#it’s just big enough to always have somewhere to see and the neighbors are mostly friendly and visits are welcomed
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I love it when I go to someone’s post and the dash changes colors to match the person’s account theme. It feels like I’m visiting someone’s house and this is the welcome in before I check their profile to take my shoes off and come inside.
It’s like posts are little decorations people put out.
#queue#think about it#what’s that? I would love to come over#another reason I love this hellsite it feels like a little neighborhood#it’s just big enough to always have somewhere to see and the neighbors are mostly friendly and visits are welcomed#something that makes it better than real neighborhoods is you don’t just specifically have to be in one thing#you can have multiple different things like you can be in multiple places and not have to leave the neighborhood#if you can’t find a street for what you’re into? just start it yourself and people will slowly join#you can’t really get that on other sites#reblog#posts this and runs away
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GELPHIE NSFW HEADCANONS!!!!!!!!!!!
nsfw warning... clearly. men dni!!!
this is honestly just for me. feel free to throw tomatos at me.
CW: lesbians (ah!!!), mentions of tribbing, strap-on sex, oral sex, this honestly isnt very explicit, praise kink
Top Glinda Upland... obviously???
that is a DEVIOUS soft dom if ive ever seen one. She is a blatantly dominant presence, at the very LEAST she's a power bottom. I think she'd be open to laying back and receiving on her terms, but she says almost everything with complete confidence and is always expecting an obedient response; that is TOP behavior.
Bottom Elphaba Thropp... duh. DUH!!!
"top elphaba thropp!!" where. when I see that girl, I see A) the hottest being to ever grace this plain of existence and B) a girl with little life experience that is EAGER to please and learn. She likes knowing she's doing a good job, she likes being challenged - this girl is a dirty talk SPONGE. Ideally, I think she could test and learn things and maybe be a switch but wicked part 1 elphie? dont play.
dirty talk aka the thing all gelpie shippers can agree on
we all love their idiot banter, we know they'd never shut up while doing the dirty. what theyd SAY is the actual debate.
Elphie would say veeery little, only short responses/babbles or weak pleas, as well as a LOT of saying glinda's name. speaking of her.
"surely you can do better than that, miss elphaba."
"ah, ah, now, you know how to behave, darling."
If glinda's anything in bed, it's an asshole. I don't think she's CRAZY rough or sadistic but a secret third thing - a sensual, intimate, dick. She takes things slow and lets tension naturally build but always has SOMETHING to say. Like I said, Elphie would like both praise AND light scolding so if elphaba is taking it nice, it's praise, and if she's messy and unraveling, it's condescension. That is, unless glinda is unraveling as well, in which i think she'd praise... vulgarly. Rambling, thoughtless, lewd praise.
Intimacy Preferences!!
Glinda and elphaba are both definitely skin-on-skin lovers - tribbing, fingers, head - they have to feel eachother. Not only that, but I think glinda would adore the feminity in loving another girl with nothing more than their bodies. However, strap glinda holds LOOOOTS of potential.
she'd hate realistic dildos. with a passion. she hates the veins, natural color, everything. She definitely have just a simple bright pink one, I would NOT be surprised if it was deep in her luggage somewhere... or deep somewhere else...
elphaba would definitely be open to anything due to her lack of experience but, I think she'd see like a 4 inch dildo and start shaking about how "big" it is so it's definitely something theyd be discussing at LENGTH. get it. length. cock. the strap is decidedly 8 inches for anyone wondering.
adding on, I think elphie and glinda would mutually NEED to see eachother's face when strapping, the most they allow themselves is to bite down on a pillow while in missionary, making sure their eyes are almost always connected and visible. Their fave position is riding for this exact reason. sidenote: glinda would beg elphaba to sit on her face for head. no further comment.
aftercare!!!!
the praise does NOT stop after they're done - Glinda often can fill in the gaps on whether or not she's done a good job, Elphaba's state after fucking usually saying enough, but Elphie likes to be told that she did well, how good she was, all of it. Lots of pillowtalk once they're more coherent, mostly elphaba shyly admitting what she liked and glinda bluntly confessing how much she loved hearing elphaba's moans echo through their dorm. their neighbors hate them. elphie and glin are both very VERY verbal. I rest my case.
#gelphie#glinda upland#elphaba thropp#wicked#wicked movie#lesbian nsft#nsft headcanon#gelphie nsft#wlw nsft#headcanons#otter complottering
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♡ You Tell Selene You Only Want To Be Friends With Benefits ♡
(sorry I didn't write yesterday, I got high.)
You'd been sleeping with Selene for a solid year at that point, the longest anyone had ever managed to last when it came to sleeping with her, you supposed she just liked something about you in particular. You didn't mind though, she was an excellent hook up, wouldn't be a good relationship but since it was only sex you could ignore all the other red flags. You weren't her mate who would need to deal with all her issues one day and she'd made it clear you weren't dating when you first started, she was saving all that romance stuff for her mate but you could fuck occasionally if you didn't get too attached. Despite this it seemed lately she had been the one getting attached, growling when you left bed Monday morning to return to your nearby town, seeming antsy when she finally picked you up Friday night for your weekend of hooking up. It hadn't been a weekend at first, that would be too intimate but slowly she'd pushed it in what seemed like a desperate attempt to keep you longer.
"You should sleep at my place, then we'd be able to do it more frequently." She suggested one time, not saying moving in but you knew what she meant. You turned her down of course, this was just sex, you weren't going to get entangled with her. She'd started to sound less playful each time she suggested it after that, you shut that down reminding her that you were not her mate. She didn't say it again, instead only looking sullen and agitated when she picked you up on Fridays after that. Today she seemed more excited when you met her in her car, pulling you into a big hug.
"Hey Selene, I thought we agreed no PDA." You really didn't want anyone around you to ask you about her, it was already embarrassing enough they knew you were going to her place every weekend, despite being their goddess, she was not very well liked in werewolf territory. Beyond that those humans who did sleep with Selene were mostly looked down on since she was such a sleaze and had a mate out there somewhere. Your reputation took quite a hit at first when it became known.
"I discovered something amazing today, my little dove." She grinned down at you, something about it was making you nervous. She was always intense when she looked at you but today you felt like you had to get away from her. You'd end it today you decided. She'd broken her own rule by falling for you. "You're my soulmate!"
You shoved her away, as well as much you could at least, heaving as you tried to process that information. There was just no world in which you wanted to be with her long term, she was great for sex, you loved that part but she just came off as a horrible partner to have and you really didn't even want anything serious probably ever. You weren't into relationships.
"So that means you can move in now, dove." She tried to pull you closer but you dodged her arms eliciting a growl from her.
"I don't want to, I was only with you for sex!" You shouted drawing the attention of some of your more nosy neighbors who wanted to know why their goddess and a human were fighting. She let out a growl at that grabbing you and shoving you in her car with a bit more force then necessary.
"Well now we can do that more often! Don't worry, I'll forgive you for that outburst you just had." She climbed in the car after you beginning to undress you in the backseat. The windows were tinted so no one could probably see in but they all definitely knew what was happening in there.
You may have only wanted her for sex at the moment but she was sure you'd come around to her in general if she just fucked you good enough often enough.
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title: we close our eyes and dream (the world has turned around again)
in the year of our lord 2024 i wrote psych fic ... wow there was this hilarious list of reverse prompts floating around tumblr a little while ago and one of them, instead of high school au, was "nursing home au". something somewhere fundamental in my brain clicked and i thought "this would be perfect for shules. i just know it" and then after many years of being generally too terrified to try my hand at the very unique narrative flavour that is psych, i wrote this. title is from "we close our eyes" by the oingo boingos which plays over the final scene of the series finale and always makes me cry. i hope u enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
Juliet is sitting alone by the couches when she meets him.
They’re in the dining hall at Glorious Pines, and she’s chewing her lip and staring impotently at her fancy-looking plate of risotto. She hates that risotto is making her feel so weird and insecure. Dinner with Sarah was usually a lot simpler than this; Juliet has never really been a good cook, and her granddaughter was often too busy with work to manage anything more than a mis-mash of premade Trader Joe’s delicacies. Now she’s in this big beautiful building, surrounded by vibrant and dynamic old people who’ve been living here long enough to all know each other and have interesting hobbies and be in on the latest gossip. Juliet’s always loved making new friends, but the risotto is reminding her how out of practice she really is. Up until four days ago she had been taking her meals with Sarah, who’d moved Juliet to Santa Barbara in May so she wouldn’t be all alone in that old house of theirs. And before that – well, she’d been alone. Her hobbies have gotten progressively more old ladyish over the last five years, and while it’s true that she sewed her own pajamas while in her twenties, too, that wasn’t all she spent her time doing. She’s pretty sure her glamorous neighbors by the lemonade bowl who still have the guts to wear red lipstick won’t be too interested in her recent return – for nostalgia purposes only , and not because she likes solving the mysteries before the book does – to her ancient childhood box of Nancy Drew novels. And, gosh, the last time a man flirted with her was … oh, twenty years ago, now.
She’s pushing the sticky, fragrant rice around and trying not to think too hard about the prospect of socializing with strangers when he materializes into the armchair beside her.
The sudden and graceful materializing is on its own impressive, considering most of the residents of this place have had hip replacements.
“Oh – hello,” Juliet says, mostly just to be polite
“Hi!” says the man. “You’re in my seat.”
Juliet freezes with one spoonful of risotto finally halfway up to her mouth. She narrows her eyes at him from behind her bifocals. “Excuse me?”
“My seat,” he explains. “I was sitting right there. I had, in fact, just gotten up to go grab Gus some orange juice – you know Gus –” Juliet doesn’t “-- And now I am back, and, so, as you can see, that was my seat.”
Juliet blinks. He’s around her own age, early seventies, with a full head of thick grey hair, bright hazel eyes that crease liberally at the corners, no glasses, and a big nose that probably gave him a striking profile in his youth. He’s wearing a garish red polo shirt that says FASHION! on the front in block letters, and house slippers.
READ MORE ON AO3
#my writing#psych#juliet o'hara#shawn spencer#burton guster#shawn x juliet#shules#shawn x gus#a given really but definitely platonic#carlton lassiter#karen vick#plus miscellanious cameos!#i wrote a whole murder mystery for this and everything!#if this doesnt get notes i will probably cry lol jk but for real
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An Unhinged Animal Crossing ramble
I haven't played my Animal Crossing file in over a year, but damn did it help me through college.
I don't know about any of y'all, but I made backstories for the villagers on my Island, and they all had connections and families. I made lore for these adorable little bundle of pixels.
Some of these backstories are ridiculous and silly. And I'm okay with that. This post is for me, I am this post's target audience. If you like my nonsense, that's on you.
Mac and Cherry are siblings, Mac being the overly enthusiastic younger brother while Cherry's the cool and aloof big sister. Cherry left home to start her music career, and she's doing pretty alright as an indie solo act. Mac wants to be a wrestler, but misses his big sis, so he kinda set out to follow her. Cherry used to find him super annoying and was really pissed that he followed her, but their relationship is getting better. She's learned to appreciate she always has him in her corner, and has started to return the favor for Mac's training. Mac was the first to move to the island, as a great private spot for training, and talked Cherry into moving in when she was done with her current tour.
Clyde is literally just vibes. He's a country boy, but his rural neighborhood is getting encroached on by suburbs. So, he became a backpacker, looking for somewhere not very busy or high pressure to settle down. He has a passion for woodworking and bug collecting and has formed an unlikely friendship with his neighbor Julia. Tiny brain with a massive heart. Doesn't know what a politic is, doesn't wanna know what a politic is. Would think a huge cheese wheel is an appropriate gift for a first date.
Julia wanted a fresh start, with her new name and identity (because you cannot look at her and tell me she isn't trans). With a dream to be a fashion designer, she transitioned very publicly and said so long to everyone who knew the old her. She is a high demand city girl, but got tired of the grind and questions and judgement. So, she retreated to the island to collect her thoughts, get inspiration, and just vibe in a place where no one knew who she was. She has expensive tastes, but has found an unlikely friendship in the kind but simple farm boy next door.
(Yes, I do think there is a Halmark Christmas Movie ass romance story waiting to happen here, don't judge me)
Gruff and Vladimir know each other. They know each other far too well. Two bosses of different families, families with some less than savory business practices. Vladimir moved into town from the old country, and muscled in on Gruff's turf. The two hated each other at first, constantly plotting the other's downfall, until they discovered a mutual desire to protect their family. Gruff has his niece Chevre, while Vladimir has his granddaughter Meagan. They saw eye to eye, at least enough to not try and kill the other. It more became a game to them, and soon they covered for each other from the cops. Gruff came to the island first, mostly as a way to finally get out of the city, but wasn't alone for long. Before she moved away, Meagan tipped Vladimir that Gruff was at the island, and he soon followed. Now they take pot shots at each other in the form of old man banter, sometimes with graphic murder plots, and no one can really tell if they're joking or not.
(This is the part you're gonna have to go with me on this)
Marina and Cephalebot are an unlikely duo. She claims that he's her younger brother, but everyone can see there's something off about him. He's adopted, but from where, no one knows. Except the family (There's so few octopi villagers I just like to think they're all a family, okay?). Marina found him in a crater in a corn field, with no memory or understanding of where he was. So, she decided that was brother material enough. In reality, Cephalebot is an alien probe. He was sent to Earth to study the local life and report back (kinda like Eve from Wall-E), but crash landed. He felt welcomed and loved by the family that helped him, so he decided to stick around. So, he lives as a resident of the planet he was meant to study, constantly learning how to vibe as an Earthling. He comes across as weird and a little invasive, but he means well. Marina, however is all that she seems on the outside. She is sweet, she loves pink, and she's the big sister everyone would want. She's also surprisingly handy with a screwdriver (because she's learned how to repair Ceph if needed). Marina came to the island as a perfect beach house spot, noticed all the bugs and fish in the area, and called Ceph to join her because of how much he likes studying the wildlife.
Drago is the heir to a powerful family (either business or actual royalty I can't decide), but does not have a cutthroat bone in his body. He's gentle where his parents are ruthless. He gets called an idiot and soft all the time, and no amount of "training" ever makes him a cruel person. He had enough one day, and bailed. He took some money, some snacks, and left. He found the island as the perfect escape from his family, and set up shop pretty quickly. He gets a little nervous around some of the stronger personalities, but quickly warms up when he realizes none of them are as vicious as the ones he left behind. He hangs out with Clyde at snack time, helps Shino with her performances, and even likes listening to Vlad and Gruff's old man ramblings.
Shino is not of this realm originally. She was a demon, summoned by a jealous actress to sabotage her rival. She took on the mortal form she now inhabits as a way to get closer to her target, but something else captured her interest. She fell in love with the stage, with the attention she received for her own skills. So, she ditched her contract and set to travel the world as an actress in her own right. She writes plays and poems, and performs them for whatever audience she can find. She moved to the island for similar reasons as to Julia, to refresh and get some new inspiration. She found that she liked it there, and has made an unlikely friendship with Drago, an always willing audience member.
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If quite literally any of that was interesting to any of you, feel free to reblog or add your own thoughts. It was nice to finally just dump all of those ideas out there.
#void rambles#void thoughts#animal crossing#animal crossing villagers#animal crossing lore#animal crossing headcannons#heandcannons#so many headcannons#I don't know if any of that made any sense
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Somewhere Only We Know
Hoshiumi Korai x Reader
Quote: “Fall in love with someone that loves you.”
Hoshiumi falls in love like the changing of autumn leaves. The change always begins rather slowly. Bit by bit and piece by piece until one day you suddenly realise that the neutral greens have all turned into bright reds, yellows and oranges.
---
I walked across an empty land
Hoshiumi stared up at the clock that hung up on the wall. The ticking could be heard throughout the empty home. His brother was out hanging with friends and his parents had gone out on a date night leaving Hoshiumi home alone.
The clock had been a gift from his aunt. A house warming present for their new home.
It was loud. Not obnoxiously loud but loud enough to echo throughout an empty home.
It was five fifteen.
Your train will be here soon.
Your team had come to the region for a practice match for the weekend which is why you were here in the first place.
Hoshiumi was a little jealous that your team got the chance to play teams in other regions but if they had then he wouldn’t have gotten to spend his Saturday with you.
The two of you had spent most of Saturday together. Mostly just walking around town, Hoshiumi showing you around his favourite places. His elementary school. The outdoor volleyball net that’s set up in the clear field. The small spot under the tall tree at the edge of the cliff.
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
The volleyball player sighed.
He hated rest days.
Obviously human bodies needed rest but that didn’t mean that Hoshiumi had to like it.
He had tried to do some homework but was quickly bored. Balancing chemical equations was always Hirugami’s thing.
Maybe a run would do him some good.
Best to let some energy out. And it wasn’t like running was heavy exercise on the body anyways.
I felt the earth beneath my feet
What are you doing now?
Probably bothering one of your teammates.
Hoshumi chuckled at that.
It was one of the things that drew him towards you. Not just your attitude towards volleyball but your playful personality. There was always something you were doing to make other people laugh.
Sat by the river and it made me complete
The wind whipped against Hoshiumi’s face as he jogged through the suburban town. Past the convenience store, past his neighbors’ homes, and past that one weird restaurant that all the kids at school raved about.
Hoshiumi had never been a big fan of following fads but he had decided to take you there yesterday. You were hungry and he thought it might be something you’d like. It was always serving something new and didn’t allow the customers to pick their own meals. The waiters would bring what they thought would suit you and if you didn’t like it then you wouldn’t have to pay.
You really liked it.
Hoshiumi felt a flush rise to his face as he remembered the waiter mistaking the two of you for a couple.
He was almost as embarrassed now as he was then. He hadn’t been able to look you in the face so he couldn’t see your reaction but he hoped you weren’t too weirded out.
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
You and him.
What a… weird thing. Well…
Hoshiumi didn’t think he would be going back to the weird restaurant anytime soon. The meal suggested to him ended up making him a little sick. At least you seemed to like your meal. Your eyes lit up when you took the first bite and ended up finishing your meal first.
I’m gettin’ old, and I need something to rely on
What other kinds of things did you like to eat?
He had wanted to try what you were eating but he didn’t want to intrude too much. Not everyone was okay with sharing their food and he didn’t want you to feel obligated.
You probably liked eating sugary foods.
He imagines that you like sweet things because you always have some kind of candy on you. You were eating gummy bears the first time the two of you met (which had been during a volleyball training camp) and brought along jolly ranchers the other day.
So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in
It’s funny. Those gummy bears were the reason why you caught his attention in the first place. He’d been craving something sweet when he caught you sneaking one between water breaks.
You ended up sharing because you didn’t want to get snitched on.
It was really cute when you flushed. Like a deer caught in headlights.
Truthfully, we wouldn’t have told on you. Even if you didn’t share.
I’m gettin’ tired, and I need somewhere to begin
It wasn’t exactly easy for Hoshiumi to get along with other people. His boisterous and enthusiastic attitude tends to rub people the wrong way. You, on the other hand, seemed to like him immediately. You were quick to give away compliments and boost his ever growing ego. Usually, Hoshiumi didn’t really care for people like that but it helped that you happened to have a rather pretty smile.
I came across a fallen tree
He was actually really happy when you agreed to call him by his first name. Not that he’d ever tell you that.
Hoshiumi was actually really bad at talking to girls. Most of the girls at his school were either weirded out by him or intimidated. He definitely wasn’t going to tell you that either.
I felt the branches of it looking at me
You know, Hoshiumi had never really had a favourite kind of candy before but now it definitely has to be gummy bears.
Is this the place we used to love?
Maybe he should head out and buy some.
No.
Some sugar right now won’t do anything for his health. He’s supposed to be eating well, especially because he’s supposed to be playing again.
Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?
He could probably buy the latest issue of volleyball monthly.
He doesn't care much about being in it himself but it’s always good to know who the up and coming stars are.
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
And you’ll probably be in it.
I’m gettin’ old, and I need something to reply on
He could probably get your autograph the next time he sees you.
You would definitely tease him for it.
So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in
It’s kind of weird. Liking someone.
There had been girls that Hoshiumi had liked before but he had always just watched them from afar.
And he’d never really thought that those crushes would go anywhere.
But with you… it’s a little different.
Yet, Hoshiumi isn’t really sure if he’d be okay with opening his heart up to you.
I’m gettin’ tired, and I need somewhere to bein
Liking someone has always been a certain way of getting your heart broken. It’s like handing a knife to someone and trusting them to not stab you in the back.
And Hoshiumi isn’t certain if he’s ready to do something like that.
He’d much rather spend his days playing volleyball.
And if you have a minuet, why don’t we go
There’s nothing wrong with liking you. It’s just…
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
Have you ever liked someone? Do you like someone right now?
Hoshiumi has never had the guts to ask you before but he’s certain you have. Brilliant people come together with other brilliant people and it’s hard to not like someone brilliant.
He would know.
Have you had a boyfriend before?
This could be the end of everything
Hoshiumi shudders at the thought.
So, why don’t we go
Most of the boys at the training camp were rather fond of you. He wonders how many of them ended up getting your number.
His heart warms a little knowing that he’s one of the few who did manage it.
Somewhere only we know?
He wonders if you would pick up if he called.
If you would write back immediately if he texted you or if you would think deeply about it before sending him something back. Would he just be another message that you read over?
Somewhere only we know
Hoshiumi shakes his head.
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
He should probably head home soon. His mother and father would be back and he didn’t leave a note. They would definitely start to worry.
I’m getting old, and I need something to rely on
Eventually, Hoshiumi found himself in a familiar spot.
You and him had just been here the other day. The large tree at the edge of the cliff. It had been his favourite place growing up.
His family had gone here for picnics when he was younger. When they were young and had a lot more freetime. As the family grew older they visited the place less and less but now it would always be a place that Hoshiumi held close in his heart.
A place where he went when everything seemed to be going downhill.
A place he went when he needed a moment away from everything.
So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in
It was his grandmother’s favourite place.
His grandmother was a shorter woman with a warm smile. She always made sure to bring Hoshiumi and his brother something sweet when she came to visit them and was one of Hoshiumi’s favourite people.
It had been really hard on him when his grandmother died.
His life had spiraled out of control and everything just seemed wrong. Even volleyball had become something he found annoying.
Here though, beneath the large oak tree, everything seemed okay.
Now, it had been quite a few years since his grandmother died but this place was now one of comfort.
I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to being
And now, he suddenly found himself here again.
It hadn’t been intentional. In fact, Hoshiumi hadn’t even realised he had been following the familiar path until he was already there.
Perhaps a part of him knew that this was where he wanted to be.
And if you have a minuet, why don’t we go
Waves crashing against the side of the cliffside was a rather soothing sound. It helped Hoshiumi to steady his breathing.
The sun would be fully gone soon and his mom would probably scold him for staying out too late. Strangely though, Hoshiumi didn’t leave. He didn’t want to leave. A part of him told him that this was the place he needed to be. That something important was going to happen.
You had been in awe of this place. You’d said something about how crazy it was that this tree had managed to grow here in the first place. Talking about the unstable ground and bad conditions. Hoshiumi wasn’t quite sure of what you were saying but found it cute. You were cute. And that fact, of course, was another thing he likely wouldn’t tell you.
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
You and Hoshiumi were friends.
Sure he may have taken a bit of a fancy towards you but who hadn’t?
You were just the kind of person that people liked. Nothing too complicated. There are just some people that happen to catch the attention of everyone and some that don’t.
He doubts that you feel that kind of way about him.
This could be the end of everything
You were probably on the train now, halfway home.
So, why don’t we go?
His brother would definitely tease him if he knew how much he thought about you. Honestly it was a little embarrassing. The only other thing that came to his mind this often was volleyball. It also didn’t help that you seemed to be as obsessed with volleyball as him. Or maybe it did.
So, why don’t we go?
Nationals were coming up soon and he’d probably see you there.
His team was obviously coming out of their region but yours was a different story. It was no question that you were a good player but your team had never been known as a powerhouse. Your coach wasn’t well known and your team was mostly comprised of first and second years.
It would be nothing less than a shame if you didn’t make it.
Not because Hoshiumi definitely wanted you to watch him play but because you deserved to be known.
Ooh, hey, hey
‘RING RING’
‘RING RING’
He stumbled to answer his phone, frantically searching through his different pockets.
Hoshiumi had never been one to be eager to answer the phone but his mother had been on his case recently. If he missed one of her calls he’d never hear the end of it.
He glanced at the caller ID briefly though not actually catching anything.
“Hello?” Hoshiumi answered.
“Korai?”
His heart skipped a beat, “(Y/n)?”
“Where are you?” you asked.
“I was out for a run but I’m at the big tree by the cliff. Why? Where are you? You sound out of breath.”
“Really!” you took a deep breath, “that’s good!”
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, do you remember the other day? When we were talking about things we would regret if we never did?” you asked, your voice coming in and out as heavy breaths.
“Yeah?”
“Well I realised what it is that I'd regret.”
“And what’s that?”
“You.” your voice echoed, coming from both behind Hoshiumi and from his phone.
Hoshiumi snapped his head around, his eyes meeting with your own.
Oh-oh-oh
You dropped down, your body moving heavily up and down.
“(Y/n), what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on a train right now.”
This could be the end of everything
“I” you huffed, “I’d regret never telling you before I go for the rest of my life.”
So, why don’t we go somewhere only we know?
“Telling me what?”
Somewhere only we know
“I love you.”
Somewhere only we know
Hoshiumi moved towards you, hanging up his own phone before grabbing yours. For once, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
But he didn’t need words for this.
Hoshiumi leaned in, his lips meeting with your own.
Fall in love with someone that loves you.
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“About me” type questions
(Except I probably over share??)
Feel free to dm for the template
Also I just wrote everything down because I don’t wanna crowd my page with questions 😭 + I’m mostly writing this for myself to look back on later lmfao
1. Who was the last person you held hands with? N/A
2. Are you loud, outgoing, or shy? I am definitely loud and outgoing around the right people. I don’t think I’m shy. I’ll talk about anything with anyone stranger or otherwise but I just don’t necessarily have much to say? And there’s a huge difference between being shy and being completely afraid.
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? I am always looking forward to seeing one friend of mine. They don’t really talk to me anymore and I never see them but I’m sure I’ll always feel this way.
4. Are you easy to get along with? I really hope so? I’m sure I can be disagreeable and I probably talk about myself a bit more frequently than people want to hear but I’ve never had anyone that I really didn’t get along with I don’t think
5. Have you ever given up on someone, but then gone back to them? In terms of dating I’m assuming? In that case no. I’ve never dated anyone to begin with
6. If you were sick would that person take care of you? N/A
7. Who is on your mind right now? That one friend I talked about on Q3
8. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My sister, mom and grandparents about if time would exist without humans here to put a name to it.
9. What does your most recent text say? “Yayy!!!” From my dad :))
10. Is there a hot topic that you feel strongly about? ?
11. Do you like big crowds of people? It definitely depends on if I’m by myself in the crowd or with people I am comfortable with. If I am alone I absolutely HATE crowds but if I’m with people I like I’m cool with them. I like people watching.
12. Do you believe in luck/miracles? I don’t. I’m not sure when or why I started feeling this way but I also don’t believe in karma. It’s freeing. You should try it.
13. What good thing happened this summer? I can’t remember the summer already. :/ I used to write everything I did every day down in my notebooks without fail so I can look back and remember but I’ve been slacking recently.
14. Do you think there is life on other planets? I like to think that there is alien life somewhere out there although I’m sure that it would be something like little worms or fish. Even though this doesn’t seem as groundbreaking as the aliens most people picture I still think that life on other planets would be amazing
15. Do you like bubble baths? Yes
16. Do you like your neighbors? They’re fine. My sister is friends with our neighbors daughter. She’s nice.
17. What are your bad habits? It would be faster for me to write down my good habits.
18. Where would you like to travel? I would love to go back to Italy! I went with my family, immediate and extended as a big trip when I was in middle school.
19. Do you have trust issues? No. Although I haven’t had any bad experiences that could have kickstarted trust issues yet. Check back in in a couple years maybe?
20. Favorite part of your daily routine? I have absolutely no routine to my day
21. What do you do when you wake up? I lay there disappointed for an extra hour or two.
22. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? This is a weird ass question 💀
23. Who are you most comfortable around? See Q3 and 7
24. Do you ever want to get married? Maybe? I don’t know if that kind of situation would ever work out for me though. I don’t really love people like that? Like, if it wasn’t official and it was just something that we agreed on one day as a concept I would. I don’t think I would find anyone like the person I have in mind and they don’t really talk to me anymore and that’s the one thing that matters so what’s the point lol
25. Is your hair long enough for a ponytail? Yes and I’m super happy about it because all my life I thought my hair just stopped growing once it hit shoulder length but it turned out it was just really damaged lmao
26. Which of your favorite celebrities would you like to meet in real life? Probably none 🤭 it would be too embarrassing
27. Do you play any sports? Not really although I can throw DOWN in badminton
28. Would you rather live without IV or music? Am I an idiot?? What does this mean 💀💀
29. Have you ever liked someone/wanted to be their friend, but never told them? 100%
30. What do you say during awkward silences? I never really experience awkward silences. At least they aren’t awkward for me? I just don’t really care about that kind of thing
31. Do you think age matters in relationships/friendships? Definitely but I also think that people on the internet make certain situations out to be worse than they are. For example, a 19/yo and a 17/yo being friends. One is in high school and one isn’t which makes it seem like a huge difference but its not and not everything has to at all be sexual. I think that people tend to think they know everything about someone’s life in situations like these.
32. What are your favorite stores to shop at? Right now I’m on a Cider groove. I love their clothes and they aren’t expensive.
33. What do you want to do after high school? I graduated in 2022 and I hate my life and want to go back.
34. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? No. Certain people don’t at all
35. If you're being extremely quiet, what does it mean? I’m short circuiting
36. Do you smile at strangers? Yes :)
37. Trip to outer space or the bottom of the sea? God, neither. But if I had to choose I’m going with the sea. I hate the idea of flying in a spaceship and I’m afraid of the sky
38. Do you want a roommate? I would love a roommate actually. The more the merrier.
39. What are you paranoid about? That I’m losing my mind
40. What was the meanest thing someone ever said to you? I couldn’t care enough to remember
41. The nicest thing? I wish I could remember but I promise that I care.
42. Have you ever done something that you hope no one finds out about? Yes but no one will
43. What language do you want to learn? German
44. What's your full name? Excuse me?
45. What are your three biggest fears?
1. The open sky 2. Going insane. 3. Seizures
46. What are three things you love? My family is a definite answer but I feel like I haven’t experienced life for long enough to answer the last two.
47. Who's your best friend? I don’t have one
48. How tall are you? 6’4
49. What do you miss? The 10th grade/2019, my friends, my old Apple Music playlists… the list could go on and on forever
50. What time were you born? Early in the morning I think
51. What's your favorite color? Red
52. What's your favorite quote? “The time is coming where you won’t feel like you do now” Woolworm - Indian Summer
53. What's your favorite place? I don’t think I have one yet
54. What's your favorite food? Pasta
55. Do you use sarcasm? I wanted to think of a witty joke to write down but I am incredibly unfunny so you’ll just have to live with a simple no
56. What are you listening to right now? Love Interruption by Jack White
57. What's the first thing you notice about a new person? Their eyes, facial expressions, clothes
58. What's your shoe size? N/A
59. What's your eye color? Brown
60. What's your hair color? Very dark brown
61. What's your favorite style of clothing? I don’t know. I’m weird about putting names to things like that
62. Have you ever played a prank on someone? Probably
63. What's the meaning of your username/URL? I’m Dorian. Dorian sounds strangely close to the word distortion. I think?
64. What's your favorite movie? Parasite always. Two close contenders are Nope and The Talented Mr. Ripley. I like a movie with a dramatic tone shift in the middle.
65. What's your favorite song? I think I’ll always love the song I Quit Girls by Japandroids
66. Your favorite bands? Maybe Million Dead? I wish they recorded more than two albums but I’ll take what I can get. Nirvana of course and The Dear Hunter. The Dear Hunter makes incredible songs. Like, my jaw is on the floor with every new one I listen to and they have so much music to go through. Also I LOVE when albums have a storyline that they follow but The Deer Hunter has a storyline that spans the length of 6 albums I believe. They have 10 full albums in total and they’re still together. God I could talk about that band forever.
67. How are you feeling right now? Maybe afraid? I’m not super in tune
68. Who's someone you love? Everyone in my family. I’m so glad that they are the ones I get to be related to. I love them so much and My old friend from Q3, 7 and 23.
69. How's your relationship with your parents? Great
70. What's your favorite holiday? It tends to change with every holiday that’s up next. Right now of course I’m biased towards Halloween because I’m in the mood and it’s around the corner.
71. Do you have/want any tattoos or piercings? If you want any, what do you want? I have a left side lip piercing, a septum piercing and 5 tattoos (not including the ones I have on my fingers) that I did myself. I think I want more but I would get them done professionally. I really want a Vegvisir tattoo and one that says “cursed be he who moves my body” like the quote on the bracelet in king tut’s tomb yk, the one that’s supposedly cursed so when I die it will stress EVERYONE out lmao
72. What was the last book you read? Crime and Punishment
73. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Boring answer but it really just depends. I’m not very fast though
74. Where are you right now? In my bedroom
75. Do you like loud music or soft music? Both but I listen to louder music usually
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The gas station was less quiet than you'd think at this time of night, even in a town this small. It didn't seem strange at first, but over this week I've started to wonder why people just… hang out here, usually alone. And it's always older men.
They're scary obviously, in the way that all older white men are when you're a trans woman in a rural town at 1:04am. But they probably wouldn't bother me while I'm working, even if they did clock me. Not to mention I'm just here for 2 weeks anyway while I'm staying with my aunt. She's a manager here and asked me to work while I'm at her house.
Come to think of it, maybe this is how I looked to the gas station workers I was around before. You have a way of blending into the scenery when you're doing this, which is pretty comforting. But I bet they see a lot of funny people. I took a nap in my car in a gas station parking lot once.
Those two guys are both dressed the same. Some kind of work uniform, it's got some logo on the sleeve. Or some weird Midwestern cult maybe. They did mention something about a Bible study group I think. What denominations even become cults here? Back home it was always the evangelicals, or the baptists, or those big megachurches like Joel Osteen.
Anyway one of them's going now. Other guy comes up with a coffee, asks for some Camels. "Green ones," he mumbles. Shitty cigarettes, but alright. Like seriously what kind of old guy smokes Crushes? But seriously, it's fine.
Oh I'm supposed to do this thing when someone buys this coffee. It's some kind of promo, they have a flashing light display Aunt Anita set up. To be honest it's probably more useful for business when there's more than one person here, but it's actually kind of neat that she managed to set this up all on her own, so I'll flick it. Neon lights just go crazy in a few spots around the counter in abstract patterns that remind me vaguely of those big Chinese dragon costumes from the dances at new year. Or maybe like fire.
I mumble a "thanks". I don't know why I always thank people for nothing while I'm at work.
He mumbles something back though, it sounded like "something something your kind". And he's gone.
Maybe he really did clock me. Shit, forgot they made me throw out my pepper spray last time I went to the aquarium. It really is probably fine.
***
Drive "home" is fine, reminds me of working nights at the plant back home. Makes me feel like a teenager kind of. Only weird thing is, seems like nobody's at home right now. I know the boys aren't supposed to be in school for another few weeks, and Aunt Anita doesn't start her shift until like 2pm, around the time I wake up. I mean I've got a key, but… it's kind of weird, right? Going into someone's house when they're not there. All the lights are off, and the door's locked.
7:34am
"hey you guys go out for breakfast or smth?"
Sent
Whatever, I'm tired. Hope they bring me something back though.
***
SLAM!!
Sounded like the door to the neighboring bedroom. I can hear Aunt Anita fussing at one of the boys for being loud. There's some irony. Not sure I'll get back to sleep though. It's hard enough sleeping somewhere unfamiliar, but waking up has this sort of adrenaline to it.
By the time I make myself presentable enough to feel comfortable being seen by the outside world though Aunt Anita's already gone. I ask the boys if they brought me anything from breakfast. Nope!
"We had leftovers if you want." Yeah alright.
I mostly spent the day bugging my friends from home, and watching 40 minute YouTube videos that will definitely put me back to sleep. I jolt from half-consciousness at everyone's favorite sound: the poorly mixed way-too-loud audio of a local political ad. Johnny Johnson or something. George Whitebread. Oh shocker, racist dog-whistles seem to be a major campaign promise in the Midwest too. Here's something fun though– shit I skipped the ad. But I think that was the same logo I saw on the guys' matching shirts last night. Maybe that's who owns all of the corn that seems to be inexplicably growing everywhere. Monsanto most likely.
Whoops, now I'm on a Wikipedia crawl into Monsanto's corrupt history here in Kansas. Gross negligence, roundup, lost crops, lawsuits, blah blah blah. I actually can't tell which of these headlines are about the same lawsuits and which ones are about different lawsuits. It kind of seems like they're just still doing the same shit like month after month and just eating the legal costs. My friends' group chat is talking about a movie night I'm going to have to miss, so obviously I'm sending them paragraphs about how much I hate Monsanto. I'm assuming nobody reads these but it's nice to feel like I can still annoy them with my inane bullshit from this far away. I send one last message before I get ready for work:
9:14pm
"for legal reasons that was a joke"
"fbi agent, that means you can only use it against me in court IF you kiss me for it"
Received
Oh wait Aunt Anita messaged me? Oh it was earlier, I–
8:17am
"were at Ziggys Cafe"
"Emily don't go home right now its not safe"
Seen
8:34am
"please answer the phone"
Seen
8:52am
"Emily don't go into the house I'm begging you don't go inside"
"you better be okay"
Seen
What the fuck?
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Unlocking the Mystery: The Existence of Life on Venus
For hundreds of years, people have wondered if there's life somewhere other than Earth. We usually look at faraway stars and planets for answers, but lately, we've been paying more attention to Venus, one of our closest neighbors. Even though Venus has always seemed too harsh for life because it's incredibly hot and has poisonous air, recent discoveries suggest there might be something there after all. Let's take a closer look at what scientists have found, the interesting clues that hint at life on Venus, and what it could mean if we discover it.
The Venusian Enigma
Venus earns the moniker "Earth's twin" due to its comparable size and composition, sharing similarities with our home planet. But, it's nothing like home. Its air is mostly carbon dioxide, with surface temperatures exceeding 450°C (842°F), enough to melt lead. Because of these harsh conditions, scientists never thought life could survive there.
Beneath Venus's harsh surface, a lot is happening in its atmosphere. Scientists got interested in Venus again because they found something called phosphine gas there. Phosphine is a molecule made of one phosphorus atom and three hydrogen atoms. It's important because it could mean there's life on Venus.
The Phosphine Puzzle
In September 2020, scientists made a big discovery about Venus. They found a gas called phosphine in its atmosphere. This surprised a lot of people who study space. On Earth, we usually find phosphine where there are living things, like certain bacteria in places without much oxygen. But Venus is very different from Earth, so finding phosphine there was confusing.
After scientists said they found phosphine on Venus, many people weren't sure if it was true. They wanted to be sure it wasn't a mistake and that there wasn't another reason for it. But after looking more, they found more evidence that phosphine is really there. This makes some scientists think there might be life on Venus.
Habitability Beyond Earth
In recent years, scientists have been really curious about whether other planets could support life. Mars has been the main focus because we've sent a lot of missions there to see if there's any evidence of life, past or present. But Venus is also interesting because it challenges what we think about where life could exist.
Venus is a lot like Earth in some ways, but its surface is really harsh. It's super hot and the air pressure is so high that it would crush you. However, if you go up about 50 to 60 kilometers above the surface, things start to change. The conditions become more like what we have on Earth, with temperatures and pressure that we can handle, similar to being at sea level here.
The Cloud City Hypothesis
One interesting idea is that life might live in the clouds of Venus. Unlike the heavy, acidic clouds lower down, there's a layer of clouds higher up made of tiny drops of sulfuric acid. In this part of the atmosphere, the conditions are better for small life forms to survive.
Tiny living things like bacteria might be floating around in the clouds of Venus. These bacteria could eat up the stuff available in the clouds and use sunlight for energy, just like plants do on Earth. As a result, they might produce a gas called phosphine. This idea fits with what we know about extremophiles, which are organisms that can live in really tough conditions. It also gives scientists new directions to explore in their search for life beyond Earth.
Implications for Astrobiology
If we find life on Venus, it would be a big deal. It would mean that life can exist in places we never thought possible, not just on Earth. This discovery would shake up our ideas about where life can thrive in the universe. It might even change how we think about planets and where they could support life.
Furthermore, if we find life on Venus, it would make us wonder if life could exist in other harsh places in space. This would make scientists want to search even more for life on other planets and moons, both in our solar system and beyond.
Future Prospects
Scientists still have a lot to learn about Venus. They're planning more missions with spacecraft and probes to study the planet more closely. They want to find more clues about possible life and understand its atmosphere and surface better.
Two important missions are planned to explore Venus. NASA's VERITAS (Venus Emissivity, Radio Science, InSAR, Topography, and Spectroscopy) mission wants to map Venus's surface and study its rocks and minerals. It will use special tools like radar to learn more about Venus's geology. Another mission, called EnVision by the European Space Agency, will focus on studying Venus's air and surface. It aims to understand the history of Venus and if it could support life. Both missions will help us learn a lot about Venus and its potential for hosting life.
Conclusion
The idea that there might be life on Venus challenges what we thought we knew and makes us think bigger about the possibility of life beyond Earth. Even though we still need to learn a lot more, finding phosphine in Venus's atmosphere suggests there could be tiny life forms living in the clouds there.
As we keep exploring space and trying to understand more about our solar system and beyond, Venus reminds us that life can be tougher and more adaptable than we imagined. Whether it's hiding deep down in Venus's hot surface or floating in the clouds high above, figuring out Venus's mysteries and whether life exists there is one of the most important things we're trying to do in science right now.
FAQs
Is life feasible on Venus? While life as we recognize it would struggle to endure the extreme conditions on Venus's surface, there's a chance it could thrive in the planet's atmosphere. While the lower atmosphere is filled with corrosive sulfuric acid clouds, higher altitudes offer a more hospitable environment. There, the conditions are less hostile, providing a potential haven for life forms.
What is the mystery of Venus? Venus is not a friendly place for life. Its surface is like a desert with no water or plants. It's incredibly hot there, much hotter than even the hottest oven you can imagine. The air is thick and heavy, pressing down with a force about 90 times stronger than the air on Earth. Nothing can survive these extreme conditions.
How is Venus showing mysterious life signals? Scientists found a gas called phosphine in the clouds of Venus. This gas might have been made by tiny living things called microbes. On Earth, these microbes make phosphine when there's no oxygen around.
Is there oxygen on Venus? With the recent discovery of oxygen on Venus, some might think it's getting a bit more friendly but don't get too excited. The oxygen levels there are really low, nothing close to what we have on Earth. Plus, it's still incredibly hot, almost 900 degrees Fahrenheit. So even with a tiny bit of oxygen, we definitely can't start planning any trips there.
What was the surprising discovery on Venus? According to data collected by the Pioneer spacecraft, scientists figured out that Venus used to have a lot of water. There was so much water that it could have covered the entire planet in an ocean about 30 feet deep. This suggests that Venus might have had a warm and comfortable environment where life could have existed.
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#science#astronomy#universe#space#education#astrophotography#astrobiology#planets#planetary science#cosmology#solar system
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YOU GET IT!! Like they're literally just a normal brown family who happens to have a fountain of youth in their backyard. Yeah they're spies but they're just really passionate about environmental conservation. Not enough of you writing them like the family having an argument about fruit or something in the market or talking too loud at the table behind you.
Ra's is just a grandpa scolding you for not eating enough at dinner. Nyssa is the rich aunt that you see maybe twice a year but she always has the best gossip. Dusan is the rebellious middle son turned fun uncle that shows up sporadically with gifts. Talia is your tired mom dragging you outside to work in the garden with her. Damian is your annoying younger brother glued to his iPad while watching someone play Fortnite or something. Maya is the family friend that's always in your house and you keep forgetting she even has a house somewhere else. Athanasia is your little sister who's constantly trying to hang out with the big kids but she hasn't quite gotten out of her awkward phase yet. Nobody knows how Grandma Soul is still alive but you're pretty sure it's mostly spite for the neighbor down the street she's been beefing with since the dinosaurs were around.
Talia even being called an assassin gives me the ick because when she was first introduced she hated killing, felt immense guilt the few times she had to, and most of the time if it looked like she killed someone it turned out to be anaesthesia or a tranquilizer or something. Like she was literally studying to be a doctor when her and Bruce met and she was based off of the stereotypical Bond Girl because it was the 70's. Like I know it's basically her entire character now that she's an "assassin mom" or whatever but that was not who she was intended to be and I hate how it's done most of the time because it's ALWAYS a way to point and say "look at the evil brown woman! She's a cold blooded killer who forced/passively allowed her son to kill as well! It's a good thing that the feral brown boy is now with his good white family so he can learn the value of life and art and how to exist in civil society!" And it's actually really pissing me off. You guys don't even read a characters introduction comic before you start writing the same regurgitated nonsense steeped in racism and misogyny. Damian's whole character as it stands is basically character assassination for Talia and in order for me to be able to engage with him he'd have to be entirely rewritten.
#Al Ghul family they could never make me hate you#dc#Talia Al Ghul#ra's al ghul#damian wayne#nyssa raatko#dusan al ghul#maya ducard#athanasia al ghul#Mother Soul#many of you do not see my vision but for those few of you who do we must stay strong#we are in an age of good Talia writing unseen in years past#everyone say thank you Juni Ba and Ram V
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Chaotic’s Masterlist
The Walking Dead
Daryl Dixon
Short stories:
Flower's
When Daryl was young his mother was fascinated with flower's. Daryl always went on walks with her on day's where his father would get really drunk and angry. She would distract him by showing him flower's and picking them together. Now since the apocalypse, Daryl finds himself in a big open field picking flowers for his loved one. He remembers her and how he wished she could see him now. Happy and loved by you.
What Are We?.. continued
Daryl had always been slow and careful with your relationship. Always wanting to treat you right. Make you the happiest person on the planet. But he also kept thinking about you in other ways. Maybe it was time to be a little bit more intimate with you. [18+]
Imagines:
New To This
You and Daryl had recently started dating. You always had feelings for each other but now both of you had a safe place to settle down. Your new home, the Prison. It was finally time to take it easy and be together
Fluff:
Dog part 1 / part 2
Reader is the one who finds dog. Dog saves them and the reader remembers how Daryl always wanted a dog when he was younger but could never have one due to his abusive father. The reader surprises him with Dog.
Series:
The Bonfire part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4
Summary: Alexandria decided to have it’s fall bonfire. A night where everyone would gather and spend time together. Things have been a little rough lately and the kids came up with the idea. You decided to make your pecan pie. It was a favorite by mostly everyone. Especially a man with a crossbow that’s been eyeing you lately
Angst:
Scars
Daryl is having a difficult day with body shaming issues from his own mind. The reader notices when they wake up and comfort's him and shows him how beautiful he is and there is no reason for him to be hating himself for his scars
I could have lost you... (50 Follower Special)
It was supposed to be easy. Just a quick run in and run out. Nothing else. It wasn’t supposed to go like this…
Requests:
Just one more drink!!
Another party was happening to celebrate the people of Alexandria. Things have been a bit difficult lately, you thought it would be a good idea to go with Daryl as a couple. Until it didn't..
Look My Way
You mostly kept to yourself, being very socially awkward and shy. It was difficult to connect with people. Daryl always tried his best to be kind to you and help you open up. That was until someone got their hands on your sketchbook.
Blade 2
Scud
Short Stories:
Imagines:
Fluff:
Series:
Angst:
Requests:
Watch and Learn
After a stressful week Scud suggests you try smoking. Seeing you so exhausted and worn out he wanted to help you.
This wasn't supposed to happen!!
You were on your way to see Scud. It had been a long and tiring week. With work and your college exams. You felt exhausted. Scud always made you feel better. You didn't notice the extra set of eyes on you as you walked down the alley way…
Our little secret
It was Scud’s first time coming to your apartment. Which you tried to avoid the most. Wondering how he would react to you being a witch and all.
Just a little crush
Scud would never admit but he had a huge crush on you. Until after a mission gone wrong and you end up hurt.
Boondock Saint's
Murphy
Short Stories:
Imagines:
Fluff:
Series:
Noisy Neighbors part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
Trying to get some sleep for the night, you herd loud music playing from your neighbors apartment. That's the night you met the MacManus brother's. [18+]
Angst:
Requests:
You are my love
You and Murphy had just started dating recently. Murphy and Connor always ended up sneaking off somewhere and you had enough of it.
Gossip
Travis
Short Stories:
Imagines:
Fluff:
You're new around here (200 follower special)
You recently just transferred to a new college. You majored in the arts and a minor in photography. For one of your assignments you had to have a partner. That's how you met Travis.
Series:
Angst:
Requests:
#masterlist#my writing#twd fanfiction#writer#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#the walking dead#twd daryl#daryl dixon#blade 2#scud blade 2#murphy macmanus#travis#gossip2000#travis gossip
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spirits and such office dog
the more i think about reigen having an office dog the more i go feral over it. the possibilities are so soft. i mean just think about it.
just the general vibe would be so good like- i always picture the spirits and such office as a place where not a whole lot of work gets done and it's mostly just the crew hanging out and listening to classical music while they pretend to work and adding a very chill dog to that? impeccable vibes
can't decide if a tiny dog or a big dog would be better bc on the one hand a tiny dog curling up in reigen's lap like a cat while he works? kill me now that's so cute!! but also having a big dog sit across people's feet or next to the couch so they can pet the dog while they explain their problems?? the viBES!!
if somebody's allergic or just doesn't like dogs he turns to serizawa like "i have a very important job for you." and serizawa salutes like he's about to take on a battle but then just scoops the dog up and walks into the other room
(the idea is for him to come back but serizawa appreciates the opportunity to listen to the client stories somewhere he can't be Perceived. so he "keeps the dog company" while he listens in from the other room and reigen comes in when the client is done to hear what serizawa thinks)
also the thought of all reigen's neighbors thinking he's just walking a dog normally before realizing he's always in a suit and they don't see him come back for hours and hours and they start wondering where he's going that he needs a dog AND a suit at the same time
taking the dog outside throughout the day gives him an opportunity for smoke breaks where mob can't see him (even after/if he quits, he appreciates the chance for some fresh air and a change of scenery). he leans against the wall with one leg crossed in front of the other with the end of the leash around his wrist and his hand in his pocket while he just lets the dog wander and say hi to people that walk past. (i am. so very gay for the image of this.)
when they go out for field jobs he pats the dog on the head and tells it to "hold down the fort" every. single. time.
i'm not sure if the cafe above their office is like- run by them or if it's a separate business but either way i love the idea of whoever's up in the cafe coming down during breaks to pet the dog.
the dog going absolutely batshit the first time dimple shows up and it takes everybody a minute to figure out what the problem is bc they're so used to seeing him.
the dog eventually gets used to him, which means it also stops barking when there's a Haunted Object around, which reigen figured out was a pretty handy thing. he's gone long enough without it that it's not a big deal, but he still trains it with nonverbal commands to bark when he knows something is haunted bc. the theatrics of it all. the best actor that he doesn't have to pay (except in lots of treats once the client leaves). and it's not like him moving his hands around is all that conspicuous bc i mean have you seen this man? the hardest part is helping the dog figure out when not to bark
i remember reading that one of mob's hobbies is making dogs float?? and just. ever so slightly hovering the dog above the ground and zooming it around. it might freak the first time but after that it's just like how dogs stick their head out the windows of cars and a great time is had by all.
everybody accepts that the dog is mostly reigen's but the others take it home for a night sometimes, and as much as reigen loves the dog he's thankful for the break. probably not mob or ritsu bc of their parents but serizawa takes it bc the dog laying on his chest helps him sleep, and it's not like teru's parents are around to tell him not to when it makes his apartment feel less empty.
just. please give reigen a therapy dog. he deserves it.
#mob psycho 100#mp100#headcanons#my writing#genuinely not sure how to tag this#so i won't add any characters#definitely inspired by uu-chan#been thinking bout the omake a lot
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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 9
Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader
Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?
Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.
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Chapter 9: Tours
< | Previous Chapter
The castle was nothing short if huge, as well as breathtaking. It, truly, made the castle in your own kingdom feel small. Then again, your kingdom was never exactly huge to begin with. Techno's felt as if it would sprawl on for ages. You had no idea how you'd get through this place on your own. Honestly, if it weren't for Techno’s hand gingerly placed upon your back, you would probably have already gotten lost.
You hardly noticed the hand most of the time, only absently aware of the warmth of it. He led you down the hall Wilbur had gone down, first, taking a turn to the right when the hallway branched off. Various paintings lined the walls, some catching your attention long enough to peer at. Whenever you did, Techno would stop and tell you what he knew of the paintings, whether they be portraits of his father following some conquest or battle, or of the sun setting over a ridge that lay somewhere in the kingdom. You couldn’t help but lament how pretty some of the places were. Each time you did, Techno would assure you you would likely get to see each place at some point.
You were eventually led to the kitchens, which were bustling with servants and chefs. That’s where Wilbur had gone to, you found out. The blonde woman beside him must have been the Nihachu he spoke of. You don’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t exactly a chef. She was talking animatedly, a soft grin on her flour-splattered face. Wilbur had turned to glance at the door way, offering a faint smile your way. Nihachu’s gaze followed and she only dipped her head in a form of bow, hands busy with the ball of dough in front of her.
“Nihachu, she’s our head chef and an old friend of Wilbur’s. You’ll get to properly meet her tomorrow,” Techno informed from beside you. You simply nodded at that, letting him steer you away from the kitchen. The area the both of you were currently in consisted largely of servants quarters and storage rooms of the sorts. Nothing too exciting for you to see, though. That was fine, so long as it made the tour short.
At the end of the west wing was a door leading outside, into a large courtyard. This one seemed to have been turned into a bit of a training grounds. Curiosity lit up your eyes as you looked at the flattened area of grass with training dummies littering the edge. Techno laughed at the way you stared at it, patting your back a couple of times. “Wilbur, Tommy, and I train there. You’ll be able to soon.” You nodded, fingers running along the hilt of your dagger.
The courtyard opened up into a garden, which you only really glanced at. Your heart ached briefly, thoughts of George flooding your thoughts. You didn’t know when you would be able to walk through the gardens again. Not without thinking of him. The two of you had always gotten into such trouble in the gardens. They felt empty without his laughter ringing through the air, even if it wasn’t the gardens you had grown up in.
Techno led you through to the opposite side of the courtyard, away from the garden. A veranda greeted you, and you stepped up onto it. Of course Techno insisted on holding your hand to help you up, but you were becoming quite used to that. It was a little strange, but not entirely unwelcome. It was sweet.
“This is the ballroom. Where we hold our big celebrations, birthdays and the like. We’ll wind up holding the wedding here as well.” Techno pushed open one of the doors on the veranda, leading the pair of you into a large circular room. It was impressive. Not that you expected less. You wondered what the wedding would be like, briefly. It was hard to imagine it as your own. Everytime you did, your stomach flipped.
"Is there anywhere in here that isn't pretty?" You wondered, awestruck, aloud. It seemed unlikely. Techno laughed again, an occurrence that was becoming more common. Good. The way his laugh differed so vastly from his voice was nice. It made it pleasant.
"Maybe not in appearance, but I assure you that there's unsavory things here." His hand abandoned yours again, a feeling you didn't like still. At the very least he was once more guiding you along with a hand to your back. The exit from the ballroom took the pair of you back to the main room from earlier, emerging from between the stairs. Which presumably meant that all that remained on the main floor was the east wing. Which was exactly where Techno was leading you next.
"This wing is mainly official rooms- the throne room is here, as well as our dining hall. The library sits at the end of the wing," Techno explained as the pair of you walked. You nodded as he did, looking at everything you pass. Some doors he didn’t open, saying they were someone's office or another. There were a few rooms, the ones with mostly closed doors, that he did let you wander in.
When you had arrived at the dining hall, you took in every painting gracing the walls. These seemed more personal. All of them were portraits. You were attracted to one of the larger ones, scrutinizing it in your curiosity.
It depicted the royal family. The current one, at that. Even if the portrait was outdated. The King was sat in his throne, with a woman you could only assume was the Queen beside him. She was pretty, brown hair braided neatly, though you could see a few curls escaping it. That must be where they got the curls from, then. She had the same eyes Wilbur and Techno did. Warm, and kind. They were that brown that was comforting in a way you adored.
In front of the king stood who could only be Wilbur, looking very sullen. It was strange, compared to the warmth he seemed to radiate now. Tommy was in front of him, looking gangly but with a grin on his face that didn't seem to fit that of a royal family portrait. A bandage covered his cheek, a green bandana curled around his neck. He looked carefree, though that wasn't too different from the impression he gave off earlier.
Which meant the last figure, standing in front of the Queen, had to be Techno. It wasn't exactly what you would have expected, though. Instead of the long pink hair he sported now, it was cropped fairly short and blonde. He looked just as sullen as his older brother, but you had a feeling you knew why. His face was marked with a red scar, angling towards his eye. The one he mentioned getting from Wilbur.
"I'd been named crown prince about three days before this picture, this was about five years ago," Techno muttered from behind you. You turned back to him, glancing at him, then back to the painting. It was hard to connect that that was him.
"I never pictured you as a blonde." Those were the initial words out of your mouth, out of everything you had thought about. You commented on his hair.
He huffed softly in laughter at that, head shaking. "Did you think my hair was naturally pink? I have an image to uphold as crown prince." Him and his image that he was so obsessed with. You couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped you as you shook your head.
"I wasn't sure what I pictured, but it wasn't blonde. Your mother- The Queen- I haven't met her. Is there a reason?" You finally broached one question that stuck out to you in your mind. She hadn't shown to your kingdom, and you had yet to see her around.
Techno's amused face slowly faded, a frown replacing the smile he had worn. His brows furrowed for a few moments before he sighed. Should you have not asked that? "She'd been sick for a while. She died about half a year after that portrait. We still don't know what it was, it only affected her." He sounded distant as he spoke of his mother, and now you really felt guilty. Especially as he gazed at the painting with a forlorn look.
Without much else thought, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. To force his attention back towards you. "Show me more of the castle," You murmured. Trying hard to distract him from what you were sure was an unpleasant memory. He looked down at you for a few moments, before nodding and leading you from the dining hall and the numerous portraits that filled the walls.
He took you through the rest of the east wing, telling you about certain things when he deemed necessary. After the east wing, it was time to go upstairs. This is where several bedrooms were, heading down each wing. Some were for the royal family, others for guests. Some just existed simply as spares, which you noted were the ones Tubbo would possibly be granted.
"This is the room I stay in," Techno broke you from your reverie as he knocked on the wood of the door. Something in your stomach flipped at that. Would you be expected to stay with him? You knew the two of you were getting married, but the nerves always got you. Heat rose to your cheeks at the meer thought. You heard that huff of his as he led you a little further down the hall. It made the heat spread to your ears.
"This one is your room, to stay in and decorate as you please." He leaned around you, pushing the door open carefully. The room was large, a four poster bed settled near a window. The blanket from your mother was folded neatly on it, and you were truly relieved for it. To one side was a fireplace with a couple of chairs in front of it, a door a few feet away. The other side of the room had another door. You assumed one held your clothes, while the other held bathing chambers. Good, you had everything you would need here.
"Thank you," you sighed in relief, smiling up at him. He returned the smile, motioning you into the room.
"It's courtesy. If you need me at any point, you can check my room. If I'm not there, just ask around." You nodded at his words. Good, you could deal with that. Maybe this entire arrangement wouldn’t be all too bad. Next Chapter | >
#dream#dream smp#dream team#dream x reader#dreamwastaken#kingdom au#reader insert#sleepy bois family#sleepy bois inc#technoblade#technoblade x reader#t&t
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PART 2
When Casper was younger, age seemed to stretch out into infinity. When you are ten there is no such thing as twenty-five and when you’re twenty-five thirty feels like an entirely different planet. You never really expect when your mom gets old enough to hurt and you have to help her to the toilet in the middle of the night. Thirty-two snuck up on Casper.
She ran a hand through her hair, squinting out over the mountains. The peaks were covered in scraggly pine trees and washed-out summer skies. More than a mile high and the air was thin and chilled in her lungs. The sun dipped behind the far mountains and the gorge lit up in oranges and pinks. Dipping and rising, the mountains rolled like ocean waves. Clouds like tides nestled between the teeth of the land, glowing a sun-dipped rose color.
Has anyone else ever felt so miserable staring at something so beautiful? Casper sighed.
Maybe her 16-year-old self had been right. There is something wrong with you. Casper chuckled at the thought. At least she never had to be 16 again.
One or two houses dotted the mountain, but mostly there was nothing but sky and trees clinging to the side of slopes. Pockets of real estate had managed to establish summer homes and outdoorsy Airbnbs, but they were far between. Jay Road wasn’t even called Jay Town after all these years. The neighbors her mom prattled on about lived a mile apart each and some of the cabins didn’t even have running water, just outhouses and wood stoves. Which was fine. It was all fine.
But she was Casper’s mom. Brilliant and impractical. Affectionate and painfully honest. Chatty and yet obsessed with being alone. She was her mom and Casper had to do something about the distance to the hospital. Had to do something about the number of accidents piling up. Had to do something about the isolation.
Casper had unfortunately inherited her dad’s careful nature instead the ability to jump off cliffs into waterfalls or hitchhike across countrysides.
A fire lit in Casper’s belly. Her brother said he’d be back when he could. Australia didn’t have great cell service. Rescheduling flights was complicated. Mom would be fine, she was tough. It was only a few more months.
Casper started walking in the opposite direction of the gorge. She had always been proud to be called “mature for her age” and puffed up when her brother was scolded, told to act “more like your sister.” But it turned out nine-year-old maturity wasn’t something you got dividends on. Figured.
Casper trudged down their long driveway. Gravel skidded with each step and Casper called loudly, “Cassie!” The sound of her voice echoed from somewhere. “Here kitty, kitty!”
For all her mom’s monologuing about the virtue of living by herself, it had not escaped Casper’s notice that she named her cat Cassie. Granted, the cat’s full name was Cassiopeia and her last two cats were Orion and Ursa Major.
“Cassiopeia!” Casper was already going hoarse from yelling. She walked all the way to the road. It was all gravel and dirt and potholes, and the only details of humanity were janky mailboxes lined up in a row. Their wooden posts decaying and metal sagging inward.
A hush settled over the twilight and Casper found herself wandering aimlessly. Tiny stars popped out. She wound all the way toward the cowpaths through the woods–makeshift trails that were more like dusty grooves through the pine needles. They were called Desire Paths for those with a romantic bent.
“Cassiopeia! Cas! Here kitty.”
The pine trees had a malnourished look, thin and brittle, spread far apart from one another like estranged cousins. There wasn’t enough air or water this high up for green grass or big shrubbery and she could see her house through the trunks.
Casper kicked a stray pinecone and gave herself a little lecture: Breathe in the summer pine air. Listen to the birds. Feel the crunch of needles under your boots. Be present.
It was no use, of course, whatever she was supposed to feel out here, Casper didn’t feel it. Plus, there were mugs to wrap and dinner to cook and mom’s impossible house to finish packing up.
A soft meow cane from up ahead.
“There you are!” she called. A small black cat trotted through the trees. Casper knelt down and Cassiopeioa purred loud enough to wake the dead. The cat had a narrow elfin face and impossibly thick whiskers like an old man’s wiry beard. She was a small thing, but could generate a truly astounding loud rumble– a tiny motor trying to terraform the dusty landscape.
“Don’t tell the others,” Casper whispered. “But I always knew you were the smartest.”
Her mom trained all of her cats to come in by dark, but Cassiopioa was the only one that came when you called by name. Her rumble vibrated through Casper’s palm and there was a temptation to just . . . stay there. She could squat in the woods until her heart stopped squeezing and the world stopped spinning.
She scratched the cat behind her ears. “Sorry, bud. The cat carrier won’t be any fun but I promise it’ll be short.” Casper shook her head “Well. Let’s get today over with.” She stood. “Come on, sweetie.”
The cat trotted at Casper’s heel. She was a slow walker and would stop to sniff the ground or pretend she wasn’t following you around at all. Casper wasn’t in a hurry, though.
Twilight left ribbons of pink and purple through the sky and Casper forced herself to think about art and love and buying more plants for her apartment. She tried to listen to the music of nature or whatever it was. Casper stopped. Her skin prickled, the forest was quiet. Birdless. The cat let out a low growl and Casper jerked around.
A hiker stood behind her. The woman was pale and bedraggled and staring straight ahead. One of the hiker’s hands was outstretched behind Casper’s neck, fingers hooker, poised behind her collar.
Casper let out a muffled sound and jumped back, the cat scrambling out of the way behind her.
The hiker’s lips were cracked to the point of bleeding, the skin around her mouth chapped and red all the way to her cheek bones. Her eyes were bloodshot. A red windbreaker clung to her in damp splotches. An enormous pack hung off her shoulders, depleted and torn in parts. She was breathing hard.
The woman’s knees buckled inward. She fell to her knees.
The hiker rasped, “help me.”
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Stories for the Salt
(Genre: Spooky campfire story urban fantasy, wlw background romance)
PART 1
Casper had heard two things since she arrived at her mom’s house: "Don’t touch that." And "Fresh air is good for you." Emphasis on the good like Casper had yet to fully grasp the concept. Casper, however, was discovering a limit for how many times you could stand on top of a mountain and contemplate the meaning of life. Then again, maybe that's what is “wrong with city people.” City people were the third topic Casper was hearing all about since her arrival.
She sat on the counter, collecting plates from the top shelf of the cupboard, valiantly ignoring the eyes boring into the back of her head. Their cat, Cassie, was unhappily somewhere else and no help whatsoever--sibling solidarity a lost cause.
Her mom cleared her throat. “I love you so much, honey bee. And I am so proud of you.”
Casper groaned at the ceiling. Where was that cat?
“But,” her mom punctuated the word like an airsoft gun release. “I have decided to cancel the movers.” “The movers aren’t canceled, mom.” Casper had checked this morning.
Her mom sat at the dining room table with one foot elevated. Pillows and ice packs cushioned the sides of a gauze-strangled ankle. Casper’s mother crossed her thin arms over her chest. One set of crutches leaned against the table next to her and her other foot was shoved into a muddy boot.
Casper desperately wanted to pack the woman’s hiking boots first, but forced herself to finish with the delicates. She wrapped a plate without looking up, her mom’s eyes weighing her down like cement.
“I’m sure the movers haven’t started up the mountain yet,” she enunciated each word. “Three more weeks, honey bee. The doctor said only three more weeks–that will go by in a blink of an eye.”
Casper groaned again. Is this what dad had felt like?
She plastered on a smile. “The doctor said some distractions might help too. You know, there’s this great little Greek restaurant that opened up near me. I know how you like Greek food.”
Her mom snorted. “Better than Angelo’s? Have you met my neighbor Angelo? He’s from Greece originally and his wife is from Belgium. Lovely woman and you wouldn’t even notice the false eye. They invite me over some nights in the summer, it’s a summer home and they check in on me now and again . . .”
Ah, Casper noted her mom was returning to her other favorite topic: daughter, there are neighbors. Stop worrying. Casper also wished she could stop worrying.
She finished wrapping the last of the plates and faced her mom.
“Do Angelo or Martine have medical degrees? Mom, we’ve talked about this. This whole mountain is nearly empty. There isn’t a hospital for forty minutes. People die alone out in the woods like this.”
“Only if they’re dumb. Do I look dumb to you?” Her mom barked, utilizing one of her well-worn Mom Jokes: “Okay, don’t answer that. The point is, I’ve been getting along out here for longer than most ‘solo travelers’ have been alive.” “And even well-equipped and intelligent people make mistakes. When alone. In the woods.” She gestured to her mom’s ankle swollen up to a grapefruit.
“I could just as easily take a fall in the city.” She waved Capser off. “What are we supposed to be so scared of?”
“Bad Cell service.”
“Gloria got taken for all she was worth by a phone scammer just last year. They’re targeting old bags like me, safer to be away from all that.”
“No wi-fi!”
Her mom nodded sagely. “Safer.”
Casper rolled her eyes and started listing, “a fall off the mountain. Stalked by mountain lions. Gas leak. Contaminated water–”
“Honeybee, you must think I’m dumb.”
“Bears!” She threw her hands up. “Eaten by bears!”
Her mom tightened her arms over her chest and made a guttural noise in the back of her throat. “Better than being taken out by serial killers in the city. Or eaten by them! I’d rather be eaten by bears. At least you know what they are thinking. Bear spray works a lot better than pepper spray anyway. Do you know, most attackers use the stuff back on the woman?” Her mom clicked her tongue. “Bears don’t have thumbs.”
Casper collapsed back against the cabinet. She grumbled under her breath like she was a surly teen again, “Not yet they don’t.”
“You know something about bears I don’t, missy?” Her mom raised one eyebrow. She took a deep breath. Casper was in for it. The gusto entered her tone. “You know, last year I saw a mother and two cubs. Right by the Hand Bone's trail. And I said to myself, Isla, you're only going to see this once in a lifetime. Once! You better stay right there. I didn't move a single muscle.
I wouldn’t take the bear spray out for the life of me either. She knew–that momma knew–I had my own two cubs of my own and nothing less.” The chair creaked as her mom sat up straight in it, getting into her primary story-mode. “And you know what?”
Her mom gestured. One of the ice packs dropped to the floor. Casper jumped down from the counter. She grumbled, “You saw them again the next week.”
“Once in a lifetime I told myself, only once, but what do you know, that exact mother and her cubs were crossing Jay Road the next week. I was in my car this time, much safer, but I must’ve stayed parked there for thirty minutes.”
Casper gentled her voice. “You have lived a magical life out here, mom.” And now it’s come to an end.
“No where else like it!”
Casper picked up the ice pack and tucked it against the bandages. Her mom’s ankle was still the size of a small melon and she winced when Casper adjusted the position.
Mugs and cups next. Shoes and winter coats and sweaters after that.
“It might do you some good to spend some time out here . . .” Her mom commented, probably noting the sheer number of wallowing noises Casper had been making.
Casper tilted her head all the way back and stared at the ceiling. She gathered her strength. “There’s a huge community garden right next door to me. You’ll love it. . .” Her mom gave her plaintive look and Casper mirrored it. “I don’t want to be the bad guy. You know I’d move up here if I could– or get Joey to.”
Her mom patted Casper on the sniffed and sniffed. “Would you?”
“The movers are coming in the morning.” Casper finished lamely. Her mom took her hand back.
“You both think you know so much more about what’s good for me,” the sour-ness leached through her mother’s words–like they had been a lot lately. Less poetry readings like from Casper’s childhood or bird identification out in the yard.
“And what happens if you get in trouble and I can’t get up here in time?” Casper said quietly, heart squeezing. We could read poetry in Denver, she wanted to say. I could find you birds in the rafters.
But Casper wasn't 9 anymore.
Her mother snorted. “You mean if you can't get up here in time to wrap my plates or hand me two ibuprofen . . . The city? Really? You don’t have to go back either. There’s nowhere like this in the world, honeybee.” Her eyebrows arched. “You might even meet someone.”
Casper pushed to her feet. “It’s getting dark. I’ll get the cat in.”
“There are plenty of people out here! I’ve been asking around for. Hen, my neighbor with the chickens of all things, has a granddaughter like that." Her eyes sparkled, she laughed. "Gay I mean. Oh, I used to have trouble in polite company, but age cures all foolishness. Gay, lesbian, is your daughter a homosexual? My neighbors, the Dutch woman and the Greek, looked like they’d seen a ghoul when I asked, but they admitted it’s easier to be plane once you’ve started–”
“Love you mom!” Casper called over her shoulder. “Super proud of you. Going to text the movers now.”
She heard her mom groan in the background.
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Kismet
Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.
Previous Part: Hope
Word Count: 5707
Warnings: Language
Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)
A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.
Jonny did not know how to keep a house.
In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.
Oh, how she wished she had.
Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.
If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.
Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.
She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.
For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.
Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.
With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.
"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."
Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.
"I didn't even say yes."
"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.
"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.
"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."
Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.
"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.
"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"
"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.
As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.
"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.
Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.
"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."
"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."
"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.
A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.
"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.
The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.
"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.
Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.
“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.
“Shut up.”
“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”
A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.
“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.
Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.
“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”
Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.
With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.
“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”
For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.
Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.
“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.
With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.
With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.
Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.
Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.
Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.
Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."
Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.
"Come in."
Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."
He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.
"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."
"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."
"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."
There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.
"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."
His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.
"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.
She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.
"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.
"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."
The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.
"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.
"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.
Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.
"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"
Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.
"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.
"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.
He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.
"How much pasta would you like?"
Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.
"Enough," he grinned.
The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.
Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.
"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"
Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.
"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."
Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.
"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.
He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.
"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.
"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"
All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.
"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."
Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"
"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.
"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."
"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.
"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"
"Does she still work there?"
Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.
"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."
Shit!
Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.
"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"
He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."
"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.
For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.
He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.
A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.
"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.
Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.
"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.
When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.
“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.
When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”
“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.
The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.
“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”
A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.
“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”
“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.
“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.
“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”
“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”
Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.
“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”
That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.
For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?
No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.
When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.
“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”
Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”
When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.
“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”
Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.
“Alright,“ he smirked.
She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.
Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.
When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.
Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.
“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”
Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.
“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”
A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.
She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.
Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.
It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.
She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.
The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.
“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”
Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.
Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”
Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.
"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."
Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.
"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.
Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.
"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."
"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."
Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.
"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"
Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.
"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."
"Me too," she murmured.
Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.
#Beautiful Stranger Series#Merriell Shelton x Original Character#Merriell Shelton#Snafu Shelton#HBO War#The Pacific#The Pacific Fanfiction#Rami Malek Fanfiction
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Stories We Tell
When I was eight years old, my parents split up, and my dad, as divorced dads are wont to do, got a shitty apartment in a weird neighborhood.
The building was two stories with sixteen units. There was an in-ground pool out back, unheated in the shade, so the temperature hovered just above arctic. Half the time, instead of swimming, you ended up fishing a dead squirrel out and changing your mind. The laundry room in the basement flooded every time it rained. The appliances were junk, constantly breaking. The doors and locks, too. The landlord never fixed anything.
I didn’t give much thought to the neighbors until I was fourteen, when my dad got full custody. Someone broke into our ground floor apartment around the same time (and by “broke in,” I mean waltzed through a door with a broken lock) so we moved to the second floor, where it was a little safer. Our new balcony looked out over the rodent graveyard pool.
Over the next few years, I developed a colorful picture of our neighbors:
--
Across the hall was Doris, a madam and a raging alcoholic. She was in her fifties or sixties, but there were always astoundingly attractive young women coming and going from her apartment. She threw parties where she was the oldest woman by about three decades.
On quieter nights, Doris would sit on her balcony and get wine-drunk. If my friends and I were walking past, she would lean over the railing and shout super appropriate things at us like, “Izzat yer boyfriend, honey? R’you two using protection?!”
One time, my dad did some legal work for Doris. She paid him with two cases of wine.
(My dad doesn’t drink wine, but somehow, it was still gone by the end of the summer. I dunno, Dad, it’s a mystery to me. Couldn’t tell ya.)
--
Next to Doris was a big old dude that used to stand on his balcony in whitey tighties and watch me and the other kids while we waited for the bus. I never learned much about him, except he was creepy with a capital “Eeeugh.”
--
Across the hall from Captain Underpants were the Five to Eight Guys. So called because there were at least five of them living in that two-bedroom apartment, but no more than eight. They all looked vaguely the same: twenty-something stoners with a lot of tattoos and piercings and a fashion sense that hovered somewhere between Hot Topic and PacSun, while somehow managing to be worse than either.
I don’t think all of them were drug dealers. But at least some of them were. Absolutely. People would go into the apartment and re-emerge thirty minutes later in a veritable cloud of smoke. Our coat closet shared a wall with them, and my coats always reeked of pot. I mostly started smoking because people assumed anyway.
The summer after my Freshman year, they hung blankets up around their balcony to create an extra room. I told my dad, “That’s smart – there’s so many of them living in there, so they made an extra bedroom.”
My dad looked up at the tell-tale red glow of a grow lamp peeking out through the cracks of the blankets and told me, “Kiddo, I don’t think it’s a bedroom.”
--
Below the Five to Eight Guys were two elderly nuns.
Yes, really.
They never had a mean word for anyone: not the madam, not the drug dealers, not the creepy old man standing outside in his briefs. That wasn’t to say they had a kind word for them. Their go-to was smiling and minding their own fucking business.
I liked to think of them as our building security. Because, sure, we had no real security to speak of. The doors were always propped open, and I don’t think there was a functional smoke alarm in the entire building.
But surely God wasn’t going to let anything too bad happen to a building with nuns living in it, right?
--
Next door to the nuns was the strangest of the whole lot: Crazy Cat Man. He was Russian, in his seventies, and had lived in the building since before the landlord added the ‘no pets’ rule to the lease. And I’m pretty sure Crazy Cat Man was reasons A through Z for that rule.
I never got a real count on the cats, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of ten. But ten cats wasn’t enough to sate Crazy Cat Man’s love for animals. Oh, no.
One winter, he decided to feed the geese, and hangry geese laid siege to the building for weeks.
Another time, I heard the landlord’s voice downstairs. He was screaming, “What the fuck is the matter with you!”
And Crazy Cat Man was yelling back, “I no let squirrel in the apartment! I never!”
He had. He had spent weeks feeding the squirrels, getting friendly with them. Then he started cracking the patio door to lure them inside.
Crazy Cat Man was married. His wife had albinism and was photo-sensitive, so I only ever saw her outside once.
See, once a year, Crazy Cat man delivered phone books. It was his only job. He spent the rest of the year trying to fix his van up so it would run well enough to deliver the phone books. He was constantly working on it. Every part he put in, the van attacked and destroyed like a body rejecting a donor organ.
One day, he hadn’t pulled the van quite far enough into his garage, so when he lowered the garage door, it hit the back bumper and got stuck. That day, I learned that his wife’s absolute favorite thing in the world was watching her husband be incompetent, because she came out of the apartment for once. He couldn’t get the door back up, so he had to try to crawl under it to get inside the garage, and she was standing there shouting, “My husband is an idiot! My husband is an idiot!”
My dad and I stopped to watch this seventy year old man crawl under a mechanically compromised garage door. My dad said to her, “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be a dead idiot.”
The albino wife turned to him and hissed, “I should be so lucky.”
--
My senior year of high school, the recession hit, and my dad’s law practice went under, and my older brother died of a brain aneurysm. A week after I graduated, my dad told me we were going to be evicted, and I’d have to find somewhere else to stay until I went to college.
We moved everything out of the apartment, so nothing would be trashed when they evicted us. My dad ran off to the mountains to contemplate suicide (as one does), and, for about a month, I had this big, empty apartment to myself. My friends and I threw parties, got drunk. Hot boxed the bathroom.
And I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room, because it felt too weird to sleep in my old room with none of my things in it.
Late one of those nights, alone in my empty apartment, I heard screaming outside. I went on the balcony. All the neighbors were coming outside to see what the noise was.
On the property behind ours, across from the squirrel-killing pool, there was a huge cottonwood tree, maybe fifty feet tall. On the end of this long branch near the top, there was a raccoon. Closer to the trunk were two more. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a raccoon scream, but it’s almost human sounding.
One of the two at the trunk rushed at the third, and forced it farther to the end of the branch. Then the two raccoons started bouncing the branch. The one at the end screamed.
I think we all realized what was happening at the same time, because I heard someone downstairs say, “What the fuck,” at the same time I thought it.
It took a long time. Pushing the raccoon back, then bouncing the branch, then pushing it back again. By the end, the one raccoon was hanging from the end of the branch, which was pointing straight down. It was screaming continuously.
When it finally fell, you could hear the thud.
I heard the same person say, “What the fuck,” and I had no idea who it was.
--
If found out years later that the rumor in the complex about my dad was that he’d been a lawyer for the mob, and he got on someone’s shit list, and that’s how he ended up so broke. And it’s why he had to disappear so suddenly.
The truth was, my dad was a good lawyer, but a terrible businessman. His clients were mostly small businesses and everyday people. When they didn’t pay him, he assumed it was because they didn’t have the money, and he didn’t want to rub it in by asking.
When I heard that theory, it occurred to me that I had created characters out of our neighbors with no real regard for what was true or logical, only what was interesting. I think that night with the raccoons was the closest I ever got to any of them, as real people. Standing in the dark, faceless, watching something horrible that we had no control over.
I’m not sure what the rumors about me were, but here’s the truth: by all logic, I should have been a pretty miserable kid. My dad had untreated depression, and sometimes he stayed in bed for days. When there was no food in the fridge, I assumed it was because we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t want to rub it in by asking. I went to friends’ houses to eat. That guy that broke into our apartment when I was fourteen? He had a brain tumor, and he thought I was his girlfriend. And I should have been scared shitless that a forty-something year old man had tried to get in bed with me before my dad woke up and beat the bajezus out of him in front of me.
But instead, I started making these stories about the weirdos we lived with. I loved them. I was obsessed with them. I talked about them all the time.
“Say, Julia, how are things at home?”
“Well, you’ll never guess what the Five to Eight Guys were up to yesterday, let me tell you!”
--
I saw Crazy Cat Man two years ago. He’s still delivering phone books, and he looks nothing like I remember him.
#original writing#personal#I wrote this for an oral storytelling event a couple years ago and it makes me sad that it's just sitting in my docs so here you go lol#coping mechanisms#storytelling#cw death#cw drugs#cw alcohol#cw uhhh raccoon murder??#murder of raccoons by raccoons#i guess that's a tag now
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