#but anyway next week may be our last class on this book and. i have *so* many questions and i *am* going to try asking them

[daughterofhecata]

.

[slowd1ving]

ACT I: FLOURISH ✦ . 　⁺ VIL SCHOENHEIT

Vil Schoenheit and second place aren't supposed to be a thing. He's supposed to be the very embodiment of perfection, so why the hell is someone else's name usurping his crown on the Potions leader board? In which our starring actor cannot quench the flames of academic rivalry and resentment that consume him, nor can he fathom the enigma that you are. gn! scientist! reader warnings: contains nsfw but only later, angst with a happy ending, spoilers for book five, canon-compliant violence

anyways this fic is one of my personal favourites that I've written so please enjoy <3

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

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MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

NEXT PART

Scene I: Overture . 　⁺

It starts on a particularly dull morning. Grey clouds adorn the grey skies; they are utterly devoid of joy and beauty. Rook would see beauty in this lifeless day, but Rook is not there to see it. Vil is. Standing here, in the dull hallway outside the Potionology classroom, is a perfectly miserable way to start off the school day.

Three heartbeats pass before Vil composes himself enough to straighten his posture. Three long heartbeats. Between each thump, he has to remind himself that he’s still the best in the Advanced Potions course. Of course he is. So what is this foreboding that’s chilling him to his very bones? He fights the urge to adjust his tie as he anxiously waits for the rankings of the top students to emerge onto the noticeboard facing him. It’s approximately two minutes before Crewel typically posts the monthly rankings, and ten minutes before he has to face the music by entering the classroom for said course. He’s still got time before hoards of clamorous students charge through the hallways.

One minute. He’s always been on top of this leaderboard, even after being transferred to the course as a freshmen where all his peers were at least a year older. His potions are always textbook perfection. Always. Something’s been weighing on his mind, though. Ever since last week’s assignment to brew a sleeping potion using only five ingredients, he’s had a very uncomfortable feeling that Professor Crewel’s ranking is leaning towards someone else. Even though Vil’s recipe contained some of the most potent ingredients, even though he delivered perfection and potency wrapped in a wax-sealed bottle; it may not have been the star of the show.

A parchment scroll slowly materialises into view behind the thick glass. Vil waits with bated breath; it’s been years since he’s last felt tremors like these. The gnawing feeling in his gut feels horribly similar to the first time he experienced stage fright. It’s unfurling. Whoever made this unveiling spell needed to be fired immediately; the bottom rankings were being revealed first. Vil sighs in relief as he sees his name emblazoned on top in a deep red alongside his markings.

Hold on.

Someone else’s name is slowly scrawling itself onto the parchment. Who the hell- an annoying ringing permeates his ears as he feels his heart miss a beat. He doesn’t know that name, but as his eyes swivel to the house logo proudly emblazoned beside it, he can clearly see the Ramshackle logo. The Prefect? The magicless human? The orientation disruptor? The beast-tamer? That person?

It’s been precisely two months since you arrived, and somehow managed to worm your way into Advanced Potions class, despite not possessing any sort of understanding of magic or potions. That should have been a sign in itself, but Vil dismissed it as nothing more than a fluke. Foolish. You’ve kept your head down, preferring to sit in the back of the lab as Crewel lectured the students, while Vil’s consistently kept to the middle rows. Of course he hasn’t noticed you.

Still, it must be a fluke. It has to be. How could you, someone who’s decidedly without any magic at all, become the proverbial spanner in the works? Distantly, he feels his hands clench into tight fists as he scans the row of marks next to your name. You’ve been consistently scoring just a couple of points below him, although the marks for the first class are subpar, of course. Still, he cannot fathom how you’ve managed to beat his average of 96.

That’s until the final row of marks - for this week’s assignment - slowly unveil themselves. Your score of 100 sits proudly above his meagre 87. Vil feels a vein protrude on his forehead. That’s impossible! It’s unheard of for a student to achieve 100 marks in Crewel’s classes, especially for an exam assignment, and especially in the Advanced Potions course! There’s no way, absolutely no way you of all people managed that! The next person below Vil only managed to scrape a 50, for Sevens’ sake!

Vil feels his breathing become uneven. He can’t even imagine how you could’ve cheated - those assigned flasks were enchanted with every sort of spell imaginable preventing cheating, and each potion had to be brewed somewhere on school grounds, under teacher supervision, within an hour.

The clatter of students is beginning to approach. Breathing heavily, he shoulders the door open, devoid of his usual lustrous grace. He avoids his usual row, choosing to sit on the far back corner of the lab - your row. Surely, there must be some indicator as to how you achieved a perfect result, some lapse in composure that would betray what must doubtlessly be foul play.

There’s only one seat between Vil and your chair. He can feel the lack of distance sharply. The lab isn’t particularly big; it’s never bothered him apart from now. Feverishly, he stares down the door, watching the slow trickle of students enter to distract that gnawing feeling. From the corner, he can see the hallway, as well as whoever chooses to look at the noticeboard. It’s agonising, waiting for you to walk in so he can observe you.

When you finally decide to show up, you’re in class around a minute later than Crewel and the previous student. Vil can tell by the direction of your body and feet that you haven’t yet seen the rankings. He’s not sure you know they even exist. He can feel his blood starting to boil slowly, which is only heightened when Crewel points his riding crop at you. Your surprise is apparent by the way your feet stutter to a sharp halt.

“Listen up, whelps!” his voice resounds throughout the lab. “I’m sure most of you have seen the rankings for this month that were posted this morning! As usual, most of your scores were abysmal for the final assignment, though this promising pup managed to get full marks-” here he gestures to you with approval. Vil doesn’t miss the way your brows furrow, then a small smile blooms on your face as you look down at your shoes. “-on an assignment that would likely even trouble my fourth years. Next week, we will go over why your attempts were so laughably mediocre, and I will personally make sure that lesson is drilled into each and every one of you pups.”

Crewel’s piercing glare marches itself around the room. Vil can see your shoulders slump in relief as Crewel strides behind his desk and you are free to make your way to the back. Your gaze is trained straight on your seat. Vil leans on his forearms to observe the other students; a few look back at you with congratulatory smiles, which you return. You don’t seem to have noticed your new neighbour. He feels his eye almost twitch. How dare you? You don’t even realise the full gravitas of this situation! Not only did you dismiss the noticeboard, you don’t even seem to be affected by the knowledge that you got full marks! Not to mention you haven’t even looked at him once! Is it ignorance, or a blatant smugness? Vil almost begins chewing his pen in anger before stopping himself.

The rest of the lecture goes by agonisingly slowly. Today isn’t a lab practical day, so Vil hasn’t got a chance to observe just how you’ve managed to secure that top rank. Instead, he alternates between taking notes and watching you watching Crewel and taking your own notes, which seem to be interspersed with pointless little doodles in the margins of your notepad. It’s infuriating.

He’s worked hard; he’s worked himself to the very bone to be the Fairest One. Yet that title was snatched away by some wimp resting on his laurels and looks to snag the roles that Vil yearned for. Now it’s happening all over again. Something within him is twisting, churning, grating his insides and self-control into a bloody pulp. The title of number one in the Potionology department is something he could finally call his own. Something that couldn’t be snatched away by someone’s looks or charm or mere luck. It was a way to prove himself to his dorm. It was a way to finally be held above all others for something you could very well work hard for. It proved his diligence.

So why? Why was this newly sprouted tuber next to him number one? Why the hell weren’t you taking any of this seriously? He seethes. It’s unbelievable. When he surreptitiously glances at your notes, they’re written in a language that he can’t even make sense of. They’re a far cry from the runes of Twisted Wonderland, and even with his studies on linguistics he can’t figure the twisted squiggles out.

“It’s the Latin alphabet,” your voice is suddenly in his ear, and he wishes for nothing more than to explode on the spot. His eyes flicker between your notepad and your face, which sports a tired smile. You’ve clearly misinterpreted the furrow of his brows as a question, because you continue.

“I can barely make sense of the runes here,” you twirl your pen between your fingers. Your other hand props up your chin as you tilt your face towards Crewel’s general direction, but your eyes linger on his. “So I use the language from my world.”

“I see,” Vil’s curt response doesn’t even make you bat an eye; instead, you turn to face Crewel again as if you had never spoken in the first place. This revelation from you is useless information to him, but if he continues talking to you he may be able to glean more information about your supposed genius.

Towards the end of the lecture, you pause in packing up and swivel towards Vil. He masks his startled expression within a millisecond, luckily.

“I never got round to asking your name,” you smiled sheepishly, scratching your neck with the back of your pen. “I think I saw you at orientation?”

That’s it. Vil feels his self-control splinter.

“Vil Schoenheit,” he says coldly. “You would do well to remember it, tuber potato.”

Your expression is nothing short of bewilderment as you toss your pen in your bag, but ultimately you don’t say anything after you nod. Vil feels a swell of the same ugly, twisted emotion that rears its head at the mention of Neige LeBlanche.

As you leave the room, Vil is left watching your back as the bell rings.

Scene II: Interlude . 　⁺

“Bonjour, Roi des Poisons,” Rook’s sharp gaze misses nothing as Vil feels those eyes observing his countenance. Vil elects to be silent, sipping on the fragrant lavender tea. The Pomefiore lounge never fails to ease his mind with its deep blue tones, fit for the Fairest Queen herself, but it cannot help his turbulent thoughts.

“Who is the lucky one who has cracked that beautiful mask of yours?” Rook’s voice is beginning to sound rather jarring after today’s fiasco earlier.

“I can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” Vil’s stiff words are forcibly turned casual as they leave his mouth.

“Tu me mens,” Rook drapes himself over the armchair Vil sits in, taking off his hat in a sweeping motion. “It breaks my heart, hearing sadness in that beautiful voice of yours. Tell me, who is the cause of this pain?”

“Rook,” Vil turns to him contemplatively, observing how Rook’s present grin is all teeth and sharp edges. “The Prefect of Ramshackle has piqued my interest.”

He didn’t mean to admit it, but the truth escaped his lips before he had a chance to think it through. Vil sighs, shutting his eyes and placing his teacup back into its saucer. It’s been a stressful day, one that can’t be amended with just a simple cup of tea.

“How very beautiful,” Rook comments, rising from his draped position. “I will take my leave, mon Roi.”

Vil has no doubt that Rook’s interest will also be spiked by you. He just hopes he gets some worthwhile intel about you in the process.

Scene III: The Hunter . 　⁺

“Félicitations,” a very familiar voice cuts through the tranquillity of the Botanical Gardens. Vil tenses up from where he was crouched harvesting the flowers of a particularly potent species typically used in aromatherapy. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on Rook, but as fate would have it, your voice responds to the hunter.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” your tone is quizzical; by the rustling, Vil gathers that you’re likely here for the bounty of flora available in the Garden. Judging by the volume, you and Rook are probably three or four metres around the bush he’s facing.

“Of course, pardon my impertinence. Je suis Rook Hunt. I was simply admiring your beauty, when I realised you’re the one I’ve heard so much about,” Rook’s voice is sincere in his flattery, but Vil almost screams at his forwardness.

“What’s been said about me?” a shift is heard in cloth. No doubt you’re rocking on your feet, either in curiosity or nervousness, Vil can’t tell.

“Your scientific prowess has been held in very high esteem amongst my peers,” Rook murmurs; Vil can imagine those green eyes staring into yours at that moment and fights the urge to shudder at his audacious nature. Seems like Rook’s already cut straight to the heart of things. “I cannot help but be curious about what you plan to do with those sprigs of Somniablossoms, les fleurs des rêves.”

“Just some analysis,” your tone turned to that of academic fervour, one that resonated with Vil. “I’ve noticed that a lot of the elements present in this world match the properties of the ones back in mine - meaning that this place is likely in a shared universe. I’m trying to examine some of the flora here to see if the subcellular structures of plants here differ in any way from the ones back home. Then I’ll extract and purify the oil from these sprigs for further use, and use the flowers to see if they’d work as indicators.”

Your rambling catches Vil off-guard. He hadn’t expected you to be passionate about science outside the classroom; he judged by your attitude in Crewel’s classroom that it was more of a one and done occurrence of genius.

“Incroyable. Your mind captivates me. It seems we share the same love of science,” Rook’s own scientific fervour is clearly audible in his voice. Vil feels sickened by this sudden closeness between the two of you. He can’t turn away from the conversation, listening while he holds his breath.

“Yeah,” your tone is once again sheepish, drawing the ‘e’ vowel out ever so slightly. “I can’t read the runes here all that fluently, so it’s up to me to conduct my own research instead of relying too much on textbooks.”

“What tenacity! I would love to see your workspace someday,” Rook praises. It’s too much for Vil; he can’t listen any more without feeling that ugly monster within rear its head. “I’m sure it’s as captivating as that wonderful brain.”

Rook’s sweet talk fades out as Vil quietly slips away. He’s got no doubt that Rook sniffed his presence out; he only hopes you were too preoccupied by the vice Housewarden to notice him as well.

He massages his temples as he walks into the secluded corner of the Pomefiore lounge, seeking out his favourite armchair. It’s thankfully empty, as he’s one of the only ones with a free period at this time. Now he’s got time to think. All these negative feelings were going to damage his health, and he couldn’t afford to lose sleep over this. Not with the SDC a mere three months away.

No, he should treat this as a challenge. You proved yourself to be a worthy opponent with clear wit, something you had clearly worked for. To win against you… to win against you would be a more worthwhile endeavour than winning against that bumbling Neige. You would not take his title away from him. At long last, here was something that he could work hard for instead of it being taken away by something out of his control.

Was that what this was about? Control? After being overlooked for everything, left to play the villain, surely he could achieve this, at least?

“Roi des Poisons, I hope you were adequately amused,” Rook’s sudden appearance almost started Vil from his musings. Almost.

“Quite,” Vil responded, staring out of the window at the blue sky and beyond.

[spidrstar]

A LITTLE BIT MORE

★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader

★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?

★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.

★ w/c: 2k

★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏

“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”

You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.

For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.

You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)

“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.

“Can we please just take a small break?”

“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”

“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”

He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..

“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”

“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.

Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.

He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.

“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.

You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”

Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.

“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”

You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.

“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.

He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.

“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.

You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..

You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.

“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.

“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”

You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.

“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.

“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.

You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”

Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.

“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”

“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“

You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.

“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.

“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.

“Yes you will! I know you!”

“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.

You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.

“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.

“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.

“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.

All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.

“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”

Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.

“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”

“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”

You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.

“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.

“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.

Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.

“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.

“Yes?”

“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.

“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.

“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.

A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;

‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’

‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’

‘What if he thought I was weird?’

‘What if he hates me now?’

Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.

He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.

“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”

You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.

“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.

With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.

Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.

The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.

He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.

“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.

★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||

TAGS:

[aliypop]

Anyway You Want Me: Chapter 1

(Rewrite)

Word Count: 3,015

Writers Note: I abandoned this fic, but I'm rewriting it now that I've expanded on Cecelia and Elvis, This is an au idea as stated last time! Well let us try this again

Warning: None so far except for language and historic language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: In 1953, in Memphis Tennessee, Cecelia and her mother Denise Valmos move to Shelby County as Her mother Calpurnia's Nashville home is going through renovations, but when asked to keep a low profile by her mother, Cecelia makes friends with the quirkiest, shy, yet charming kid in class, at least Friends is what she'd call them.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

Memphis May 1953

The spring winds of Memphis blew as a pink Chevrolet Bel Air was parked in the parking lot of Humes High School. A place where this one particular student knew she wouldn't belong. Getting her books from the back seat, she dusted off her skirt, looked at her watch, and took a deep breath. Until she realized she was almost late for her first day of school, and she couldn't be late, at least not as the new kid in town!

 The hustle and bustle of everyone was different from when she lived in Georgia, where everything was a bit slow-paced. And with a mix of a few faces that looked like hers. But here it seemed she was the only face that. Well, looked like hers, and the glares she was getting had explained that very clearly. Her saddle shoes kept walking down the hallway until she finally found her homeroom. The glares and stares were harsh, but she continued inside until all eyes were on her. Whispers all around the classroom, some of the students pointing and laughing at her, 

"I think she got on the wrong bus..." 

                 "Whys her hair all like that?"

"Must have stolen that dress..." 

"Class..."

"Class..."

"CLASS!" The room was silent, 

"Class, I want everyone to meet Cecelia Shanel Valmos. She's our new student, Welcome..." 

"Thank you. You know a fun fact about myself is I like comics and-"

"Now attendance." 

Cecelia sat in the back of the Class, where a few students had glanced at her as if she carried the fleas. It was starting to get as bad as when they had driven here to Memphis.

 Tapping her fingers, Cecelia could tell this would be a stressful time. And she couldn't wait to move to Nashville with her glammy, her grandmother.

As the bell rang, Cecelia went to her arithmetic class. Her least favorite subject. But very well needed. At least, it was what Midge told her, looking over the checks she'd signed for Valmos Music and Sound. Taking her seat in the back, Cecelia had begun to read her Batman comic book. Other students filled the room, talking and chattering as she flipped the page on the Joker's crazy antics. 

"You're late..."

"S-S-Sorry, I ain't mean to be late, I just..."

" Lost track of time, Mr. Presley." The teacher sighed, following his gaze as his eyes landed on the tawny-skinned girl with dark brown hair curled up in a tall style. 

"Take your seat, Mr. Presley..."

Sitting next to Cecelia was a kid who had to be about her age. She couldn't tell, and she didn't want to ask. She figured, at this point, her breathing would cause a problem. But something about him was different, after all. He had blondish brown hair and fading black roots. And he smelled like shoe polish. He also had rolled-up jeans and loafers with pink socks, the same color as hers. 

"Is that the 3-D edition..."

"Yeah, it is..." Cecelia kept reading,

"I-I've been tryin to find that one for weeks." 

"Found it at a comic shop in Chattanooga." she huffed. She wasn't annoyed that he was talking to her, just while she was reading her comics. 

"Am I botherin you, doll..."

"A little, and I'm not your-" Cecelia looked up, seeing eyes bluer than James Dean's and a cute but crooked smile that seemed so shy yet so sweet.

"Are you okay? You're starin'?"

 "Sorry, I'm new here, and it's stressful, and I don't have any friends and-" 

"Mind if I be your friend..."

"I wouldn't mind that at all ah..."

"Elvis Presley... But u-uh, most everyone calls me, well no one calls me anything cept for Red West, who calls me E..."

"Well, I'll call you Pres." She smiled, "I'm Cecelia Valmos, by the way." she winked at him as he blushed a little, 

"I'll call you Cece..." he tried to wink back at her, but his hair got in his eyes. Cecelia giggled a bit, "I like it." she grinned. Elvis could feel his heart beat faster, trying to push the emotions aside as he looked into her hazel eyes. Finally, he might not have been so alone in the world. 

"So, favorite superhero..."

"Easy, Jay Garrick," she smirked, "What about you?"

"Captain Marvel Jr." he grinned, "Sometimes I imagine myself as him."

"Flying to the rock of eternity ..." Cecelia smiled back at him,

"Yeah."

"I used to think I was the Flash until I bumped into a wall." she snorted a bit when she laughed, and she could hear the teacher clearing her throat. Cecelia mouthed sorry as she went back to take her notes. 

"Do you understand any of that..."

"Nope..." Cecelia laughed, "But I do know. That, that answer should be 35." Elvis laughed as he changed it,

"You're a lifesaver." He blushed, his accent thick, but Cecelia found it cute, 

The bell rang again as they got up and went to their next class. Elvis and Cecelia were walking side by side, still talking. It was beginning to feel like she had known this kid since childhood, which was nicer than what she had been recently feeling.

"I love the color pink. " Elvis smiled,

"My car is pink!"

"No way!"

"It's a Bel Air." she winked, 

" You're too cool for me, Cece." He joked as Cecelia nudged him, 

"Honestly, I'm just me." she shrugged,

"Again, too cool for me, "He nudged her back as she laughed with him. 

"Say, would you care to eat lunch with me?

"Yeah, sure, I ain't got much but-"

"You can have some of my lunch." 

"Cece, I couldn't."

"I usually don't eat it all." 

"You sure?"

"Positive." 

Sitting alone at the table was Cecelia and Elvis, who were enjoying their lunch together. It was nice to know that he wasn't afraid to go against the normal and politically correct, but instead eat with someone who wouldn't bully him.

"So, how was your first day here so far."

"Eh, crappy..." she sighed, 

"The bullies stop eventually." He sighed as Cecelia looked over at him,

"Easy for you to say, I got called a teacher's pet 'cause I knew all the answers in my history class... Not my fault some of us read for fun." she mumbled to herself, "Or in my typing class, I typed over several words a minute. And yet I'm wrong... Well, excuse me for writing songs when I'm bored!" she began to get angry as Elvis looked at her. 

"At least you've passed your typing lessons on the first day." He joked, "I got a C in that, which ain't bad..."

"But it's not good, Pres." she looked at him. 

"Well, maybe you could tutor me." 

"To type? Sure." she smiled, splitting her candy bar with him. The two cheered each other with their Pepsi-Cola bottles.  

When the day was over, Cecelia went to her car as she saw Elvis walk to his car,

 "Nice 41 Lincoln!" she waved as she was next to her pink beauty. It suited her well. He thought to himself as she got in, 

"See you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah!"

Dinner was on the table, and Cecelia was doing her homework as her mother was on the phone with the electric company. This move was a headache, especially with her mother having an album on the way and getting settled into a temporary house and Cecelia adjusting to her new school for only a month. It could drive a single mother completely insane. 

"Guess what! I made a friend today, and he's really nice and-"

"Cecelia, I'm on hold with the heating and air..." 

"Right..." She continued to do her homework. She knew things were going to be different. They always had been since her father left, and her mother devoted her life to her music. And her half of the label and studio. Cecelia = sighed as she blushed, thinking about Elvis and his eyes and how she couldn't wait to see him again. 

"Mama!" Elvis nearly ran into his family apartment like a whirlwind. It had been a while since Gladys had seen him so happy after school, like a puppy waiting for a treat. 

"Elvis!"

"Pa! You'll never believe what I made in school today." he grinned as Vernon was about to guess. "A friend. Well, I think she's a friend. We shared a sandwich together, and I think she's giving me one of her comics to read-" 

Gladys chuckled. Vernon perked up. Some special girl, if he was going on and on about her like this, the last girl he did that with was Dixie, or was it another girl?. Meanwhile, to Gladys, it sounded like he had a crush on this mystery schoolgirl. 

"So I assume you'll be staying up in class more."Gladys scolded him playfully.

"And paying attention." Vernon glanced at him as Elvis blushed and nodded, 

"Of course." He rubbed the back of his head, Gladys laughing as Vernon shook his head.

The next day, all the students were back in homeroom, and Cecelia was in the back, dreaming away about her new friend and what they'd talk about that day. Would it be comics or music? Maybe books? Or after-graduation goals? But those thoughts were crushed until a group of girls came behind her and pulled her hair. Cecelia only sighed as she tried to ignore them. It wasn't like she didn't get a note in her locker that said Stay away. Well, words she'd rather not repeat. Yes, this would be a tough couple of months. She just had to make it to, 

"Oh No..." 

Her eyes caught on to several kids running with scissors in their hands. 

"Come here, fairy!" one kid shouted,

"Long-haired freak!"

"Oh, please don't let it be..."

"PRES!" Cecelia shouted, standing up, eyes on her as she grabbed her books, "Ent and I have to go use the girl's room... really, uh, quickly." storming out of the classroom, Cecelia quickly tried to follow the rest of the kids. They had Elvis cornered, with no room to escape, and there was fear in his eyes as if he'd been on death row. 

"Maybe we'll cut off those flashy clothes next." It was no secret Elvis craved the fashion of Beale Street, but it wasn't a secret that everyone else at his school hated it, let alone hated him. He could feel the blades get close to his hair, and he closed his eyes and prayed until he heard a voice say. 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" 

Elvis looked at the crowd as he saw Red West behind him and Cecelia beside him. 

"Or what!"

"You'll answer to my fist..." Cecelia glared at one of the boys. What was she thinking was the main thing Red and Elvis were thinking. 

"Your fist aint gonna do nothing cause you're just a nig-"

POW!

The students scurried, dropping everything they had to torture Elvis. Shaking her wrist, she looked back at the two guys and sighed. She probably made it worse, and the principal would call her mother, and then there'd be a commotion about it all. 

"Where'd you learn to throw a punch like that."

"My mother taught me." Cecelia shrugged, looking at Red,

"Some mother..." Red nodded until they both saw Elvis shaking like a leaf. 

"El!" Cecelia ran over, "Are you okay? Do you need to go home? Do you wanna stay at my home..." she offered, but Elvis stood up, shook it off, and tried to laugh even though he wanted to cry and scream and yell,

 "Cece, Red, I'm fine..." 

"E, yer tremblin." 

"Like a leaf, Pres..."

"I SAID I'M FINE!" He shouted. He didn't mean to. He was having a rough day and an anxiety attack.

 Cecelia approached him, "We're just worried, is all..."

"At least let us walk you to class." Red offered as Elvis nodded. Cecelia's hand brushed against his. He blushed a little. Was Cecelia flirting with him?

"So then Superman catches him in the water!" Cecelia said as the three were walking down the hallway,

"You're spoilin' it, Cece." Elvis groaned, 

"Well, I have a TV in my room. If y'all ever wanna come by and watch it." her southern accent escaped her as Elvis had a slightly brighter blush on his cheeks. 

"Or we could go to the drive-in!" Cecelia then said as Elvis's eyes wide. He's only been a third wheel to the drive-in, mooching off his friend's french fries and whatnot. And if he did bring a girl. Then he was either making out with her, or he was super into the movie.

"I think I'd leave that up to you two," Red said as Elvis had short-circuited. Walking to their English Class, Elvis had taken in the charm of Cecelia. She was a big ball of mystery who was protective, loyal, and stood up for him after only knowing him for a day. Cecelia was kind enough to share her sandwich with him. And she was pretty to look at in her pink gingham dress. But this wasn't how you thought about a friend. Besides, he was Elvis, the weird kid with a guitar and his head in the clouds, dreaming.

"Since it's Friday, what'cha got planned for the weekend?" 

"Well, work, but I'm off at 3 p.m."

"Well, I'm still new in town, so... maybe you could show me around Beale Street or comic shops you like to go to. Or record stores." She began to ramble on as he laughed, her stomach doing small butterflies at the sound of it,

"We can do all of that," he bumped her shoulder as she bumped his back. 

"That would be great," Cecelia smiled, "Oh! You'll need my number. So you can call." Things were looking up for Elvis. He had gotten her number. And he got to hang out with her. It wasn't a date, but it sure enough was something. Besides, he spent his weekends playing football, fixing his car, or on Beale Street. Now, he wouldn't have to be alone doing it.

When school was out for the day, Cecelia rushed to her car with a now-popped tire. Kids were so cruel, but that still didn't stop Cecelia. Going to the back of her car, she rolled the spare tire until she remembered that Midge had taken the tire kit with her. Elvis walked out with Red West, talking to him about his weekend plans, and then he saw Cecelia, who looked like a pinup girl in a calendar posing with a tire, "A little help here..." She sighed, watching some of her peers walk by, 

"Could you help me here... And they walked off." Cecelia huffed until she saw Elvis, 

"Not bother you, but..."

"I caught a flat last week." Popping open his trunk, he took out the jack. "How'd this happen."

"Those bullies you were talkin about..." she gritted her teeth,

"Don't let 'em get to ya, Cece. Which ain't easy to do," he sighed as he fixed her tire, "Just breathe and imagine the good Lord pickin' 'em off one by one." Cecelia laughed hard as Elvis laughed with her,

 "Morbid, but it helps." Cecelia grinned, "Say, call me when you get home so I know you're safe, okay."

"Cece, I'll be fine." Those hazel eyes pierced his soul in a glare, 

"Okay, okay, I will."

"Good, you better, or I'll find out where you live. And I'll!"

"You'll what." He smirked. His face was close to hers and she blushed a little.

"Bug ya! to death," she smirked,

"You could never bug me, Val." He winked,

"Cece the phones for you," Denise said as Cecelia raced down the stairs, 

"Thank you, Mother." she winked, taking the phone as she took a deep breath, 

"Cecelia speaking,"

"It's me, Elvis. We're still on for tomorrow. Right? " 

"You bet we are!" Cecelia grinned, "Do you wanna meet at your job or a restaurant or-"

"My job is fine." Elvis said, "You can park your car in the front, and we'll take mine." 

"Sounds good. " she smiled, trying not to sound so giddy, "Oh, and El!" she said as if she forgot something, 

"Yeah, Cece?"

"I may have bought several volumes of Captain Marvel Jr."

"You gotta let me read 'em!" 

"Why do you think I bought 'em..." 

"Cece, you're the best." he grinned. 

"No, El, you're the best, " she smiled. If only he knew how much he was starting to mean to her, 

"Say, bring the comics. There's a diner in Beale Street we could read 'em at."

"Deal." 

"Cece, time to get off the phone."

"Let me guess your mama."

"Mhmm."

"Elvis Aron Presley!

"Let me guess yours?"

"Yeah," 

"Well, Good night, El,"

"Night, Cece."

"So who was that," Denise asked as Cecelia smiled widely, her dimples on display,

 "Elvis Presley, he's a friend from school. And he's showing me around town tomorrow." Denise only laughed a little at her daughter's reaction. She was happy to see that something made her smile since they moved to Memphis. "And is this Elvis cute..." Denise asked as Cecelia blushed a bit, embarrassed, 

"Mother!" her brown cheeks turning red, "We're just friends!"

"For now... After all, you and Anthony Rodgers were friends..."

"That was a poor judgment. Besides, Anthony's an actor." 

"Who pretended to love me to get to you." Her mother was right, but she knew that Elvis was different. Besides, he didn't know her secret. And she didn't plan for him to find out anytime soon either, 

"He's not like that."

"What's he like then."

"I don't fully know yet, but he's not that." Cecelia sighed,

"Just be careful tomorrow."

"I will, and you have fun getting Daddy to do the electrical work for the studio," Cecelia mentioned as she walked up the stairs. 

 Neither party could hardly fall asleep from the excitement of seeing the other. Elvis tossed and turned in his bed. And Cecelia was counting sheep and talking to her posters as she swooned. This wasn't a date, right? Right?"

[naminethewriter]

One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter One: Quiet Meeting

Masterpost | Next | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, hello Janus. I hope you are having a lovely day?”

Janus looked up from the book he was looking through for damages. He had already done the same for a few books that had been returned to the library within the past week and only found a few, not noteworthy wrinkles and tears.

“Judy, welcome,” he greeted the old woman standing in front of his station with a smile. “Yes, it’s nice and quiet today. No school class coming through.”

“Oh, those little rascals aren’t so bad. It’s nice to see the town so lively.”

“I could see your point if this wasn’t a library and people are supposed to stay quiet in here.”

Judy chuckled. “They’re just kids, cut them some slack.”

“I am,” Janus argued. “They’re respectful with handling our books, at least. But I can still appreciate the days where I don’t have to deal with them, right?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s only fair. Anyway, I’ve brought you something.” She reached down next to her and pulled up a basket that she set on his station. “I made lemon bars for my son’s visit last weekend and I might have gone a little overboard. Take these and share them with the others, won’t you?”

Janus peaked under the cloth covering the basket and a nice smell spread around him. Judy’s baking was legendary, so he wasn’t about to turn her down. Instead, he was considering simply not telling his coworkers about the treats at all.

Then again, he couldn’t eat all of those by himself.

“Will do, Judy. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, no need for that. Consider it a thank you for all the help you’ve given me.”

“Speaking of which, are you looking for something in particular today?”

“Well, I may have heard that you got a new shipment in last week,” she began with a glint in her eye and Janus knew what her question would be before she asked it.

“Yes, we now do carry that new mystery novel of your favorite author,” he chuckled and her face lit up with excitement.

“Wonderful! It’s in the usual isle then?”

“It is.” He held up his hand when she was about to hurry away. “But I have a second copy right here with your name on it.” He pulled out the book in question and handed it to her.

“Oh, you are a godsent, Janus!” Judy laughed and Janus had to raise his finger to his lips to remind her she was in a library. “Right, right, I apologize. Thank you for saving it for me.”

“You’re very welcome. I can only let you borrow it for two weeks though, we already have a small waiting list.”

“But you said it was on the shelf?”

“I did and it is, but that copy can’t be borrowed for now. At least not while it’s in such high demand. We have three copies. One which will stay here, and two that are available for checkout.”

“And you still saved one for me, how sweet. I’ll make sure to return it as soon as I am done with it then.”

“Please do.” Janus scanned Judy’s library card to make the checkout official before waving after her as she left the building in hurried steps, very eager to start the book as soon as she got home. Janus quietly chuckled as he watched her leave before he got back to work.

Wednesdays were usually his quiet days. They opened and closed and hour later than other weekdays and the local elementary school’s reading program had the teachers bring in their brats every other week on Mondays, Tuesdays or Thursdays. Janus hadn’t lied to Judy, he didn’t mind the kids all that much, at least not this far into the year when they finally learned to respect not only the librarians but the books themselves and he much more rarely found scribbles on brought back pages.

Still, he preferred the days when they didn’t come.

So, he enjoyed it, working quietly until the automatic doors slid open again to let in another visitor. Janus looked up fleetingly, thinking it would be just a regular coming through, but instead he saw someone he had never seen before.

Which happened rarely. This town wasn’t the smallest, but Janus knew pretty much everyone who lived here at least vaguely enough to recognize them.

Considering the latest rumors, he did have a good idea of who the stranger was.

The man – or male presenting, Janus supposed – stopped after crossing the threshold, taking a moment to look around and orient himself. He wore a hoodie that was too large for his frame with the hood pulled up, so Janus couldn’t make out much of his face, but he could tell that he was quite tall despite his slouch and rather slim built.

And pale in a way that almost seemed sickly.

(Not that Janus fared much better.)

The stranger spotted Janus after a few moments and hesitantly approached.

“Uhm, hey,” he greeted once he stood in front of Janus’ workstation. He kept his voice quiet, and Janus was intrigued by his low baritone.

“Welcome!” Janus greeted with a smile, doing his best to hide his staring. “You must be the new tenant of Mrs. Talbot. Are you adjusting well enough to our quaint town?”

“Why the fuck do you know where I live?” The stranger had taken a step back, glaring at Janus with eyes that he could now make out were a deep brown.

“We don’t get a lot of new people here, so if someone moves in, it’s usually the talk of the town for a bit. And I’m a central person in terms of gossip. It’s nothing personal, I assure you.”

“It’s creepy.”

Janus shrugged. “I can see why you’d think that. But that’s just how it is here. And you’re even the special kind of newbie, so everyone’s doubly interested.”

“What does that mean?!” the stranger hissed. “How am I special?”

“Well, there’s only a few reasons people come here. The first is that they’re moving back. I myself belonged to that category after I came back after going to college out of state. Has the rumor mill going about all the changes that happened in the time they were gone. I, for example, got a lot more into fashion. And grew my hair out. I got so many questions about how I took care of it, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Janus’ rambling seemed to have calmed the stranger down a bit, since he now came over to lean against the station instead of keeping his distance as if Janus was about to jump him.

“Then there’s the people that get dragged here by other locals. Partners, mostly. They often have to endure some scrutiny to see if they’re good enough for whoever brought them here. We have a lot of old ladies with strong opinions on what a good relationship is, so look out for them if you ever start dating while you’re here.

“Third,” Janus was counting down by his fingers now, “are the workers. Transferred to a backwater town like ours often leads to grumpiness, so you can usually tell who’s here because their contract demanded it. Sometimes they warm up to it, often times they don’t and transfer out again as soon as they can. Second to last there’s the nature people who just want to live somewhere with a bunch of trees. And we got plenty of those. And last but not least, there’s people like you. You just show up one day, with no roots, a past you don’t want to talk about and wanting as little attention as possible.”

“You sure make a lot of judgements without knowing anything about me,” the man murmured, but he didn’t look as put off as he did at the start of their conversation.

Janus shrugged. “Maybe. It comes from experience, however. I helped out here even before I finished school and it’s a gathering space for a lot of people. I developed a good sense of intuition that way. Plus, my father was like you, too.” The stranger simply raised an eyebrow. “It’s a long story, maybe I’ll tell you about it if you’d invite me out to a drink sometime.” Janus smirked as the other chuckled.

“Your quite forward, aren’t you.”

“I know what I like and I don’t like beating around the bush.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“You could change that.”

That startled another chuckle out of the stranger. “It’s Virgil. Nice to meet you.”

“Janus.” He took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “I look forward to getting to know you, Virgil.”

[gcantread]

November 2024 reads

[loved liked ok nope dnf bookclub*]

Sundown in San Ojuela • Wuthering Heights* • The Scorpio Races • The Serviceberry • Graveyard Shift • Saga (Vol 1) • Shubeik Lubeik

"Fingers crossed I'll have more time to read in November," she said.

What happened instead was that I had a busy month of grass-touching and then, in the last few weeks, panicked about how little I had read (compared to how much I wanted to read) and brought a huge stack of novellas and graphic novels on my road trip to Santa Fe. This turned out to be exactly the right move because I read them ALL and there was not a single flop!

Sundown in San Ojuela ★★★1/2☆ - A book that is a lot confused, but got the spirit (and vibes.) Great prose, but it definitely suffers from that debut novel condition of "way too much going on." Oh well. We may not have killed our darlings, but we killed a lot of cop characters in assorted gory ways!

Wuthering Heights ★★★1/2☆ - Had to use the hilarious Scholastic Twilight-esque cover, of course, because I read it for @bellasbookclub! I think I liked it better this time around. These characters are so delightfully ridiculous—scenery chewed swallowed digested. (Yes, Cathy, I do have queer dreams.)

The Scorpio Races ★★★★★ - I half expected this book to let me down, and it DIDN'T! The characters? Compelling. The burn? Slow. The horses? Killin' folks left and right. I should probably write up a longer review because I have so many fun notes on this one.

The Serviceberry ★★★★★ - Robin Wall Kimmerer is an auto-buy for me (I can't wait to see her speak in person this month!) and this short and beautiful book is a great example of why. An especially lovely read if you're familiar with the fandom gift economy and want to ponder how one might work in the offline world. Also it contains the recurring phrase "I store my meat in the belly of my brother" and homies I'm snickering childishly

Saga ★★★★☆ - Has been much raved-about to me and now I can see why. Extremely gripping beginning to a series I didn't realize is up to 72 volumes?? That can't be right. Anyway, fantastic intro to the world and its "scifi dirtbag Romeo and Juliet" characters. Did this book just babytrap me?

Graveyard Shift ★★★☆☆ - Not so much a novella as "the first two thirds of a novella that suddenly cuts off" (insert Zuko gif here.) But a very suspenseful, well-executed and page-turning two thirds. Turns out "A bunch of smokers in a graveyard witness some guy burying a small mountain of dead rats" is a pretty ironclad concept.

Shubeik Lubeik ★★★★★ - The more I think about this one, the more I like it. The worldbuilding ("wishes are a commodity that can be mined and sold to the rich") was interesting and perfect for class commentary, the three (really four) main characters were well rendered (Shawqia my beloved!) and I loved the subtle and non-subtle interconnectedness of their stories.

DNFs: I have officially put The Wise Man's Fear on hiatus. I'll finish it eventually, I just need to be in the right mood and/or steel myself, I think.

November superlatives

Next up:

It's only December 2nd, but I've already finished A Memory Called Empire and made a dent in Jade City. So... sci-fi epics and finishing ongoing series month, I guess? Cheers I'll drink to that bro

previous months:

july august september october

[pickinglilahs]

Blackeclipse for the soul

Part 24; Part 25; Part 26 Hey...I know I've been away but here's a new chapter. Also, I wrote a 18+ one-shot that may or may not fit perfectly between this chapter and the last... Also, this chapter is, like...a week or so after the last one so you don't have to remember what happened

"Hey, Starshine? Have you seen James?"

Regulus looked up from his book with a frown. "Not since this morning." A beat. Then, "Should we be worried?"

Remus worried his lip as he sat in his chair in their hidden alcove, holding his school bag to his chest like a lifeline. "Maybe? He was okay yesterday, right?"

Regulus shrugged. "I didn't notice anything wrong, but I don't know him as well as you do."

Remus looked up at him. He knew that was a bit of a sore spot; Regulus often felt behind because of how in tune James and Remus were. It was inevitable, given their prior relationships, but Remus and James both hated it, all the same.

Remus tried to shake the worry for James off. After all, "It's too soon to tell. He slept last night so he could just be off with Siri or something. Sorry for bothering you with this. It's probably nothing."

Regulus set his book down deliberately and came over to kneel at Remus' feet, taking both his hands and holding his gaze. "Moonbeam," he admonished, "Don't ever apologize for worrying. If something feels wrong, I want you to tell me,” he tilts his head, and adds as an afterthought, “Or James. Instincts are our subconscious trying to warn us of things our conscious mind hasn't picked up on yet. And you, Moonbeam, have incredible instincts."

Remus forced himself to relax, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. "He said he would meet us here after class. It's not like him to forget or bail."

Regulus nodded, stroking the backs of Remus' hands with his thumbs. "Do you want to go look for him?"

The older boy hesitated but eventually shook his head, "No. If he is with Siri, we won't be able to find them anyway. And if he isn't... He's probably in bed. He usually just wants to be alone when he's depressed."

Frowning, "Is it okay to leave him alone?"

"For a while," Remus sighed. "He doesn't think he deserves love and comfort when he's like this and he reacts badly if you try to force it on him too soon."

"Badly how?"

Shrugging, "Sometimes he disappears; takes the map, and hides so we can't find him. Sometimes he yells. Usually, though, he forces himself to act okay. Tries to prove that he doesn't need help. That's why it's so hard to tell when he's depressed sometimes; he's good at hiding it."

"I guess we'll just have to watch him close, then." Regulus squeezed Remus' hands. He leaned up to kiss the other boy's Marked cheek before standing slowly and going back to his own chair.

Remus sighed and pulled out his homework, trying to focus.

~~~

James had not been with Sirius.

Sirius himself said as much when Remus and Regulus sat down across from him later that evening. And while James did join them for dinner, Regulus noted that he didn't actually eat anything.

Remus and Regulus shared a look that James didn't see; Regulus decided to stay up in the tower that night.

After dinner, the trio stopped at the Slytherin dorms and made their way up to bed. They tried to put James between them, but he hauled Regulus over to put him in the middle. They didn't protest.

When they woke up to find James absent the next morning, there was no denying it. Something was up.

"So... What do we do?"

Remus ran a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh. "Same as before? Make sure he's taking his potions and keep an eye on him. Not really much to do."

Regulus could only make out his outline with the early morning light illuminating the closed curtains. "It frustrates you. That you can't just hug his pain away. Take away the ache like we do for you."

Remus turned his face towards him. It hadn't been a question—more an... observation—but it was true, nonetheless. After a moment, Remus snorted and placed his hand back over his face.

"And you complain that you don't know us well enough."

Regulus 'harrumphed' and rolled to crawl on top of Remus. He took the other boy's hands from his face and glared down at him. "It's not about knowing you. Anyone with decent enough observation skills can know a person. It's that... I mean- You two have known each other for years and I..."

Remus brought a hand up to tuck a wayward curl behind Regulus' ear, fingers lingering to stroke over his cheekbone. "And you feel behind. James and I have had time to learn to work together and you haven't."

Regulus' glare slid into a pout, bottom lip sticking out in the most adorable way. Remus bit his own lip to suppress a smile, but Regulus noticed and pouted even harder.

Chuckling, Remus leaned up to nip at his lip. Regulus jerked in surprise, letting out an indignant sound. He tried to pull away, but Remus rolled with him, pinning the younger boy to press kisses all over his face.

Just then, James pulled back the bed curtains. Remus and Regulus froze, squinting into the sudden sunlight. James took one look at them and grinned mischievously. "Are we smothering Regulus?"

"No!"

"Yes!"

James' smile grew as he launched himself onto the bed. He flopped down just beside them and started peppering Regulus' face with kisses himself.

Laughing and tickling and kissing, the boys wrestled across the bed.

"OI! At least close the curtains!"

Remus nearly fell off as they all startled to attention. Luckily, his two quidditch-playing boys had cat-like reflexes—literally in Regulus' case—and caught him just in time. Hauling him into the safety of their arms, James and Regulus looked up to find Benji standing in the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed.

"Sorry," Regulus and Remus chorused, while James grumbled about 'not doing anything.'

Benji and Peter shared an amused look, but the trio were too busy scrambling from the bed to get ready for class to notice.

Remus and Regulus were also focused on James. They discreetly watched his face and body language as they got ready and headed down to breakfast. When James filled his plate and dug in, they shrugged at each other.

Maybe it was just a one-off.

Only time would tell.

@starchasersunseeker @poetrypirate @niad4827 @bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

[bronanlynch]

once again I've watched more anime than done anything else this week but I promise I also have other stuff to talk abt

listening (podcast):

Great Gundam Project: almost done with their 0079 episodes and it's so funny to hear how confused and surprised they are that Newtypes don't get mentioned until the last 10 episodes. also, once again, hearing them talk about Char reminds me that I miss seeing Char on my television screen :/

Palisade: once again it was crazy good this week. shout out to fucked up dream sequences/visions of alternate futures, gotta genuinely be one of my favorite storytelling devices

listening (music): MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday, which is going on my Partizan/Palisade playlist for Balence reasons

reading:

Imperial Uncle: got to more fun reveals that make the main relationship a lot tastier and more fun. still having a good time with this one

The Death I Gave Him: part of the appeal of this book for me (other than that I love Hamlet & Hamlet retellings) is the romance with the sentient lab AI. this should shock absolutely no one (at least no one who knows me as the Sokrates/Integrity guy lol) but I'm real into stuff that explores like, how intimacy works when you don't each have your own separate bodies

A Power Unbound: also started & finished something I've been looking forward to, A Power Unbound by Freya Marske, the third book in a romance/historical fantasy trilogy (different main characters for each) set mostly in Edwardian England. I've enjoyed the other books in the series, and I enjoyed this one too (though I think I prefer the other two for reasons that probably don't have to do with the actual quality of this book and have more to do with what I like & don't like in a main relationship, and actually it's a testament to how strong the writing was that the relationship worked for me anyway, because it did feel earned in terms of both characterization & themes, even though it's the sort of relationship dynamic that I tend to be hesitant about because I often see it done very badly in fanfic in ways that do a disservice to the personalities of both characters involved). anyway. my actual review is that I love fucked up magic houses and there are several of those in this book so shout out to that, and one of the main characters is extremely my type (short, angry, hates the aristocracy, etc)

watching:

I'm in Love with the Villainess: we're caught up now, and I do love class conflict even if I'm sure it's going to be incredibly simplistic and silly because that's the show this is (which I am fine with, to be clear, this is a romance anime based on lovingly parodying otome games, I am treating it with the same kind of seriousness that I would treat something like Scum Villain)

Bakeoff: I'm glad that this year they seem to be better about not putting way too much weight on the showstopper and sometimes deciding star baker based on other challenges like. finally some respect for people who do really well in the signature!!

Legend of the Galactic Heroes: I mean. I've been posting through it about this one so I don't think I have any new insights here just. man. I love it when a major character death is done really well. what a show (positive)

Gundam Seed: you may, at this point, be asking why Seed is our next Gundam after finishing ZZ, especially when every week I talk about pining for Char. the answer is because my roommate watched some of it a while ago and wanted to revisit it, and also because we're saving Char's Counterattack for when we get really desperate for Gundam that isn't Seed. anyway. Seed is fun so far!

the above description of Gundam Seed was written a few days ago when we first started but before we got to the info dump about what's up with Coordinators & Naturals so I'm editing this to say: oof. it really is like what if someone took all of the parts of the original Newtype stuff that I was most skeptical about, took out all of the metaphorical stuff from Zeta that redeemed the concept for me, and then explicitly added literal eugenics. don't like that!

the other thing about Seed is the misogyny which like. god. at least the misogyny in Zeta felt more interesting to think about. at least it felt like Tomino was saying things about gender even if I didn't always like it. this is just peak early 2000s misogyny where everyone including the writers hates women so much that every man comes across as incredibly gay because their relationships with other men are treated so much more seriously

at this point you might be asking what I actually like about this show since I've been complaining for several paragraphs and the answer is I love it when childhood friends end up on the opposite sides of a war. also, a lot of Seed feels like it's trying very hard to Be A Gundam Show (for better or worse tbh, I can feel myself being marketed to, I can practically hear Bandai being like, hey remember how cool it is when a blue-and-white mobile suit fights a pinkish-red mobile suit, don't you want to buy some models), and I am not immune to classic Gundam shit like "oops these kids are involved in a war now because the military was developing a top-secret superweapon right next to where they live" and "your lives are at risk and/or you might get arrested for trying to protect your friends because the higher-ups are incompetent/selfish/do not care about you." I am also not immune to squads of edgy anime boys, or giant robots that each have their own special weapon/power, or whatever the fuck Le Creuset's got going on. I love him. I still miss Char and he's not quite filling that void but I do love him

playing:

another session of my Blades in the Dark campaign, based on the image below (from here). the crew was asked to get the sea serpent to go away and leave ships alone, and absolutely no one was surprised that the secret actual mission was to protect the sea serpent (a baby one) from the coast guard who were going to try to make it leave but more violently because we're playing Blades like it's a game about befriending creatures (see also: Missy is currently trying to resocialize a former fighting goat and Xiao Yun collects extremely fucked up birds)

Ace Attorney 5: not very far into the trial but man. sorry for falling for the trilogy nostalgia but I love to have Edgeworth as a prosecutor, I love the energy that he and Phoenix have, I'm such a sucker for defense attorney & prosecutor working together to find the truth and also they're in love

making: vaguely spanakopita-inspired stuffed pastry wreath. we made it once before and put too much extra vegetable in that released too much water while it was baking so the dough just straight up did not cook. we did it better this time! the dough is actually baked! (it's store-bought crescent rolls, we did not make the dough). anyway. there's spinach and mushroom and herbed goat cheese in there, and it's tasty

drinking: the grocery store had peppermint bark creme liqueur, and it's pretty good in hot chocolate

writing: continued to pick away at a zine fic, figured out what I want to write for my Nirvana in Fire exchange fic, and also did a little bit more on the Integrity fic that I've been working on. it has been a minute since I've written an action scene huh

The Principality knows how to contain divines, to leash them, to defang them and bend their powers to its will. And Integrity is an old divine, and never among the most awe-inspiring. Integrity is a small, quiet thing, precise and intimate and not suited for flashy displays of power like many of its fellows. But it is a divine nonetheless, and when it fights, it brings death. Orbit-and-Integrity steps into the corridor where the Princept fled. Orbit bares their remaining teeth, blood pooling in their mouth and seeping through the seams that begin to open in Integrity’s armor where it no longer has the focus to keep them closed.

[steampunkenglish]

I Missed Last Friday, Sorry

What Happened Last Week

You may have noticed my absence on this forum last week (all five or six of you who follow me regularly--by the way, thank you). I hit that portion of the semester known by all as finals. Last week, I was finishing my grading so that this week, finals week, I could focus on test proctoring, answering last-minute emails of drama, and planning for next term. This Friday, I'm waiting on one last student to complete a final (technical difficulties) so that I can post grades for my last class. Once that's done, I can relax a little (or so I tell myself).

I was also recovering from JordanCon, which was beyond fantastic! I had a wonderful time and sold books at the Falstaff table (as usual). I got to room with Tamsin Silver, who is just the best roomie ever. It's always good to get to know people who love history and historical figures as much as you do.

I got to hang out with so many people I love that weekend that it's hard to name everyone. If you haven't come to JordanCon in Atlanta yet, you should give it a try. It's a small con and there are a lot of writers and small publishers who attend. This makes it a great place to network and just meet people. Even if you only go to a few of the sessions or workshops, the con is worth it because of that. I kind of consider it my genesis con because that's where I met my publisher.

What I Plan to Do on Summer Break

I'm not getting a huge summer break. I'll get about a week where I can take a few days off from the day job (not enough hours this time--do not get me started on how I feel about using vacation hours for summer break when there are no students on campus anyway). Still, I do have some plans during this time of no students and no classes:

I am going to work in earnest on the second Kate and Shadow novel, which still is untitled (maybe #supersecretsecondkateandshadownovel?). I am getting a grip on the real evil in this novel and it's going to make things difficult for our heroine. I've been flailing around trying to figure out how this will work, but I think I've got it, so we'll see.

I will be at the Georgia Renaissance Festival May 20 and 21 with a bunch of other authors (some Falstaff, some not) to sell books. There will be hardcovers as well as paperbacks of Children of Menlo Park. There may also be copies of a certain anthology I have a story in at my table if it releases in time (I'm hoping).

I'm going to help my dad plant our annual vegetable/flower garden in the front yard. It's going to be bigger than ever this year. There will be photographs, and you all will have to just endure that. I'm also going to help him finish laying gravel under the back porch. And yes, my dad is 83 but can still outwork you and me and three other people.

I plan to take lots of walks and possibly a day trip somewhere fun. We shall see.

The rest of the summer is looking to be interesting and full. Stay tuned!

#childrenofmenlopark #writinglife #dayjob #summerbreak #georgiarenaissancefestival #jordancon

[worldenough-and-time]

ten books

Thanks @spindrifters for the tag!

(In no particular order)

1. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (no surprise given my handle, but this is maybe my favorite book ever. I reread it last year to confirm, and yes it still is the best, and I made the mistake of reading the ending while away for the weekend at a friend’s wedding and I cried my fucking eyes out and then I did just a little bit of psilocybin and sang country songs with my friends and had a long talk with my other friend about our creative aspirations and then I was seriously ill for about a week after that, which may or may not have had anything to do with the choices I’d made the previous evening. Anyway, it’s just a great love story. I’m a simple girl.)

2. Beautiful World, Where Are You By Sally Rooney (Everyone has the Sally Rooney book that feels like she read their fucking diary and this one is mine. No, I won’t tell you which parts. But I will tell you that I think the Wedding Chapter in this book is maybe the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. I’m not exaggerating. I slept with this book next to my bed for weeks and finally to break my attachment to it and read something else, I gave it to my friend who hates Sally Rooney to read on her way to London. She did hate it- couldn’t even get past the phone sex scene, which honestly if you don’t think that’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever read, I really don’t know how to help you. How could you not love this book??! It’s half emails!)

3. The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (I know this is a series but idc, if I could only pick one it’d be The Dream Thieves but all these books are the Books of My Heart. I reread them pretty much every year. Look, sometimes you’re in college and for the first time in your life you have Guy Friends, and you are a little bit in love with all of them, even though you are all young fucking idiots, and it feels like a revelation for some reason. Anyone? No? Just me? Well, Maggie Stiefvater wrote a book series about that experience so now I don’t have to.)

4. Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (This book feels like falling in love. All my favorite books feel like falling in love.)

5. Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (This is really a catch all for the whole series but I’m a Harrowhark bitch through and through, also this book literally rewired my brain such that I could only write in second person for like two months. I think Tamsyn Muir is a mad genius.)

6. Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki (Might be recency bias but I just finished one and really really loved it!)

7. The Host, Stephanie Meyer (I know this is such a weird pick and I could just… not, BUT I unironically love this book. I read it in high school I’ve reread it several times since, it’s kind of a comfort book? Idk how to explain it, but cringe is dead so here we are.)

8. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green (look, you either love JG or you don’t, but I love his writing so much and this book came out my senior year of high school and I carried it around with me in my backpack for months and whenever I would feel sad I would reread it in the middle of class and Mel and I tried to adapt it into a piece for our HS speech team and I can still recite quotes from it and it still means a lot to me.)

9. Fruits Basket by Natsuki Takaya (okay I know this is a manga series and it’s technically 23 books, but Furuba is my Bible, and any list without it would be wrong. I read it for the first time at 12 and I reread it every couple of years and every time I come away with something new. Also I think the original TokyoPop translation is far superior to the Viz editions and it makes me sad that they’re harder to find these days. The 2019 anime adaptation is beautiful but again, I think the TokyoPop translation is better than the anime subs. This series fucking raised me. That is all.)

10. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (look LOOK, it might be the great American novel, okay? It feels so stupid to have it on this list, like, Sam, people fucking know The Great Gatsby is good, we all had to read it for school. Idk man. I love Fitzgerald, truly the saddest sad sack there ever was. His wife was infinitely cooler than him. But God damn could that man write a sentence.)

[tongueofcat]

Personal, read if you want… warning though it’s a fucking novel.

Just went through a bittersweet dive through someone’s blog that I used to know because we had a mutual friend. We probably don’t anymore, said mutual friend and I don’t talk anymore on a one-on-one basis (it’s very long drama and I still don’t fully understand it). And I just… they have a very happy, fulfilling relationship and I wish them to have continued happiness… but, by reading their shenanigans and coupley goofs and good times, I’m reminded of my ex-wife and simultaneously said mutual friend.

If they read this they will most certainly know it’s them. I mean no ill will by writing this, my Tumblr has become sort of a diary under my talk tag to express myself and better process my emotions. Mainly because I have very little people to bounce off of anymore. Whose fault is that? Mine, probably. I just wish I knew what I did with my ex-wife and mutual friend to be essentially be abandoned on the metaphorical side of the road. Maybe I’m being slightly hyperbolic - we have a shared discord server that’s… not active whatsoever. It’s lucky if it gets 1 post a month. But, I digress, back to the point…

My ex-wife and I separated in May 2022; we were together for approximately 9.5 years (we lived together the whole time minus a few months). We were married April 1st, 2019 (the reasoning for the date was that she had trouble remembering dates and I wanted it to be an easy-to-remember date for her - we didn’t realize over half of Facebook, when we announced our nuptials, would assume we were joking). Since then I’ve done/have experienced the following:

- Moved away from my social circle.

I lovingly curated this social circle practically all my 20s. I was 29 when the separation happened and turned 30 within the next couple of weeks. This consisted of over 5 people, probably 10. This was a several states away move; I cannot just go visit my old once offline friends at my leisure. I cannot drive, and every attempt to learn in the past few years has all come down to me realizing I have whack-amounts of anxiety related to driving. More so than I used to think.

- Moved back in with my parents.

My parents and I, boy I do love them, form a dysfunctional unit at best. It’s… hard to be around them for extended periods of time and they’re really the only in-person people I see on a daily/weekly/monthly basis (see above: cannot drive). My father is a non-academic sports guy golfer who, when I try to explain my worldview and politics to him… just assumes I’m getting my information from Fake News™️ sites or just leftist media. He voted for Trump this year and I gave him so much shit for it my mother had to sit me down and tell me to stop. Said shit was try to educate him (I will admit most of it was done angrily/frustratedly) on what will happen because of his actions. My mother is now a capital D democrat (raised republican, but Trump’s last term flipped her). She is very academic, book-smart, and independent; she is also a British royalphile (she is not British, but did live there for a period of time in her youth) and excessively exercises (Pilates is her exercise of choice) — there is nothing wrong with exercising of course, it is good for you, it’s just she goes to classes 6 out of 7 days of the week multiple (2-3) times a day. Now that I’ve painted a picture for you of them, you can see how different they are… no wonder I’m a fucking Gemini because I’m like this odd mish-mash of their behaviors and personalities, as well as looks. Anyway, this is a very long way to try to explain that we don’t mesh well together. Since I’m the produced assigned middle ground at birth child, I’ve always been like a carrier pigeon between them. We rarely all socialize in the same room because we argue. So when I hang out with my parents it’s on a one-on-one basis… and it’s just. I love them but we are so different, despite me being their literal offspring. I find myself shut in my room most of the time… which of course is very lonely, but when I do venture out I get ridiculed for some reason or another or ignored entirely. I do not know which I prefer yet…

- Worked several part time jobs, all of which I struggled due to executive dysfunction (ADHD and possibly Autism, haven’t gotten around to getting tested sorry) and my physical disability.

I have always struggled in the work force, be it retail/food or corporate. Even well-medicated (ADHD, depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, chronic back pain) I never meet all the metrics necessary to stay hired for long. I am, however, generally well liked by coworkers as well as the clientele if applicable. I come to really enjoy most of the jobs I work in… only to be let go anywhere from 2 months in to half a year later. My last job fired me in October of 2023 over the phone on my day off. I have looked for work and submitted over 100 (I’m being serious) resumes to prospective employers and I haven’t gotten any bites. Eventually, I gave up, decided okay, I am in a lot of pain when I try to work, even with accommodations like ergonomic desk and being allowed to sit instead of standing my entire shift… why don’t I try my hand at applying for disability? I meet with a disability lawyer via a service that says they won’t get paid until I’m approved (getting like 1/4th or something of the first check/backpay). They say I might have a case, if I can scrounge up all the required medical proof needed for disability. I go to do that and find out my donkey-ass (read ass^2) doctors rarely notated my fucking ailments. Most of my notes just talk about me being overweight, I had to really dig to find fibromyalgia, a diagnosis I remember them slapping me with quickly after blood work and poking me in various painful places on my body. I have been told I have MULTIPLE ISSUES, but apparently I’ve simply just been told. I couldn’t believe it! My back pain, which I’ve gotten multiple scans for like MRIs and shit… all I can find is mild scoliosis. Um? I remember a doctor telling me it’s highly probable I have a pinched nerve or two. I gave up looking for more medical documentation due to the depression that came from me realizing 5+ years of medical drama watered down to, like… fibromyalgia and mild scoliosis. That’s all I could show for it on the physical medical side — I have a lot of mental health problems, too… but I decided I had enough. So I put it off… the attorney checked in with me via text while I had Bronchitis and I just… went off on them. I shouldn’t have done that, but I did.

TL;DR: I don’t think I’m eligible for disability of any kind.

- Discovered I do, in fact, self harm. Regularly if I don’t contain myself.

TW: sexual assault, sex.

The fall following the seperation from my wife I was so fucking lonely. I was doing poorly at my bakery job, a job a loved so much. I decided I needed to punish myself for everything that had led up to this moment: my failed marriage, my deteriorating health, being bad at jobs, and basically everything else. I am not the prettiest person, but I know my angles and how to sell myself to others due to a life of being in a near-constant state of anxiety. I make a Tinder and swipe on every man I can until I get hits. I do not discriminate by appearance because, in general, I am not initially attracted to appearance. I could write a paper on my sexuality, but not now. Long story short, I was not sexually attracted to any of them. This was not about my pleasure. I am able to obtain a date essentially every day in the upcoming week (5). They are not dinner dates… they are fuck dates. So I guess l got a bunch of hookups, whatever. I go along with anything the guy of the day wants to do, even if I normally wouldn’t do that. Most of these guys were okay individuals, one of them was actually a sweetie-pie. But then came Friday and I realized, mid-coitus, that I couldn’t do this anymore and I wanted to go home. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and continued doing his thing after I clearly said please stop. He told me to shut up and take it. I became numb and obliged. Afterwards I was bought an Uber to go home because he didn’t like my vibes (aka crying after being raped). It was not my first time being sexually assaulted, but beforehand it was mostly COCSA with the one exception of my first in-person boyfriend raping me while I was asleep. Anyways, something changed in my brain chemistry on that ride home in the Uber. I decided that level of degradation was the exact punishment I deserved for all my sins thus far. So I, extremely depressed and unmedicated, decided to try to recreate that feeling when my boss tells me to take the week of to recuperate (I told him I was sick, which wasn’t a complete lie - I had a cold). I just knew he wanted to fire me. I could feel it, I just could. That was my breaking point. Fast forward to the end of next week I put myself into sexual situations I didn’t want multiple (5+) times within that week. I do not consider any of them to be sexual assault, but it was enough that I had become numb during the act and felt like human garbage afterwards, so I got what I came for. I mention in passing to my online friends about my many, many hookups and it’s seen as a good thing. They think I was bragging. I wasn’t. I think a part of me was trying to get help. I do not blame my friends, only myself. Eventually the hookups became more and more spread apart… but, for the moment, I had opened myself up to being used sexually. This eventually ramped up to me performing sexual acts near my job for two coworkers. My fear in losing my job I enjoyed caused me to look at my behavior and actions and finally say no, I actually do not deserve or want this. And I stopped. That was spring May 2023. So this had been a cycle I had fallen into for a while.

- Had several crushes on people, most of them not panning out whatsoever.

I have one person who I think I could really be happy with, like a potential life partner. They feel similarly to me, but we’ve ultimately come to the conclusion that we both suck at romantic relationships, so we are not together. Also the fact they live in Scotland and I live in Texas. Because of this I have attempted to recreate any sort of love with others… I am currently solo poly and I have been since the separation.

I haven’t really dated anyone except my last boyfriend who I just broke up with. It wasn’t really that messy, essentially he looked at his life and realized he didn’t have time to properly be with me. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though! We dated from early August 2024 to like… November 1st 2024. It wasn’t that long. But I had a good time… it was nice to feel loved for a while romantically.

Before that I had a massive crush on someone I met after being separated from my ex-wife, via my old social circle. They are such an interesting person! I confessed in May 2024 on discord in a rambling message like hey I think you’re really cool, sweet, and have amazing hair (also you’re pretty everywhere else, too) and I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted to let you know how I felt regardless! They were flattered and ultimately declined dating, but we started this weird friends with benefits situation that, looking back on it, was more romantically-charged than sexual? Even when I visited my old stomping grounds where they lived a month later and stayed at their residence for multiple weeks, we didn’t have sex. Not for a lack of trying on my part, I prompted them multiple times. They kept declining and I was like cool, cool. We did, however, go on multiple dates. They even took me to a park at night and we talked a lot after an extremely long day of fun. It all felt very romantic to me. We made out/kissed a lot which I enjoyed very much… but I came to the conclusion we didn’t have a traditional friends with benefits setup. I… truly didn’t know what was going on. We had numerous hard conversations that watered down to you are infatuated with me (read: me, Cat, was infatuated with them) and we are not going to be together. We weren’t compatible in that sense, but enjoyed each other enough we didn’t want to ruin the relationship. I went home after a month of friend times in my old city and… we slowly stopped talking on a one-on-one basis. I became upset by this and… I don’t exactly remember what I wrote, but it wasn’t a happy message. I tried to explain how I was so confused and adored them. Recently, we’ve been hanging out in voice calls (like every other week, once or twice said week) and I have come to the conclusion that’s what our relationship has become. We are friends of a mutual friend that enjoy each other’s company, but not enough to maintain regular contact. This is ok. I wish them the best… they are an extremely talented and wonderful person.

Circling back to the person in Scotland. We have been talking on a more regular basis again (note: 1-3 times a week)… we started a new writing roleplay and it’s really fun. They are just… I’m crying writing this, okay? I deeply care for them. They’ve been there before my separation, and during the separation process they were one of my pillars I leaned on. They have stayed by my side unlike other friends/pillars I’ve lost. I want nothing more for them to be happy and healthy. I know I will never meet them in person, for multiple reasons… but I just… I love them so much. If someone were to ask me who my soulmate was they would be the first person that comes to mind. My ex-wife hated that word… and for a good reason. Fucked up story behind that one, I’ll tell ya! But, yeah. I would drop everything to be with them. It will not happen.

I have come to the conclusion that I am not compatible with relationships. So I have simply just stopped trying.

List over.

I have experienced so much so fast since the separation… I am tired. I do not see me being a productive member of society, a parent to human children, or even a life partner to anyone. I… don’t really know why I keep living other than a natural desire to not be dead. My life used to be my ex-wife and our little family of three fur babies… it’s all I really cared about at the end of the day. I’ve been searching for some meaning now that that’s gone. People have told me live life for yourself! And I just… I’m sorry that’s just not how I work. Before my ex-wife I wasn’t nearly as depressed and I remember being confident, too. I was athletic and independent as I could be for someone who still lived at home. Throughout my relationship with my ex-wife, we slowly became codependent. I remember a pivotal point in this was when I was staying with my parents for a month or more to attend a wedding. Her parents barred me from coming home and we basically had to convince them to let me come back. My ex-wife changed her parents in her phone to other names — I distinctly remember her changing her dad to sir. I don’t remember what she called her mom and her other mom. Yes there’s three of them, I am not going into detail about that, sorry. Anyway, it created an us vs them mentality we never really recovered from, even after moving into our own place a couple years later. I really liked her parents, even her other mom who seemed to have it out for me. I wanted their approval so bad! But, in the end I never got it. They weren’t like… evil, but I was never fully accepted into the family. I always felt like an other. My ex-wife and I were like two peas in a pod. We did everything together: watched shows, movies, played games with each other or watched the other while they played a game… and we wrote together. That’s how we met: we wrote together in a now-defunct roleplay site that eventually we migrated from to our own forum and Skype. We had several stories that spanned the entirety of our 9.5 year relationship… we were creating up until April 2022 according to our last roleplay/writing messages. So basically up until the end. A big part of leaving my ex-wife was leaving thousands of characters and storylines behind. All that love and work poured onto the floor like split milk.

I mention this to put it beside the game of monster of the week we had been playing with aforementioned friend for like, I’m not gonna check receipts, but around two years or so. The three of us would meet once a week on Saturday to play an intense 4-6 hour game that completely took over my life in the form of a new hyper focus. I used that game as a crutch to get through the weeks of working at a callcenter at an insurance company (a job I eventually had to leave due to how buck wild my depression got). It was amazing. My ex-wife is a fantastic storyteller and all-around creator and my old friend is just amazing, too. Fantastic creatives. I considered myself the weak link between the three of us, I even had bouts where I was like am I even worthy of being in this game, they are soooo talented. But, despite that, the three of us became exceptionally close. We had a group chat that we all talked in basically all day everyday. I developed feelings for said friend. Apparently my type is oh, you’re creating something with me? Damn, that’s very attractive can I love you forever? Under the right circumstances at least (I haven’t found every aspect in recreating it purposefully, believe me I’ve tried). Anyway, we had a lot of fun. It was so fun to talk every day and share memes about MOTW between ourselves. Old friend is, not being hyperbolic, one of my all-time favorite artists. They drew a lot for the MOTW campaign and it was so cool. Anytime they drew, be it for the campaign or not, I adored it. It made me want to draw and create more, and they encouraged it. Old friend was a great friend! I… miss them a lot. Just message them I hear you whisper through the internet. I can’t. They have repeatedly asked me not to message them directly. So I don’t… in hopes I will hear from them again one day and we can rebuild our relationship. I highly doubt that will happen now. The last time we really talked about that they mentioned something along the lines of ‘I can be a guy you know’ when responding to my hopes of friendship. I’m still not sure what that means exactly, but I know it’s not friendship in the traditional sense. What did do you to warrant this reaction? Looking back at the message logs I’m still not 100% certain. I wasn’t an angel, I had emotional outbursts and begged them for attention. But when I cited those things as possible reasons why they did what they did, they said that wasn’t the reason. That I was cherry picking. I… I’m being entirely honest here: if you’re reading this I still don’t know exactly what I did. I read my friend’s explanations and remember at the time being so afraid of losing them that I thought I understood at the time, but at the end of the day I didn’t. I did not go back to read the messages for the purpose of writing this, but I do remember them pretty well. That said, I could be forgetting key details. I didn’t want to relive that fear of losing them and the sadness that comes with the conclusion that I have. We will never be close again, and that’s ok. I am just happy we were close at all. I wish them nothing but happiness. Maybe, in another life, we can be friends again. Or something else.

I miss my friend. I miss my ex-wife. I miss my fur babies. My ex-wife has blocked me on text and all social media. I haven’t seen my fur babies since May 2023 if I had to guess off the top of my head. I could talk about how I, in hopes of maintaining a civil relationship/possible friendship with my ex-wife gave into too many of her requests and worked around her whims too much after the separation, but I don’t want to go into detail about that. We will never talk again now that the divorce has been finalized… and that’s ok. I can mourn it. I’m allowed. But it’s a wound that doesn’t truly heal. Like when you break your leg when you’re older: it heals, but it’s never the same. I write this in my bed alone in pain. I am always alone now. At least in a proximal sense. I haven’t been outside my house in over a month. I eat just to survive most days, not out of any sense to savor or find pleasure in it. I am lonely, I am depressed, and I am going to die alone.

I’m tired of putting myself out there. I’m tired of swiping on dating apps and having a million conversations about the same thing and same interests only for them to eventually ghost me when I ask to meet up. I am choosing to see the blessings I do have and be thankful: housing, food, online friends I talk to on a semi-regular basis, writing, and games and other enrichment. Not everyone has that.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t mourn the domesticity of going grocery shopping, of hyping your partner up when they come out of the dressing room looking fine as heck in those pants, cooking together, doing chores while listening to the same thing (usually a YouTube essay or a podcast)… and all the other stuff I miss about living with my ex-wife. I miss the funny text messages we would send to each other, some of them are even memorialized on this Tumblr. I miss having a person and them having me. I miss how we could just look at each other and communicate full sentences. I miss her laughter. She had a great smile. One time we were at Hobby Lobby (ew, I know) and she took out one of those comically large roses and I took a picture of her smiling with one. It was her contact photo in my phone for years and I think it still is. I’m not going to check. I miss coloring her tattoo on her back with markers. I miss bleaching/dyeing each other’s hair. I miss going on long random drives and inevitably getting to long, deep discussions in a parking lot. Usually it was the Baker’s parking lot. I miss going to the grocery store at like 1 am, both of us sick out of our minds and in some state of delirium we see an end cap of blue Gatorade on sale and one of us shout BLUE, YOU LOVE BLUE. I forgot who said the famous line, but it became an inside joke. I miss giggling about stupid shit.

I miss her.

I miss her.

I miss her.

I think she was the love of my life. I’m probably still in love with her, despite my best efforts. My life isn’t the same without her, and I don’t just mean simply because I’m alone now and have basically no local friends. I’m not the same. I have changed, I have grown, my body has attempted to heal the hole she has left in my heart, but all it can manage it try to grow over it. It’s never been filled. It never will be. Nobody can fill it but her. And that’s… okay. That’s life, right? That’s a lost love. Numerous people go through this. I am not special to have experienced love lost.

I will not be awarded the same experience with the person I love in Scotland. I’m not even sure I should accept it if offered. I don’t know if I, someone who has fumbled a love so badly, should be trusted with another person’s heart. I don’t want to hurt anyone again.

So I will lock myself away and rot in my bed until I die.

I can’t hurt anyone from inside a cage.

[severingt]

Michelle

I dont think of myself as a nice guy, I prefer to be a good guy. I strive towards this as I think nice guys just get shat on.

So, in 2013 I went to Jamaica and met Michelle. I actually stayed at her place and we shared an appreciation of alcohol. During my time there, Michelle took me to see her friend at Hart training which I think was a government body. A waste of time as the woman there asked me to send my CV and ideas when I got back to UK, which I did and am still awaiting a reply some 8 years later.

Anyway, Michelle wanted to use her place, Michelles Great House, for training in the area that I work in, Management, CPD etc. So there have been a number of false starts and last time I thought if this doesnt happen then I'm not bothering. It didnt

However, I went back on that as the new idea involved her sister and a new venue which she had recently built with her husband, John.

So, I was asked to put something together which basically was like a job application to show what I can bring to the table. So, once again, I bit and produced this:

How to be part of it

The two areas that we discussed:

Customer Service

Change Management

A little about Coaching too

We discussed Taster Sessions to provide Management buy-in; so, like a sales pitch. These sessions might be of 2hrs max. duration. They may have to be a Loss-Leader to start with until we become the Partner of Choice for organisations. It then becomes arguable whether we would need them.

Briefly discussed follow-up sessions; for example, Basic to Advanced or maybe better phrasing would be Practitioner to Master Class?

So, the H/W set was:

How can I be part of it?

Do I want to be part of it?

Yes, I want to be part of it, after 8 years of planning; I think this might be the time when it comes together.

So, the ‘How’ really comes down to what you need and can I provide that. So, the next section is going to read like a CV [Resume for any Canadians readingJ].

I am internationally mobile; I’m not tied to any one country; so, Jamaica and Canada pose no problems. I have an Irish [EU] passport so I can easily access those countries if ever we needed to

I have experience of writing courses to Awarding Body standards and to bespoke guidelines

I have experience of working with Awarding Bodies to create accredited courses and conform to their quality standards

I am skilled in writing for self and for other trainers to deliver

Experience in many sectors:

Government [UK and internationally]

Work-Related

Management

Offender

Initial Teacher Training

Experience of planning class / training room layout to optimise learning experience

I have an Assessor Qualification which allows me to perform graded observations on other trainers [if needed] and ensure quality of provision

I can oversee the physical provision:

Hardware

Need to have / nice to have

Training room layout

The intellectual provision [offer]:

To write and resource courses

Delivery to a high standard

Ensuring quality and standardisation between events and trainers

To perform course interviews

To coach participants

Money:

The profit is in repeats as there are no R&D costs

Value-Addedness or better Enrichment activities shouldn’t cost a lot. So, in-house activities more than field trips? If we thought that these could be an option when booking probably managers would not take them up to keep their costs down; so, they should be just ‘what we do’ our USP if you like.

So, what are we going to pay ourselves? I remember researching this some years ago and I found that top trainers were commanding a daily fee of £1000+ [about 1700 Canadian]. Please don’t think that’s what I want but we have to come to a figure that we can all live with whilst supporting a healthy company.

Further Thoughts:

Since the meeting I’ve been thinking about Train the Trainer courses of various duration Note, I have 2-day courses, 3-week courses ready to run [both C&G courses but we can adapt]

Coaching Skills might be an avenue worth exploring as a short course

Crucially, for quality purposes at least, everyone that is client-facing should receive training in Presentation Techniques, so we are all singing from the same hymn sheet. There can be nothing that undermines a company more than a client talking to one of us and then getting a different answer from someone else in the company. So, professionalism really.

Is this what you wanted?

Questions:

How long do you want the courses to be?

Group size [ultimately this will determine cost to individual / organisation]

What will our commitment be timewise? We talked a little about this but it’ll probably remain a grey area until we know how successful we are

Consider creating an organisational chart

“If it’s not fun, it’s not worth doing” – some Irish guy, 2024

So, I sent it to them and waited. Then I asked whether that was what they wanted and I got back 'Partially'. She said she wanted to start in January

So, we had a few more meetings and I told her that my lease was coming to an end mid-October and I need to know whether we're going ahead or what as I could put my stuff in storage or find a new place here in Thailand

12th September I was told that her sister was coming to Jamaica and they would talk and come to a good decision. The weekend came and went, my birthday [16th] came and went without any message. so I left it for 2 weeks and still nothing. So, I found a new property and put a 22,000 baht deposit on it to move in 15th October.

I'm not angry with Michelle, I'm just disappointed in me falling for it again. Hope will kill you. But, I'm retired. I was coming out of retirement for this project. I dont need it

But I really wont be falling for any of this again. I'm sure I'll get a call in December asking me when I'm coming. Oh, well.

[justtluffythings]

HOME: Book 8 - CHAPTER FOUR

MASTERLIST

October 19, 1991

Dear Charlie,

I know, I know. He can definitely be picky with who he likes, and he seems to really like Draco. No surprise there as he’s a Slytherin, though I’m still not a fan. Draco’s been picking on the other first-years, including Ron and Harry, and I’m not happy about it. I found them arguing in the Entrance Hall the other day, and I had to step in. I feel like I constantly need to keep my eyes on those three.

You know which professor is really strange though? Quirrell. Ever since he came back from his sabbatical and took over the DADA class, he’s been acting so weird. I don’t know what happened to him while he was gone, but it really messed him up. I’m worried there’s something seriously wrong with him.

Oh! And guess what I forgot to mention in my last letter? Harry’s been made the new Gryffindor Seeker! Can you believe that? In his first year! He’s a natural on a broom, and McGonagall and Wood both think he may turn out to be even better than you. I may be a bit biased; I don’t think anyone can be better than you, but he is very good. I sat in on one of their practices, and he’s great. With him on the team, Gryffindor will give Ravenclaw a run for their money, that’s for sure. I’m interested to see how it plays out. We’ll see.

Hagrid’s been asking about you a lot too. To both me and Ron. I really wouldn’t be surprised if he comes to visit you in Romania at some point, y’know. He’ll say it’s to see you, but it’ll really be an excuse to see the dragons haha.

Ron’s been doing great, don’t worry. He’s paying attention in his classes… Well, in my class at least, I don’t know about the rest. Y’know, I’ve been seating him next to Hermione; I think they would be so cute together, but they don’t seem to be getting along at all. He and Harry haven’t been the nicest to her, and it’s quite sad. I was always so lucky to have you… I hope she finds her people soon.

Anyway, how are the dragons!?! You’ve been working with them for a week now. Do you love it as much as you thought you would?

Miss you loads,

Veronica

***

October 27, 1991

Dear Ronnie,

The Malfoy boy is bullying my brother? Do I need to send a letter to Dumbledore? Or McGonagall? Maybe to Percy… he’s the oldest now, he’s meant to be watching over our brothers. I’m not okay with this at all.

Really? Quirrell? Didn’t he have a run in with vampires during his travels? Do you think they might have messed with his mind? I’m just concerned that Dumbledore would bring him in to teach if he isn’t well.

Oh wow, that’s impressive. I’ve never known McGonagall to break rules for anyone, so the fact that she did for Harry… our Seeker options must not have been very good this year. Or he really is as good as they say. I hope he pushes our team forward, we can’t keep losing to Ravenclaw!

Haha you tell Hagrid he’s welcome here anytime, no matter what his reasons are. Everyone always talks so highly of him anytime they find out I went to Hogwarts. He really did supply the sanctuary with so many great dragonologists.

I was lucky to have you too, love. And Hermione’s lucky to have you. I’m sure she’ll find her people, even if it isn’t my brother. I don’t think you need to play matchmaker. They’ll find their way just like we did.

Ronnie… I can’t even tell you how amazing it’s been working with the dragons. It’s everything I ever wished for and more. Seeing them up close in all their glory, it’s incredible. I already got burned a few times, but it’s worth it. I love this bloody job! They’ve started us with some of the friendlier dragons to start, so I’ve been working very closely with a baby Welsh Green, creatively named Greeny. She’s adorable, but baby dragons grow so quickly. Even just over the last two weeks, she’s gotten so much bigger than when I first started working with her. But it’s so nice to see her learning and growing and coming into her own. She’s like a human baby, it’s so cute.

Tell me how the Halloween Feast is! By the time you get this and answer, it will have happened already, and I’m jealous. This is the first Halloween in seven years I’m away from Hogwarts… and from you, and I hate it. It’s so strange. Make sure to eat a lot of Treacle Tart for me, yeah?

Miss you more,

Charlie

[aliypop]

Anyway You Want Me: Chapter 1

Word Count: 2,600

Writers Note: This story is just an au of what if my Oc and Elvis met in high school instead of the Louisana Hayride

Warning: None so far except for language and historic language

Pairing: OC x Elvis

Plot: 1953 Memphis Tennessee Cecelia Valmos and her mother move to Shelby County as their house in Nashville is going through renovations, when asked to keep a low profile by her mother Cecelia makes friends with the quirkiest, shy, yet charming kid in class, at least Friends is what she'd call them.

Memphis May 1953

The spring winds of Memphis blew as a pink Chevrolet Bel Air parked in the parking lot of Humes High School. A place where this one particular student knew she wouldn't belong. Getting her books from the back seat, she dusted off her skirt. Looking at her watch, she was almost late for her day of school, and she couldn't be late, or it would set the first impression of herself and the last. The hustle and bustle of everyone was different from when she lived in Georgia, in which everything was a bit slow-paced, and there were a few faces that looked like hers, but here it seemed she was the only face that well looked like hers, and the glares she was getting defined that. Her saddle shoes kept walking down the hall until she found her homeroom. Taking a deep breath, she continued inside until all eyes were on her. Whispers all around the classroom, some of the students pointing and laughing at her, 

"Class..."

"Class..."

"CLASS!" The room was silent, "Class, I want everyone to meet Cecelia Valmos. She's our new student, Welcome..." 

"Thank you. You know a fun fact about myself is I like comics and-"

"Now attendance." 

Cecelia sat in the back of the Class, where a few students had glared at her as if she carried the fleas. Tapping her fingers, Cecelia could tell this would be a stressful time. And she couldn't wait to move to Nashville. 

As the bell rang, Cecelia went to her first Class of the day, Which was arithmetic, her least favorite. But very well needed. At least, it was what Midge told her. Taking her seat in the back, Cecelia had begun to read her Batman comic book. Other students filled the room, talking and chattering as she flipped the page on the Joker's crazy antics. 

"You're late..."

"S-S-Sorry, I ain't mean to be late, I just..."

" Lost track of time, Mr. Presley." The teacher sighed, following his gaze as his eyes landed on the tawny-skinned girl who had dark brown hair that curled up in a tall style. 

"Take your seat, Mr. Presley..."

Sitting next to Cecelia was a kid who had to be about her age. She couldn't tell, and she didn't want to ask. He had blondish brown hair and fading black roots, and he smelled like shoe polish. He also had rolled-up jeans and loafers with pink socks, the same color as hers. 

"Is that the 3-D edition..."

"Yeah, it is..." Cecelia kept reading,

"I-I've been tryin to find that one for weeks." 

"Found it at a comic shop in Chattanooga." she huffed. She wasn't annoyed that he was talking to her, just while she was reading her comics. 

"Am I botherin you, doll..."

"A little, and I'm not your-" Cecelia looked up, seeing eyes bluer than James Dean's and a cute but crooked smile that seemed so shy yet so sweet, "Sorry, I'm new here, and it's stressful, and I don't have any friends an-" 

"Mind if I be your friend..."

"I don't mind ah..."

"Elvis Presley... But u-uh, most everyone calls me, well no one calls me anything cept for Red West, who calls me E..."

"Well, I'll call you Pres." She smiled, "I'm Cecelia Valmos, by the way." she winked at him as he blushed a little, 

"I'll call you Cece..." he tried to wink back at her, but his hair got in his eyes. Cecelia giggled a bit, "I like it." she grinned. Elvis could feel his heart beat faster, trying to push the emotions aside as he looked into her hazel eyes. Finally, he might not have been so alone in the world. 

"So, favorite superhero..."

"Easy, Jay Garrick," she smirked, "What about you?"

"Captain Marvel Jr." he grinned, "Sometimes I imagine myself as him."

"Flying to the rock of eternity ..." Cecelia smiled at him,

"Yeah."

"I used to think I was the Flash until I bumped into a wall." she snorted a bit when she laughed, and she could hear the teacher clearing her throat. Cecelia mouthed sorry as she went back to take her notes. 

"Do you understand any of that..."

"Nope..." Cecelia laughed, 

The bell rang again as they got up and went to the next Class. Elvis and Cecelia were walking side by side, still talking, 

"I love the color pink. My car is pink!"

"No way!"

"It's a Bel Air." she winked, 

" You're too cool for me, Cece." He joked as Cecelia nudged him, 

"Honestly, I'm just me." she shrugged, "Say, would you care to eat lunch with me?

"Yeah, sure, I ain't got much but-"

"You can have some of my lunch." 

"I couldn't."

"I usually don't eat it all." 

"You sure?"

Sitting alone at the table were Cecelia and Elvis, who were both enjoying the sandwiches her mother made. "So, how was your first day here so far."

"Eh, crappy..." she sighed, 

"The bullies stop eventually." He sighed as Cecelia looked over at him,

"Easy for you to say, I got called a teacher's pet 'cause I knew all the answers in my history class... Not my fault some of us read for fun." she mumbled to herself, "Or in my typing class, I typed over several words a minute, and yet I'm wrong... Well, excuse me for writing songs when I'm bored!" she began to get angry as Elvis looked at her. 

"At least you've passed your typing lessons on the first day." He joked, "I got a C in that, which ain't bad..."

"But it's not good, Pres." she looked at him. 

"Well, maybe you could tutor me." 

"To type? Sure." she smiled, splitting her candy bar with him. 

When the day was over, Cecelia went to her car as she saw Elvis walk to his. "Nice 41 Lincoln!" she waved as she was next to her pink beauty. It suited her well. He thought to himself as she got in, 

"See you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah!"

Dinner was on the table, and Cecelia was doing her homework as her mother was on the phone with the electric company. This move was a headache, especially with her mother having an album on the way, Cecelia adjusting, and this house being temporary. It was driving her up a wall. 

"I made a friend today-"

"Cecelia, I'm on hold..." 

"Right..." She continued to do her homework as she took a deep breath and sighed. 

"Mama!" Elvis nearly ran into his family apartment like a whirlwind. It had been a while since Gladys had seen him so happy after school, like a puppy waiting for a treat. 

"Elvis!"

"Pa! You'll never believe what I made in school today." he grinned as Vernon was about to guess. "A friend. Well, I think she's a friend. We shared a sandwich together, and I think she's giving me one of her comics to read-" 

Gladys chuckled. Vernon perked up. Some special girl if he was going on and on about her like this. To Gladys, it sounded like he had a crush on her. 

"So I assume you'll be staying up in class more."Gladys scolded him playfully.

"And paying attention." Vernon glanced at him as Elvis blushed and nodded, 

"Of course." 

The next day, all the students were back in homeroom, and Cecelia was in the back, dreaming away about her new friend and what they'd talk about that day. That was until a group of girls came behind her and pulled her hair. Cecelia only sighed as she tried to ignore them. It wasn't like she didn't get a note in her locker that said Stay away. Well, words she'd rather not repeat. Yes, this would be a tough couple of months. She just had to make it to, 

"Oh shit..." 

Her eyes caught on several kids running with scissors in their hands. 

"Come here, fairy!" one kid shouted,

"Long-haired freak!"

"Oh, please don't let it be..."

"PRES!" Cecelia shouted, standing up, eyes on her as she grabbed her books, "Ent and I have to go use the girl's room... really, uh, quickly." storming out of the classroom, Cecelia quickly tried to follow the rest of the kids. They had Elvis cornered, with no room to escape, and there was fear in his eyes as if he'd been on death row. 

"Maybe we'll cut off those flashy clothes next." It was no secret Elvis craved the fashion of Beale Street, but it wasn't a secret that everyone else at his school hated it, let alone hated him. He could feel the blades get close to his hair, and he closed his eyes and prayed until he heard a voice say. 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" 

Elvis looked at the crowd as he saw Red West and behind him Cecelia. 

"Or what!"

"You'll answer to my fist..." Cecelia glared at one of the boys. What was she thinking was the main thing Red and Elvis were thinking. 

"Your fist aint gonna do nothing cause you're just a nig-"

POW!

The students scurried, dropping everything they had to torture Elvis. Shaking her wrist, she looked back at the two guys and sighed. She probably made it worse, and the principal would call her mother, and then there'd be a commotion about it all. 

"Where'd you learn to throw a punch like that."

"My mother taught me." Cecelia shrugged, looking at Red,

"Some mother..." Red nodded until they both saw Elvis shaking like a leaf. 

"El!" Cecelia ran over, "Are you okay? Do you need to go home? Do you wanna stay at my home..." she offered, but Elvis stood up, shook it off, and tried to laugh even though he wanted to cry and scream and yell,

 "Cece, Red, I'm fine..." 

"E, yer tremblin." 

"Like a leaf, Pres..."

"I'M FINE!"

 Cecelia approached him, "We're just worried, is all..."

"At least let us walk you to class." Red offered as Elvis nodded. 

"So then Superman catches him in the water!" Cecelia said as the three were walking down the hallway,

"You're spoilin' it, Cece." Elvis groaned, 

"Well, I have a TV if y'all ever wanna come by and watch it." her southern accent escaped her as Elvis had a slight blush on his cheeks. 

"Or we could go to the drive-in!" Cecelia then said as Elvis's eyes wide. He's only ever been a third wheel to the drive-in, mooching off his friend's french fries and whatnot. 

"I think I'd leave that up to you two," Red said as Elvis had short-circuited. Walking to their English Class, Elvis had taken in the charm of Cecelia. She was a big ball of mystery who was protective, loyal, and stood up for him after only knowing him for a day. She was kind enough to share her sandwich with him, and she was pretty to look at in her pink gingham dress. But this wasn't how you thought about a friend. Besides, he was Elivs, the weird kid with a guitar. 

"Since it's Friday, what'cha got planned for the weekend?" 

"Well, work, but I'm off at 3 p.m."

"Well, I'm still new in town, so... maybe you could show me around Beale Street or comic shops you like to go to. Or record stores. I love those!" she began to ramble on as he laughed, her stomach doing small butterflies at the sound of it,

"We can do all of that," he bumped her shoulder as she bumped his back. 

"That would be great," Cecelia smiled, "Oh! You'll need my number. So you can call." Things were looking up for Elvis. He had gotten her number. And he got to hang out with her. It wasn't a date, but it sure enough was something. Besides, he spent his weekends playing football, fixing his car, or on Beale Street. Now, he wouldn't have to be alone doing it.

When school was out for the day, Cecelia rushed to her car with a now-popped tire. Oh, how kids are so cruel, but that still didn't stop Cecelia. Going to the back of her car, she rolled the spare tire until she remembered that Midge had taken the tire kit with her. Elvis walked out with Red West, talking to him about his weekend plans, and then he saw Cecelia, who looked like a pinup girl in a calendar posing with a tire, "A little help here..." She sighed, watching some of her peers walk by, 

"Could you help me here... And they walked off." Cecelia huffed until she saw Elvis, 

"Not bother you, but..."

"I caught a flat last week." Popping open his trunk, he took out the jack. "How'd this happen."

"Those bullies you were talkin about..." she gritted her teeth,

"Don't let 'em get to ya, Cece. Which ain't easy to do," he sighed as he fixed her tire, "Just breathe an Imagine the good Lord pickin' 'em off one by one." Cecelia laughed hard as Elvis laughed with her,

 "Morbid, but it helps." Cecelia grinned, "Say, call me when you get home so I know you're safe, okay."

"Cece, I'll be fine." Those hazel eyes pierced his soul in a glare, 

"Okay, okay, I will."

"Good, you better, or I'll find out where you live, and I'll!"

"You'll what." He smirked,

"Bug ya!" she smirked,

"Cece the phones for you," Denise said as Cecelia raced down the stairs, 

"Thank you, Mother." she winked, taking the phone as she took a deep breath, 

"Cecelia speaking,"

"It's me, Elvis, we're still on for tomorrow ." 

"You bet we are!" Cecelia grinned, "Do you wanna meet at your job or a restaurant or-"

"My job is fine." Elvis said, "You can park your car in the front, and we'll take mine." 

"Sounds good. " she smiled, trying not to sound so giddy, "Oh, and El!" she said as if she forgot something, 

"Yeah, Cece?"

"I may have bought several volumes of Captain Marvel Jr."

"You gotta let me read 'em!" 

"Why do you think I bought 'em..." 

"Cece, you're the best." he grinned. 

"No, El, you're the best, " she smiled. If only he knew how much he was starting to mean to her, 

"Say, bring the comics. There's a diner in Beale Street we could read 'em at."

"Deal." 

"Cece, time to get off the phone."

"Let me guess your mama."

"Mhmm."

"Elvis Aaron Presley!

"Let me guess yours?"

"Yeah," 

"Well, Good night, El,"

"Night, Cece."

"So who was that," Denise asked as Cecelia smiled widely, her dimples on display, "Elvis, he's a friend from school, and he's showing me around town tomorrow." Denise only laughed a little at her daughter's reaction. She was definitely happy to see that something made her smile since they moved to Memphis. "And is this Elvis cute..." Denise asked as Cecelia blushed a bit, embarrassed, 

"Mother!" her brown cheeks turning red, "We're just friends!"

"For now... After all, you and Anthony Rodgers were friends..."

"That was a poor judgment. Besides, Anthony's an actor." 

"Who pretended to love you to get to me." Her mother was right, but she knew that Elvis was different. Besides, he didn't know her secret. And she didn't plan for him to find out anytime soon either, 

"He's not like that."

"What's he like then."

"I don't fully know yet, but he's not that." Cecelia sighed,

"Just becareful tomorrow."

"I will, and you have fun getting daddy to do the electrical work for the studio." Cecelia mentioned as she walked up the stairs. 

That night, neither party could hardly fall asleep from the excitement of seeing each other,

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

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MORE TO COME IN CHAPTER 2!

[tt-writes]

My Anne

“Dad! Hey, dad!” my son Michael comes barging into my room.

This automatically sends me into panic mode because he never does that.

“What’s wrong Michael?” I spring off my bed.

“Nothing serious,” he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. “Just that it’s been long since you told me a bedtime story. I miss them,” he grins.

Is this boy drunk? I squint my eyes at him for a second before sitting next to him.

“Michael, you’re nineteen. It’s been almost ten years since I last read you a bedtime story.”

“I may be nineteen, but the age gap between the both of us is still the same,” he smirks.

Snarky. He gets that from his mother.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to do this, where can I get such a book for someone your age?”

“Oh, you don’t need a book for this story.”

The look on his face worries me. What’s he got going on in that head of his?

“What story?”

“One you’re very familiar with,” he smiles. “The story of how you and mom met.”

Wow. He’s been consistently persistent with hounding me for this story since he was a child.”

“Michael…okay, later.”

“How much later? I have to wait another ten years? Come on dad! Mom always said later too and, well-.”

“Okay, I’ll tell it to you tonight.”

“No, I want to hear it right now.”

“But it’s not yet your bedtime,” I smirk.

“Then let’s call it a daytime story,” he moves into the bed, making himself more comfortable.

The persistence kicks in again. That, fortunately or unfortunately, he gets from me.

I let out a sigh so heavy I almost yawn, “Fine.”

I was twelve years old and my parents and I had just moved into town. Initially, I was upset about the whole move because I was leaving everything and everyone I knew behind. In fact, I don’t think I spoke to my parents the whole drive here.

I smile, remembering my childish antics.

My mood was pretty sour until the next day when I was being driven to my new school and I saw this girl riding her bike in our direction. This girl, with her hair in a ponytail and eyes focused on nothing but the road. So pretty from the first glance.

I watch the growing smile on his face.

That girl was Jane.

He frowns.

Just kidding. She was Anne, your mother.

I’m not a believer of love at first sight but I certainly felt something strong for her in that moment. As the distance between us grew, she vanished from my sight but not from my mind. Even as I walked into my class, she was the only thing on my mind. Till date, I don’t remember introducing myself to the class, but I was told I did. All I remember is wondering if I’d ever see her again.

It didn’t take long for that question to be answered as I saw her walk into class and sit right in front of me.

You know, I was a very imaginative child so at that moment I kind of panicked. I wondered if I had unlocked a stronger and more visual level of imagination. I didn’t. She was right there, chatting with some girls in the class.

I think she must have felt the intensity of my gaze on her because she immediately turned and smiled at me. For a second, my face was numb and I forgot how to smile. Till date, I don’t know if that was due to the anxiety of being around new people in a new environment or it was all her.

After that smile, it was smooth sailing. Everything flowed, our conversations, jokes, everything. Connecting with your mother was the easiest thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so natural.

Before I moved, I’d never known how to ride a bike nor was I really interested in learning, but a week in the town, seeing Anne living just across the street, got me thinking. What sealed the deal was when she herself suggested we ride together. Man, it took me two days to fully learn how to ride a bike. I was naturally a slow learner-

“You still are.”

“Be careful.”

Anyway, I was naturally a slow learner but I made sure I did whatever it took to learn quickly. I even starved myself for hours just to avoid wasting time.

By the third week, I was comfortable enough to ride long distances and we were riding to school together.

Our friendship blossomed so beautifully in such a short amount of time that I felt I’d always known her and I’m sure she felt the same way about me. I went from hating the move to thanking my parents every day for it.

Three months later, my mother bought our neighbour’s house which was up for sale and went straight into reconstruction. About a month and a half later, her dream of owning a bakery became reality. Plus, business was booming because it was one of only three bakeries in town, and the only one in this area.

The bakery became the place where your mother and I would spend all our time. We’d be there after school, on the weekends, holidays. It even got to the point that mom had to teach us how to bake because we just couldn’t occupy space freely every day. From those baking lessons, even before I fully mastered the art, I decided that I’d be a baker when I was older. Your mother, on the other hand, was, without a doubt, certain she’d be a doctor.

“Then how did she end up as a baker too? Did she end up loving it so much?”

I break into a hearty fit of laughter remembering what caused her change of profession. I swear Anne’s one of a kind. Such a character.

“I’m getting to that.”

Mother did an excellent job training us. It was so excellent that by the time we were fifteen, we were handling sixty percent of the orders, eighty-five during the holidays. Mother would leave us in the bakery for hours, only checking in from time to time.

It was during that alone time, watching your mother so focused on every little detail and how careful she was, how naturally everything came to her, how happy she got after a successful bake, that I started falling. Or, at least, that’s when I became aware of the budding feelings I had for her.

From the moment of that realisation, I didn’t put into words what it was but my actions showed and she caught on because the dynamics of our relationship changed. We weren’t doing what normal, platonic friends do. We weren’t kissing or anything but it was clear in the way we related that something was up.

Whatever budding thing we had going on was cut short when my parents’ lives were claimed in that accident.

I pause, trying to stay calm and collected, visualising a 16year old me being so confused and scared after receiving the news of a car accident so tragic his parents’ bodies burnt to flames in it. The only form of identification left was the number plate.

But no, let’s not go back to that place.

I had to step up. I had to handle the business full-time. Of course, handling the business full-time was already part of the plan, but it came sooner than expected. Either way, life gave me lemons and I had to make lemonade.

Your mother was so helpful during that period of my life. She took on the responsibility of handling all my orders and never even got a penny for herself. Man, she did so much for me, worked day and night, seven days a week, while I just had random breakdowns. I got a hold of myself when I saw how everything was wearing her down. I felt selfish. What’s worse is she never complained. But when the news that she had been accepted into medical school came, I knew things had to change. She wanted to reject it because of me and I couldn’t have that. She always talked about how much she wanted to be a doctor and I wasn’t going to let her throw that away for me. No, I wasn’t.

It was hard, but I had to cut off all communication I had with her because that was the only way she’d do what was best for her.

So, I decided to take a week off and visit my uncle back in my old city. But before leaving, I changed the locks to my house and bakery because she had a copy of the originals, and left her a note by my doorstep telling her to go to medical school and forget about me. I also changed my phone number once I left town.

“Damn dad, that was cruel.”

“I thought I was doing what was best for her.”

By the time I got back, she’d left. But she too, left me a note, mostly containing insults but in summary, she never wanted to see me again. I was honestly taken aback by that because I never knew your mother to be vulgar. In fact, she had never uttered a single swear word in my presence. But boy, that note showed me alright. I should have realised, at that moment, just how much I hurt her.

The years went by and I never saw her. I knew she purposely stayed in school during the holidays to avoid me and it hurt. Her parents would always come up with a story as to why she wasn’t coming back but they were never good liars. Eventually my feelings for her got buried so deep I actually thought they weren’t there anymore.

The bakery was doing really well. Really, really well. I was proud of myself. And it wasn’t only mine, so were the other two. It’s like everyone in the town suddenly got onboard the pastry train.

Because of this, the mayor started sponsoring our famous pastry baking competition during the Christmas tree lighting ceremony.

I always won the competition thanks to your grandmother’s yummy recipes. Recipes that only your mother and I had.

Then suddenly, one day, your mother came back, all her luggage with her. I spotted her through the window of the bakery and was shocked because it wasn’t the holidays. My shock grew when weeks went by and she was still around, not looking like she’d be leaving anytime soon. I started wondering if she’d completed her course but I was so sure she had two years left.

What was going on?

That question was answered in a surprising yet funny-well it’s now funny-turn of events when I heard she’d rented one of the bakeries. I didn’t even know it was up for rent, and it was the one closest to mine, three blocks away.

And I found out about that when one of my customers one day made a comment about how that bakery made pastries that tasted like mine but better.

In his words, “Oh, you have to taste some of the pastries from A’s Bakery because they make it seem like those are the originals and yours, the cheap knockoffs.”

Obviously, I was confused because I didn’t know what A’s Bakery was since, the last, I knew, it was ‘Tastes Like Home’.

So, what did I do? I marched down there to see what was going on. What did I find? Your mother.

The brief eye contact we shared sent shivers down my spine. I should have realised at that moment that my feelings for her never died, but another feeling took over and overshadowed them. Anger. I was so angry with her for using my mother’s recipes as her own. Of course, my mother taught them to both of us but I’m sure if she knew we’d turn out like this, she’d have taught them to me alone.

I marched up to her front and looked her dead in the eyes, “What’s this about?”

“What’s what about?” she looked so oblivious, a superpower of hers.

“You’re passing off my recipes as yours,” I said.

“Our recipes, you mean,” she smirked.

“MY,” my blood was hot.

Now I’m realising it was hot from how close we were standing in that instance.

“Come on Jay, you know I do more justice to these recipes than you have and ever will.”

That’s not a truth I was happy to hear.

“Just stop using my recipes or I’d have to report you,” I started walking out.

“Did you copyright them?” she laughed.

That’s when the battle line was drawn.

A battle that I was constantly defeated in woefully. She didn’t only come for a lot of my customers, but also came for my title as the champion of the pastry baking competition, year after year.

My bakery was doing pretty badly and I was on the verge of closing it down. In fact, I was one meeting away from selling it.

My pride was in the mud.

And at that moment, my anger had subsided and I was just genuinely hurt. I started wondering how such a close relationship could end up the way it did. That was when I realised the feelings were still there. Because only she had the power to hurt me so bad, and despite it, I wished her only the best.

So, not only was my business failing, I was also heartbroken. What was left was for me to sell the property, rent out the house and move back to my old city. I spent the few days before the meeting packing and taking walks to all the places Anne and I would visit as children. On the night before the meeting, I sat on the bakery floor and cried my eyes out. I was about to sell my mother’s dream and a place that held so many memories for Anne and I.

The next day was, one word, ‘woah’. I wore my best suit and went to our meeting place early, which was the park down the road. The roads were full because it was the beginning of the tree lighting festival but I wasn’t participating that year, obviously.

 It was going to be my first time meeting the person since I’d earlier dealt with a middle man.

I got to the park and saw Anne sitting at our spot and she turned to me with glint of sadness in her eyes. The same glint she had looked at me with when I was grieving my parents. My heart broke and I fell to my knees in front of her. I just wanted her to hug me like she used to. I wanted to go back to when we were kids.

She knelt down too and my arms just enveloped her, my body feeling electric shots at the points where her hands landed on my back. I took in her scent completely, knowing it was possibly the last time I’d ever get to do so.

“Why did you cut me off?” she finally spoke.

“I didn’t want you to throw your dreams away because of me. I’d have never forgiven myself.”

“We could have talked.”

I broke the hug, held on to her shoulders and looked into her eyes, “You are very stubborn.”

“True,” she laughed, tears falling down her eyes. “But I felt so hurt. I thought you were being unfair and honestly, I was upset that you were giving up on us. The latter is what hurt me the most. I really thought we had something we were building.”

“We did,” I wiped her tears. “And I screwed up.”

“You didn’t,” she wiped off tears from my face that I wasn’t even aware were there. “I understand where you were coming from.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No, I’m sorry. I could have come during the holidays but I didn’t. I just decided to completely forget you, but that was hard because my parents constantly talked about you.”

We both chuckled.

“But what happened with med school and why the bakery?” I asked.

“By the second year, I realised that being a doctor wasn’t my dream. I convinced myself I wanted to be one because my parents always said I’d make an amazing doctor when I was a child. I tried to endure but I could only manage three more years until I finally decided to go for my happiness,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“And the bakery?”

“When I dropped out, I started thinking of what I’d do next and after a lot of self-introspection, I remembered how happy I was whenever I baked with you and your mom. Baking never felt like a job to me so I decided to give it a shot. I wanted nothing but to run across the street and tell you I want to work with you but I was scared. So, I convinced old Mr. Philip to rent me his bakery since he wasn’t making much from it anymore. I honestly didn’t plan to take business away from you but the way you treated me the day you walked into my bakery, it hurt. I expected you to congratulate me or hug me since it was our first meeting in years.”

“I’m sorry. I genuinely am and I wish I could turn back the hands of time and do things differently, but I guess I made my bed and I should lie in it. Anyway, you probably have to prepare for the competition so I won’t waste more of your time. Let’s get to it. I have, here, all the paperwork we need to sign.

I thought it’d be better to stop reminiscing to avoid making it harder for myself.

She stood up, extending her hands for me to get up with her, and a grin formed across her face, “I was actually thinking of proposing a partnership. What do you think?”

“Well, I bet you can tell what happened after,” I say.

“Wow,” Michael’s voice cracks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, dad,” he clears his throat.

“Okay, it’s getting late, so quickly get ready and let’s take your mom her flowers. You know I don’t like visiting the graveyard in the dark.”

The End.

[lilygreyham]

Fundamentals 1: Week 11 Homework

17th May

Children's Nursery Rhyme book PART 1

Alrighty, so our final assignment for this Fundamentals Software class was to create a 12 page A5 document on InDesign (and use Illustrator as well) as a book of 5 (or more) nursery rhymes/ children's songs or children's stories. The layout of the book is as follows: Page 1 = Front Cover with the title "Children's Songs" or whichever book is chosen. This can be with or without illustrations Page 2 & 3 = End pages Page 4 = Contents page Pages 5 - 9 = The songs, stories, nursery rhymes Pages 10 + 11 = End pages Page 12 = Back Cover

(I apologise, I didn't leave myself enough time to discuss how I made these pages or even finish the book but I have collected all over my screenshots and images to show the processes I went through for the pages that I managed to complete)

I decided to do children's nursery rhymes for my book. The nursery rhymes I chose were: Hey Diddle Diddle The Itsy Bitsy Spider Twinkle Twinkle Little Star This Little Piggy I'm a Little Teapot

Here's a brief explanation of what I did

For the Hey Diddle Diddle page I knew the sort of setting it had which was at night and on some rolling hills (from childhood memories anyway) so I created a background with a nice night sky gradient and a couple green hills. I wanted to do illustrations of the characters used in the story. I found this create illustration (below) and decided to trace the characters to use in my book.

First and by far the easiest was the dish and the spoon. I used a red stroke as I thought black would be too hard to see while tracing. After finishing the trace I copy and pasted it onto my A5 file where I had created the background and I then filled these characters in with colour (will see at the end).

I then traced the cow.

The cat plating the fiddle.. these were definitely starting to become more complicated but I was actually going through the process fairly quickly and felt confident using the pen tool for detailed illustrations like this which felt great.

Last was the dog having a wee giggle.

Once I had finished the characters I went over them all with some colour and placed them all onto the A5 doc with the background. I also added some stars and a nice simple moon. Although I wasn't going to add text until I added this file onto InDesign I just wanted to see where the text could go and how it would look. I thought this looked pretty cute!

Next was Itsy Bitsy Spider, for this page I wanted to create a classic background of a drain pipe outside a house but thought I'd add a nice landscape in the background.

I found an illustration of a friendly-looking spider and added the file to Illustrator so I could trace around the image (shown below)