really nice Mr. Habich. My momma told me that I could greet you!"

"Oh, that's wonderful, Ian, you are a very good greeter. Maja, look at this fine young man!" He called to the woman, who smiled, their son in her arms as she walked over.

"Hello, you are a very strapping young man." She complimented me, patting my head. "I'm Maja Habich, and this is my son Oli." Oli waved a bit, holding onto Maja. "Would you like to show us inside?" I nodded quickly, gently taking her hand and hurrying up to the door, opening it for them. "Thank you"

My mother had looked surprised to see them hear, saying something about them being early. Maja sat Oli down, whispering something to him and pushing him over to me. I gave a small wave, smiling awkwardly.

"Hello..." He had mumbled, staring at the floor. "Mama told me I had to make a friend."

"Hello! It's nice to meet you!" I said back cheerfully "I'll be your friend! My name is Ian, you're Oli, right?"

"Mhm." Our conversation continued like that for the rest of the day. He liked to write and draw, which is what we had done together, it was better than talking at that point. Our parents just talked business, nothing awfully interesting to me at that time. But Oli was definitely interesting, I wanted to be his friend so badly. He was just so interesting. My heart seemed to skip beats while he was near, almost like a crush I suppose it could have been called. Oh, Oli how I miss that man, he was a very fun kid....

Tuesday, March 7th, Paris, France

I sat up tiredly, rubbing my eyes as I sighed. Wonderful, another dream about him. I couldn't help but feel bitter about the memory, he was gone, he was gone, and it was my fault! Why does God hate me so much that I am tormented with the memories of Oli. I put my head in my hands, trying not to let the tears fall onto Clarisse. I felt my lip tremble, biting it hard to stop it, blood dripping down from my lip. Who was I kidding? I deserved to be tormented by the man I got killed. He had been doing fine in hiding, he was going to be able to escape but I stupidly opened my damn mouth! I deserved the pain, I deserved to suffer under his judgement. Judgement day will not be kind to me, and I deserve it.

There was a sharp knock on the door, Clarisse leaping out of my lap, and I got up, wiping the blood from my lips and opening the door, holding my head high despite looking like a mess. "I was told to escort you to work today. High command is still suspicious of you, Mr. Goldblatt." The young soldier said bluntly, I gave a nod, and let him into my home. "You look horrible."

"I know." I sighed, going to the bathroom to brush my hair and style it, carefully straightening the curls that threatened to show. I grabbed the small thing of foundation and used it to cover the bags under my eyes and the scars under my chin, blending it out.

"Hurry up! I don't want to be in trouble because you take longer than a woman to get ready!" The soldier yelled, I rolled my eyes and walked out of the bathroom, adjusting my uniform and cap, dusting off Clarisse's brown and white fur.

"Let me give her food and water for today and then we'll leave." I huffed out, whistling and Clarisse trotted after me. I poured her a cup of dog food and a thing of water, opening the back door so she could enter and exit as she needed. "Goodbye Clarisse, I'll be back soon, don't worry." I kissed her forehead and walked back to the living room, flicking off the lights as I walked. "And now I'm ready. You don't need to be so impatient."

"Shut up." He replied, walking out. Oh, what a lovely trip to work this would be, such a rude soldier.

"You really shouldn't talk that way to veterans, you know? It's awfully rude of you, and disrespectful to your country." He looked at me with disbelief as we got in his car. "What's that look for kid?"

"You're a veteran of the First War?" He asked as if it was near impossible for that to be the case.

"Yes. I fought all four years of the war kid, the war started a few weeks after I turned eighteen, and it ended when I was twenty-two, if you can't do basic math, I'm forty-two now. I'm flattered if you think that I look too young for forty." He seemed to stumble over his words as he started driving, a red blush creeping onto his face.

"I-I am very sorry sir; I was not aware that you were a veteran I- thank you for your service." He said with such shame I almost felt bad. I just stared down at him, a blank look on my face. "I am- very sorry that you had to go through the first war- my father was a soldier as well and he told me about how awful it was..."

"It was horrific kid. How old are you?"

"18 sir."

"Still training?"

"Mhm."

"I'd get out of the army if I were you. If the first war was horrific, this one is unspeakable. Lot worse weapons now kid. Just run while you can." I said calmly, looking out the window. "Now tell me kid, do you really believe in everything the government has told you? You seem like a bright kid; I would hope that you wouldn't be as foolish as to believe it all. Don't worry, nobody else will hear your answer."

"I'm not sure sir."

"Then why are you fighting for it? Why fight for something you don't fully believe in?" I sighed "I was in your shoes, those twenty-four years ago, I wasn't completely sure about the empire, even if it was my home, my father was proudly from Württemberg, now Baden-Württemberg, and he didn't like a unified Germany, he liked just being from Württemberg, nothing else. Gave me a lot of weird feelings about the empire." I took a deep breath, looking down at him. "But I decided, whether or not my father liked it, it was my home. We were fighting a war for our allies, Austria-Hungary, we were being noble in a war caused by assassination. That is why I fought, I wished to be noble."

"Where are you going with this sir?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face. I held up a finger as I took deep breaths.

"I cannot see anything noble about this war, we are hardly fighting for ourselves, nevertheless our allies. Take a good look at what's around you," I pointed to the men and women we drove by. "If they were doing what we are doing, the French that is, would you still think it's a glorious cause, or a disgusting invasion? What if they were killing men, women, and children?"

"I would be disgusted. Who wouldn't be?" I chuckled and patted his shoulder, whispering in his ear

"That, my friend, is what we are doing. Doesn't it feel gross?" He gave a nod, trembling a bit. "Everyone you see here are people, everyone that has been killed were people. What about back home? All men, women, and children, just like you. So just think about it." I hummed as I got out of the car, stretching "I assume you will be picking me up, so see you later kid." I gave him a wave and walked inside the office, letting my shoes click loudly on the floor. I looked down at my watch, I was an hour early for work. Lovely, I totally need to spend more time in this place. I tiredly walked to my desk, sitting down in the creaking chair and getting to work. I mindlessly worked for an hour before a good "friend" of mine came over.

"Goldblatt, there you are, normally you're late!" She chuckled, sitting next to me at her own desk "Since when are you early, or even on time?'

"Higherups don't trust me, so they had some kid drive me here, glad to see you though, it's been a while Steinbacher. Hope all is going well with your family."

"Oh yes, everything is going lovely, even better news is that me and Otto are going to be having a child! I can't believe it's finally happening." I gasped a bit, surprise clear on my face. "Yes, that's how he reacted too."

"Congratulations, I'm so happy for you Steinbacher! That is huge news, any name ideas for the little one?"

"Kaleb or Piet if it's a boy and Karolin or Josefine if it's a girl!" I grinned a bit.

"Those are wonderful names, I hope that the pregnancy goes smoothly, I assume that's why you've been out recently?" She nodded, a wide smile on her face. "If you and Otto need anything I'll be here, okay?"

"You're a sweetheart Goldblatt, thank you so much for the offer. I will be sure to tell Otto. Now, about you! See any pretty women as of late?" I stuttered out something, startled by the sudden question. Now there she sat with her chin rested on her hands, grinning. "Well, Goldblatt?"

"Yes-kind of, at Magnus's bar, you know Magnus, right?"

"Mhm"

"Well, there's this really pretty French girl that goes there a lot, Magnus told me her name is Natacha, and she has this gorgeous curly red hair. She can also handle her alcohol well too."

"Haha, of course that's important to you." I felt my face flush with that comment, now fully aware of how embarrassing this conversation was, I shut my mouth quickly and turned back to my desk. My face was alight with shame that I had started talking about my crush like a schoolboy! What a fool I was. I could hear Steinbacher laughing at my expense and warm tears started to trickle down my cheeks, even more shame building within me. "Oh, Goldblatt! You're so sweet!" She laughed, patting my shoulder. "Come on, don't cry!"

"Shut up Steinbacher." I hissed out, swatting at her hand as I tried to focus on my work. This was simply mortifying; how could I say such a thing? Tears just ran down my face, streaking the foundation on my cheeks slightly. How absolutely embarrassing, crying in the office. No matter what Steinbacher continued to giggle, yeah sure, she was a 'friend', but she didn't act like one. A bitter feeling welled up in my throat, but I simply swallowed it along with my pride. I was foolish for even speaking with her, this always happened. Suddenly something brushed against my leg, a barrel. My face went pale.

"Come on Ian~ talk to me, you don't want me to tell everyone your little secret, do you~?" I forgot about her blackmail. There was such a dangerous tone to her voice as the gun trailed up to my chest. "Tell everyone that you're a pathetic traitor, you wouldn't want that, would you?" she asked in a sickenly sweet voice, false cheer lacing her words.

"N-no ma'am." I stuttered out, it had been such a normal conversation, and the way she was able to switch it to threats shook me to my very core, the barrel of an 88mm pistol held to my Adams apple, the slightest of pressure on the trigger would kill me in mere milliseconds. An unfortunate reality for me. "I'm sorry for being rude." The barrel slowly left my neck, her malicious smile only growing,

"That's what I thought, Ian. Now don't be foolish and cry." I gave a stiff nod, my hands trembling as I wiped my tears, my breath coming out in short puffs of strangled air. "You really are cute Goldblatt, such a shame you're a traitor, you'd have a wonderful future here, but you needlessly threw it away, I can't understand why Ian."

"It doesn't matter ma'am" I mumbled, frozen in place, at any second, she could pull out that gun and end me. In some ways I wanted her to shoot me, to end my miserable existence, but like a coward I always ran from my opportunity out, I needed to face my painfully slow punishment for my crimes. Her hand grabbed my chin roughly.

"Oh, but Ian, to me it does, to me that is very important information." I swallowed my pride once more as my lips quivered. My brain was just screaming with the need to run, my leg bouncing with that primal urge to run and hide. She just smirked. "I know more than just your traitorous activities dear, don't be so shy."

"Yes ma'am... I-I joined the resistance because I felt bad about m-my old friend..."

"Your Jewish friend, whom you had a crush on."

"And I-I wanted to honor him, in- some way, as it is my fault that he's... dead." I sighed miserably. "He was my childhood best friend; I feel so horrible about what has happened to him."

"You're so sweet, feeling so guilty about such a stupid thing. Fucking fool." She spat, suddenly pulling me out of my chair. "Now you know what I want baby boy."

"Y-yes ma'am, I know what you want." My heart squeezed in pain at the idea, what would it be this time? What humiliation would I have to sit through? She pulled me into one of the meeting rooms, locking the door. "Tell me what to do ma'am..." The cold smile on her face pushed me over the edge, running to the door and trying to unlock it, only for a bullet to land solidly in my shoulder. A scream ripped itself from my throat, falling to my knees as I held my shoulder, feeling the blood run between my fingers.

"You should know better by now Ian, no running." She hissed, grabbing me by my shirt collar and pulling me back to the center of the room. It felt like I couldn't breathe, staring up at her with wide eyes. Memories of similar events kept hitting me in waves, my heart pounding. I couldn't even hear what she was saying, it was all a blur...

"Commander! Commander wait- please, don't leave me here for dead!" I rasped out, holding my side as blood oozed between my shaking fingers. The sergeant didn't even look back at me. "Please! Just help me up and I'll be fine- please commander, I'll do anything! Anything Commander!" My shaking hands grasped the bottom of his gray jacket, trying to keep him there but he only pulled away, kicking my hand. "Commander- please Sergeant Gottschalk! I-I can pleasure you! Since-Since there's no women out here- please." I begged desperately, finally the sergeant bent down, grabbing me by the jaw.

"Is that so Ian? And here I thought you were an honorable man, not a common whore." He had purred, his rough hand moving my head around curiously. "Oh, I don't see why I shouldn't take you up on such an offer, but it's simply hilarious that you of all men would offer it." I looked away in shame as he roughly pulled me to my shaking feet.

"T... Thank you, Commander." I stuttered out, being dragged into the trenches, my feet barely supporting my body. He had called for the medics with a grin, patting my pale cheek.

"Get better and then you give me your end of the deal." I only nodded as the medics carried me off, my vision fading as the adrenaline wore off. What kind of hell had I just thrown myself into?

The sharp pain of a pistol being brought down against my cheek brought me out of it, tears running down my face. It hurt, everything hurt. I couldn't help but let out a sob, falling forward and just curling up, it hurt, everything hurt I didn't want it to hurt. I heard her low chuckle, and I cried harder, I just could not stop crying, I wanted out.

"Oh Ian, you really are pathetic, but you're cute when you cry like this. I'll let you off easy today, but don't expect the same next time, understood?" I gave a weak nod. She pulled me to my feet and forced me to sit on a chair, digging through the cabinets until she found a first aid kit; lazily patching up where she had shot me and throwing me my shirt. Once I had it on, she helped me out of the room like nothing had happened, smiling her usual sweet smile. She sat me down at my desk and patched up my makeup, hiding the large welt forming where she had slapped me.

"Thank you Steinbacher." I said softly, dipping my head and going back to my paperwork, typing out documents for the higherups about the war efforts and simple numbers. Oh, how I hated this job, it was miserable and such dull work made me long for the excitement of the trenches, it was amazing how one could miss such hell. How I missed Germany as well, France was beautiful, but it was not home. I was deathly homesick, and I wanted to be back in the beautiful lands of Germany. No matter how much I wished I knew it would be a long time before I got to go home, if I got to go home. I thought back to Moineau's offer, I had a few months to think about it, and the more I thought about it the more tempting it was. But it also felt like a cheap way out of my well-deserved punishment, I deserved death for all I had done, yet Moineau seemed to think otherwise, somehow. I couldn't understand how. What did she and the others see in me? Bacher I could understand, he was a long-standing supporter of the French, and his mother was French, he was one of them, I was not. I was just German, a spoiled brat. Bacher had been working with them from the very beginning of the occupation of France, I only joined because I felt guilty; so why did they not want me punished? I was simply a dirty sinner.

I could feel more tears welling up in my eyes, but I rapidly blinked them away, struggling to read the letters I was writing. My fingers trembled as I typed, the pain in my shoulder flaring up with a burning sensation. People around me spoke about Bacher, how he wasn't here today, how unusual that was. Bacher was a model worker. I was worried about him, he was a younger man, only about twenty-five, far too young to be caught up in all of this.

"Hey Goldblatt! How drunk did you get Bacher last night? He must be hungover to not be here today." I chuckled a bit, rolling my eyes.

"I didn't get him that drunk, he's probably sick today. We only had a few beers." I snorted, leaning back in my chair and spinning to face the two other men. "Or maybe he grabbed a pretty lady and had too much fun with her."

"Bacher, being a ladies' man? No way!" They laughed and I couldn't help but laugh as well, grinning at the absurdity of Bacher getting a girlfriend. Bacher could barely talk to men, like hell he wooed a lady. I just laughed. "Seriously, I do hope Bacher is okay, he's never late, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, he's probably sick, that's all. Don't worry too much about him, he's one of our best workers, so I don't feel too concerned." I shrugged a bit, getting up and walking over to the coffee machine and grabbing a cup. I sighed as I waited for my coffee to be finished, looking around the small room of desks. Most people didn't look up until the workday was over, tiredly typing away. I knew most of their names, on the far-right there was Anna Spieglemann, Pascal Neuner, and Bruno Lowenstam. The next row was Louisa Beitz, her sister, Josi Beitz, and Klemens Binger. Next was Killian Panzer, Alois Schuhbeck, and Alois Honigsberg. Most people felt bad for them since they had grown up together and were constantly mixed up. Then there was my row, Me, Oliva Steinbacher, and Vivian Wentzel. Vivian Wentzel rarely came to work, however. The row behind us was Wentzel's husband, Joshua Wentzel, who also rarely came to work, Torben Panzinger, and Niklas Hackenholt. Past them I didn't remember, however my coffee was done, so I sat down with it and got back to work. Hours of mindless typing were ahead of me, and I wasn't very excited about it. It was easier to simply daydream and pray I got it all right. I took a sip of my coffee and started typing, letting my mind wander.

I thought about my days in the trenches, those horrid cold nights, as awful as it was, there was always something to deal with in the morning, I was always moving around, helping the commanders. The deep mud never bothered me, it was the bodies beneath it that made me feel sick to my stomach. The mud was the closest thing to a burial those men would get. Simply thinking about it made my stomach churn. There were also the rats, tame compared to everything else. They were big, about the size of a cat. Hard to kill too, they were mostly fat, filled up on the bodies of the men. Even a danger couldn't seem to get through the fat that covered their oversized bodies. Every now and then one would trip some soldier and get them covered in mud, much to their distressed cries of annoyance.

"God damn RAT!" They would yell in frustration, throwing a random object at them. It was a common occurrence. I couldn't help but chuckle at the memories of frustrated soldiers cursing rats that tripped them, it was funny to look back on. I remember one time a particularly unfortunate fellow had been tripped by one during battle, he met a rather swift end at the hands of a mortar shell that landed on him. We used to joke that the rat was an allied spy, lucky little bastard got away just in time to avoid death. Poor ol Alexander, what a sad way to die, tripped by a rat and hit directly by a mortar shell. Of course, it was a sad occasion, but the absurdity of the whole ordeal had left us laughing, not that anyone outside of our trenches needed to know why there had been such a sudden uproar of laughter, not a single soul needed to know how poor Alexander died, not that he was tripped by a rat, not that he died because of it. I could feel giggles bubbling up my throat, my lips twitching into a smile as I tried to hold them back, poor ol Alexander, died after being tripped by a rat.

"Don't be like Alexander," We would say "Don't go tripping over those rats or you'll get a shell to the head, and we aren't going to clean your brain off the trench walls." I snorted, then giggled, covering my mouth. Oh, poor ol Alexander.

"Hey Goldblatt, are you okay?" I heard Panzinger ask, but I couldn't help but giggle, the little rat spy that killed ol Alexander. "Goldblatt, get a hold of yourself, what's got you giggling?" I looked back at him, still giggling, a stupid grin on my face.

"You remember old Alexander?" I snorted out, giggling more "How he died 'cause of that rat?" Panzinger nodded, confused. "The little spy rat that killed poor Alexander, how we would joke about not being like him?" Panzinger snorted a bit, nodding but still looking concerned.

"Yeah, I remember, that's what's got you giggling, huh?" I nodded, trying to keep quiet. "Maybe you need some fresh air, come on." Panzinger huffed, pulling me to my feet and out to the courtyard. "Come on, laugh, I know you're holding it in" And with that I started uncontrollably laughing, poor ol Alexander, killed by a rat. I laughed more, doubling over holding my sides. "Come on, get it together..." He mumbled, patting my injured soldier. I winced but kept laughing, I couldn't help it. Soon enough I felt lightheaded, dropping to my knees. There were tears in my eyes, the laughter had begun to hurt. "Ian, hey, Ian-!" Panzinger shook me, concern clean in his eyes as I finally got a breath in, a few more giggles rolling out of my mouth as his hands gripped my shoulders. "Ian, take a deep breath, good God..." He muttered, patting my back as I shakily breathed, my hands gripping my pants tightly.

"S-sorry about that P-Panzinger-" I giggled out, tears rolling down my cheeks. I still couldn't help the grin on my face even though I was crying.

"Don't worry about it Goldblatt, come on, let's get back to work." I nodded and we walked back inside the office, getting back to our endless paperwork. I sighed miserably and sipped my coffee, watching boredly as the hours ticked by, ignoring the chatter around me. God I was exhausted but what could I do? I needed to do my work, and I also needed to buy more food for Clarisse, I was running low. Tomorrow, I had another meeting with Moineau, early in the morning too. I had so much to do already, and it was only the 7th day of the month. Friday was my only break from the dull routine of the work I did. Perhaps I could go get drunk, that sounded like fun. I could only dream of something new. Maybe tomorrow would be better. God I could only hope it would be better.

#writblr #my writing #new author #book in progress #The French Resistance;By A. Dietrich

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years ago

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DADDY ISSUES - Part Three: Side Piece

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes y'all have been asking about it for weeks 💀

Prompt: Elvis has made you a proposition that is extremely hard to refuse, especially considering you're broke and unemployed. Will you accept it? And what will Elvis do when you suggest he writes a song to address the turmoil in the country? [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None!!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 4600

A/N: 3 chapters in and no smut. is this officially a slow burn?? 💀 also thank you so much to my lovely Shawni @austin-butlers-gf) for helping me decide wtf to do with Reader here LMAO

Song Rec: side piece - jack harlow

This is Part 3 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

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You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can’t do anything. He has you completely under his gaze, his power, his control. You’re so shocked by his boldness and by the fact that he’s kept your…intimates all this time that you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your brain is somehow simultaneously stalled and spinning at 60 miles an hour. As your brain sprints to try and catch up with his words, it continues to turn around the meaning behind them. Your name? How does he know your name? Oh, of course. With Jerry and the Memphis Mafia at his disposal, he has unlimited resources. Any information he could want to know is at his fingertips. He could probably dig your name up from a photo of your face in a matter of moments with little to no effort on his part.

“Answer the question, darlin,” Elvis repeats himself, something you can imagine he doesn’t do very often. “These belong to ya, don’t they?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out.

Against your wishes, your voice cracks halfway through the sentence and you gulp. He smirks, leaning his head back to drag his eyes down your face and body again.

“That’s a good girl. Now, let’s talk business,” he finally releases your jaw but you feel yourself lean forward into the open space between you, desperately willing his fingers to return and touch you again. “Our arrangement’ll be very simple, very easy. You keep me company, I pay ya.”

You gulp, your eyes dropping down to the deep red carpet to trace the fabric neurotically.

“Wha-what sort of company would I be keeping you?”

“Honey,” he says, glancing at you with an exasperated expression. “Do I really gotta hash out every damn detail for ya? In that case, maybe I don’t wantcha. I could always find another lil girl just like ya. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

You respond too quickly, embarrassingly fast. But you dare to lift your eyes to his and shake your head once. No, that’s really not what you want. At all.

“Good. S’what I thought. Now, Jerry will arrange everythin, tell you where and when to be, what to wear, and if there are any special instructions. Any payment’ll be taken care of after. Now, I ain’t gonna make ya do nothin you don’t wanna do, but I expect ya to follow my rules and listen to ya daddy. I expect ya to learn fast and remember what I like. I expect ya to be here when I request you. Y’understand?”

He’s towering over you. Your chest heaves in and out as you stare up into his seemingly cold, unforgiving blue eyes. You nod, your mouth open even though you’re unable to choke any words out. You wonder why he’s telling you all this, whether it’s to be kind and give you a realistic view of how your arrangement will work or if it’s just so that you don’t inconvenience him while you’re fucking.

“And if ya good,” his fingers gently slide onto your neck and close carefully around the skin, forcing your chin up toward him and just barely restricting the air flow into your wind pipe, “you can have whatever you want, baby girl. If you’re a good girl for daddy.”

You can feel your eyes widen at his words. You can have whatever you want…Honestly, right now, all you want is a stable job and a better apartment. But as the words tumble around your brain, temptation swirls in every corner. You see jewels, diamonds, crystals, furniture, cars, dresses, shoes, bags, anything you could ask for. And for the first time in your life, it all feels like it’s within your grasp. As if he could see the gears behind your forehead grinding, he repeats himself.

“Anything you want, darlin.”

Your eyelashes flutter under the pressure of his gaze. His head leans down slightly toward you and you feel your mouth widen and chest rise up toward him. His fingers squeeze onto your neck as he leans ever closer, tilting his head. His eyes drop onto your lips and stick there as you feel his hot breath ghost over your skin. While his head turns to move into the perfect kissing position, your eyes follow him. You’re stuck, caught in his net, mesmerized by him. The pressure he’s putting on your neck is starting to make you feel lightheaded and your eyelashes are sticking together with the weight of desire. You can practically feel the warmth from his body radiating onto you. Your lips feel swollen and they pulse as if some invisible force is yanking them forward, begging them to press against Elvis. Your head bobs forward with temptation, just a bit.

But as you stare up at him, his eyes still locked on your lips, your cousin’s words sneak their way into your train of thought. You feel your body pull away from Elvis just an inch. Be careful in there…he’s been known to be a little unfaithful…just don’t get into a bad situation with him. Was this what Steve meant by ‘a bad situation’? Did he know that Elvis would ask you to become his…his…The words circle around and around mercilessly. But you push them away, staring back into Elvis’ eyes and observing the structure of his incredibly handsome face.

Bad situation? Is it really…that bad? It’s not as if Elvis is an old man, decrepit and disgusting, begging you to suck him off. In fact, he’s really being incredibly cordial about the whole thing. He’s explained everything, ensured payment, and offered you the choice to back out. And it’s not as if you have a spouse or a significant other to return to. You’re as single as can be and have no attachments or children. Now that you have no job, you’re also free to travel. No job…you need the money. Easy money. The easiest. And you can’t imagine that you won’t also get pleasure out of it, considering the throbbing sensation that’s been plaguing your lower stomach and crotch during the entire conversation. Look at him, for god’s sake. He’s beautiful. What was there to dislike about it? How could this be a ‘bad’ situation?

Just as you steel yourself to respond, Elvis shifts his fingers and the light catches on something. The object reflects brightly into your eye and your gaze locks onto a golden band around his finger. The fourth finger of his left hand, to be exact. His ring finger. You clench your teeth together. He’s married. HE’S MARRIED, FOR GOD’S SAKE. What the hell are you thinking? You can’t get involved with him, in any capacity. The man is married to one of the most beautiful women on the planet and you think you can compare?

You don’t sleep with married men. Even if they are Elvis Presley.

Finally resolved, you step back, away from him, and shake your head.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I can’t agree to this. This is wrong,” you say, only half aware that you’re actually voicing the words out loud.

You glance up at him to see that he’s crossed his arms over his chest. His eyebrows are raised in shock and his eyes quickly flick up and down your body. Silence settles and your heart begins to pound but not in a delightful lusty way. No, this is fear. You start to realize what you’ve done, that you’ve refused perhaps the most wanted man on the face of the earth, that you’ve said no to a man who probably never hears the word. The words ‘bad situation’ start to scream in your mind, enlarged at the forefront as you begin to understand what Steve had been trying to say. You’re alone with Elvis in his dressing room, the door closed, without protection or anyone to call for help. You don’t even know the man and you’ve just refused his sexual advances. How could you allow yourself to get into this situation? You should have listened to Steve, you should ha-

“Aright,” Elvis finally responds, hardening his jaw. “If that’s how ya really feel I ain’t gonna push ya.”

Your breath stops. Like actually stops. Is he joking? You can’t tell. Either way, he’s hardened his exterior and the friendly, intimate vibe that had grown between you has entirely vanished. Tension has taken its place and your fingers begin to pick at the fabric of your dress, pulling the loose string on the left pocket. It’s a nervous habit. One that you should stop but what does it matter now? It’s not like you need the dress anymore.

“Okay,” you say stupidly, not knowing what else to do.

“You’re free to go, darlin. You don’t gotta wait around here if you ain’t interested,” he says.

You awkwardly stumble forward and then twitch before turning around and approaching the door. You squeeze your eyes shut as you walk toward it, wishing more than anything that you could just evaporate into thin air. You reach out for the doorknob, resting your fingers on the cold metal. But your intrusive thoughts get the better of you and you blurt out.

“Are you…mad at me?” you cringe, even as the words escape your lips.

What do you care, anyway? You’ll probably never even see him again. Nevertheless, his eyes rotate up to meet yours and a soft smile spreads across his face. He releases a quiet chuckle and shakes his head.

“No, I ain’t mad. Just…surprised,” he responds.

You stare at each other for a tense moment, your fingers hesitating on the knob before you turn to finally exit the room. Just as you start to push the door open, Elvis stops you.

“I’ll have Jerry give ya his number. In case ya change your mind,” he says.

You glance at him over your shoulder with wide eyes and nod. He’s staring at you, without expression. Well, there is an expression there but you can’t discern exactly what it is.

“Okay,” you repeat that stupid word, vowing to never use it ever again once you step out of the room. You push against the door again but the task that you’ve been sent into the room to accomplish in the first place manages to reemerge into your mind. You spin hesitantly. “You know…I think, uh…”

You lift your eyes to see that his expression has changed. He had turned to fiddle with something but is now glancing at you over his shoulder. The gaze you share is awkwardly stretched across a diagonal plane. His eyebrows are raised in curiosity.

“I think that it would be…that your fans would appreciate if you said something about all of this. The death, the turmoil, the unrest. All of it. I think that if, um…if you said something, from the heart, you know, I think it would…help, maybe. If just a little. I know that it would give me hope.”

“I don’t think it’ll help much. It’s just words.”

“Well I think that…while you can think and talk and stand and walk, you should do it. And do it in a way that helps as many people as possible. While you can dream, you should and your music helps people with their dreams. It sounds silly but…you make their dreams a reality, for a lot of them.”

You stumble through the sentence, all of the advice given to you by both Jerry and Steve completely erased from your brain and replaced with your own jumbled thoughts. Elvis nods his head up and furrows his eyebrows in thought. You offer a small, awkward smile. Your heart is still slamming against your chest as you push yourself out of the room and into the dark, cold hallway.

Immediately, the hair on your arms raises as goosebumps settle on your skin. The temperature change is ridiculously noticeable, almost eerily so. You close the door and collapse against it, sliding down onto the freezing hard floor. You feel like crying, although you’re not exactly sure why. Your entire body is vibrating and tears are threatening to gather and spill from your eyes. You squeeze your lids closed tightly and curl up into yourself, hugging onto your legs and allowing your body to manically rock back and forth for a moment while you calm down. After a few deep breaths, you’re able to lean your head back against the door, eyes still closed, as your heart slows back down to its normal rhythm.

At the sound of a vaguely familiar, raspy voice, you jerk back to attention and peer around the corner to see Elvis’ round manager waddling around the hallway, evidently searching for something. You watch as he disappears down the hall and slowly bring yourself to stand. You have to get out of there.

You curl your arms over your chest as you wander down the dark halls in search of Steve. You have nowhere to go now. No work to return to. An apartment, but one with a roommate who you’d really rather not face right now. No parents to call, no siblings to turn to. Steve is the closest and best option you have right now. You step back the way you think you remember the control room was. You definitely get lost for a few minutes, wandering around like a confused sheep. Finally, after what feels like hours, you see light growing brighter around a corner. You round it and breathe a sigh of relief when you see the familiar room. To your comfort, you also see both your cousin and Bones Howe standing in the room, prepping to leave for the night. You step into the room.

“Hi,” you whisper into the silence.

Steve and Bones both turn at the sound of your voice. Steve offers a sad smile and you return the expression as he approaches you.

“Hey,” he takes ahold of your arm and steers you into the corner as Bones finishes cleaning up the room. “Are you okay? How was it?”

“It was…fine, I guess. I mean, nothing happened, if that’s what you’re asking,” you say, tightening your crossed arms over your chest.

“Oh…good,” Steve responds. “Well, I’m not sure what you said to him but whatever it was, it worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just came out. He wants to do the song,” a small grin spreads across Steve’s handsome features. Your eyebrows raise and you nervously smile, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought of Elvis still lurking below you.

“Oh, great! I’m glad to hear it. Really glad,” you respond, your eyes filling with tears.

You aren’t exactly sure why the sadness is rising so rapidly and powerfully in your chest, but you’re feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion at the moment. Steve obviously notices because his grip tightens and he angles his head to try and catch your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N, is everything okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Your eyes flick up into Steve’s concerned ones and you vehemently shake your head.

“No, no not at all. I just…I’m surprised, that’s all. And um…honestly extremely stressed,” you say.

“What’s wrong?”

You gulp and take a deep breath, trying to subdue your emotions before you continue.

“Steve, I don’t have a job. I hate my apartment. I hate my roommate more and I know that when I go back to tell her I’m unemployed, she’s gonna give me shit about it until I find a new job. But the fact of the matter is that I’m sick and tired of living paycheck to paycheck. I don’t want to work at a diner anymore. I don’t want to work for minimum wage. I want a real job where I do real things and learn real skills. And I…I don’t know where I’m gonna live. I don’t know how I’m gonna live.”

You choke up, the tears blurring your vision. You avert his eyes and sniff frustratedly, angry at yourself for being so vulnerable.

“Woah, woah, slow down. Listen, I don’t want you to worry about any of that. I-” he stops, his eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you and Elvis made some kind of arrangment?”

“No. We didn’t. I backed out.”

“That’s fine. That’s fine. Listen, you don’t need his money. You can work for me here at NBC while you look for another job, a good job. I’ll help you learn some basic skills and maybe I know someone who’s looking to hire. You can stay with me at the apartment for a while. I have an extra bed there, anyway. Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise. Besides, I got a lot of favors to pay back.”

You laugh, sniffing up some snot that’s dangerously close to sliding out of your nose. You reach up to wipe it with your sleeve as Steve smiles and brings you into a hug. You close your eyes, taking in his friendly warmth and squeeze him back to release some stress.

Once he releases you, he smiles and awkwardly looks around for a moment before speaking.

“Well…we sort of need to go record this song with Elvis, but, uh…maybe you could get some rest? There’s an employee break room just down the hall from the recording studio and there’s a couch in there. It’s warm and I can probably dig up some more blankets. Maybe you can just relax and I’ll come find you afterward. That way you don’t have to confront him again.”

“That would…actually be great, Steve. Thanks,” you say quietly as he leans over to grab his jacket and the dress and boots that you’d placed on the table several hours earlier.

With his hand gently on your back, he leads you out of the control room and toward the room he mentioned, which is a few spaces down from the studio. It’s a safe enough distance for you. He leads you inside and rummages around for some blankets as you get settled on the very large, red velvet couch randomly positioned in the middle of the room. He returns with a couple of old and worn-looking blankets.

“I’m good, thanks,” you chuckle, curling up on the soft cushions of the couch.

“Sorry, they’re kind of disgusting,” he replies with a shrug. “Okay, uh. I gotta get going. Will you be okay here?”

“Oh absolutely. This is perfect,” you offer a small smile. Steve returns it even though you can tell he’s extremely tired and stressed himself.

“Great. I’ll come check on you after we’re finished.”

He turns abruptly, rushing out of the room. Just as he swings around the door you yell out.

“Steve!”

He sticks his head back into the room.

“Thanks.”

He just smiles frantically before disappearing behind the door frame. The room is warm but disheveled with things haphazardly tossed everywhere. There’s a fridge in the corner, a microwave on top of a table, and a row of cabinets with a small sink below it. There’s also an incredibly old coffee maker with a few mismatched mugs scattered around it. There are a few chairs splayed around a wooden table in a different corner and a couple of chairs that sort of match the couch. Everything is in muted shades of brown, tan, or orange. The only light in the room shines from a lamp across from you, near the door, which Steve had clicked on when you walked in.

You reach over to inspect the blankets, hoping that one might do, since you are a bit chilly in your short-sleeved dress.

“Still here?”

Your attention is snapped up to see Elvis’ producer, Jerry if you remember correctly, peering into the room at you. You shrug and nod.

“Still here.”

“Do you mind if I…?” he asks, gesturing toward the room. You shake your head.

“No, please. Come in.”

He does so, stepping in a few steps and then pausing to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants. An awkward silence settles between you and you wonder what this could be about.

“So, how did it go?” he asks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You’re getting really tired of people asking you that.

“Um…it didn’t,” you reply with another shrug. “I said no.”

“You did?” Jerry asks, his eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. One of them disappears behind his sandy blonde waves.

“Yep.”

“Wow…”

“What?” you spit, offended by his response. What was that supposed to mean? Did he think you were easy? Is that why he’d picked you to pimp out?

“Oh, nothing. Just surprised. You’re the first one to ever turn him down,” Jerry explains and you gulp.

The first one…? How many have there been? As if he could hear your inner monologue, he continues.

“You’re not the first girl he’s handpicked out of the audience like this. He chooses them every so often.”

Ah, so Elvis had picked you. You suddenly feel extremely secure in your choice. Bad situation. Again, the words float around your brain. Elvis would have used you and then dropped you when he found someone else. You can already feel yourself healing, a smile dangerously close to revealing your relief.

“Oh, I see,” is all you can say.

“Even so, he wanted me to give you this,” Jerry says, handing over a card with his name and number printed on it in a clean serif font.

“I doubt I’ll use it,” you snort. “But thanks.”

“I’m just doing what he told me. It’s none of my business what you decide to do.”

He holds his hand up, backing toward the door.

“But if you change your mind for any reason, you can reach me on that number,” Jerry says and you glance back down at the card as he waltzes through the doorframe. “Oh, and one more thing.”

You glance up at him again.

“Elvis may handpick girls from his audiences but he’s never chased a girl like he has you. You’ve been on his list for a very long time.”

“On his list?” you hiss and snort again. “At the bottom of the list, I’m sure.”

“Try the very top of the list. Like…number one,” Jerry responds completely straight-faced.

Your mouth pops open as he disappears. Your eyes search the room in a panicked shock. How could that be possible? Little old you piqued the interest of Elvis Presley that much? It seems too hard to believe…

All the confidence you’d just wrestled back feels like it’s draining from you as you place the card down by the dress on the table. You glance around for a clock and find one above the door. Three a.m. Jesus Christ. You lay sideways on the cushions and close your eyes, breathing in and out rhythmically and begging for sleep to hit you quickly. As your mind wanders through the events of the day, you find your wish granted.

Not long after, you wake groggily, unsure how much time has passed since you laid down. You gently raise yourself to a seated position and stretch your arms up as you yawn. You hear a crick in your neck and groan, a noise which is quickly cut off as your sleep deprived brain latches onto another sound in the distance.

Someone’s singing. There’s a piano, as well, and as you listen more closely you can tell that it’s Elvis singing. You peer around you, trying to remember where that clock is. When you finally find it, you take in the time. Four-thirty a.m. An hour and a half. That was all you’d slept. But for whatever reason, you feel completely wide awake. You quiet your breath and concentrate, listening for Elvis’ sweet southern voice. You can’t help a smile crossing your face as it enters your ears. Something about it is utterly addicting, charming, enchanting. You feel your body moving before you even have a chance to realize what’s happening. You’re in the hallway, quietly stepping toward the recording studio. His voice grows louder and louder as you can begin to decipher the words he’s singing.

“Deep in my heart there’s a trembling question. Still I am sure that the answer, answer’s gonna come somehow. Out there in the dark, there’s a beckoning candle. And while I can think, while I can talk, while I can stand, while I can walk, while I can dream…”

You stop listening as you press your back against the wall, leaning your head against it. You bite your lip but your smile breaks through anyway, curling your cheeks up into a wide grin. He used your idea. He repeated your words. Your words. You lean your head toward the sound of his voice, closing your eyes to let it touch your soul. The way he’s singing is so different now than it ever has been before. So completely different. It’s like you can feel the words rumbling from his soul and reaching out to pull you into a warm embrace. The raspiness, the deep tone, the way his voice perfectly fits with the tune. It makes the hair on your arms stand up and goosebumps raise on your skin. It’s perfect.

You lean your head off the wall and glance hesitantly into the room. You suddenly need to see his face while he sings, to understand what passion looks like written across his handsome features. You feel drawn to him, intrigued by him, intoxicated by his voice. You peer over the corner of the wall to see him, standing by the piano with his brows furrowed. He’s staring down at a piece of paper with what you assume to be the song lyrics written on it. His hair is disheveled and he runs his fingers through it, bouncing the beautiful black locks. Your eyes run up and down his figure and you can feel our stomach twisting and turning.

When you flick your eyes back up, you jump back into the darkness. He is looking right at you, his bright blue eyes shining in the dim lighting. You release a gasp and then turn, curling your arms over your chest and half-running back to the safety of the employee break room. You burst inside and sit down on the couch to drop your head into your hands.

“What am I doing?” you whisper to yourself. “Get it together. You had your chance and you said no. Because you had to. Because it was the right thing to do. Live with that.”

You heave a deep breath and your eyes land on the card on the table, Jerry’s card. You huff frustratedly and reach out to grab it and shove it into the pocket of the red and orange dress.

As you reach into the pocket of the dress, your eyes squint when your fingers touch something crumbled up in the pocket. It feels like a wrapper or a piece of tissue or something. You fish it out and hold it up to your face, carefully uncrumbling it with your fingers and smoothing it out to read the chicken scratch scribbled on it. It’s a phone number and everything shocks back to you. It’s Trixie’s phone number, the girl you’d been standing next to during the special. You’d forgotten you’d put it back into the pocket of the dress when you took it from Barbara. As you eye the piece of paper, it begins to look more and more convenient and tempting. Your eyes flick up, locating the black telephone hanging on the wall in the corner. You bite the inside of your cheek as you lift it off the receiver.

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autisticstarseed · 7 years ago

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the past few days have literaly made me feel like the super mario headsmash video i just want to sleep but at the same time [ytp ‘WHAT THE FU-BOOM’ sound effect as i blow up my bed]

#neg/ // /#d//on'/t r/e/b//lo/g/#like i cant beleiv e people still try to tell me i cant recognize my mania just bc its atypical and i can hide it well #what is writing scripts in a matter of hours and pitching them to netflix through email #what is fighting your way through ambien to make an abstract painting at 1 am bc you cant bare the thought of sleeping #autism apparently waters a lot of bipolar symptoms down but it deosnt mean its?? not real #those things are just as big of a deal #and my ultra rapid cycling while uncommon is definitely a. thing #like this is the best ive got and it makes perfect sense to me that im not gonna #go clubbing or w/e with no car and no money from being unemployed #severe social anxiety no independancy like an illness cant make money physically manifest and on top of that #if i was manic why would i wanna do something that Wouldnt Make me Happy and Doesnt sound fun like if i #never enjoy clubbing or spending money for that matter bc i have a fear of poverty then why would it even cross my mindddd #unless i suddenly gain the ability to teleport or think itd be fun to steal im leaning towards no that all sounds bad #and bipolar isnt gonna cancel out my whole entire autism #idk how to convey that to people #like for instance my biggest worst Longest manic episode as suggested by my therapist was. when i had a job for 2 months #thats it. i got a job. that was the harmful overacheiving heightened self esteem delusion of grandeur moment was thinking i could have a job #bc with the rest of my illnesses/disabilities i should have known i was not in a state to do that it was uncharacteristic but #oh halloween store sounds fun i love money time to work myself to the point of having partial seizures #i even read an autobiography snipit the other day from someone who had autism and bipolar 1 and they said #making Eye Contact and talking freely was signs of their mania #its different i get it but #like at this point since im letting my psych/therapist call the shots when people give me dirty looks its just invalidating #its a weird hellish combination and its just as confusing for me too tru st me #anyways @ god please let me sleep ik when this blows over im gonna feel like actual human death

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟔)

pt. 15

note: missed u baddies~~~!!! this chapter was so hard to write but i love how it turned out, hope y’all loved it tooooo ♡

playlist *new additions!*

word count: 7.6k

warnings: age gap, smut

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts.

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

- Attachment: 1 image

- BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

You sat up immediately, your stomach twisting nauseatingly as you looked at the image on your phone screen. You blinked a few times, rubbing furiously at your eyes like this was all a bad dream and you’d wake up in a few seconds. Because this couldn’t be happening. There was no way that you were looking at a picture of you and Steve that neither of you had taken, walking out of a restaurant you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of right now. A sense of urgency flooding your veins, you nudged Steve harshly. He shifted in his sleep and put his arms around your waist, unaware of what was going on.

“Steve!” you hissed, your face burning.

He woke up relatively quickly, hearing the seriousness in your tone, sitting up against the pillow and facing you, his brows knitted together, muscles flexing as he supported himself on his arms.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, leaning forward to see what you were showing him on your phone.

You watched his expression change from one of confusion to one of concern as he began to grasp what had happened. But, instead of talking it out with you as you expected, he cursed under his breath and ripped the bed sheets off of him, getting up out of bed. You leaned forward, your naked bottom half getting exposed to the air while he pulled on some clothes and made his way out the door.

“Where’re you going?” you called out after him, and he didn’t even bother to take a look back at you as he marched out of the apartment, muttering,

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone, and now you were alone in this apartment which felt eerily empty without him now, your phone pinging with a new notification every few seconds.

| | |

As expected, the headquarters were abuzz when Steve entered them. He had arrived in a haste, driving stoically on the busy New York streets, his mind racing just like the cars that zoomed past him. The first person to face him once he got inside was Bucky, who just gave Steve a sympathetic look and held the door open for him— Bucky already knew everything, he had figured it out a few weeks ago on his own. You and Steve had already dealt with that hiccup, and you had hoped (perhaps naively) that the situation with Bucky was just a fluke, and that nothing more like that would happen again. But you had been sorely mistaken.

Steve gave Bucky a nod, and they both made their way to the meeting room, where Steve already knew everyone would be waiting for him. Quite immaturely, he rolled his eyes at the fact that everyone was there. This matter was something personal, it had nothing to do with the rest of the Avengers, though technically it did, because Steve’s actions affected the rest of the team and he knew that. But to his own credit, he had just woken up and he was already being bombarded with messages from PR and the rest of the team about this mishap. He had to compose himself before walking in, taking a deep breath and relaxing his clenched jaw.

“Are you insane?” was the first thing Steve heard when he walked in, no doubt coming from Tony.

Steve sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, glaring at Tony,

“Save the berating for later.”

“Were you not thinking? Is this what you were doing during your time off?” Tony continued, his hands up in the air in a questioning motion.

“Listen, Tony. I’m not here to hear what I did wrong. I’m here to solve this issue right now, whatever that means.”

“You’re gonna wanna see this,” Sam said reluctantly, sliding a magazine across the table for Steve to see.

It was one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip magazines, and multiple pictures of Steve and you were highlighted on the front page. Steve prepared for the worst as he read the headlines: “Captain America with Mystery Girl?” and “Who is Captain America’s New Boo?” He opened the magazine to more unsavory headlines, and to his extreme dismay, pictures of you from your personal Instagram highlighted.

He raised his eyebrows as he read: “More on Captain America’s New Girl.” They had found your name, your age, and worst of all, your profession. Steve was seeing red as he forced himself to keep reading the salacious article which made you out to be a deviant with ulterior motives, abusing inaccurate phrases like, “an unemployed college girl turned porn star” and, “the face of Captain America’s midlife crisis!”

Steve’s face burned white hot as he scanned the article, barely even registering the content and instead finding himself growing more and more angered by the inflammatory statements that were being made.

“That’s enough,” Nat finally spoke up, watching the expressions on Steve’s face grow more and more catastrophic.

She snatched the magazine away from Steve and shoved it across the table, folding her arms and glaring down the table at Tony.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He could feel Tony’s angry glare focused on him, while everyone else gazed at him pitifully.

Steve sighed, jerking his shoulder away from Bucky’s touch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his emotions, all he was feeling right now was rage. He was angry at himself, feeling like he somehow let this happen, even though deep down he could hear your voice telling him that he was doing everything right and that it wasn’t his fault. He was angry that now, your privacy and safety were on the line, and people who didn’t know a thing about you were making absurd assumptions about you.

He felt like yelling, punching something, doing anything to let out this anger so he could at least have some sort of vessel for this fury he was feeling. But he stood painstakingly still, trying to hear your voice over all the noise, your voice telling him everything was okay even though right now all signs were saying that everything was not okay.

“You have to deny everything,” Tony sighed after moments of awkward silence. “She’s your assistant and you were undercover acting as boyfriend and girlfriend, something convincing but not as exposing as that. And you’re getting your legal team to sue all these publications for false claims and defamation.”

Steve furrowed his brows, staring at Tony,

“They aren’t false claims.”

Tony shrugged flippantly,

“If you want everyone to think Captain America is sleeping with a porn star, then so be it. But it’s going to cost you if you think for a second I’m gonna let that slide on our team-”

Steve cut him off, losing the calming hum of your voice in his mind in a new wave of anger,

“She’s not a porn star, she’s a college graduate and the owner of an online brand and a sex worker, and that’s more than a lot of people her age can say, so don’t get brave because of these god damn articles, Stark.”

“Listen, Cap,” Tony spat sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit who she is. The point is that in this case, your opinion on her doesn’t matter because everyone else is going to say whatever the fuck they want to say. And that’s bad for you, it’s bad for us, and it’s bad for her, if you care as much as you claim to.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t think about this,” Steve lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “She’s more than just some girl to me. Don’t act like every waking second I didn’t worry that something like this would happen. Like, like I didn’t take every precaution I could, look over my shoulder every five seconds. I’m not as stupid as you want me to be, Stark.”

Of course Steve cared about his team and how this would affect the Avengers, but the last straw was the media coming for you, putting your privacy and your safety at stake. Your job and the details of your job were extremely sensitive, and you were just beginning to make a name for yourself in the real world. Steve honestly felt like this was worse for you than it was for him. He knew he had to take care of this first, for logistical reasons, but when he was done, he’d get right to you as soon as possible.

Tony sighed, softening just a bit.

“Listen. You know what you have to do. After the Accords, this… this isn’t the kind of attention that we need. Regardless of that, we can’t have this. You’re making a statement today, and you know what you have to say. PR’s already contacting the publishers of these bullshit articles. As for your little girlfriend, if we’re not careful, she could be in huge danger. You know the kind of people we deal with, and how fast they would swing at a chance to grab her when they think she’s unprotected. That’s exactly why you need to deny everything, and we’ll do all the damage control possible. Not that there’s even much we can fix at this point.”

Steve glared all around the table, only to see faces of the rest of the members of the team looking up at him expectantly. He needed to explain himself. How’d he even get into this mess, what was he thinking, the usual. And Steve knew that that was his responsibility— as Captain America. As the leader. As a part of the team. Right now, he was just himself. Steve Rogers. And all that Steve Rogers was worried about was you. Regardless of what you said, the fact that you could be in danger scared the shit out of him, and also put him into this almost primitive, dominant mode. He needed to protect you. He didn’t care about reactions and rumors, he needed to make sure you were safe.

“Talk later,” was all Steve said, turning out of the room and ignoring Tony calling his name. When he got into the car he slammed the door shut and began the drive home.

His mind was swarming with thoughts, about what this meant for his team, for his job, all the things he’d left unaddressed in the meeting room. He knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew that’s what you would say, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself off this easily. He was livid about the fact that the magazines and web articles had found you out so quickly and had posted pictures of you, giving away personal information about you and jeopardizing you as if you deserved it at all. So he drove home in a silent, fuming rage.

By the time Steve came home, you, too were beside yourself with anger. You’d seen the posts your friends and family were sending you, and your social media was getting flooded with spam and comments from people who didn’t know the first thing about you. Some were downright cruel, others were oddly interested in this situation that was meant to be private all along. You hadn’t even called your parents yet or explained yourself to anyone, all you did was text them and tell them you’d get back to them later when you figured this all out. The only person you wanted to talk to at this point was Steve, and he wasn’t even there, nor was he answering his phone and you knew he had it on him.

The fact that he had seen the news and just left immediately, not giving you any sort of comfort or advice, not even beginning to work through this together, had you fuming. You knew that just like you, Steve had people to explain himself to and others to reach out to. But as far as you were concerned, you should’ve been the first person he talked to about this— he should’ve worked with you to at least talk about how to fix this before he just marched out the way he did.

You thought you had both worked past his eternal faithfulness to his job and the pressure to be dominant that he felt all the time, felt you had reached the core of the superhuman. But him leaving as promptly as he did only proved you wrong. You didn’t want to go through this alone, you wanted to go through this with him, as it was about the both of you in the first place.

He came in and you looked up from your phone, where you were scrolling worriedly through the trending Twitter hashtag about you and Steve. Everyone was giving their unwarranted opinions, and you honestly worried how this would impact you— tons of information about you had been revealed without your consent, and it did not at all make you look good to the typical eye.

“Where did you go?” you asked him quietly, glaring up at him.

He seemed to sense your anger and sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a resigned manner,

“Headquarters. Had to sort some things out.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here scrolling through pictures of me that are from my fucking cam site? Strangers exchanging information about me on the internet, seeing all this shit about us? And you just— just left? You didn’t even try to talk to me, Steve, honestly, what the fuck?” you snapped, your upper lip curling up angrily.

Steve glided over to you, sitting beside you on the side of the bed and trying to get close to you. He truly felt sorrowful for leaving you alone, he wished you had known how much he wanted to talk to you while he was being berated by Tony. He only wished you had known how little he cared about the logistics because you were on his mind the whole time.

But he knew you were right, he had left without even trying to sort things out with you, left you to handle things on your own without even giving you an inch of support or telling you where he was going and what he planned for when he got back.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, his tone genuine, trying to catch your eye. He finally did, and even though you still glared angrily at him, he grinned at the fact that you were at least looking at him. “I should’ve been here for you, and dealt with all the other logistics later. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, honestly, angel. I didn’t… I didn’t know-”

He didn’t know that your image was being plastered around everywhere, that you were being unpacked by attention-seeking publications. Your safety and your privacy came before the reputation of his team, before all the logistics. That was all he had wanted to protect this entire time. You. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you could see that they were almost glassy, and you shifted from anger to concern quickly.

“Baby,” you cradled your arms around his head, frowning. “No, no, I’m… I’m being stupid, of course you have to handle shit with your job first, I should know that. I just wish we could’ve processed this emotionally first. Instead of separating from each other first thing.”

“No,” Steve said firmly, pulling away from your touch and placing strong, grounding hands on your shoulders. “No, you are completely valid, and you’re right to be angry with me, doll. I should’ve taken a moment. That’s- that’s what we’ve been working on this entire time and you’ve been trying to teach me to step outside of my anxieties and all my duties. And I should’ve been here for you. I didn’t even take the time to comfort you. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, and he pulled you in for a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck.

This was the warmest you’d ever felt with him, just sitting there with him calmly in the midst of all the chaos, finding peace and stillness in each other’s arms. Anywhere else but in each other’s arms felt dangerous and uncertain, and now that you were here together, you were starting to look up. Everything was still shitty, but maybe together, things would feel less shitty.

“Listen, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry for all of this, I know what you’re going to say, but I know that I’m partially responsible. I just wanted to keep you safe, and, fuck.”

You chuckled quietly to yourself, your faces only inches apart when you brought your hands up to cup and graze Steve’s cheeks lovingly,

“You still blame yourself for everything. You can’t control what these fucking publications do. You know that. And selfishly, the risk of getting caught is worth taking, if it means I get to be with you.”

Steve melted into your touch, but still there was that stiff part of him that wanted to blame himself for this mess,

“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one, doll,” he laughed wistfully. “But, you didn’t teach me for naught. Instead of pitying ourselves, we’re gonna work on this, right?”

You nodded with a smile,

“Yes, yes, exactly.”

Steve sighed before continuing, frowning as he remembered the hostile air in the office.

“They told me to deny everything and get my legal team involved, but I…” Steve paused, feeling his anger and defiance resurge.

If they were going to expose you two, then so be it, it was true. If he didn’t tell the truth, if he denied all the “allegations,” he was just letting them win. He was letting them silence him, letting him think he was doing something wrong because he had found you, his happiness. And sure, your relationship was easy to publicize and critique because it was controversial for many obvious reasons— the age difference, the sensitive nature of your jobs.

But Steve didn’t care what they had to say. All he cared was that this didn’t push you apart. And if it meant telling the truth, he’d do that. The bombardment of rumors and questions would pass eventually. Nothing could soil the Avengers for long. If he handled this the way the public expected him to handle it— with some spineless apology or some weak minded statement, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you and Steve were together.

He continued,

“I’m not going to. I’m not denying a thing. I’ll release a statement on my own… I’ll… I’ll tell the truth. I’ll get them to leave you alone and take down whatever they’ve posted about you. I don’t care what they have to say about us. Just… they can’t mess with you.”

Steve’s fists balled up inadvertently in frustration and anger, but he was also feeling a surge of pride, courage. He didn’t have to deal with this the way everyone wanted him to. This was a personal matter, and even though it affected his job and his team, Steve had been through too much in the past few weeks to let the public play him the way they wanted to. There would be drama, and talk, but it would all subside as it always did. He’d always be Captain, and as long as he had a good heart and good intentions, and did his job right, he didn’t give a shit about what strangers had to say about who he was in love with.

You blinked, shocked and puzzled by Steve’s words. This was like a full 180, you weren’t used to Steve rebelling like this. You figured maybe he was just worked up, and you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble. You knew he had his responsibilities, regardless of how you felt. You didn’t expect him to put you above everything, you knew he had to deal with matters like this in a specific way. You tried to calm him down,

“Steve, you’re sweet. But you should go through with what your team wants. I mean, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?”

Steve cocked his head at you,

“And keep doing this in secret? I mean, we can’t keep this up for long, doll, you know that. If I deny it now and the truth somehow comes out, that’d be even worse. I know my team is saying the opposite, but I think this is what’s best. The rumors, the gossip… it’ll come to a stop. What we have is stronger than that.”

You grinned, your eyes glossy,

“I know, but I don’t wanna be the reason you get in trouble.”

Steve inched closer to you and cupped your face firmly with his hands, looking into your eyes,

“You’re not. And you won’t be. Don’t blame yourself for a second. I’m taking care of this, alright? You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. It would be a disservice to the both of us if I didn’t stand up for us. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my job. I was wrong to ever make you feel like that was your responsibility more than it was my own. We’ll be alright.”

Steve was true to his word. As the day progressed and word spread even more, soon enough there was a statement to match the rumors. It wasn’t what the publicists or his fellow Avengers wanted to hear, but it was what he thought was right. And there was no reversing it. Later that day you sat on your laptop, scrolling through the recently updated articles on your situation.

Superhero Captain America, known to those in his personal life as Steve Rogers, admits that he has been in a private relationship for the past few months. Rogers and his team ask that their privacy be maintained and respected despite the shocking, unexpected news. At the time, Rogers and his fellow Avengers will not be taking any further inquiries about the matter, and they are taking this violation of privacy and security very seriously.

You breathed out a sigh of relief as you read the statement, mulling it over a few times in your head. All Steve wanted was to keep you safe and get as much information that had been revealed about you taken down. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to do from here on out— your sensitive profession had been exposed and this was something that would quite likely impact you for the rest of your life.

How could you be expected to be taken seriously to get a career when you had been trashed and defamed on the internet for your job? It seemed that still, no one quite understood sex work and that it was just as legitimate a profession as anything else, and you knew from the start that sex workers were looked down upon. You had done everything right— you used an alias, you didn’t give away personal information. And now, your face was plastered on gossip websites, with links to the very cam site you used.

Needless to say, you were stressed. But, you weren’t panicking. You were processing everything and it was all so overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t being nitpicky about the specifics. You had faith that you would figure this all out, that everything would be back to normal soon. Whatever that meant for your future, you weren’t sure. But you refused to lose hope. Not yet. You’d pick yourself back up from the ground and dust yourself off, just like you’d done so many times before. The difference was that Steve would be there for you every step of the way.

Steve was out again handling important business. He’d talked to you before leaving and you understood that he’d have to be gone for a few hours trying to juggle this insane situation. In the meantime, you decided that since you had time, you’d call back everyone who had been bombarding you with messages and calls. Firstly, you’d call your parents. You dialed your dad’s number and he picked up almost immediately.

You could hear him calling your mother’s name so she could talk to you too, and you heard her scramble up to the phone to talk.

“YN, what the hell is going on?” your mother asked, but she sounded more concerned than upset.

“We’ve been calling all day, we’ve been worried sick. Everyone’s been asking about you and we had no clue what was going on,” your father continued.

You were surprised at their tone. Perhaps ever since your awkward dinner with them where you’d revealed what was likely your biggest secret, there had been a shift. You were surprised when they were so quick to accept you despite being so distant from you your whole life, being the root of your emotional issues. You sighed, rubbing your forehead,

“Look, I know it’s a lot.”

“Are you okay, sweetie? Be honest,” your mother pleaded, and you made a face,

“I’m fine, it’s been a stressful day, but-”

“No, I mean in general. We… we know we haven’t been talking much, but this… this whole thing, it’s-- we’re worried about you. You just go off to New York without saying a thing to anyone? You’re in some secret relationship with a man twice your age?”

You understood their concern, but at the same time, you knew you weren’t being irrational by doing these things. Instead, you were doing what made you happy. This wasn’t a spontaneous, crazy decision. You and Steve were both extremely logical people, and you weren’t unstable just because you did this without anyone knowing. You had your reasons.

“Look, I… this is something I did on my own. I’m an adult and I’m doing what's best for me. And, obviously, there was a reason I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, he’s- he’s not just some random guy. And what we have is… you might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

“I just wish you felt like you could talk to us.”

“Yeah. Me too. Listen, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m fine. I don’t really know what’s next, but I’ll try to keep you updated, alright? Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.”

“What about all those posts about you? The things people are saying, it’s- and your safety! This is serious.”

“Dad, I know. We are working it out, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. I’m probably more worried. But you know what, I knew the risk in coming here, and I knew what I was doing. And I’m still glad I did it. Steve means so much to me, and I’m not gonna let this change that. But all that matters is that I’m okay. I just wanted to call you and tell you that.”

“Well, we’re glad to hear that you’re okay. There’s just so much about you that we’re just now finding out, we have every reason to be worried.”

“Yes, you do, and you’re right. If things were different… well. Anyways. I love you both, I’ll call you later,” you said, hanging up without waiting for them to reply.

At least that was off your plate.

| | |

The next morning, you woke up with Steve by your side, holding you in his arms. Needless to say, yesterday had been incredibly eventful, and by the time Steve got back home, there was nothing left to do except sleep the day off. It seemed as if your troubles were far in the past, considering how quickly everything had been handled. You had to hand it to Steve, he was the one who had to talk to so many people yesterday- legal teams, PR, his team members, just to clear the air. And of course, people were still talking about everything. But the initial shock and widespread reaction from yesterday was already beginning to calm down. It was still a bit dark in the bedroom, and Steve was still asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

You stretched to reach your phone on the side table and started scrolling. There were still articles up and pictures of you up, but Steve was working to wipe those out to protect your privacy. You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly. Even after this was all over, you’d have to figure out what the hell you were going to do. Would you have to stop camming? Would you have to throw away all hopes of any other career as well? This was all on your mind.

Suddenly, Steve’s hand was wrapped around your phone, pulling it out of your grasp. He sighed sleepily, his voice still groggy and deep,

“What’d I tell you about that?”

“I know…” you pouted, turning to face him. His eyes were closed, but you knew he was listening. “Shouldn’t keep looking for updates.”

“Mm,” Steve hummed. “You’ll be alright, YN. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Promise?” you asked.

“I promise.”

That was all the reassurance you needed for now.

Eventually, you both woke up and got ready for the day. You weren’t doing much of anything, since you’d have to stay low for a few days. But it meant you got to be in each other’s company all day, so you weren’t exactly complaining. You were laying in between Steve’s legs on the couch, your head resting on his chest.

Today was supposed to be your last day, but due to recent events, there had been a change in plans. You would probably stay here until this all settled, then go back to Cali and deal with business back home. Luckily for you, your friends were supportive all the way. They were astonished and shocked of course, but incredibly happy for you. They’d be there for you just as much as Steve would.

“You okay, doll?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him.

“Good as I can be. Are you okay?” you asked.

“Better than yesterday,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes glimmering. “My team is still working on taking down any private information about you, by the end of this week, we should be all good-”

“Steve,” you flopped over, straddling his legs now. Instinctively, he reached up to caress your arm and your thigh.

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking up at you.

“What happens after this? I mean, as far as I’m concerned, any hopes of getting a serious job are kind of fucked now.”

“That’s not true,” Steve furrowed his brows, frowning. He didn’t want you to feel like this incident would mess up your whole future.

“Steve, I majored in environmental policy. That’s like, government job type shit. I have to be someone who’s reputable. And I don’t know many people who are looking to hire a porn star sugar baby. I mean, that’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

“But you’re not that. And once we clear up all this, I promise you, no one will think that about you. you’ Besides, Stark Industries is always looking for people like that, you could work for-”

You put your finger to his lips, shaking your head with a small smile,

“Ah ah ah. You know I like to do things myself.”

You didn’t want to just beat around the bush and take the easy way out of all this. You liked knowing that you were accomplishing what you were accomplishing all on your own. If you worked for Steve or his team, it would just feel like giving up.

“I know, and I love that about you. But why make things so hard on yourself?”

You shrugged,

“I don’t see it like that. I see it like… like making my own way. You know? I’d probably be set for life if I worked for Tony Stark. But… I don’t know, it’s just a thing I have. I like to get it myself.”

Steve sighed slowly, shaking his head with a sly smile. His girl, such a go-getter. That aspect of you was honestly a turn-on for him. You didn’t want anyone to be able to say they did something major for you, and even though there were flaws within that ideology, he had to give you credit where credit was due. You were a hard worker. You liked to do things on your own and know that you were where you were because of your own discipline and hard work. Not because your boyfriend had recommended you.

“You are something else,” Steve shook his head.

“Mm hmm,” you grinned knowingly, stretching your hands along his chest.

“Listen, I can’t predict the future. But I will be there for you. And I know how much you like to hustle and do things on your own, but it’s good to accept help sometimes, doll. And I want to help you through this. Don’t think the worst of everything. You’ve always managed, even in the worst of times. This is no different. No job you apply for is going to try to judge you, I can guarantee you that. I’ll make sure of that, no matter how much you try to stop me.”

You scoffed, smirking,

“You’re such a guy.”

“I do it for you.”

Accepting help. Maybe Steve was right. Just because you accepted someone’s help didn’t mean you hadn’t done something on your own. And when it came to something like this, you needed all the help you could get, even if you didn’t want to admit that. It didn’t make you any less of an independent woman.

| | |

You woke up to thousands more follower requests the next day as you ate breakfast sitting at the kitchen counter. Steve was at the stove, finishing up his own plate, and you were chewing your eggs pensively as you scrolled through your Instagram. Ever since the day everything went down, you’d been getting a lot of attention. Most of it was honestly unwanted. Magazines you actually read were DMing you, asking to interview you, wanting the inside scoop on “the life of Captain America’s girlfriend.” You didn’t pay them any mind, because that was attention you didn’t want. You cringed to think of yourself being interviewed by a reporter about personal matters for fifteen minutes of fame.

But the attention wasn’t all bad, and now that you thought about it, maybe your future wouldn’t be so scary. Whether you liked it or not, you were almost like a celebrity now, and celebrities always had their scandals and their speculations, and they still got booked. Maybe this was meant to be, to steer your life in a different direction.

It didn’t seem ideal, and you didn’t even want fame. You certainly didn’t want to be known as “Steve Rogers’ girlfriend.” If you knew one thing, it was that you were going to make a name out of yourself before people tried to make one for you. Now that you were thinking about it, you could honestly seize this opportunity.

Even the sales for your clothing brand had hiked up since that day. People actually took an interest in what you had to offer, and you’d rather they take an interest in that than your personal life. You had no real interest in becoming some mystical figure or some it girl who was on Steve’s arm. You were just a regular, hardworking girl from California, and you wouldn’t lose sight of that. But if this was going to happen, you were going to take advantage of it.

“Steve,” you said his name, and he turned to face you, putting his plate together.

“Yeah?”

“Look at my Instagram,” you pointed your phone screen towards him and he squinted. “All these follower requests. And I keep getting orders, this is insane.”

Steve grinned, beaming. He was glad that something good was coming out of all this for you. He knew you didn’t want or like attention, but this went to show that all eyes on you wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He knew you knew how to flip it and turn it into something beneficial for you. You weren’t the kind of girl to bask in attention just because. You would make something out of this.

“I’m proud, YN, honestly. You know that’s all you, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head,

“Kinda crazy to wrap my head around. I don’t wanna be this sensationalized person or this public figure, but, fuck. This isn’t at all how I imagined my life going. I could make something out of this. It’s such a turn around, but maybe it was supposed to happen.”

“I’m sorry about all this unwanted attention. But if I know you, you’ll make it work.”

It was interesting, this unwanted celebrity. You had to accept that people would start to know you. You could capitalize off this and highlight your brand, make people pay attention to that instead of your private life. You could even put your studies to work and create an environmental company. You wouldn’t just work for Stark Industries, you’d create an industry of your own. Of course, this was all in theory, and you had to gather yourself before you did those things. But the fact that this was possible just because of some unwanted attention reminded you that you could always flip a bad situation into something ten times better.

| | |

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” you were panting heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead as you grasped onto his biceps.

Safe to say, since you were laying low and there wasn’t much to do, this was a very reliable option, every time. Now that the stress of the past few days was winding down, you were finally able to focus on what you had both been neglecting, which was each other’s bodies. Every time Steve was inside you, it was as good as the first time, if not better. You’d been going at it for hours now, partially because Steve didn’t have anything else to do and his endurance was ridiculous. You almost wanted to slap his pretty face for being able to go so long like this, drawing out your pain and your pleasure so effortlessly, only to kiss his cheek afterwards.

“Yes you can, doll, I know you can,” Steve said, not nearly as breathless as you were— it was safe to say sex with Steve was a workout. “Come for me just one more time.”

“Mm,” you whined, lifting yourself up with the help of Steve’s hands clasped beneath your shaking thighs, feeling him shift inside you. You cursed, biting down on your lip and glancing down at where you two met with your brows wrung together.

You were a mess. Both you and Steve had already came multiple times, but Steve wasn’t in a rush. He was honestly handcrafted by the devil. And since you were together, Steve had grown so much more confident. You switched in bed, sometimes you took the lead and sometimes Steve did, and sometimes it wasn’t about who was in the lead. But right now, Steve had you about to beg for mercy.

“Fuck, that looks so good, just watching me stretch you out like that,” Steve groaned, his eyes lowering to watch you slowly drop up and down on his cock, which was coated in your slick arousal. “You like this? Riding me for hours, coming over and over again on my cock?”

You shuddered with an almost humiliating moan, nodding your head because you weren’t able to speak. But Steve wasn’t letting you off that easy. He gripped your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

“Use your words,” he said, nodding slowly and mouthing ‘yes.’

“Yes,” you stuttered out, feeling as Steve pulsed inside of you. You sounded ridiculous, pathetic, and you knew you looked absolutely filthy in the best way possible. You began to ramble. “Yes, yes, I love when you take me like this and— fuck— force me to come for you.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed like he was taking your words into consideration, mulling it over in his mind. “Yeah. You love this. You look so pretty like this.”

Pretty wasn’t the word you’d use to describe it. It was messy. You were practically drooling, and your body felt as exposed as it had ever been. Steve’s own cum from the previous times he came was pouring out of you each time you slid down onto him, and you were incredibly wet still. The sound your bodies made meeting was almost criminal. You were hot and sticky and sweaty and still somehow ridiculously gorgeous to Steve, and you looked even better when he was torturing you with pleasure.

You gasped raggedly when Steve had the audacity to bring his fingers down to your clit, those thick, unforgettable fingers that he used to stretch you out every time before you took his cock, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. Your whole body seemed to shudder, and Steve chuckled lowly, not even trying to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. Oh, you would so be getting him back for this.

“That feel good, doll?”

“Fuck,” you whined, your hand flinging to his wrist to keep his fingers there doing the same motion.

Your body seemed to tighten and coil up, your eyes squeezing shut before you let go, and before you knew it, you were cumming on his cock. Or more like squirting, the way it seemed never ending and made your whole body convulse. Steve groaned as you soaked his torso and his legs, stilling yourself on his length and riding your orgasm out. He must have come inside you a few times while you were squirting. Wet tears, the good, hot kind, were forming down your cheeks as you come for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of a few slow, tantalizing hours.

“There you go, darling, I knew you could do it,” Steve finally pulled out of you, still hard against his stomach. He reached up and wiped the tears off your face. “Now do that again on my face.”

Fuck. You’d get him back another day.

| | |

“Oh fuck, right there,” you sighed in ecstasy.

Steve’s hands were kneading into your back with expertise. He seemed to know just what he was doing, relieving all the tension from your spine and shoulders, and god knows you needed it. It had been about a week since the news came out, and everything seemed much less urgent now.

Reports about you two were dwindling, especially because you had stayed lowkey and didn’t flaunt your relationship about town. But it was almost freeing that you had the liberty to do so now, even if your relationship had been unfairly exposed. At least now, you could go out together without wondering if you’d get caught.

Steve chuckled and finished up, rolling off of you and facing you on the bed, his eyes glittering as he smiled at you.

“You know,” you started, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. “I’m kinda glad this all happened. Is that selfish?”

“No,” Steve grinned, shaking his head and reveling in the touch of your hand on his cheek. He grasped your wrist, gazing into your eyes.

These past few months had been such a whirlwind for the both of you. The both of you were doing things that surprised you, that made you endlessly happy. Steve had never felt more grateful for anything or anyone in his life. You helped him grow, and he did the same for you. He couldn’t see his future without you, and he didn’t even want to imagine it. He knew you were irreplaceable, he knew this was meant to be. Your odd circumstances and the unconventional way you met seemed to emphasize that truth. There was a reason why he had been so blue without you, and there was a reason why he had come back. Deep down, he knew all along that it was worth it, that you were worth it. Nothing else had ever been so clear to him, especially in that moment, gazing into your deep, warm eyes.

His heart blossomed with that irrevocable feeling, and before he could stop himself, the words were bubbling out of his mouth,

“I love you.”

You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second guess yourself before you replied. You knew it all along, it was just a matter of time before one of you actually said it. And now, after you’d been through so much together, after you’d taught each other so much, and healed from so much as a collective, there was no reluctance. You weren’t scared to admit that it was true.

“I love you,” you said, with a soft grin and a dreamy look in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there together, looking at each other and kissing and holding each other, but it was enough time to make you forget the world.

ayeeee!!! as a bonus, i’m including this lil thing i made, it’s supposed to be what i imagine moonrose’s IG to look like! the pictures are not her faceclaims, they’re just black women that i imagine moonrose to look like LMAO but she’s free to look like whatever u want her to ♡ this is her aesthetic!!

ENJOY! new chapter soon hopefully!!!!

tags added later ♡

#the l bomb #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x yn #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fic #smut #captain america #captain america fic #captain america smut #captain america x reader

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #365

“i’m numb to the pleasure, but still feel the pain”

Are there palm trees where you live? No. Do you own any Hello Kitty stuff? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite flavor of ice pop? Blue raspberry. Do you like animal print? What’s your favorite print? Not really. I think animal "print" only really looks nice on, well, animals. Does your dad have any facial hair? Yes. What do you think of foot tattoos? They're not my favorite, but some look nice. I myself wanna get "11121" (a Silent Hill 4 reference) "carved" onto the top of my feet. Do you like bugs or do they scare you? Some do. I've gotten more into them though as my passion for tarantulas expanded to other inverts, like mantises. Ever seen the movie Chernobyl Diaries? If so, did you like it? If not, do you want to see it? I haven't, but I'd be willing to watch it. I find the whole Chernobyl incident to be extremely fascinating, so I'd probably like it. Did your senior class in high school have a class trip? Where did you go? Bitch I wish. :/ Do you have an instagram account? What’s your username? Yeah, two: brittanymphotography and eldritch_obscura. Do you like Gir from Invader Zim? I think he's cute. Do you or would you ever own a gun? Why or why not? No thanks. If I'm not mistaken, I can't legally obtain one anyway because of my suicidal history. I'm fine with having like, pepper spray and a bat handy by the bed, lol. If it was offered for free by a professional, would you get your hair dyed platinum blonde? For FREE? Fuck yeah I'd try it. What do you normally order at Dunkin Donuts? A chocolate frosted donut, and sometimes a plain/cake one. Do you watch football? Favorite teams? No. What about WWE? Favorite wrestler? That's an even bigger no. Funniest thing you’ve ever heard a teacher say? Okay so this is hard to actually explain and it be funny. I had this amazing, kinda charismatically awkward history teacher in high school, and when talking about some legal stuff I can't remember, she deadass quoted "Without Me" by Eminem ("if the FCC won't let me be...") like so casually and everyone fucking died, just from knowing her and her personality. It was just very unexpected. Do you wear a lot of makeup? What do you think of girls who do? No. Girls can wear however much makeup they please. Do you have a savings account? Are you good at saving money? No. I can't really answer the second question because of me never having a steady flow of money. Would you rather have a relationship or casual flings? Relationship, 100%. I would never have a casual fling. Do you know anyone that’s part Native American? Yes. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I remember none of them. Have you ever tried to poison someone? Yikes, no. Have you ever saved anyone from a fire? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I've had sudden spasms, but never a full-on seizure. Have you ever had an out-of-body experience? No. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever had a tooth pulled? No. Have you ever had pneumonia? I have not. Have you ever had tubes put in your ears? Yes, as a baby. Have you ever been shot with an arrow or bullet? Thank god no. Have you ever had kidney stones? No. Have you even been bitten by an venomous animal? No. Have you ever thought about being in the military? Fuck no. I wouldn't qualify, anyway. Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yeah. Have you ever used shrooms or any other hallucinogen? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? I can barely believe my tat appointment is almost here lakjsd;ajwlej;rwe What was the last song you heard? I'm currently listening to Motionless In White's synthwave edit of "Voices" they just put out. I looooove it. What time did you wake up today? Maybe like, 5:20? Is there a vase in the room you’re in? No. Have you recently been insulted? Yes. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? N O P E How many days a week do you work? I'm unemployed. Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Yes. What is your worst relationship quality? I obsess over the person probably leaving, so especially at the beginning, I'm paranoid and distrustful. I want to emphasize that I'm not the asshole that snoops through her partner's phone out of distrust, but still, the fear is just there. What was your most recent serious injury? A serious one? Man idk. I've had a lot or negligible and smaller ones, but a big one... *shrug* What were you most recently happy about? I was happy to see "synthwave" in this video title, haha. Are you a fan of cake? Oh yes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Is your town beautiful? Ew, no. Do you prefer the city or the country? THE COUNTRY. Have you ever witnessed an eclipse? Lots of lunar eclipses. Do you wear lipstick often? No. You’re going on a date with someone you like. What would you like to do? Considering the pandemic, probably just like... grab fast food and sit and eat at a park. That'd be cute. You’re hanging out with your best friend. What would you like to do? It'd be nice to get back to Avatar: The Last Airbender while hanging out with Doris (her beardie that I adore), too. Have you ever written or considered writing a play? No. Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Ha, me. To begin, I like all the "dark" stuff, I'm the unreligious one, the one with political beliefs unlike most of my family, I'm not doing what I should be... Why is your favorite movie your favorite movie? It's just a masterpiece. I love love love animals, African one especially, and I find it to be an amazing story of courage and dedication to family. Plus I shamelessly love all the songs, haha. What’s an odor you hate? GASOLINE. FUCK. What’s a sound you hate? Fingernails on a chalkboard. Or screech-y noises in general. If money was no issue, what would you like to do right now? I was initially gonna say go to Yellowstone, but fuck that hot weather this time of year. So, this brings us back to Venus' terrarium; I'd want to get a new one and better materials. What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I wouldn't say I'm "so good" at it, but I do take pride in my writing. What’s something you’d never ever dare to ask another person? Hm. Under ANY circumstance, I guess "are you pregnant?" There's almost like... no situation where I'd be comfortable asking somebody that. What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? We're not getting into that lmao. Do you know anyone who has a hearing deficit? No. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never stand seeing so many hurt and dying animals and still be okay at the end of the day. Are there any opinions you used to have even a few years ago that you look back on and think, “I can’t believe I ever thought that way”? THERE ARE!!!!!!!!!!! A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The last time you cried, what was wrong? I fell and skinned my knees when stepping over this barrier Mom made to keep the damn dog out of the hallway and thus my room to fuck with the cat and eat his food. I previously twisted my ankle, fell backwards, and had one other accident with it despite moving stuff, and I didn't cry from pain, just massive frustration. I want this dog GONE. Do you like multi-choice tests or tests you have to write out? Multiple choice. Who last called you ‘beautiful’? Couldn't tell ya, bud. Have you ever caught a firefly? Yeah, I did that lots as a kid. Do you own any camouflage? No. What’s the stinkiest pet you’ve ever had? Uhhh I dunno. Have you ever been on the news? For what? No. Have you ever seen one of your friends get arrested? No. Do you put sprinkles on anything? No, I hate sprinkles. How do you like your steak? Medium well. Long hair on guys: yes or no? Yaaaaaaaas. Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? No. When was the last time you started a new medication? It's been a while. What is your favourite type of nut? Cashews, I think. Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? I'm so fuckin basic, like my genuine answer is Domino's lmaooo. Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Yeah, I loved that show. I even had the two video games; I was obsessed with the first one in particular. Do you know anyone who was adopted? Yes. Do your parents’ professions match their college degrees? No. Do you write shopping lists on paper or just remember it in your head? I don't do the shopping, so. But I would definitely need to write it down. Have you ever used a lawnmower? No. Have you ever consumed so much alcohol that you vomited? No. Can you tie balloons? No, actually. My hands are just too shaky. When was the last time you were at a pet store? A few weeks ago when we got rats for Venus. Ugh, it is SO overpriced; they come in a box of two, and as I feed her twice a month, it's honestly quite a bit of money. Like if I remember correctly, it's around $16. FOR TWO. SMALL. RATS. I've recommended we just buy them in bulk NOT from an overpriced chain pet store, but the problem with that is then we have *too* many, and the nutritional value of frozen rats apparently does degrade with time, so I don't want to feed my snake poor food. So it's just an annoying thing we have to do. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not like, an at-home one. I've been tested before surgery, but that was just a safety protocol. Does your ex still think about you? "The" ex, probably not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mom. What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia. Would you go down to see the Titanic if given the chance? Man, that's kinda tempting. Maybe. It'd be super cool. Have you ever seen the Hollywood sign in real life? No. Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they don't live here. Do you type the proper way? Have you ever typed on a manual typewriter? Yes to both. What was your maternal grandmother’s first name? Cecelia. Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''voices'' by motionless in white

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szopenhauer · 4 years ago

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Grossest thing you’ve seen in a bathroom? pee, poop and blood mixed with vomit all over the place Do you consider your family dysfunctional? all families are toxic, more or less Do you hate people who act like everything is fine when its not? I hate those people, they both want you to leave them alone and guess, they’re annoyed with the fact you wanna know as much as you not caring about them, never satisfied, then blame everybody else, how are we supposed to act if we feel you don’t trust us enough to tell the truth? it’s your own fault! we also have problems, not everything’s about you, if you prefer to kill yourself than speak up, that’s your choice but it means you’re a coward, I’m tired of that behavior

Ever had a body piercing ripped out? never had a piercing so I’m lucky not to be bullied this way

Can you sew/croshet/knit? I know basics but I have no patience so it’s not my hobby Do you put the cap back on the toothpaste after using it? of course :o Have you shot off a firework? never, it’s dangerous, I prefer to look and from afar Are you offended when you see women breast feeding? no

Do you hate when people keep things from you? if we’re close then sure Can you multitask? I can XD

*działam na dwa fronty, boobs, albo na tyłach* Are you too sensitive? hypersensitive Who wears the pants in the relationship? who wears the socks and cowboy hat tho?

If you were given three things to make you happy, what would these be? health, money and no worries How would you rank the following in importance: family, career, love life? family and love life then career as I’m not interested in it

Which would you prefer: having a baby without a partner or a partner without a baby? partner without a baby but tbh it would be better to raise a baby without a partner if I decided to have a kid (I don’t want children though) as there wouldn’t be disagreements on how to nor risk of arguments and then divorce in general which would be super hard for the little one

Do you think God is real, and why? sigh...

Do you believe in giving people second chances, and why? rarely as it’s like putting your hand into fire hoping it will be cold this time, people usually change for worse - not better Do you think people fall in love because the right person has arrived, or because the time is right (regardless of whom the person is that they fall in love with)? because of other reasons usually as I wouldn’t call their relationships LOVE, they’re just desperate, scared of being lonely How important is trust in a relationship? I don’t think I can trust someone completely but still it’s very important to me to trust them as much as I am capable to - if I can’t trust them at all then it won’t work How do you feel about infidelity? it makes people feel like they’re not enough and they also get paranoid later, it causes trauma, person who was cheated on will always be afraid to trust another human being in case someone “better” will show up, nobody is perfect but it’s better if you break up than do smth romantic or sexual behind your partner’s back, nobody deserves it, if you can’t be with one person only then either do open relationships or polyamory or just don’t commit to anyone - one night stands or something - infidelity is caused by wanting more and being impulsive, liking adrenaline, risky behavior, you are some sort of an abuser, not just a liar, because you’re hurting someone who’s supposed to be closest to you, intoxication isn’t an excuse, if you can’t keep it in your pants when you’re drunk then don’t drink too much or publicly - simple as that, love is a promise and you’re breaking it for fun, someone said today that it’s like checking if another branch will snap while still holding another - sounds careful but that’s not the point - it’s just that you should sit on it (stability) instead of jumping trees after you already commited to one of them and made a nest on it, you will break all of the branches (other people) and you will end up on the ground anyway - alone, who wants to be with a cheater? honestly - rapist will always stay rapist even if he won’t rape again and so is the cheating person - they might change but fear will always be a part of their partner for sure, dating is like a competition for many, trying until you find the best match, always looking around, never warming up to anyone in case there’s a better opportunity, constant game that make us anxious, showing off you’re the best player among all and... you actually are a player in both of this word’s definitions, sadly What quality in a person do you fall in love with? it’s not a single separate thing but someone whole I believe, I tried to explain that to myself but it’s very hard, there are some traits I might like more, go for, see as necessities but I’m unable to list them for now - maybe later/someday Do you find it difficult to admit that you are wrong, and why? I am - I don’t care about winning, I want truth and justice, I prefer to be right but without admitting I’m wrong that can’t happen Which would you prefer in a romantic partner: a dreamer or an achiever? dreamer, I dislike overly ambitious and workaholic people What do you think are the two things that prevent people from realizing their dreams? money issues and health problems or time

So the world is dying to know the longest you’ve ever been on an airplane. 0 hours

Speaking of airplanes, can you sleep on them easily or no? no idea

So if I were to touch the place you last itched, would it be awkward? sorta

Have you ever come close to drowning? it was close in my opinion

Is the window in this room currently open or closed? closed

Is your phone fully charged right now? it is indeed

If you gave yourself a symbol (ex: star) to represent you, it would be…? not sure

Combine your two favorite animals. What kind of animal do you get? raccoon + elephant?

If I gave you a box of chocolates, which would you hope to get? I prefer something else than a box of chocolates

Have you ever caught your clothes on fire before? omg luckily not

Are you any good at improv? been told

Do you have any special handshakes with friends? I don’t have... friends :x

Are you better at writing fiction or nonfiction? I’m good at both but I prefer fiction

How many times does the letter ’t’ occur in your full name? once

Last song you heard? Crystal Castles - Suffocation Reason you last threw up? meds withdrawal How many pairs of flip flops do you own? zero Do you ever pick up pennies for good luck? I pick up all coins that I find and give them to my dad Something you wear all the time that you’d feel naked without? panties

If you have younger siblings, how old were you when your siblings were born? not applicable Would you ever pick up gum from the ground and eat it? hell no Have you ever gotten stitches? nope

Think back to the last thing you drank. Did you drink it using a straw? I didn’t Is the sun shining? it’s almost midnight Where did you go today? shopping Have you ever taken a survey while under the influence of drugs or alcohol? I don’t drink or take illegal drugs Where will you be in an hour? in my bed Is anyone irritating you? not atm unless I can count myself Have your parents ever threatened to throw your things away because your room was messy? sorta Is your shirt pink? it’s mostly white Are you going to do more surveys? it’s late and I’m commited to finish this one Who is the most complicated person in your life right now? ... me? Have you ever video chatted with someone you met online? yep Are you hungry or thirsty right now? thirsty Do you own a pair of gumboots? eww, gross Have you ever worked somewhere where you had to clean the toilets? I might Do you rate people’s attractiveness on a scale of 1-10? rating 1-10 is very hard for me Is there anything that you could cry about right now? shitload of reasons When was the last time you used Facebook? today like every other day Do you have a PO Box or does your mail get sent straight to your house? our house How many vowels are in your street name? 4 Did you share baths with your siblings/cousins when you were a child? I did not Have you ever been a member of an online dating site? couple Do you know what your neighbours even look like? obvi Do you put ketchup on your fries? yuk

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? uh oh I should check that in my photo album in pics from middle school

Is your dream job attainable? they ain’t

Have you read a newspaper today? we don’t buy/read newspapers

Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? I’m done with school and am unemployed

Have you ever been to a drive-in theatre? no

Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? guitar

Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? camp

Do you live with your parents? still

Are there any embarrassing school pictures of you anywhere in your house? there are

What moment in your life have you been most scared? constantly now last half year

Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? long story

Do you ever make your own surveys, or just take them? I make them but barely ever

Are you more of a phone or a computer person? computer

Do you like to cook, or do you prefer when other people cook for you? prefer them to cook for me

How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? hope that this will happen soon

Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? I need one

Have you ever ripped your pants in public? even recently

Have you ever thought someone was talking to you, but it turned out they were on the phone? Did you play it off? possibly

Do you know anybody that has severe allergies? can we not talk about it?...

Who was the last person you slow danced with? my gf

Do you ever ride the city bus? How much does it cost you? often, nothing as I’m disabled

Do you say ‘like’ a lot? used to

Do you scream out the answers while watching game shows on TV? at times I did

Do you ever go into photobooths? yay!

What bill do you hate paying the most? I’d hate paying rent as it’s idiotically high

What’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? everywhere can be romantic with a right person

What was your first car? none yet

Favorite guilty pleasure? personal

What celeb do you think resembles you best? basing on look? Cole Sprouse or Maisie Williams but with Juno Temple body

Who from high school would you like to run in to? hmm...

Start a new career or relationship? just get a job as I’m taken

Are any of your toes connected? I don’t have webbed toes

What was the last thing you dreamed about? running from the police... w klapkach

What color is your bedroom carpet? no carpet Have you ever had a black and white cat? all black Would you rather have an STD or share a bed with Michael Jackson? life chose for me and honestly this is probably the first time I’m happy about it Do you have any wallpaper in your house? I wish How many pairs of underwear do you own? lots of panties but not enough bras Who was your primary/elemantary school’s most popular girl? E.O. and A.M. Would you like to learn to play the harp? meh Are your feet ticklish? very and I hate that Do you have a black dog? it’s partially black Who has the prettiest toes, that you know of? feet are disgusting What’s your least favorite season? winter

Do you enjoy walks? sure Can you roll your tongue? I can Would you eat a live spider for one million dollars? gimme Would you forgive someone for cheating? hard to tell Have you seen A Clockwork Orange? not interested Do you like to read? occasionally re you a grumpy person? often Do you like cotton candy? never tried and don’t wanna Rap or pop? pop What’s the weirdest flavor of ice cream you’ve tried? rose, amazing! Love or lust? love Do you remember lyrics easily? am I the only one who don’t? :(

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rxsethxrned · 5 years ago

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obligatory end-of-year post

((so everyone’s been making one of these even tho it’s like. around 9 am while I’m typing this. but oh well here we go. this year’s been,,,all over the place? I’ve made new friends and started a blog that means a lot to me, said blog being @infinite-insignia. starting it up was kinda nerve-wracking, but I don’t regret it. even if it has barely over 100 followers after being around for half a year, I just. have fun writing on there and it’s very personal to me for multiple reasons.))

((but this blog in particular is off to a good start, I’d say! I’ve already got around 40-ish followers here, and I only recently started this blog. when was it,,,8 days ago? ye. barely over a week and I’m enjoying this blog. I’ve never really done much in the pokemon rpc even tho I’ve wanted to for a while--but hey I’m here now and it’s wild! seen some crazy dash shenanigans and me writing a more evil version of Rose is just. right up my alley. manipulative asshole characters are some of the most fun to write cause I get to do a lot of angsty shit and I can be evil on main. and idk abt you guys, but that’s cool to me. I’m already semi-evil on main with my other blog (not gonna @ myself again) but now I get to be evil in two rpc’s and it’s great. even if I’ve been spending more time here recently. I’m gonna get to stuff over there as soon as I can, promise!!))

((also, getting pokemon shield at the beginning of this month was a huge good moment for me. I haven’t even gotten bored of the game yet and it’s been almost a month! that’s how you know I like it. a lot. replaying older games and failing at nuzlockes can only keep me entertained for so long. but I have been playing some cool fan games recently, so that keeps me occupied too! I really like Uranium (even tho I haven’t finished it), and I started playing Wack the other day. it’s got thousands of ridiculous pokemon and over 40 types. it’s only like semi-serious cause there’s lots of jokes and memes and potentially offensive stuff but I’ve been enjoying it so far.))

((but uh. happy things aside. I think it’s time to talk abt the elephant in the room,,,aka my grandma and her death the other day. she’s,,,not gonna be here for this next year. it’s stressing me out, so I think transitioning into 2020 is gonna be one of those bittersweet things for me. sweet cause it’s a new year but bitter cause,,,well, cause of this situation. it’s hard for everybody and it sucks. hard to explain all my feelings,,,but basically I miss her a lot and wish she didn’t have to die from stupid cancer. she had cancer in the past and got over it,,,only for a worse version of it to swoop in and take her away from us. it’s unfair and I hate it. but she wouldn’t want us to stay super sad abt it forever,,,so we’re gonna have to try to get over it. somehow.))

((for a new years’ resolution,,,I guess I wanna try and move on from all of this stuff with my grandma dying and all that. I want to see my family get more money too so we can have enough to pay bills and live in the house--our money situation is tough cause my mom’s been unemployed for a while now and can’t find a new job easily. she’s trying tho, but everyone’s stressed now. really, all I wanna do is start the year off as well as we can even with all this going on.))

((anyway,,,you guys don’t have to worry abt my personal/family stuff. just focus on having a good new year, like I’m trying to focus on. I’m looking forward to writing more on both this blog and my other one this year--so ye! happy new year, guys!))

#Out of control {ooc}#News report {update}#long post//#death mention//#basically I'm a bag of mixed emotions #trying to get over things and celebrate the new year #it's not super easy but. I'm trying!!!#and that's all I can really do atm #hope you guys have a good new year #try to start the new decade off right!!#gotta get through the bad times to make it to the good #...wow that's a p deep line there; me.#me @ me: thank

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musicofthenightphantomoftheopera · 7 years ago

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I did it!

alright guys, I finally worked up the courage to do it! I emailed my representative and wrote him a very detailed letter on why repealing net neautrality is a REALLY BAD IDEA. So I’m gonna out the contents of the letter in this post. If you guys wanna use this for your own letters to congress, go ahead. Whatever it takes to save the Internet as we know it! My point is if I can do it, YOU can do it too! So DO IT! Call and write to your reps as many times as you like! We only have a few more days and we only need ONE MORE VOTE! Someone is bound to stand up and be that one more vote. Be the one that convinces them to fight! I beleive in you guys!

here is what I wrote:

I am contacting you regarding your stance on Net Neutrality. I would implore you to save it seeing that we only need one more vote! The internet as we know it is so important to so many people all over the country and is even integral for some people's jobs and lives in general. With Net Neutrality gutted, think of how many people might not be able to pay the extra money to access certain parts of the internet that are essential to their jobs, therefore becoming unemployed. This misfortune wil not stop there though, in case you thought that was the only thing I was afraid of. What about the kids that take college courses on line because they can't afford the real thing? Are they going to have to pay even more for a college education that they could barely afford to begin with? I would certainly hope not! It isn't just a matter of jobs or money either. Its also a violation of 4 human rights; both constitutional and unalienable.With Net Neutrality gone, everything we say, do, hear, read, and see will be controlled by other people who only want us to see what THEY want us to see. Some people use the internet to express themselves, for its the only place they feel safe to do so. Some use the internet to get out word about rallies, peaceful protests, and all sorts of other things. They do this through the use of social media. Things like that, news articles, and even small blogs will be HEAVILY monitore by essentially "shadow people," some posts may get seen and others will vanish into the ether as if they never existed in the first place. This uneccessary, and downright dictatorship-like amount of control is a violation of not one, but TWO constitutional rights and TWO unalienable rights; Freedom of Speech, Freedom of The Press, Freedom of Self Expression, and of course the big one, "Life, Liberty, and The Persuit of Happiness". I will not stand idly by while corrupt people in positions of power take away everyone else's basic human rights just to line their pockets with more money at the expense of everyone else. It makes me sick that Ajit Pai, a man who is already being looked into for reprehensable actions such as Fraud, fabrication of comments supporting the repeal of net neutrality during the public common period (both of which can be tried in a court of law) and rubbing it in everyone's faces that he got away with all of it, got the repeal to even pass in the first place. How a godless human being got in his position of power I, will never know. I hope you would at least hear me out as someone who's family's tax money goes to your paycheck. Just think about it from the people's perspective. If you were in our shoes, would you really want your internet to look almost identical to cable TV? At least on the internet we're all equals. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

-Paiton Pike

#save net neutrality #signal boost #net neutrality #battle for the net #united states #one more vote

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imagining-supernatural · 7 years ago

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Last Call

Summary: You meet up with the Winchesters to catch up on the last few months and meet their newest friend, Castiel. However, Cas isn’t feeling up to socializing. But once you meet his eyes across the bar, you can’t help but go talk to him, hoping to ease some of the pain he keeps harbored inside.

Word Count: 1808

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for @kathaswings 1K celebration challenge. Congrats, Lina! My dialogue prompt was “In his eyes, all the sadness in the world” from Phantom of the Opera, and I don’t know what it is about Cas, but whenever I write for him, I just wanna wrap him up in a dozen blankets, bring him some hot cocoa, and make sure he knows that he’s loved. He just always seems so dang sad and that’s not right. So as soon as I saw this prompt, I knew it was meant for Cas. I mean, have you looked at his eyes?

Version en Español: La Última Oportunidad

“Hola, bitches!” Charlie announced your arrival as she always did. Sam and Dean grinned widely as they stood to hug the both of you. It had been way too long since you’d seen the brothers. There wasn’t a single reason in the world that you should ever go more than a month between Winchester hugs. All of their other wonderful qualities paled in comparison to their hugging skills.

Sam hugged you last, and he tried pulling away after a minute, but you kept your arms tight around him. “Nuh-uh, dude. We’ve got three months’ worth of this to catch up on.”

His chuckle rumbled through his chest and right into your body as he squeezed you closer again. The air behind you moved slightly, then there was another pair of arms around both you and Sam, and Dean’s dry, cool scent joined Sam’s.

“This is what I’m talking about!” Your mumble was barely audible, seeing as how very you were squished between the two.

“No way am I missing out on this.” Charlie wiggled between Dean and you, and the four of you stood in a group hug in the middle of the bar.

A minute later, the hug unraveled and the four of you sat at the table. Dean asked what was new in your lives, so you caught him up on your crazy work schedule, Charlie’s never-ending dating life, and the new dog that your other roommate had adopted. Sam perked up at that last part and you promised to introduce him to the fuzzy, furry hairball of a puppy before they left town.

“So, where’s this friend you wanted to introduce us to?” You asked, sipping on the soda you’d ordered. “The newest member of your super elite Impala Squad?”

“Impala Squad?” Sam choked out, laughing. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

Dean nodded thoughtfully, ignoring his brother. “I like that. The Impala Squad.” He smacked Sam’s shoulder excitedly with the back of his hand. “Dude! We should start a band and name it The Impala Squad!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam sneered jokingly, giving you his best bitch face. “He’s never going to let this go.”

“Really though, where is this new guy?” Charlie redirected the conversation back onto track. “I was excited to meet him. You two made it seem like we’d all be great friends.”

Dean sobered up slightly and glanced over at the bar. “He’s had a rough few days and wasn’t feeling up to socializing.”

“Cas isn’t usually up to socializing anyway,” Sam butts in. “Great guy, but he definitely needs to work on his people skills.”

You follow Dean’s eyes to where a man sits at the end of the bar. A light tan coat was thrown over the back of the barstool and his white shirt was slightly rumbled. Even from this far away, you could see that the deep blue tie he wore loosely around his neck matched his eyes. As you were taking stock of him, he glanced over and caught your gaze for a brief moment. In those few seconds, you could have sworn that you saw straight through to his soul.

“He’s usually a pretty happy dude,” Dean was saying when you came back to yourself.

“Yet in his eyes, all the sadness in the world,” you mumbled, unaware that you were even speaking.

“Huh?”

You turned your attention back to your friends, catching Charlie’s understanding look. You’d watched Phantom of the Opera so many times together, that she immediately knew exactly what you meant. Castiel might be a pretty happy dude most of the time, but there was something in his past that left him a tortured soul.

“I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Y/N,” Dean reached out for you when you stood up, grabbing your hand. “He really has had a bad few days.”

“I know. But Dean, this is what I do. You guys are recruiters who talk college graduates into working for your firm, and I’m a psychologist who talks people into talking who don’t want to talk. And you know what? They usually feel better after talking to me.” You glanced over at Cas again and felt a pull towards him. “Besides, he needs someone to talk to.”

You squeezed Dean’s fingers once and pulled away, walking over to the figure hunched over the bar, nursing his drink.

He caught sight of you coming closer and a slight scowl. “I don’t know what the Winchesters told you, but I don’t really want to meet anyone new tonight.”

So, it wasn’t just socializing tonight, then. There was a hang up on meeting other people. Bringing new people into his life.

“Oh, I know. They told me.” You slid onto the barstool next to him and signaled for the bartender. “Hi, I’d like a virgin strawberry daiquiri for myself, and whatever he wants next.”

“You don’t have to—”

“What do you want, Cas?” You weren’t about to take no for an answer.

He held your eyes for a moment longer before giving in and tapping the rim of his glass. The cute bartender nodded her understanding and set to work. In no time at all, she set your glasses down in front of you and you slid her some cash. “Thank you… sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Chantelle.”

“Thank you, Chantelle,” you said with a genuine smile.

A minute passed in silence before Cas broke it. “Do you always do that? Get people’s names?”

“Yeah.” You kept your answers light and casual, with just the right amount of teasing. “I typically always want to meet new people. But it’s not for everyone,” you shrugged. Cas just grunted and turned back to his drink.

Twisting the barstool around, you watched the few people on the dance floor for a few more minutes, sipping at your drink. Your silence would pull Cas out of his shell. You were sure of it. People who told their friends they didn’t want to talk, typically just didn’t want to talk to them. Complete strangers, however…

“Virgin daiquiri?” He finally asked.

You bit down a grin, glanced at him briefly, then turned your attention back to the dance floor. “Yeah. I’m on call this week.”

“On call? What do you do?”

“I’m a psychologist. If the hospital gets an emergency tonight that requires my special set of skills, I need to be ready to go.”

He nodded lightly. “Does that happen often here?”

“It seems to happen more and more often,” you whisper, a pang of sorrow hitting your heart.

If you one day found yourself out of a job because your services were no longer needed and everyone was mentally, psychologically, and spiritually healthy, you would be the happiest unemployed person ever. Unfortunately, it seemed like your workload just kept building as more and more people needed you.

“That can’t be easy,” he mused.

You downed the last of your drink and shook your head. “It’s not. But you see it too. I mean, you recruit college kids with Sam and Dean. You see the colossal amount of stress they’re under. The impossible standards they’re held to. Of course, you see them at their best when they’re dressed to impress, but I’m sure you can’t miss the agony and loss in their eyes.”

He shook his head in understanding and cast his eyes down to his glass. The eyes that had the same tortured look you had just been describing.

I bet you see that look every time you look in the mirror.

“But you also get to see them grow,” you continued. “You see these young adults, fresh out of college, stumbling along as they try and figure out the real world. You see their triumphs when they figure out the smallest of details. I bet that’s a pretty great job.”

The corner of his lip twitched, nearly a smile. “Yeah. It’s not too bad.”

“I just feel sorry that you have to ruin that great job by traveling around the country with those two idiots over there. I can’t imagine how many times they’ve dragged you into one of their stupid prank wars.”

At that slight ribbing, Cas actually chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You’re telling me. I’ve learned how to sleep with one eye open. Did you know they can pick locks? Nowhere is safe.”

“Back in college, I woke up to my entire room covered in shaving cream. Yeah, I know all about their lock-picking shit.”

Cas took another sip of his drink and looked at you head on. “Does it ever get better? Do they ever let up?”

“Sorry, bud. It only gets worse the more you get to know them. Though, I guess you do get to team up with them every once in a while to prank someone else, but… other than that… I suggest you sleep with both eyes open.”

As the night wore on, Cas’s walls broke down even quicker than you had expected. You went from planning pranks for him to pull on the Winchesters, to talking about work, to talking about his dark past with his family. He loved them so much, but they had impossibly high standards that he couldn’t live up to. That he didn’t want to live up to. He didn’t want to be a cookie cutter Novak. He wanted to be his own person, as well he should be.

“Last call!” Chantelle yelled to the patrons who were still lingering. You looked up in shock, surprised that so much time had passed. Charlie and the Winchesters were gone. Normally they would have told you they were leaving, but a text on your phone alerted you that they hadn’t wanted to interrupt your conversation and risk Cas clamming up again.

“Looks like I’m your ride back to your hotel, Cas.”

He stood on unsteady feet and you helped him into his coat. After thanking Chantelle again, you headed out to your car. Dean texted you the hotel name and Cas’s room number when he left, so you knew exactly where to head. The conversation between you two headed into shallower waters on the drive and, before long, you found yourself in front of his hotel room door.

“You call me if you ever want to talk, kay? Or if you need help dealing with the Winchesters.”

He smiled at you as he pulled out his keycard. “Thank you for tonight, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Cas.” You hesitated only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now go get some sleep so you’re ready to deal with the Winchesters tomorrow. Ten hours in a car with them… I do not envy you at all.”

“Don’t remind me,” he fake-groaned as he opened his door. Just before entering, he looked back at you. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

After the door closed between you, you whispered, “I sure hope so.”

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acidmatze · 7 years ago

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A little side-story? to Stargazers

“This is now the third suicide we have this month. Don't you think there's something suspicious about it?”

“Maybe. Maybe there was some weird movie at the cinema again that sparked them. You know what mayhem the last one caused, right?”

“Ugh, please don't remind me.... Worst ten hour shift of my life”

Two police men were standing in a small one room apartment in the middle of the city.

Ten stories tall. Grey building next to grey building. If someone would die in a neighbouring apartment no one would notice for weeks. Those buildings are completely anonymous.

Ten stories and 30 apartments each.

The police was only alarmed because this time it was a college student who had been reported missing by a professor a few days ago.

The other two victims were an old lady and an unemployed middle aged man.

Not really people who stand out.

One of the police men kicked an empty water bottle away. It rolled against a side table with a soft tunk noise.

“I am used to many things...” he said, “Even suicides. But wouldn't you normally use pills or hang yourself or jump off a building? I have never seen someone using.....”

“Yeah the method is really weird. To be honest, the first time it happened I didn't really bat an eye but this is the third time in a row.”

The first one nodded.

“Suspicious indeed. But right now we can only write down the details and go home... We can't investigate unless we are ordered to.”

A few days later

It had just rang to the beginning of class but the teacher was nowhere to be seen so class 10a did the usual stuff, sitting on their tables and eat, talk and goof off.

Thomas, a tall, kinda stocky guy with bluish black hair pulled his friend Fabian aside.

“Have you heard? There was another suicide. It was a college student”

“Holy shit, are you for real?”

“Yeah, I heard it in the news this morning. Pretty scary, huh?”

Fabian scratched his chin. Stubble. He forgot to shave this morning.

“Not really scary... it was a suicide after all. But it's weird that this is the third one this month.”

A blonde girl dressed in loose skater clothes named Vanessa squeezed herself between the two boys and sat on the table next to them.

“I have heard that they all used the same method to kill themselves!”

“Which one?” the two boys said in unison.

Vanessa crept a bit closer and whispered: “They literally used Mentos and Coke. Their whole stomach exploded.”

“EWWWWW!!!!”

Thomas made barfing noises and Fabian almost fell off the table.

Vanessa starting laughing.

“Yeah that's really weird, right? Who would do that?”

“Someone who must be just as insane as you are!”

The three looked to the left where Mark was sitting. He rested his head on his hand and looked incredibly bored while somehow also managing to look pissed off. It was a very Mark-like look. Almost iconic for him.

He waved his hand around in a nonchalant manner.

“Seriously, do you really believe that garbage the news say? Fits you just fine. I bet you idiots want to go investigating now, huh? Playing detective or some bullshit. If he really killed himself that way he probably wanted to leave a message with this or something.”

Vanessa furrowed her brows.

“Leaving a message would be a thing only a child like you would say.”

Mark dropped his hand and shot a glance at Vanessa.

His right hand grabbed the table and he only barely managed to avoid electrocuting it.

“What the fuck did you say? You wanna fucking fight me? Here? Now?”

“Oh yeah fighting you seems to be a brilliant idea! I am more than ready. I wanted to fight you since I saw your shitty face for the first time back then in 5th grade.”

Now Fabian and Thomas were standing to either her side and tried to hold her back.

Sadly no one tried to hold Mark back. He slammed his chair to the ground while standing up and marched over to the group.

“Now I've had it with you, you shitty snot-faced-”

Someone slammed a book on the teacher's desk.

“I cannot believe that some stupid pop rocks and coke can cause a war in this very classroom.”

Mark stopped dead in his tracks and stared at their teacher, Mrs. Stiles.

“I wasn't... I didn't...”

“Of course you were. Put your hand down and go back to your seat. We will have a word after class. Everyone else, break's over so sit down and get out your books.”

Everyone sat down, undisturbed by Mark's outbreak since this stuff happens almost weekly.

He wants to fight everyone. Seems like all Espers with electro powers have a kinda... prickly temperament.

Mrs. Stiles looked a bit sullen. She sighed.

“Okay, but before we start the lesson I have to tell you something important. You all have heard about the suicides. The Foundation doesn't think that these are just coincidences and that they are caused by an Esper. The Head is already pressuring the police to give us permission to act but so far there was no result. I want you all to be extra careful with who you talk to and who you cross. If you have to leave the campus then always take someone with you. And those who don't live on campus, I want you to go straight to the bus stop after school. No detours through the city or anything. Head straight for the bus and then home.”

“We should do something about it!” yelled a chubby guy with a sidecut.

Mark turned around to him and threw an eraser.

“Idiot! You wanna play hero too? Are you five or something?”

Mrs. Stiles slammed the book down again.

“Seriously Mark if you don't shut up, you can stay after class and clean out all the trash cans on the entire campus. And now open your history books at page 45 and let's talk about the French Revolution.”

#stargazers #my writing #tbh i think my writing is better than my drawings #but i got rusty ugh....#suicide mention

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imaginecredence · 7 years ago

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“I’ll see you again.” (part 35)

Summary: A Credence Barebone imagine (Credence x Reader)

Note: This is the 35th part to this imagine so make sure you check out the others! (Masterlist below) I hope you like and reblog it. There also will most likely be a grammar mistake so bare with me. Anyway… I hope you enjoy!

Date published: June 25, 2017

Warnings: not really any?? Idk…

Year: January- 1927

Part: thirty-five of ?

MASTERLIST

PLAYLIST

___________________

It had been about a week since you and Credence went on your date.

You could tell he was getting really anxious about you being unemployed. But he didn't like to bring it up, because he felt like he was bothering you. And every time he did, you would always brush it off, or change the subject. But today, you had decided to sit him down and tell him the plan.

"Credence?" Your small voice filled the cozy apartment. He looked up from his book, shifting his gaze to you sitting at the kitchen table. "Can you come sit? I wanna talk." You placed your hand over the table, at his place. He nodded, a bit nervously and came over to you.

Credence watched you as you sat with your head bowed, and your hands nervously tugging at each other, in your lap. He waited patiently for you to begin. "My job..." you said, and Credence straightened up, ready to listen. You sighed, "I've been writing to my mother for over a week. I told her that I lost my job." you told him. "The reason why I haven't been looking for a job is because I may already have one." "Really? How?" He asked, curiously. "My dad knows someone who owns a restaurant and they've been looking to hire some people." You said. "That's great!" Credence said, excitedly. Your eyes shifted around; you hadn't looked him in the eye the whole time. "What?" He gazed at you with confusion. "It's in Massachusetts." You blurted out, then sighed. "What?" He whispered. "And Credence, I think this is just the thing we need." You spoke quickly, then you stood up and began to pace back and forth. "We need to grow and I don't think it's possible here." "But... it's New York. It's where you've always wanted to live. And you're finally here, and... you're with me." He whispered, his voice raspy and sad. "I know... but we'll be together in Massachusetts." You told him. "But this is home. This apartment." He murmured. "I-I never want to leave." "I know, Credence. But this apartment... there's been so many bad, dark moments. I just want to get away from it." You leaned against the counter, covering your face with your hands. He watched you, his vision growing blurry with tears.

It was quiet for a while. He couldn't believe this. He never wanted to leave this place. It's where he had healed and where you had fallen in love. "A fresh start will be so good for both of us. We can get a new apartment, maybe even a house-" You were cut off by Credence pushing back his chair and standing up. You stared at his flushed, sad face. "Credence." But he ran up the stairs, feeling his head fog up. You sighed, covering your face again.

After a while of hearing Credence crying softly up in your room, you decided to go check on him. You slowly walked up the steps, to see him sitting on your bed. He held his legs, that were up against his chest, as he cried into his lap. You lightly knocked on the doorway, and he raised his head. You gave him a sad smile and entered the room. He lowered his head again as you walked over to him. "Can I sit?" You asked. He answered by scooting over. He sniffed and lifted his head, as you sat in front of him. "I'm sorry, Credence." You spoke. "Let's talk about this." He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

"I know you'll miss this place. I know it's hard to leave, but I truly believe this is what's best for us." You told him. "We'll have the chance to do more and grow together." Then the silence took over again.

"Please, Credence." You said into the stillness. "From what my mom has told me, it seems like such a great opportunity. The job pays pretty well and Massachusetts isn't as expensive as New York." You said, trying to convince him of all of this. "But it's New York." He sniffled. You sat there thinking for a bit. "Credence, what has New York done for you? It's brought nothing but pain and sadness to you. This is a chance to leave all of that behind. I can't believe you would want to stay here." You said, losing your patience a little. "It's where I met you." He peeped. You raised your head and saw his sorrowful face. "It's where we fell in love." He felt a little embarrassed to confess these things to you. "It's where you’ve helped me." "Those aren't the things we're leaving behind." You implied. "We're leaving the bad things, not the good. We'll take those things with us." You placed your hand on his knee. Raising his head, he looked into your eyes that were filled with reassurance. "I want you to be happy, Credence. I can't say it enough. And I think this will be so good for you, for both of us." You told him. "Do you trust me?" You whispered, the question immediately taking you back to the night when you found him in the alley. He lightly nodded, feeling only a little bit calmer about the whole thing. Your face broke into a smile and you leaned in with your arms stretched out. He placed his hands on your back, burying his face in your shoulder, as you hugged his neck. "We're going to be so happy." You said, into the crook of his neck.

Later that afternoon, you had just gotten back from getting the mail from downstairs. Flipping through the letters, you walked in and closed the door. "Here's one from my mom." You stated. "We'll have some more details." You ripped through the envelope. Credence slowly made his way into the kitchen, nervous to hear what your mother had to say. He watched your face impatiently as you read it to yourself.

"She says, that the owner of the restaurant is interested in hiring me." You spoke, staring at the note in your hands. "She says, he wants to meet me before he makes a decision though." "What does that mean?" He questioned. You looked up at him and went to sit at the kitchen table. He did the same.

"I need to go up to Massachusetts." You said, bluntly. Credence quickly raised his head at your statement. "I have to meet the owner before I can get the job." You said, lifting your eyes to him. "What do you mean?" He spoke softly. "It means I need to go to Massachusetts." "You." He repeated. "Meaning not me?" "Yeah." You whispered. "I would love for you to come, but it's just too expensive right now." He nodded, timidly. You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. "It will only be for a few days." You said. "And it will be good for you to know you can make it without me." "But I don't want to make it without you." "Credence." You sighed. "Please don't make this harder than it already is." "Where will you stay?" He asked quietly. "I'll stay with my parents." You told him. "The town where the restaurant is, is only an hour train ride from their house; another good reason to move." You looked into each other's eyes deeply, many thoughts running through your heads.

"When will you leave?" Credence asked in a timid voice later that night. He had been so quiet since you told him you had to go out of town.

"Hopefully next week." You told him.

You were sitting on the couch feet to feet, reading your books silently.

"Hopefully?" He questioned.

"I just mean, the sooner I get the job the better." You said, looking up from the book in your hand. "Credence, I don't want to leave you. If I couldn't afford for you to come, I would gladly take you with me. But it's too much money that we don't have." You affirmed.

He nodded, looking down.

Then you placed you hand on his knee, looking at him with sadness.

He lifted his gaze to your hand on his knee, then to your eyes.

"You're gonna be fine." You smiled sweetly.

He just lowered his eyes again, not feeling very secure in himself.

Later that night, you were laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling in thought. Credence had insisted on you having the bed tonight. You could never get away with refusing his offer.

You felt so bad for having to leave him, but you also thought this would be really good for him. You hadn't really been away from each other since he's lived with you. This would be a good opportunity to give him some confidence in himself. You also felt like you needed some time with your family, especially after the long few weeks of being so lonely. You were looking forward to getting out of this apartment and out of New York.

To be continued....

PART THIRTY-SIX

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novastarlyght · 7 years ago

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A while ago, you talked about how much you didn't like pmatga's bad future episode (I can relate). Since you're the best at writing headcanons and potential scenarios, what's your take on what would actually happen if betrayus won? (getting everyones bodies back is an obvious first XD)

brUH I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND THE CAN OF WORMS YOU JUST OPENED BECAUSE GOOD GOLLY GOSH WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN

yeah that’s def first although I actually have this whole completely different scenario imagined for what would happen if Betrayus and his army got the repository (hint: it may or may not involve zombie!bets and a zombie apocalypse) but since technically that isn’t related to what you asked I’ll save that for another post. so okay assuming everyone is brought back to life with no issues….

you know how Bets just kinda lazes around in his castle in the Netherworld and doesn’t really do anything so the ghosts just sorta go about their business as normal although occasionally they have to take orders from him? it’s pretty much the same deal once he takes over the living world. Pac-World becomes a dictatorship with a dictator that doesn’t actually do much overall, although a lot of stuff does absolutely change because let’s face it he wouldn’t want to be in charge if he liked how Stratos and rest of the former government did things. he keeps Stratos prisoner and kills everybody else formerly involved in the Pac-World government.

60% of government funds now go to Bets personally to do with whatever the hell he feels like, 30% goes to his military (which he’s still in charge of) and weapons development (which Dr. B is in charge of) and the last 10% goes to whoever sucks up to him enough to earn it. taxes are super high and things like schools and libraries now become privately owned and operated for profit businesses, because Bets’s government doesn’t fund them (again unless they really suck up to him, then he’ll throw them some extra cash). his administration keeps a close eye on citizens but only to make sure no one’s conspiring against him. otherwise everyone’s allowed to do whatever they want, so it’s not exactly one of those BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU dystopias. instead it’s more of a chaotic and brutal society because there’s only two real laws now: 1) Don’t conspire against your Supreme Ruler and 2) Pay your taxes. rebels and cheapskates are sentenced to death and Bets is your judge, jury and executioner.

nothing’s technically a crime unless it’s against Bets and his regime specifically so personal security becomes top priority for any home or business that doesn’t wanna get ransacked to the Netherworld and back; it’s a violent world now and assaults/robberies are extremely commonplace, and that’s probably the worst part of it. however if you were previously homeless, jobless, or just extremely poor before Bets took you may benefit from the change because under his rule no one is unemployed or without a place to live. sure you might be given a crappy job/living space and have to deal with people constantly trying to break in and steal from you, but you’ll still have a stable income and roof over your head since your Supreme Ruler wants everybody doing SOMETHING to contribute to his empire. good old Bets always barking at everyone to quit slacking off while he does nothing but slack off himself.

‘cause yeah aside from commanding his military and just making the rules he barely does anything. everyone is expected to do whatever he asks of them at all times but as long as they do what he says and suck up to him regularly they’re safe… at least from Bets himself and his forces; he ain’t gonna protect you from anybody else. Buttler is basically his 2nd in command and honestly takes a way more active leadership role, taking up whatever (see: actually a lot of) responsibilities Bets doesn’t feel like handling himself.

finally Sir C, Spheria and any/all of the other former Freedom Fighters who survived the uprising are now this secret underground rebel group who aim to free Stratos and restore him to power. they’re the most wanted and hunted people on Pac-World by Bets and his armada (Pac most of all if he’s still alive and with them), but they’re hanging in there, though it’s hard to say for how much longer. the Tree of Life, which is what gave them the edge to win the war the first time, is gone now.

I feel like I should add a drawing or something to this post to make it more interesting than just a gigantic wall of text but I got nothin’ I’m sorry;;;

#pmatga #dipdastardly #asks #texts from last nova #dip-dastardly

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notaroadie · 6 years ago

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Twuesday, the 33rd

Dear 18 year old me,

Happy Birthday and congrats on getting your driver’s license. Don’t worry about stalling the car on the big road three or four times. In a few years time you’ll drive a van with all your belongings from Munich to Berlin and then back in one day and you’ll do just fine. Even though you won’t find the correct switch to switch the light on for a while. It’ll be okay.

I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you. I’m sorry hardly any of the dreams you have will come true. I’m just so sorry.

But let’s talk about today. Your nan will try to buy you as always. She’s hidden money in the bunch of flowers you’ll get. You’ll want to buy a car. You’ll not be allowed to buy one. You’ll buy furniture you’ll hate with it in a year’s time. You’ll never own a car, but that’ll be okay.

You won’t remember much about today. There’ll probably be an argument as always. I know you’re looking forward to your birthday party in your nan’s shed, but your friends will expect you to be their waitress and their present will be a sleeping bag with the tag still on, “wrapped” in a plastic bag. You’ll sit outside a lot whilst your friends get drunk inside. You’ll stop speaking shortly after you’ve moved away. It’ll be your last birthday party.

Now you’re allowed to drink and go out legally, you’ll do that a lot. Enjoy not having hangovers. Enjoy being able to drink Vodka Red Bulls and Bacardi Cherry. You’ll be more sensible later and you’ll never be in danger.

You dream of doing a whole tour one day. Music is your escape. One day you will get to travel around. And not just once.

I know you’re not worried about school. You never were. So don’t panic when a week before your Abitur you realise you need to ace it to get the grade you desire. You will. No one will care. The ceremony will be an annoyance to your family.

Soon you’ll get so stressed and upset about how they treat you, you’ll lose the hearing in your ear. Because you’ve never been looked after well (remember that time you walked to the doctor with a broken ankle?), you’ll be stuck with a tinnitus. You’ll get used to it. Somewhat.

You’ll send off some applications to MTV and the local newspaper, cos you wanna be a journo, and you’ll never hear back. You will eventually become a journo later, so dream about how good it’ll be to write for a living a little longer, until reality hits you in the face.

In a little while you will hear a classmate talk about a course at uni that sounds interesting. You’ll apply. You’ll be accepted. It’s the only uni you apply for properly. She’ll hate you for making her less special. She won’t talk to you much during the entire time at uni. You’ll meet her later, at a gig, where she’s sat behind the guest list desk and you’re on the guest list. You’ll suggest meeting for a coffee. She agrees. You’ll add her on Facebook. She never accepts your request. It’ll be okay.

The day you leave school your German teacher will give you her email and tell you you’re talented and should write for a living. You’ll never write to her. You’ll sadly write less and less. You’ll wish you’d kept it up. You could’ve been so good.

You’ll move out to attend uni when you’re 19. I know it’ll be such a huge relief to you, but I’m sorry it will not get any better. It will get so much worse. Now there’ll be more than two people against you. Your flat mates will make your life hell. You will hide in your room a lot, even lock the door, and become even more of a night owl than you already are. Sometimes you will not get up until 5pm. Some days you will not go to bed until 5am. You’ll spend a lot of time washing your hands at night. Sometimes you will do it for hours. It will get better though, I promise. Sleep will no longer be your enemy. Your hands will stop bleeding.

But you will also start gigging when you’re 19. You will go and see a band you like. It will be great. You will see them a lot. You will still see them when you’re 33.

You will make a friend at uni that you travel with. In a few years time you will spend your first night in Berlin on her sofa. A year later you’ll have lost contact.

You’ll make other friends on tour. You’ll keep in touch with some of them. You’ll lose contact with most of them. You’ll still speak to Sarah when you’re 33. She’ll be your oldest friend. You’ll appreciate her more than ever. You’re scared to piss her off every day.

Uni will go well. You will make friends. They’ll take you for who you are. You’ll hang out sometimes. They’ll notice the cuts and bandages on your left arm when everything else becomes so much you can barely cope. They won’t say a thing. That’ll make you stop.

You’ll get your Bachelor’s Degree. You’ll be excited about it. The first in your family with a degree! You’ll be told it was expected. You don’t celebrate. There’s not a single present.

You’ll apply again. For internships. For jobs. There’ll be no replies. So you continue doing your Master’s. You’ll miss the first 2 weeks cos you’ll be following that band. You’ve taken out a second loan to afford it. But it’s the only time you feel free and something similar to happy.

Uni continues to go well. You continue living in the hellhole flat share cos no one helps you to get out of it. You get interested in mental health and start realising all the things that are wrong with you. You go “home” less often. You no longer have a home. You start spending New Year’s Eve on your own. 2018 will be the 14th on your own in a row. You’ll sob on every single one of them.

You’ll finally speak to people about feeling really depressed. Your course mate will reply with “I think you enjoy being sad.”. You’ll call a clinic. The receptionist will laugh and tell you they’d need to check if your case is interesting enough. You’ll decide to swallow it down and keep a stack of razor blades in case in gets bad again.

You’ll start losing weight. You’ll starve yourself down to a 14. You’ll still be bullied. People still call you fat, and ugly and all sorts of other names. I’m so sorry. You’ve tried so hard. You’ll have gained it all again and more soon. You’ll hate your body as much as you do now. If not more.

You’ll get your Master’s Degree. You’ll celebrate with pizza and wine and some of your classmate friends and one of them will drive everyone home, 7 people in a Golf. It will be a good evening.

You’ll apply for jobs again. Any job will do now. You’ll be unemployed. You’ll have taken out a third loan. You’ll get a job. You’ll move to Munich. You’ll love Munich, but you can’t afford it. You spend the first few weeks in an empty flat, sleeping on an air mattress. Your boss will mock you for it.

A year into your job he will have broken you so much you’ll end in mental health hospital ER on a Sunday morning, sobbing, self harmed. You’ll go back to work on Monday.

By now you’ll hardly go to the place you were born in anymore. The last time you go there will be to attend your nan’s funeral. You won’t feel sad. It will be very weird.

You’ll spend your 27th birthday in Amsterdam. You’ll see that band a day after and when you want to mention it was your birthday, people interrupt you. I know it would’ve meant the world to you. You decide to just not get your hopes up. When you come home, the police will wake you. Your parents have sent them. You’ll stop speaking to your parents. Finally.

You’ll find out about your godfather’s death a few years later through a letter from his life insurance. You’ll wish more than ever before you had an intact family. The very selfish part of you appreciates that you’re not in your overdraft for the first time in years.

Before this all happens, you’ll become unemployed. Again. You’ll use all your savings you have at the time to survive. You will not be able to afford paying rent. You’re so close to becoming homeless. But it will be okay. Even if at some point it doesn’t look like it.

You’ll soon be scared to leave your house. You will speak to your parents one last time when they turn up at your door. They’ll insult you, as always. They will stalk you. You will stop answering the door. You will change your phone number. Remember all the things they said to your face? They’ll write them down in letters. You can’t change that. They’ll tell you you’re an awful human being and an even worse daughter. You know, so you stop reading the letters. You don’t need to be told that. You know.

At some point you’ll not speak to or see anyone in person for 4 months. You’ll survive, somehow.

You’ll find another job after 9 months of unemployment. It’ll be even worse. They’ll make you sign something where you’re immediately fired when you make more than 5 typos a month. They’ll eventually fire you for finding your blog and forcing you into therapy.

It’ll be your second attempt at therapy. The lady will tell you that if you lost weight and wore more make up and your hair open you’d get a boyfriend. She’ll also say she’s surprised you’re still alive. Joke’s on her, because so are you. You never go to see her again. You will not try therapy for a long time. Your OCD will spiral out of control.

I also know you hate your face. I promise I tried to fix that. I will spend 2 grand on trying. You’ll have 4 surgeries, 4 years of braces and procedures and orthodontist visits. I’m so sorry no one will be there to look after you when you come out of your first ever surgery. I’m sorry you will have to get a taxi. I’m sorry you’ll have no visitors at hospital.

But you will have a fixed face. You’ll dare showing your teeth more. Your chin won’t stand out as much. But you will lose the feeling in your lower lip and chin. I hate to tell you, but you’ll still not have kissed. Now you’ll never know what it really feels like.

At some point during that time you’ll flee from Munich. You won’t be able to even afford moving, but your bank person grants you an extra 500€ overdraft. You’ll pack all your things in a van and will drive to Berlin. You’ll spend your last night in Munich on an ex-colleague’s mattress on her living room floor.

You’ll spend the first night in Berlin on your uni friend’s sofa. It’ll be one of the last times you’ll meet.

The first month in Berlin you’ll live off your credit card. Nothing new here. You’ll take out another loan to buy some furniture. You’ll only own a bed, nothing else. You buy a fridge for the very first time. Not storing milk on your balcony in winter will feel like a huge luxury. Having a separate kitchen even more so.

I know you’ve been dreaming of having a small, cool flat, all for your own, with wooden floors and big windows. You’ll have that. Well, the wooden floors. You will still just have one room. I’m sorry I won’t be able to offer you more. You’ll also finally be a journo. You’ll give up being one soon.

But in Berlin you’ll start feeling free again. You’ve not given anyone your address. You can afford to travel a bit more. You’ll still go and see that band. You’ll feel okay for a few weeks.

It won’t last long. I kind of wish you’d known, so you could’ve enjoyed it more. You will get stalked again. You will go to court this time. You’ll get police involved. I know you don’t think so, but you’re so so strong. You will finally be left alone. Even if the police officer doesn’t take you seriously.

But you will also get even more depressed. You’ll get so sick you’ll stop working for a while. Life will almost feel too much.

You will turn 32. You’ll have gotten your hopes up again, about someone acknowledging it. You’ll spend it on your own at the airport, a day after seeing that band. It will be the 14th in a row you’ve gotten your hopes up for nothing.

You will get lonelier than ever. You’ll barely speak to people. You still survive, somehow. You’ll go see a doctor. She’ll be the first who understands. You’ll even try meds. They will help you sleep, until life becomes overwhelming again.

You’ll go on tour. A lot. It will be an adventure. Cherish the good moments, because you will also end up crying in storage rooms. Hotel rooms. Bunks. And lots of other places. Your brain will still not be your friend. You’ll never fully belong. You’re scared you’ve lost the one thing that meant the most to you. That, at times, kept you alive.

You’ll soon realise what you’ve lost. You’ll soon feel like a waste of space even there. I’m sorry you’re not a better person.

Today is your 33th birthday. You’ve cried at midnight. When you wake up, way too early, there will be no presents to unwrap, no cards to open, not a single message to read. You’ll cry for the second time today and it’s not even 7am.

You’ll get doughnuts for your new colleagues. You don’t even like them much, but they can’t notice just yet what a mess you are.

You even made plans. You shouldn’t have. Just because it means something to you doesn’t mean anyone else cares.

Well done for making it this far, girl. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. I’m sorry you’ll be so alone. I’m sorry I’m not better. Or good at all.

But keep fighting, love x

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