#me and my brother yesterday after our last workday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter three

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1994

I'm bad at writing descriptions, so this is basically a reader insert into The First Avenger and then we'll see how it goes from there.

<< Previous Next>>

Masterlist

The afternoon passed quickly and soon it was almost time to go to bed. I was sitting in a chair, reading, in the living room. Steve was sitting in the chair to my left, drawing away in his sketchbook. For as long as I could remember growing up, Steve had wanted to become a comic illustrator. When we were younger he drew small comic strips about the adventures Bucky, himself, and I would go on. They were always fun to read, but then the US entered the war 3 years ago and Steve stopped drawing all the time and focused on trying to join the fighting. He even got Bucky to help train him at the local boxing gym in the afternoons. Now he only drew when he was anxious or if something was on his mind. I knew if I asked he would just deny it and put everything away.

“I’m off to bed Stevie. Don’t stay up too late,” I yawned. I placed my bookmark in between the pages and quietly pulled myself up from my chair. Steve followed and gave me a short hug.

“I won’t, I’ll probably head to bed here in a few minutes. Thank you for helping me pack today,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome, I’ll see you off in the morning. Goodnight.” I headed out into the small hallway and into my bedroom. I got myself ready, turned off the bedside lamp, and then crawled into bed. The day had been fast but exhausting. I let my eyes close and my mind drifted to thoughts of Bucky on the ship headed to Europe. Was he okay, did he miss me yet, was he alone? I knew he would be fine, but I prayed anyway. I prayed that he would come back to me safe and sound. I also thought of Steve and how he would be going off to training. I knew Dr. Erskine had some plan involving Steve in Project Rebirth, but I just hoped that he knew what he was doing and that Steve would be safe.

Project Rebirth wasn't something to take lightly. We were creating stronger, faster, and better soldiers. Steve had no clue what he was getting himself into and even though I couldn’t tell him I was involved with this project yet, I would be by his side each step of the way.

Finally, tiredness overtook my worried thoughts and I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning started like any other, I woke up to the jarring sound of the alarm clock by my head. After stretching I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face. The warm water helps to wake me up. When I was through with that I made my way into the kitchen to start making breakfast for myself and Steve like always. I had just placed the bread in the toaster when Steve strolled groggily into the room. He went over to the counter where I had placed our bowls of cereal and grabbed one. Then he walked over to the table to take a seat. When the toast was ready I put the pieces on a plate and took them over to the table after grabbing my cereal bowl. Steve grabbed a piece of toast off the plate and slowly started to eat.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, did you even go to bed like I told you,” I questioned him and took a few bites of my cereal.

“Yes, I went straight to bed a few minutes after you did,” he replied while glancing up from his cereal and through his lashes.

“Well, the dark circles under your eyes prove otherwise. You won't be able to stay up late and sleep in after you move into the barracks.” He shook his head and kept eating. “Well,” I started with a sigh, “I’ve got to head off to work in a few, I can walk you as far as the subway.”

“Thanks, It would be nice if you could come with me but I know you can't take off on such short notice.” I smiled at him and we continued to eat our breakfast in peaceful silence. After we finished I went to grab the empty dishes but Steve grabbed them before I could. “Here, let me. You go get ready.” I thanked him and went on to get ready for the workday.

When walking to the subway Steve and I cut up and joked like we always did. It wasn’t until we were almost at the subway stop that we became quieter. I grabbed Steve and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’ll see you later. Try not to get into too much trouble during training,” I joked before pulling away.

“I can’t guarantee that but I’ll try my best not to. Have a good day at work, and remember to lock the door when you get home, I know you forget to do that at times. I won't be there to lock it behind you if you forget.”

“That was one time, but I’ll remember to check it before I go to bed. Now go or you'll miss your ride.” I watched as he walked away, I waved to him when he turned around to me. I stood watching until he walked down the subway stairs. After he was gone I started on my way to the recruitment office, which was just about three blocks away.

It was a peaceful walk, the city was starting to come alive around me as I went. Women and men on their way to work and children on their way to school. The recruitment office was slowly coming into view, I could already see a line of young men standing from the door and down the sidewalk.

Once I made it to the building I maneuvered my way through the crowd of boys and headed to the back office where a short old woman sat at a desk sorting through some files. She looked up at me and smiled while she said, “Beautiful morning, do you have the time?”

I responded quickly with the other half of the code phrase, “Unfortunately my watch has stopped at 4:18.” She nodded and reached her hand under the desk to press a tiny button that would unlock a secret door that was hidden behind four large filing cabinets. I quickly headed in before anyone could come into the back room. The door closed softly behind me and locked back into place. I continued to walk down the dimly lit hallway until I found the women's locker room. Part of keeping the secret of working for the military was that I had to keep my uniform in the hidden base and change into it when I went into work.

After quickly changing into the uniform I left the locker room to go to the elevator that was directly at the end of the hall. I pressed the down button and the doors opened up. While inside I pressed the third level button and waited for the elevator to jerk to life.

As the doors slid open onto the third level basement floor I saw many people running around the yellow-lit hallways. I walked out into the hallway and was greeted by Agent Peggy Carter, who was walking towards me from the meeting room to my left. “Morning Carter, what's on the agenda today,” I questioned.

“Good morning Rogers, I believe today you and I will be going to Camp Lehigh to scout out the new recruits for Project Rebirth. We will be helping with their training starting before lunchtime today.” She kept walking as she explained the plans for today, I followed closely behind her.

“Then we should get to the car, it is almost nine,” I noted as we kept going through several corridors to the garage. “I have some things to tell you as soon as we leave.” Peggy nodded but kept quiet. After about a minute of walking, we made it to the large parking garage. It had been built under the secret base as a quick getaway escape or just a way to move discreetly in and out of the city. Some of the tunnels that were connected to the garage went on for several miles. The one we would be taking surfaced only a few miles away from Camp Lehigh.

As we reached the car, Peggy and I both opened our doors and slid into the back seat. A young army man was already in the driver's seat ready to drive us away. “What is it you wanted to tell me about earlier,” she asked.

“Do you remember me telling you about my older brother Steve?” I questioned while looking over at her.

“The one that keeps trying to enlist? I remember.” She nodded her head as she spoke.

“Yeah, that's the one. Well, yesterday he told me that he’s been recruited, and by Dr. Erskine. So that means that he is going to be one of the candidates for Project Rebirth. He has no clue what my job actually is, but with me being heavily involved in this project, will it be a problem? Are there any protocols that need to be followed?” She shook her head and let out a soft chuckle when mentioned Dr. Erskine. Then she looked out the window and seemed to think for a minute.

Turning back to me she said, “There isn’t any protocol that I can think of, other than that you have to treat him exactly like you would treat the other recruits. This is a sort of gray area because of your heavy involvement with this project over the last several years and the fact that Dr. Erskine himself chose your brother to be in this program.” I slowly nodded my head as she continued. “That being said, If we encounter him, I would give him a small explanation of why you are there without giving him any information about the project, and that while he is there in training, you are his superior, not his sister.”

“Okay, thanks. That's what I was thinking but I just wanted to ask you just in case. When I see him I’ll pull him over to the side and explain.” I paused for a second and lifted my hand up to grab at the necklace I had been wearing. Dangling from the small chain was a dainty art deco style ring, which once belonged to Bucky’s mother. I turned in between my fingers and watched as what little light there was, bounced off the small square diamond in the middle. I placed it back under my blouse. “James left yesterday with the 107th, I still haven’t said anything to Steve.”

“You’re going to have to tell him eventually, it will be better if it’s sooner than later. Since James is his friend he shouldn't be that mad. Trust me, I know from experience.” After saying this she looked out her window and for the briefest moment, I saw a look of sadness go across her face.

“I know I should tell him, but Steve has it in his head that James is someone who isn't going to settle down anytime soon.”

“That’s probably because neither of you has given Steve reason to not believe that James is that way. He’s your brother and he trusts your judgment, if it doesn't go over smoothly just give him time, he’ll come to realize that you and James love one another, and there really isn't anything he can do about it,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Here,” she handed me a small stack of manila folders, “look over these. They’re the files on all the project recruits.”

I opened the first folder and started to skim over the information and thought this was going to be a long drive.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

47 notes · View notes

occasionalfics · 4 years

Text

touch every star (2)

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ao3 | previous | next

Pairing: Thor X Cinderella!Reader AU

A/N: To those who are reading, thank you! I’m so glad y’all are liking this 💖 Feel free to comment and message me with thoughts if you’d like!

Warnings: Lots of angst, a really, really shitty boss, but overall this is probably the most pure fic I’ve ever written?

Words: 2,643

You’re cordially invited to Stark Industries’ Annual Christmas Extravaganza/Charity Gala. Donations optional, but appreciated.

She stared at the email, blinking mindlessly at it for at least three minutes. She’d never been invited to one of these galas before - she figured it was because she was just a secretary and couldn’t afford to make a donation for a charity gala.

But this year, she was on the list. She checked the addresses and CCs and, yup, this email had been personally sent to her. Personally - but most likely from an automated system. Still, hers was the only email listed to be sent to. Someone had put her email in there on purpose (or maybe an accident, but still...she was invited).

She wondered what she’d wear. She didn’t have anything black tie, didn’t have time or money to go shopping. Maybe Nat would have something. Or Wanda, but more than likely, Nat.

She couldn’t go, though. Could she? A secretary from the Accounting offices? Did she mean anything? Enough to be invited to the holiday gala?

Apparently, yes. She knew Nat and Wanda would insist on her going. Her two best friends were kind of like her fairy godmothers. They watched out for her whenever she needed them, encouraged her whenever she felt unsure or insecure, and promised to help her wherever they could. She’d done the same for them, but she was far less well off than they were.

After all, Nat was literally a model and Wanda was making a name for herself as a successful up and coming photographer. Y/N was just a secretary.

As if to remind her of that fact, Jasper Sitwell was suddenly standing in front of her desk. He cleared his throat and glared down at her, one eyebrow raised over the thick rim of his glasses.

“Are you going to sit there motionless all day or are you going to get to work?” he asked.

Man, she hated him. But he’d drilled into her head that he could ruin her with a simple few words. He’d told her nothing if not that he was in charge of her while she was on the clock, and if she didn’t do everything he asked, she’d be out on the street before she could make it to the lobby.

She moved immediately, picking up the papers from the night before to sort through them. “Sorry, Mr. Sitwell,” she muttered, starting piles across her desk for different people throughout the office.

“I saw you stayed late last night,” he said, a little less abrasive but just as cool. “Got everything done?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Sitwell.”

“Good.” She looked up at him in time to see him pull out two sheets of paper, which he placed in her inbound box on the corner of her desk. “I want all of this finished on time today.” With that, he walked into his office without so much as a second glance.

She sighed. The list from yesterday had been one page, single spaced, and it had still taken her almost twelve hours to complete. She’d skipped taking a lunch break and ate while she’d worked, too.

She could only imagine how long this list would take. But first, she still had to sort through the papers from last night and deliver them correctly.

---

Thor had taken bits of pieces of his conversation with Frigga to heart. Just the parts that weren’t directly set up to make him feel guilty for having a high-energy, fast-paced job.

He knew he had to take care of himself. Better care, anyway. He knew he couldn’t sustain twelve and thirteen-hour workdays forever. And, as annoying as Frigga’s nagging about him starting a family was, he did want to start a family.

He wanted a partner he could come home to, in all senses of the word. Someone kind and generous, that he could care for as much as they cared for him. A true partner. As much as he respected his parents’ relationship, he didn’t want what they had. He wanted something better.

And as he thought on that, his mind drifted to the girl from last night. It was silly of him to imagine her in that spot, given he literally didn’t even know her name, but he couldn’t help himself. Thor’d always been something of a Romantic - even in his college Frat years, he’d imagined a future with a real human, whereas most of his Brothers just wanted easy lays and Trophy Wives.

Loki had always poked his side for stuff like that. But Loki was Loki, and it was hard to know exactly what his idea of a perfect home might be one day.

Thor was thinking of that girl when Tony Stark himself made an appearance in his office. Normally, Tony called people to him, not the other way around, but they both knew Thor was a special circumstance. They were part of a little group of directors and executives - friends, really - so it wasn’t so much of a surprise to Thor that Tony was interrupting his daydream with a pristine white envelope.

“Most people got invites through their email, so appreciate my efforts to come down here. But this year, thanks to Steve, everyone is invited.”

Thor smiled and took the envelope, and despite knowing what was inside, opened it. The annual holiday gala was always a charity event, so usually it was their little group and the board of directors mingling with some celebrities and the like. People with lots of money. Not because Tony didn’t appreciate every one of his employees, really, though Thor didn’t know why this was the first year everyone in the company was included.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Thor said. “Steve’s got some good ideas, you know.”

Tony completely ignored that. He perched himself on one of the chairs facing Thor’s desk and, in his cool and unaffected tone, asked, “So you gonna bring someone? It’s a masquerade this year, you know. Gotta bring a hot date and lose her in the crowd or...some such nonsense.”

He laughed at that, but shook his head. “You know I’m not seeing anyone this year.”

“Oh good because, with so many new people there, you’ll be just single enough to pick someone up.”

“You’re as bad as my mother,” Thor said. “Did you know that?”

Tony gave him one of those half-smiles, like he’d expected Thor to say as much. “You’re not the first to say so, believe it or not. That I sound like your mother.”

They laughed together, and it took Thor a moment to realize how long it’d been since he’d seen his friends. Too long. They were all busy people but they all worked at the same company, for the same man who was in their group and sitting directly across from him at that very moment.

A gala would be nice. And maybe Tony was right.

After all, if everyone was invited, maybe Elevator Girl would show up. The only problem was that he didn’t know anything about her except that she worked on his floor and that he could recall what she looked like. A mask - kind of required for a masquerade - would make it that much harder for him to find her.

Tony sighed. “Anyway. I’m sure you’re busy - what’d you call it? - ‘protecting our asses’ and all, so I’ll leave you to it. Maybe one day this week we’ll do lunch.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, and Thor hesitantly nodded.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have my people call your people.”

And with that, he was gone.

---

She managed to finish before six, but well after five. The list was complete - thankfully, most of the tasks Sitwell had left were short or easy to do - and the office was empty, so she sighed and slipped her heels off. The blisters were worse today, but she’d thought ahead and brought a pair of plain flats to change into for the walk/ride home.

As she came up to the elevator, she couldn’t help but look from one end of the hall to the other. There were more people around than the night before, but not the man she was looking for.

The man from last night.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t be thinking about him. She didn’t know anything about him, other than he took the elevator from her floor. Once.

But he’d been nice last night, and he hadn’t done anything at all to warrant her running. If anything, she wanted to be able to apologize for scampering away like a deer in headlights because it hadn’t been polite. Even if she didn’t owe him an explanation, she wanted the chance to give one anyway.

He didn’t show, though. She figured he’d already gone home or something, because the elevator doors opened and no one stepped out onto her floor or anything. The four people already on the elevator looked at her expectantly, so she got on and turned to face the doors without a word.

No one attempted conversation. Hardly anyone moved. Two more people squeezed in before they hit the lobby, then everyone rushed out and onto the street.

Her ride home was just as lonely. No one on MTA ever stopped to talk, except the buskers and musicians that, at least tonight, avoided her car.

She shouldn’t have taken it personally. No one ever talked to her on the subway because it was New York - everyone kept to themselves and that was how the city worked. She’d never thought twice about it, but something about missing that man - the dashingly handsome man she’d spent all of ten minutes with tops - made her feel heavy as she stepped up onto the street again.

She bit her tongue as she turned a corner to head up her block. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. It was stupid to cry over nothing like this. If she were upset about Sitwell or something, she’d let herself do it, but right now she was sad about...nothing at all. A missed opportunity.

She knew what would make her feel better. Her mind drifted to the email from this morning. Maybe it was silly, but the reminder of that invitation did make her feel better. Had her walking taller, shoulders back, teeth biting into her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Oh, she wanted to go to the gala. Donation or no, she was determined. Maybe she’d meet the man from the elevator again, or maybe she’d met the Tony Stark. She’d read the email back six times over the day, so she knew full well that it was a masquerade, but she was still excited.

So excited that Nat could tell something was up the second she stepped through the door. And Nat, being relentless and stubborn, managed to convince Y/N to sit on the couch and spill all the details she had in absolutely no time.

“Holy shit,” Nat said when she’d finished. “You never get invited to Stark parties!”

“I mean, I’m not on the board or an heiress or anything so I get it,” she responded, shrugging. “Some of my coworkers think it’s basically an open invitation this year.”

“And it’s a masquerade!” Nat practically squealed, which made Y/N even more excited than she already had been.

Y/N nodded, the tiniest bit of embarrassment seeping into her joy. She cleared her throat before she said, “I, uh. Kinda need help finding something to wear.”

Nat stood up so quickly she nearly toppled over. But she was lithe and graceful - a former dancer - so she caught herself quickly and turned toward her bedroom.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked, trying to follow with her eyes.

“Getting my bag and shoes - we’re going shopping!”

Wanda appeared at that. She asked what all the noise was about, and before Y/N could even attempt to resist or refuse, Nat was back and informed her of everything. Between the two of them, Y/N knew there was no way she’d get out of this.

Nat texted someone as she headed for the door. She sent the message, then looked up at Y/N with a smirk and nodded for Wanda to join them.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked.

“We,” Nat answered. “And it’s not even eight. Most stores are still open, but I’ve got an in at one in particular.”

---

“I don’t know,” she murmured, moving the skirt around. “It seems like a lot.”

“Babe, you’re going to a black tie charity gala,” Wanda said. “It’s all gonna be a lot.”

She looked at her reflection and sighed for the millionth time. The dress was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny it. Deep cut and embellished, the soft material flowed around her in light floral patterns and it all made her feel…

Well, she knew what she should feel. She should see her reflection and think Princess, but that had never described her. Nat and Wanda were the only ones in her life that looked at her and saw more than she did, so it didn’t surprise her that they liked the dress.

And she liked it, too. Loved it, actually. The dress itself was amazing, but on her… She couldn’t help but think she was dragging it down. Or, as a consultant on Say Yes to the Dress might say, the dress was wearing her, not the other way around.

“You look hot,” Nat said, standing to walk around the stool Y/N was perched on. “This color is perfect for your skin tone and I have a headband that would go so well.”

“I need a mask,” she responded. She said it like...like it was an excuse not to buy this dress. As if a mask couldn’t be found or made to match it.

Her friends, however, were not going to let her leave empty handed. And they both loved this dress. The last two had gotten nods of approval, but not like this. Not warranting both Nat and Wanda standing at her sides, watching the mirror with her, both moving the skirt around with smiles.

“I’ll take care of the mask,” Wanda said. “You should get this dress.”

“I’m only gonna wear it once-”

“Or we can find you another event to wear it to. Or one of us will wear it next.”

“Exactly,” Nat said. “So, really, what’re you scared of?”

“The price-”

“We’ll help.” Wanda smiled softly, and before Y/N could attempt to deny the offer, she held a hand up. “We want to help. Besides, if we put in some money that gives us more incentive to want to wear the dress so we can all get a use out of it, right?”

“It’s too nice for me.”

“That’s just a blatant lie,” Nat said. “Y/N, you look fucking amazing. We should all get this dress. You’ll just be the first one to wear it.”

She did have to admit to herself that that sounded...fair. Maybe not conventional, but fair. Fair enough that she could hold herself a little higher, stretch her neck a little longer and really see what her friends were seeing. Once she stopped questioning whether she was worthy of such a dress and just enjoyed being in it, she could see herself walking into the gala in it, the hem flowing around her heels as all eyes turned on her. No one would know who she was unless they worked with her, and even then, she’d be wearing a mask.

She’d look mysterious. Pretty. Sexy, even.

Like Nat, who’d have to have the dress taken in a little after Y/N and Wanda wore it, but she probably knew people for that, too.

“So?” Wanda asked.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

#thor fanfic #touch every star fic #touch every star #cinderella au #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader

42 notes · View notes

jarienn972 · 5 years

Text

A Simple Spell - Chapter One

A 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

This day managed to sneak up on me a bit but it is finally time for me to start posting my 2019 @cssns story! After having so much fun taking a few creative challenges with last year’s event, I decided to take a huge chance by creating a bit of an AU universe here. Our setting will still be Storybrooke but I’ve twisted up some of the familial relationships to develop a different world where Emma is a young deputy who has just recently discovered a whole lot about herself - family she didn’t know she had and powers she didn’t know she had.

I want to extend huge thanks to the organizers of this event which has already spawned some amazing stories (many of which I need to get caught up on!) I also am so grateful for the assistance of my beta reader, @lassluna for helping me smooth out a few things and for the amazing art created by @cocohook38! (Edited to add this stellar piece of artwork to my post to complete the package!)

I am going to try to get new chapters posted every Monday, job permitting. I accepted a new position at work last month that curtailed my writing time a bit, but I’m working to make sure updates are as prompt as can be. Patience will be greatly appreciated and I do hope that everyone will enjoy reading this tale as much as I’m enjoying writing it!

Edited to add links: AO3 and FF.net and also added a cut that didn’t save yesterday.

If there was one thing that Emma Swan had learned during her brief residency in Storybrooke, it was that she had a lot to learn.

A whole lot to learn.

Perhaps it was finding the right teacher that had made adjusting more of a challenge than she’d anticipated but there was no doubt that she’d struggled during those early days. She’d battled with her self-confidence and fought against a sometimes crippling loneliness, but she’d needed to find those with like abilities - because in a town blessed (or cursed) with magic, proper instruction in the ways of the supernatural was an absolute necessity.

Eight months ago, she would never have even dreamed that a place like Storybrooke existed, let alone discover that this unusual little town had been her birthplace. Little details about her mysterious past emerged every day, but none more startling - and completely life changing - than the fact that she possessed a natural ability to utilize magic. It was becoming both equally fascinating and terrifying to learn new details about her past and the family that she and her late mother, Ava, had left behind.

Since she was a little girl growing up in one of the poorer sections of Boston, Emma had possessed an intense curiosity about her family. Maybe part of that stemmed from growing up in a city so steeped in history. She’d yearned to know more about her own ancestry, but her mother had never been particularly forthcoming about anything. It was always as though their past was some deep, dark secret - especially any mention of Emma’s absent father who her mother scarcely even spoke of.

After her mother passed away, Emma found that her desire to find the family she was missing couldn’t be tempered. She began actively utilizing resources available to her through her position as a bail bonds person to try to find any remaining family she might have and eventually, her tireless research led her to a half-brother, David Nolan, who resided in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine and served as the town Sheriff. She’d taken a step out of her comfort zone to reach out and after a few weeks of telephone conversations, David and his wife, Mary Margaret, convinced Emma to come visit them.

Initially, Emma had planned for just a brief weekend trip but as soon as she arrived in the quirky little seaside town, she found her insatiable curiosity piqued. By the end of the second day, she’d felt so comfortable and so at home here that she made the decision to relocate to Storybrooke - and that was when the fun began. David had hired her on as a deputy, giving her plenty of access to the town records to continue her research, understanding her need to fill in the gaps of her heritage. Absolutely nothing had prepared her for the shock of discovering the town’s biggest secret until she’d barged in on a drunk and disorderly call down at the Rabbit Hole and stumbled upon a man levitating above the bar, cheerfully showering the bartender and a few fellow patrons with what smelled like bourbon.

Stranger yet, Emma had sensed an odd energy even before stepping into the tavern. There was some sort of a connection she’d experienced with the levitating drunkard and he’d instantly dropped to the floor in a heavily-sauced heap the moment she’d raised her hand toward him. She hadn’t known what it was back then, but it had been the moment she discovered her first hint that she was a witch. And not just any witch - she’d been born with potential not seen before in Storybrooke - only she didn’t know it yet.

She hadn’t even known how to address the incident with David until he’d burst out in a fit of laughter. Having spent a lifetime in Storybrooke, he’d already figured out what his younger sister was skirting around. He confirmed for her that while neither he nor his wife possessed any otherworldly abilities (aside from his charming personality), the town was indeed was ripe with magic. Magic had been that unusual energy she’d sensed enveloping her and he was certain that if she could feel it, she could wield it, and if that was indeed the case, she needed to find a tutor quickly. He’d seen far too many citizens here who’d been driven mad by powers they couldn’t fully harness or control.

And oh boy, did she ever have a lot to learn!

She had a flurry of thoughts crossing her mind as she eased her battered old Volkswagen Beetle to the curb outside of the Sheriff station. It had just now dawned on her that today marked exactly eight months since she’d first communicated with her long-lost brother and found her life turned entirely upside down, although certainly for the better. She’d given up a lonely life of chasing bail jumpers in Boston in favor of this small town’s laid back lifestyle - well, mostly laid back.

She recalled arriving here expecting to deal with minor little crimes like tractor tipping, petty larceny and the occasional pickpocket fleecing the tourists visiting their picturesque seaside haven, but it certainly wasn’t what she’d found. Even though David hadn’t been particularly forthcoming about the town’s supernatural side, Emma had gotten used to arresting people for placing evil spells on their neighbors to make their crops fail or hexing their dog for growling at them. It was now just part of her day to day routine and she kept trying to immerse herself into magical education to hone the skills she’d recently discovered.

David had encouraged her to talk to Storybrooke’s Mayor, Regina Mills, who was well-known to be a practitioner of Wiccan arts. Her sister, Zelena, was also a seasoned witch and the two of them had developed a powerful coven that at one time had included several members Emma hadn’t even realized practiced witchcraft like the town’s pawn shop owner, a local waitress, and one of the elementary school teachers. Regina had initially been reluctant to bring Emma into their fold due to her inexperience, but upon learning she was David’s sister, she’d caved and agreed to help Emma. Emma had been studying under Regina and Zelena’s tutelage for nearly six months now which almost seemed unbelievable. Her brain was filled with Latin words and phrases that formed the simple spells she’d practiced and she’d helped brew a few potions, almost grateful that she didn’t know what some of the unsavory ingredients actually were.

She smiled to herself as she clambered out of her car, pinning her deputy badge to the waistband of her jet black twill pants. She felt she was adapting fairly well to her new reality and certainly believed that she was more confident today than she’d been eight months ago, and now it was time to start a new workday. She raised the rear hem of her crimson leather jacket to tuck her service weapon into the holster she wore at the small of her back, hearing the echo of David’s repeated complaints and suggestions that she switch to a shoulder or hip holster. She just found this style more comfortable as it allowed her to easily conceal her weapon beneath her nearly ever-present leather jacket, the garment she wore as though it were some sort of magical armor even long before she’d set foot in Storybrooke.

She unconsciously wrapped a stray tendril of blonde hair around her index finger, slipping the wayward strands behind her ear as she pushed open the front door of the station and strolled inside. Unsurprisingly, early bird David was already present, chatting with his other deputy, Graham Humbert. From what she could garner walking in on the conversation, they were discussing one of the town’s most bewitching potions - the virtually irresistible brew that Granny served at her namesake diner. By the level of chipper she was encountering in the squad room, and from the aroma wafting from the takeout cups in hand, she knew they’d both already partaken of Granny’s intoxicating elixir, which made her a little jealous that she’d have to settle for the inferior substance found in the station’s break room that passed for coffee.

“Good morning, Emma,” David greeted her. “I was wondering if you were going to make it in on time this morning. You got home pretty late last night…” She knew David wanted to ask if she’d had a date, but he held his tongue. It was no surprise that he and Mary Margaret had been encouraging her to go on a few dates, but considering that the other person present had been the other half of a disastrous evening a few weeks back, she was glad he didn’t ask. That single dinner date with Graham had not gone well, but they’d chosen to put it behind them so they could remain amicably working together.

As much as she’d appreciated David and Mary Margaret’s offer to rent out the upstairs bedroom of their loft, the longer she stayed, the more she thought it might be time to start searching for a place of her own. She’d inevitably wear out her welcome and there was definitely a privacy issue should she ever want to bring a date home. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing you wanted your brother knowing - or especially hearing…

“I’m sorry if I woke you up when I came in last night,” she replied as she made her way across the squad room to her desk against the far wall. She took a precursory glance at the stack of files awaiting her before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. “Had a late night lesson with the Evil Queen and I stuck around the vault to read up on spell casting.”

“You know, you really should stop calling Regina, the Evil Queen,” David chided her, trying to keep a straight face until he was betrayed by a chuckle he couldn’t hold back. Emma certainly wasn’t the only person in town who used the nickname in reference to the town’s mayor, but Emma was one of the more vocal - probably the only one who’d ever said it to Regina’s face and lived to talk about it. “I know she’s a bossy pain in the ass, but she’s still trying to help you develop your magic.”

“I know, I know,” she assured her brother as she dropped onto her chair. “Some days, I could do without her condescending attitude though. I know she’s trying to help, David, but there are times when she treats me as though I’m beneath her and it really irks me. Same goes for the Wicked Witch…”

“The Mills family has been running this town for decades,” Graham chimed in. “They’ve been practicing magic since childhood, so it’s probably best to just give them a break. They wouldn’t have agreed to accept you into the coven if they didn’t believe you had potential.”

“Eh, I’m not worried about them throwing me out over nicknames. They call each other far worse and you should hear some of the things they call me,” Emma said, dismissing any worry the two men had. “Usually it’s The Prodigal or sometimes just Lucky Bitch. It’s all in good fun.”

“Yeah, well anyway, it’s time for the two of you to get to work,” David stated as he held up two slips of paper in his right hand. “Which of you wants to take the disorderly conduct call and which of you wants to take the vandalism call from the middle school?”

“Such excitement,” Emma groaned. “I’ll flip you for it, Humbert…”

“Oh yeah, when they’re equally bad, does it really matter?” Graham complained.

“You two decide quickly or I delegate,” David insisted. “I’m going to be in my office going over last week’s reports. Anything either of you would like to amend before I review them?” Emma and Graham each shook their head and began to debate which investigation would be the lesser one while David rolled his eyes at his deputies. He left them to their argument as he headed for the relative peace and quiet of his office.

———-

In the end, Emma wound up following up on the disorderly conduct call from the town harbormaster. David had insisted that she take the Sheriff cruiser instead of her own beat up Bug so that her arrival would look as official as possible since the complaint involved a ship full of merchant sailors from out of town. She hadn’t bothered with the lights or siren as the reported incident wasn’t currently in progress, having occurred earlier that morning. The harbormaster had encountered a drunken sailor tossing barrels and something described in the complaint as floatation devices into the bay. She wasn’t quite sure what these floatation devices might be, but she was certainly curious.

Her earlier phone call to the harbormaster’s shack had gone unanswered so she decided to head down to the marina and pay a visit to the vessel the unruly sailor had arrived on - an ancient-looking wooden merchant ship moored at the marina. She parked the cruiser at the harbor entrance, a few hundred yards from the gangplank and as she climbed out of the vehicle, she couldn’t shake the thought that the boat looked suspiciously akin to a pirate ship straight off of a Hollywood film set. While it might not have been uncommon for Storybrooke to attract some eclectic tourists, she wasn’t entirely convinced that the crew milling around the marina were actually merchants.

The vessel’s soaring masts towered above everything else in the harbor, maybe even over most of the buildings in town. It was also buzzing with activity this morning as crew members were busy loading and unloading cargo, some hoisting crates and barrels from pier to deck with a system of ropes and pulleys while others hefted merchandise up and down the gangplank. Emma made certain that her badge was prominently visible as she strolled furtively towards the gangplank and asked the first person she encountered in her path who was in charge. The uninterested and seemingly annoyed man stabbed a filthy finger at the top of the gangplank and replied that she needed to ask for the captain.

Emma nodded and thanked him before forging her way up to the ship’s deck while the man she’d so rudely interrupted resumed his tasks. She took a tentative step onto the plank decking and spied a mousy little man clad in a corduroy overcoat that had definitely seen better days and who sported a shapeless red knit cap atop his head. The man didn’t appear to have noticed her arrival so Emma called out in attempt to garner his attention.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the captain. Could you tell me where to find him?” When it didn’t appear that he’d heard her query, Emma repeated her request a smidge louder. “Pardon me - where might I find the captain?”

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” the man apologized profusely as he spun around to face the unexpected guest. “Cap’n doesn’t like when we fall behind schedule.”

“So he’s here?”

“Who’s here?” the befuddled man asked her, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“Your captain,” she clarified, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is he here?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. He’s in his quarters.”

“Alright then, how might I find the captain’s quarters?” she pressed, growing rapidly frustrated with the lack of cooperation she was getting.

“Oh, the captain wouldn’t like a stranger poking about his ship. I’ll go fetch him. Please - wait here, miss…”

“Deputy,” Emma corrected him as he scurried across the deck, uncertain of whether he’d even heard her. She didn’t have much experience with ships, especially not with relics like this one but she had to admit that there was a certain beauty to the expanse of soaring masts and billowing sails. Well, sails that would have been billowing were they not lashed down while in port. She’d become so entranced that she failed to notice the figure wordlessly approaching her until he spoke.

“Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Love,” a velvety, deep voice with a hint of a British accent greeted her, rendering her momentarily speechless as she turned in the direction the voice had originated and caught her first glimpse of the captain. The timbre of his voice should have served as warning but instead, did nothing to prepare her for the appearance of the man who stood before her. He was probably a hair shy of six foot tall but it wasn’t his height that gave off an imposing impression, rather his all-black attire. Slim, black denim trousers. Polished black leather boots with a hint of a silver cap at the toe. A jet black oxford style shirt topped with a three button black leather vest. And over the entire ensemble, he sported a black leather jacket that glistened with a hint of salt spray and fell just past his hips.

Her gaze darted upward to get captured by a pair of sparking, sapphire blue eyes beneath a fringe of wind-tossed dark, chestnut brown hair. A broad smile stretched across his lips and one eyebrow inched upward in amusement as he soaked in her perusal of him.

“See something you like, Love?” he teased, lip curling into a lopsided smirk as he relished the attention. “My first mate, Mr. Smee, advised me that there was a lovely lass asking for the captain, and as I’ve never been one to keep a beautiful woman waiting, you now have my full and prompt audience. How may I be of assistance, M’lady?”

The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly that Emma nearly forgot why she was here, but after a few stunned seconds, her sensible self clawed her way to the surface and reminded her that now wasn’t the time to get lost in a handsome face. She had work to do. “It’s Deputy,” she corrected him. “Deputy Emma Swan of the Storybrooke Sheriff department. You’re the captain of this boat?”

“The proper term would be ship,” he countered, visibly cringing at the injustice done to his vessel. “And aye, I am Captain Killian Jones.” He extended his right hand in greeting to shake hers. She scarcely noticed that he kept his left arm tucked behind his back as he switched seamlessly to a business-like tone. “Since I don’t have reason to believe this is a social call, Deputy - as much as I might like it to be - how may I assist you today?” It was also his turn to surmise who he was dealing with in this pretty blonde package. She was certainly quite guarded. He’d noticed that the moment she realized he’d caught on to her visual assessment of him. She’d instantly faded into an embarrassed defensive before coming back with the steely law enforcement facade. But he’d also spied an intensity and curiosity lurking behind the warm emerald of her eyes. What a challenge it would be to find her softer side, he thought as she responded.

“Well, Captain,” she began in a fully, professional composed voice, “my office received a complaint this morning from the harbormaster that someone from this ship got a little too rowdy.”

“My apologies, lass,” he said with an over exaggerated sigh. “One member of my crew, Mr. Parsons, imbibed himself a smidge too much of your town’s finest libations. He returned to the ship too inebriated to locate the gangplank and when confronted by your harbormaster, he became perhaps a tad too belligerent and began hefting things about.”

“That much I’m aware of,” she reminded him with a note of sarcasm in her response. “The harbormaster reported several barrels and other assorted items being thrown into the bay. He hasn’t yet formally reported any damages…”

“It isn’t likely that he shall,” Captain Jones replied with a flat dismissal of her concerns. “I’ve paid him a tidy sum already to cover the damages and the offender, Mr. Parsons, has been confined to the brig as punishment.”

“May I speak to Mr. Parsons?” Emma queried, a tad miffed that the matter appeared to have been resolved long before she’d arrived. She was supposed to be representing the law here, not this cocky visiting ship’s captain. “I would like to speak to both him and the harbormaster before I declare this matter closed or decide that additional charges might still apply.”

“You are more than welcome to speak to him once he sobers up,” the captain assured her.

“Good. You aren’t planning on leaving port any time soon, are you?”

“No, Deputy. We’ll be here for the remainder of this week as we’re awaiting supplies yet to arrive from out of town.”

“Good,” she repeated. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“I shall eagerly await your return,” he responded with a salacious grin. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Deputy Swan.” Emma rolled her eyes as he made his exit by giving her a sweeping mock bow. Was this guy actually for real? At this point, she wasn’t even certain what to put in her report aside from the fact that the matter appeared to be closed - at least until she spoke to the harbormaster.

But there was something else nagging at her subconscious as she descended the gangplank to the dock and Emma wasn’t sure how she should feel about it. The encounter with Captain Jones had her rethinking her actions from last night and silently wondering if perhaps she might have gone a bit too far… She had to push that out of her mind immediately though because there was no chance the two could be connected…

No chance at all…

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs ff au #cs au ff #a simple spell #witch emma

44 notes · View notes

nicomacheannothing · 5 years

Text

My birthday textwall...

Well, my birthday was yesterday. Unfortunately, it was also sort of one of those days. It wasn’t all bad, but having an off day on your birthday does suck a bit. 😓

I overslept. That’s kind of what kicked off the unfortunate-ness. I didn't oversleep by too much, I was still out the door on time, but it was enough to make me rush around. When Austin texted me to let me know he was on his way to pick me up, I wasn’t even dressed yet. I had to take the dog with me too, so it was a mad dash to get everything together. Not the end of the world, just irritating. As I ran out the door though, I walked past the kitchen and noticed what looked like an unexpected cake sitting on the table... I didn’t have time to check it out, but this will become relevant later. So I have the dog and I’m rushing out to Austin’s car and I find out that he overslept too. Like REALLY overslept: he was out of bed and out the door in 15 minutes. He was going to be editing with a client yesterday and had to be on time. He was frazzled as heck. When we got to work, he immediately got started on what he had to do. I was still a little frazzled too, but I figured that a rough morning was just a momentary blip and that things were bound to get better. I was wrong... Context: Alanis Morissette is going on that 25th Anniversary tour next year; everyone is talking about it haha. Austin’s mom, Leslye, is a huge Alanis Morissette fan and I mentioned to Austin that getting her tickets to the show in Detroit would make a good Christmas gift. Austin thought it would be cool to go as well, along with Mady and Julius, if they were interested. Ok. We decided to just talk to Leslye about it rather than making the tickets a gift. 6 people going to a concert requires planning. Presale tickets became available yesterday, so Austin and I talked to Leslye the night before to figure out how much she wanted to spend, etc. We wanted to know exactly what we were doing because we planned to snap up the tickets as soon as they went on sale at 11am.

Like I said, Austin was going to be editing with a client at that time. I asked him if he wanted me to buy the tickets so that he wouldn’t have to stop in the middle of the edit. He said “no, I think I can do it. [Client] should understand”. I swear that’s exactly what he said. Austin is really picky about his entertainment experiences anyway, so I figured he’d want to pick the seats, etc. Once that conversation was over, I just stopped thinking about the tickets... Then, at noon yesterday, Austin runs into my office from the edit, freaking out. He said that he totally forgot about the tickets and that he meant to set an alarm to remind him, but he forgot to do that too. Then, he started barking at me saying “This shouldn’t have been on me, this shouldn’t have been on me!” implying that I had somehow unfairly saddled him with the responsibility of buying the tickets. I felt terrible. I was half hurt that he was yelling at me and half guilty that I didn’t just set my own reminder anyway in case he forgot. But he told me he could do it! Idk, I just felt like I had let him down in some way...

We didn’t end up getting presale tickets. The actual sale starts in a couple days, so we might still be able to go. We looked at pictures of the venue, and the general admission lawn might not be so bad. The client we were working with might even have a connection that can help us... but Austin was so upset I really couldn't forget about it for the rest of the day... 😢 The ticket drama cut into our lunch break and so we were only able to grab McDonald's. The client wanted to eat with us. She’s nice, but she chews with her mouth open and she’s a Trump supporter. She kept saying weird things during lunch like throwing shade at people who are pale and/or skinny? And then she kept talking about how Trump was a hero for coming in and “draining the swamp”. Of course, I just had to smile and nod cause she’s a client. That, and she kept saying weird things like that and then offering to do really nice things like inviting Austin and I to use her cottage in the summer if we wanted a vacation? It was a very emotionally confusing time. 😕 The rest of the workday went by normally. I went back to Austin’s house, put on my new Killstar dress to get ready to go out. Austin got me a small gift: a little Kylo Ren lego guy and an electronic hand warmer, which was very thoughtful. It really seemed like things were going to get better. BUT IT’S TIME FOR MORE CONTEXT! I think I mentioned in a previous post that my brother wasn’t going to make it home my birthday week. He won’t be able to make it home at all until the 23rd, so my parents and I decided that we would just do birthday stuff without him. Tuesday (my actual birthday) is a really rough workday for my mom and she often isn’t even home until late, so we decided that we would go out to dinner and do cake and presents on Saturday. This was also going to work out because Leslye and Jerry wanted to take me to lunch, but couldn’t because of the client edit. They decided to take me to dinner instead. I double-checked with my dad Monday night to make sure that Saturday was still the day we were planning on doing birthday stuff. He said that was fine. Before going to dinner with Austin and his parents, we had to swing by my house to drop off the dog. When I got there, my mom was unexpectedly home. Crap, I felt bad that she was there and I was about to go to dinner without them. I thought about inviting them last minute, but they were already eating pizza when I got home. Crap! When I walked in, my mom asked if I had seen the cake. Um, no? We always do cake and presents together for birthday celebrations in my family. We have since I was born. Since we were celebrating on Saturday, I wasn’t expecting a cake on Tuesday. But my parents got one. A full-sized, fully decorated cake that I knew I would have no time to eat. That, and it wouldn’t be good on Saturday. If we wanted to celebrate normally on Saturday, my parents would have to get another one. We always but a particular type of cake from a local bakery and it’s delicious but expensive. There was no way I was going to be able to finish this one. It was really cute too, decorated with little dogs and cats. And like... Austin was waiting in the car for me as I stood there in the kitchen, so I felt like, not only was I running out on my parents, but I couldn’t even properly show appreciation for the cake and card that they got me. I felt so devastatingly terrible and confused. I didn’t know what to do. I just started feeling worse and worse knowing that Austin was waiting for me while I tried to figure out whether or not to just take the cake with me or leave it at home or what? I left the kitchen and went into the bathroom. I almost had a panic attack, but didn’t. I decided to just suck up my feelings and I took the cake with me. It needed to be refrigerated, but it was cold outside, so it would be ok to leave it in the car while we were at dinner. I cried in the car all the way to the restaurant because I felt horrible like I screwed everything up. Dinner was ok. The food was REALLY good. We went to HopCat, so I got to have some good beer and their super awesome fries. I wanted to try to suck up my feelings again and just let things get better. Then, I was a little cold, so I put my jacket on. Austin asked me if I was cold and if I had brought the hand warmer he got me with me. I told him that it was at home with my bags. I was rushing out and it was still wrapped anyway! Plus, my shoulders were cold, not my hands. It didn’t matter though, he got all annoyed and I just started to feel horrible all over again. I really just felt like I was screwing up everything for everyone no matter how hard I tried. Austin and I went back to his house after dinner... but I just felt like shit. I really, really wanted to just force myself to be happy, but I couldn’t. Austin and I just laid down on the floor of his living room and I grabbed some leftover punch that his mom had made for the party. I just drank some of it out of a mason jar and we listened to The National. That was the best part of the day, tbh. I realized that that was all I really wanted to do, just drink and talk and hang out. I really wish that Mady, Julius, and Shelby had been in town so maybe we could have just gone out and chilled. 😕

Austin and I also put his Christmas tree up! That was good too, even though I wasn’t exactly in the mood. We did it differently this year and used ornaments that Austin had received as gifts every Christmas since he was born. It was cool to see them all, especially the ornaments that he made himself as a kid. We ate some cake as well, ftr. 😋

So yeah, I guess everything turned out ok, but it was a pretty unfortunate day overall. I don’t really even feel like I had a Birthday. I guess they can’t all be happy. *shrug* I’m still kind of sad, but I’m trying to focus on the positive stuff. It was nice of my parents to get me a cake and dinner was good. I do really like Austin’s presents. And he got me tickets to see Star Wars when it comes out! Plus, I still have dinner with my folks on Saturday. Maybe the actual fun parts of my birthday are just going to be uhhh stretched out a bit. 😅And I have Christmas to look forward to. That’s what I’m going to go with. Sorry about the text wall, just had to get all this off my chest. I have more t write about for sure, but that’ll be for tomorrow. Back to work for now!

#personal #personalblog

2 notes · View notes

crazedlunatic · 5 years

Text

They’re all gone!

“Something is very, very wrong in the world.”

Bob, who was mostly asleep on the couch despite knowing there was a guinea pig loose in the house and he was highly allergic, cracked open an eye. “I’m tired.”

“You can’t sleep right now! What’s wrong with you? There is obviously some parallel universe merging with ours or the world is about to end because they’re all gone so we need to take advantage of it.” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy.

“And do what?” Bob yawned and then gave her a funny look

“I don’t know. Pretend we’re not almost past the mid forties age? We could get drunk or go have sex somewhere we shouldn’t… or even just have sex at all. I’m willing to let you in my pants even though I’m this pregnant.”

“You haven’t been able to wear pants in two and a half months, Sar. All you’ve been wearing is dresses.”

“Easy access?” She gave him a look. “While you’ve been playing Sleeping Beauty, Jake picked up Sammy since they’re taking the girls to that exhibit, Charlie and Brady don’t live here anymore… Shouldn’t we take advantage of the situation?”

“Uh, we do have the mini you running around here. Wait, why’s it so quiet?”

“I told you. All of the kids are gone. Literally all of them! Mallory picked Em up three minutes ago. She’s going to Aroostook with them—and, yes, I told them they are not to let her see my parents or aunts and uncles at any cost for even two minutes… not that your brother or Mallory would have let that happen anyway… or my brothers, who she will get to see…”

“Wait.” Bob sat up. “We have not had a day without kids—even more than one hour outside of the workday without a kid, since we were 21.”

“I know! I don’t know what to do. I cleaned this morning thinking we were going to do something with Em, you and she got the groceries yesterday, Sam took care of the turtles, and I put out random tufts of hay for Henry whenever and wherever he chooses to show up.” Sarah said. “Do you think the apocalypse is coming? No matter what is going on, sex is the answer. Where would the riskiest place be in New York City? I’ll go get the laptop.”

Bob looked around the room from his seat on the couch, very confused. “Maybe our dear president has come up with a plan to take all kids… and it wasn’t really Jake and Mallory that took them… it’s all robots and they’re going to use them for the worser bad.”

“Worser bad?”

“You know… like greater good? But the opposite?”

“You’re one of the top fifteen lawyers in the county and that is what you come up with? The state of the country really is in disarray.” Sarah joked.

“I don’t know what to do… Should I go to work?”

“Is it Saturday? Maybe it was a dream and we’re supposed to be at work… although if I got fired, I’d be totally okay with it.”

“Yeah, no you wouldn’t. You’d cry for days because you’re pregnant and hormonal.”

“That’s true.” Sarah sighed. “Plus, I like knowing Charlie’s alive the days we work together at least. He’s just so busy.”

“Yeah. He’s us at 22.” Bob nodded. “Baby, school, and a job.”

“I don’t know what to do without kids.” Sarah whined. “Let’s just have sex here—”

Bob perked up.

Sarah stood and then cringed. “Never mind. He just woke up.”

Bob groaned.

“You’re the one that freaks out when the babies kick during sex. You only have yourself to blame.” Sarah shrugged. “I could care less. He kicks me all day anyway.”

“Yeah, no.” Bob sighed.

Both of their eyes lit up when the door opened and Blaine came in.

“Thank God!” Sarah went to hug him.

“Hi.” Blaine hugged her back, giving Bob a confused look.

Sure, Sarah had given him hugs before. But not as soon as he walked in the door. Honestly, she was usually busy attempting to control Emily or arguing with Sam to get him to leave Fortnite and ‘spend five minutes with the family.’ Which usually then led to Bob demanding he come and spend fifteen minutes with them after Sam ignored Sarah.

“They’re all gone!” Sarah said. “But you’re here now so all is right in the world.”

Bob shook his head and covered his face… mainly because Blaine didn’t know Sarah that well.

“Do I ever get to meet your partner? You need to bring him over. I know weekdays are tough because Robbie makes you stay until 11:00 at night.” Sarah said. “But—”

“I what?” Bob looked at her. “Sar, he’s not doing cases yet. He has to… you know… pass the bar exam. All he does is watch me and I don’t make anybody stay until 11:00 at night!”

“God, that must be horrible having to watch him all day.” Sarah looked at Blaine, facial expression very serious. “Is he paying you to pretend to like him? Level with me here.”

“No.” Blaine laughed.

“It was the hug after the talk about your parents, wasn’t it? He gives really good hugs. He has since we were eleven.” Sarah looked thoughtful. “It can’t be your sunny disposition, Robbie.”

Blaine bit back a smile as Sarah smiled sweetly at Bob.

“He wasn’t always this grumpy.” She told Blaine, looking back at him. “If he would lower his number of cases, he would be a lot happier.”

“Each case brings the firm more money which brings me more money which really means it brings you more money to spend on expensive clothes for our eight year old.” Bob said. “You were the one who was so gung ho about Tammy and I opening CMJ in the first place.”

“Well, we needed the extra money.”

“Well… we’ll need the extra money again if I cut down my caseload.”

“Don’t text your mother or sister!” Sarah reached over and grabbed the cell phone he had just unlocked. “Cut the cord.”

Bob glared at her, handing her his other phone since she was still holding her hand out. Without even looking at Blaine he said, “Shut up, Blaine.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Blaine said, trying not to smile.

“I don’t know why everyone is so scared of him.” Sarah said.

“It’s because he’s so quiet.” Blaine answered. “I think it makes people nervous.”

“Yeah. You and Ryan say he’s quiet but I don’t see it when he’s home.” Sarah said.

Blaine looked at Bob, surprised.

“Then again you were really quiet until we had dated for a couple of months… but you haven’t really shut up since.” Sarah looked at Bob and then Blaine. “He was so cute. He used to have all of these freckles and he was so quiet but so sweet… that boy is gone. He is still sweet, though.”

Bob rolled his eyes and muttered something. Blaine didn’t catch most of it but did hear ‘always bringing up my freckles.’

“Are you excited for the baby?” Blaine asked her.

“We are. Honestly, we weren’t even supposed to be able to get pregnant with Emily so it’s more exciting.” She smiled. “I think the timing coinciding with the big move and Robbie’s dad dying makes it a little more difficult but, you know… we always wanted a big family. I have three siblings, he’s got four… and his mom is super over the moon about it… she kind of baby’s Robbie still, though, so there was no surprise there.”

“It’s true.” Bob admitted. “I think it’s because I’m the youngest and quietest.”

“Enough about us! How are you? What did you go to undergrad for? Do you like to read or are you more of a movie person?” Sarah asked interestedly. “Sorry. The last three times I’ve seen you I’ve had to run out for work or I’ve been wrangling children so I have to take advantage now…”

“Oh.” Blaine looked surprised as Bob rolled his eyes.

“Well I have an English degree from UK—well, the University of Kentucky.” Blaine said. “I’m from a small town in Ohio and went to an all-boys school. I’m pretty boring… and I love books but really like movies too.”

“UK and English? But you’re about to be a lawyer?”

“Honestly I had no idea what to do.” Blaine admitted. “I was kind of, uhm, preoccupied the two years you were supposed to focus on that in high school, so I didn’t even declare until I was in the beginning of my fourth semester.”

“Did you get a scholarship?” She asked eagerly.

Bob looked at her, confused, but must have chose to let his pregnant wife go for it.

“I actually got four scholarships but not to UK. I got four soccer ones… I turned them down to be closer to Kurt, though.”

“Brady played soccer but he’s not doing it in college. He was a goal keeper most of the time but there were a few times he would be put in as a midfielder. He didn’t like that a lot, though. What were you?”

“Center forward so the one that always got knocked down.” Blaine laughed. “But I’m shorter so it saved me from getting knocked down more.”

“So tell me about Kurt. You’re older than him?”

“Well we’re the same age but his birthday fell after right after the age cut off for schools… but he was in a graduate program at Parson’s here in the city. It’s two years and Harvard is three so we still graduated the same year… We were really happy that CMJ opened an office here because the long distance was really hard.” Blaine bit his lip.

“The worst!” Sarah agreed. “It’s awful being only ‘a few hours away’ but being so busy that you can barely see each other… and when you do, you’re so tired from school and traveling to see each other… I couldn’t do that again.”

“Luckily we won’t have to.” Bob said.

“What does Kurt do?” Sarah asked Blaine.

“He actually works for Marc Jacobs… he had an internship in school before but he accepted a real job and he’s kind of… already the second highest person ranked under Marc.” Blaine bit his lip. “Which is honestly kind of crazy. We thought it would take years.”

“Wait, what?” Sarah asked.

“Who is that?” Bob asked.

Sarah turned to look at him and asked, “What rock do you live under?”

“The rock of CMJ and the Colloway household?” Bob asked.

“He’s a really popular fashion designer based out of here. Kurt works on a lot of the pieces that get put out.” Blaine said. “Marc really likes him so he’s moving up pretty quick.”

“Oooh, he’s going to be so rich one day.” Sarah said. “What does he wear to work?”

Bob gave her a weird look. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well I read that designers don’t really dress up for work. They save the creativity for creating designs.” Sarah shrugged.

“He actually usually just wears jeans or work pants and a button down. He dressed up at first but after the first six months he just… did exactly what you said. Unless there’s a big visit or client or something and then he’ll spend days picking out an outfit to wear… only to change it the morning of.” Blaine laughed. “He said there was not point in dressing up otherwise since he was high up enough and he’d already impressed Marc.”

“Have you met him?” Sarah asked.

“No.” Blaine shook his head. “Not yet but I think we’re supposed to go to his house or somewhere for dinner sometime soon so… that’ll be interesting, I guess?”

“Do you care about fashion at all?”

“Uhm… well, I like to look nice and I have good clothes for work and when I need to dress up… but I never wear anything like that outside of work. Okay, well, not too dressy at least. In the summer I like shorts and t-shirts which kills him… waiting four hours for him to get ready to gout kills me, so I guess it evens out.”

“Do you have friends here?” Sarah asked.

“Oh yeah!” Blaine nodded. “My two best friends actually have jobs here in New York City and I’m pretty close with someone at the office. We went to Harvard together… he’s actually getting married to his partner soon.”

“Matthew Caldwell?! Oh my God. I love him. Honestly when I found out he was gay, I really kind of wished that Charlie was gay and not already married because I just love him so much. He’s hilarious and he’s always got that dopey grin… and he’s built.”

“Matt is barely 23 and we’ve known him since he was 7, Sar.” Bob looked at her like she was crazy. “Did you really wish Charlie was gay?”

“No… Maybe as long as we still get to have Katie every other weekend.” Sarah paused. “However, I’m not entirely convinced about Brady still even if he’s got this girlfriend. I’m sorry. A mom knows when her baby is in love and he’s not in love with that girl… so I’m kind of hoping he’ll come out.”

“Brady is not gay.” Bob looked at her like he was crazy again. “It’s his first girlfriend. Do you know how many Jake went through before he and Liz just dated and let us all get on with the rest of our lives?”

“Mmmh, we’ll see.” She shrugged.

“I think I would know if he was gay.” Bob looked at Blaine. “Is he gay?”

“I’ve… only met him twice. Maybe three times?” Blaine said as if it were a question. “I don’t know? I don’t think I have very good gaydar. Kurt could probably tell you. Sorry.”

“No. It’s okay.” She sighed. “So… movies or books?”

“Books.”

“Very important question…” Sarah said slowly.

Bob rolled his eyes.

“Harry Potter… or Lord of the Rings?” Sarah asked.

“That’s not even a question. I read the Sorcerer’s Stone, Chamber of Secret, Prisoner of Azkaban, and Half Blood Prince within, like, eight hours… Order of the Phoenix took longer because when Sirius died, part of me died with him… Goblet of Fire was two days but only because I had the flu… and Deathly Hallows took a week because I got spoiled and couldn’t bear to read it because Dobby? And Fred?” Blaine said. “You lure us in with great characters and then you kill them all… then you say Dumbledore is gay and, excuse me, why isn’t she mentioning that in the book?” Blaine huffed.

“Okay…” Bob said slowly. “He and Charlie could be the same person.”

“I know!” Sarah gasped. “I was thinking that! What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Uhm I went to Canada, got really drunk, Wes’ head went through a hotel wall, and we smuggled a dog back into the country? I mean, that doesn’t compare to the DUI but you already know that.” Blaine nodded. “Oh and… actually go to law school. That was crazy.”

“Are you and Kurt going to get married and have kids?”

“Yeah, eventually.” Blaine nodded. “We’ve talked about it but everything is pretty hectic right now. We’ve been together since we were 17, though, and his dad is definitely pushing hard for it.”

“Oh, I bet his parents love you. You’re precious.” Sarah gasped.

“They like me enough.” Blaine laughed, somewhat embarrassed. “I’ve been in the family a long time so they’re honesty like my family now.”

“That’s how Bob’s family is with me.” Sarah smiled and then looked at Bob. “He’s too sweet. You better not corrupt him.”

“How would I corrupt him?”

“Look at Sam.” She said and turned to Blaine. “I know that Sam doesn’t look anything like Robbie but, looks aside, he is his father. They literally sleep in the same position, make the same facial expressions… he even does the ‘yep’ thing and the annoyed ‘I wish murder was legal’ expression.”

Blaine laughed as one of Bob’s phone began to rang.

Sarah looked at it, scowled, and handed it over.

“Hey, Tammy.” Bob sighed, leaving the room.

Blaine looked at Sarah. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “It’ll happen to you too, I’m sure. There’s always something coming up.”

“That must suck.” Blaine frowned.

“No. I mean, it does but you get used to it. There’s no point in getting upset over it because I know he can’t help it.” She smiled. “I hope you know you are welcome here any time. Robbie really cares about you and the kids all love you. So, I hope you won’t feel weird or anything but I guess I’m kind of adopting you too since we’re a joint package.”

Blaine smiled back. “He’s been really great. You both have, really.”

“Oh, he’s the best. He’s got a really good heart and he is amazing with the kids and with his family… and he’ll go out of his way to help anyone.” She made herself more comfortable on the couch, looking at him.

“Is it weird?”

“He’s the weird one, not you. Just accept it.” Sarah laughed a bit. “I don’t have a great family either so he’s had the protective bone for a very long time. He’s the sweetest but he’ll also probably go to jail to protect the ones he loves… and he does love you. I think he probably did a long time before that day when he told you. I promise that he is not the one to use that word lightly. I think he probably loved me for a year before he actually said it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He used to get really anxious and he can also be shy.” She nodded, voice quieter—probably because she was talking about Bob and he was in the next room. “It’s gotten a lot better since he started law and had to force himself to talk to people more and stuff, though. As much as he can hate being a lawyer sometimes, it’s really done a lot of good for him mentally.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad family.” Blaine looked at her.

“I’m sorry you did too… but you did very well in finding a Bob.” She scrunched up her nose. “That sounds so weird. Bob. But he says anything is better than Robert.”

“I think it’s odd to hear you and Jake call him Robbie.” Blaine admitted.

“Oh, the more you’re around the more you’ll hear it. I’m pretty sure only people at the office or acquaintances only call him Bob.” She said. “However, if you ever go to Maine with us, all you’ll hear is Robbie or Rob—and he hates to be called Rob more than Robert.”

“That’s good to know because if he annoys me, I can call him that.”

“I knew I was going to like you.” Sarah grinned. “I guess the whole point of this conversation is… welcome to the family.”

“Thanks.” Blaine said, a little embarrassed but also relieved that Bob’s wife seemed to really like him too.

“Marc Jacobs, though? For real?” She asked as Bob came back in.

“Wanna go to Dairy Queen?” Bob asked, not aware she had just asked a question.

“Oh my God. I love you!” Sarah hopped up before he even finished the sentence and headed to the door.

“2:00 like clockwork.” Bob laughed, coming up to Blaine. “She is so predictable when she’s pregnant.”

“She’s really nice.”

“Mmmh that’s what you think now. Give it a couple of months and see her yell at Sammy. Then you’ll see her true colors.” Bob joked, motioning for Blaine to go through the front door. “People think I’m scary but you don’t want to piss her off.”

“Nobody judge me but I’m going to get a medium. I would get large but the doctor said I needed to cool it… although I still go at least twice a day.” Sarah announced, climbing into the back seat.

“I can sit in the back!” Blaine said.

“Already down and I need at least five minutes before I can get back up or I might pee.” Sarah chirped.

��Too much information, Sarah.” Bob groaned. “Way too much information.”

“Well don’t knock me up again and you won’t have to hear it again after February.”

Bob gave Blaine a look, opening the driver’s door.

“I saw that, Robbie.”

#wbuct drabble #bob bob bob

10 notes · View notes

steamishot · 2 years

Text

july pay confirm

yesterday marked the end of all HR/payroll deadlines for the month and busiest season of the year. now i’ll have time during the workday to study again. there were so many last minute things/reports/calculations/corrections that i had to process for housestaff and faculty this past week. felecia had sent a step progression report to review basically 15 minutes before the deadline. she sent a report over, i sent over another with the corrections, and then she had to transfer the information to a different sheet but made mistakes along the way that i didn’t catch, and now there’s more clean up to do. i’ll have about 4 trainees who be slightly underpaid and a couple more that will be overpaid.

i finally was able to access my UC retirement information today, after getting locked out of my account for forgetting the password and no one answering my phone calls in the past months when i called in. i’m currently at 4.99 service credit, so i’m almost almost vested.

i downloaded an app called maxrewards recently, which consolidates all my credit card information into one space. i can easily track my expenditures across all cards, and it’s supposed to be helpful in determining which credit card to use for which purpose. matt recently downloaded thepointsguy app which consolidates the information for all his airline miles.

we used to consciously split our purchases (rent, food, household items) from when we moved in to about january of this year, but now we’ve been much more relaxed and basically have combined incomes and shared expenses. we maximize all our credit card bonuses, so, whoever has a higher cash back or if we’re trying to reach a spending amount to receive a bonus, will pay. so far this has been working fine. however, we do need to get more organized and keep better records of: where exactly our money is going to/budgeting and total balance of money/credit card points/airline miles, and investments. will be looking into YNAB and other budgeting apps and continue learning about personal finance.

this will be important to do to prepare for the income increase from matt’s job in the fall. to add to the list of purchases we’ve made, i was convinced by my brother recently to purchase a fancy coffee grinder, which was about $650. i realized that i’m constantly feeling guilty whenever i make big purchases, or any purchase that is outside of what’s “necessary” due to the fact that we haven’t been budgeting or keeping track of our expenditures. i have no clue whether we can actually “afford” it because we don’t have our financial goals explicitly laid out yet. that’ll be a personal project.

on a separate note, it’s been about a week since we started eating healthier. my previous definition of “healthy” used to be: low in fat, low in sodium, quality ingredients, and not processed. but i realize it wasn’t healthy in that i tended to be very picky about what i ate and not eat a lot of nutritious things in general. now, i’m trying to “eat the rainbow” and am incorporating much more veggies in our diets than ever before. i’m now looking at food more practically (what will my body benefit from eating this) vs. hedonically (how happy will my taste buds be) LOL. we still eat tastefully, but i’ve been adding a salad to supplement our dinners and have been making green/veggie smoothies every day. i’m still playing around with recipes; sometimes its not as tasty because i add a lot of greens but i force myself to drink it anyway and remind myself it’s good for me haha. however, i *feel* better/more energetic these days, and i notice matt’s skin looks better already. 30′s = aggressively fighting aging.

to also document my hair health: i started using a hair serum i picked up from TJ. i also got unrefined coconut oil to do masks and got some hair caps. my hair reacted well to the serum, and after one mask, my hair already felt much stronger. this was another “why so stupid” moment as i used to do hair masks when i was in my early 20s. i have been obsessed with touching my hair and seeing how much healthier its already looking.

0 notes

wonderlandleighleigh · 6 years

Text

So I couldn’t sleep Monday night. I open Facebook to poke around, and find that the brother of one of my closest friends, as well as a mutual close friend, have posted call-outs asking if anybody has seen or heard from said close friend.

I get on the horn, and no one has seen or heard from this boy since early Saturday morning. I post my own call out, and help dig up contact info on his psychiatrist and therapist, and somehow manage to go to sleep that night.

Tuesday rolls around and no news. At this point, everybody who knows him is on the lookout, the police have been notified, the whole nine yards.

Tuesday afternoon and my best friend texts me and says “Hey sis I need you to call me.”

And I know.

“Jason’s gone.”

Police found his body on the street. He had overdosed. On what, we don’t know yet. Since there was no sign of violence, the toxicology report is pretty low priority.

Did he use drugs? Yes, regularly. But always sourced from someone he knew; someone who cared for his well-being. The idea that he would wander to a shitty neighborhood at 4 or 5 am to score from a total stranger whose only concern is getting paid is ludicrous. But it’s looking more and more like this is what happened.

A small group of us, who have known him for a very long time, gather at his house to give each other support that night. We talk about who knows what, and who needs to know what, and what happens next. It’s all logistics and facts and what’s next.

Wednesday and Thursday are a flurry of people asking questions. Everybody from current joint chosen family to old high school and college friends want answers. And there are still some people who just don’t yet. We all get in touch with people who don’t know that should, and make sure everyone knows when and where the funeral is.

We keep tabs on our chosen family, who are all in total, utter shock, and absolutely destroyed.

I couldn’t make it through my workday on Thursday. I left early, and headed home. I baked for the family, and helped plan a dinner out for all the closeclose chosen family. We hug tightly, happy to see our out-of-towners, and still happy to see our locals. We ate and drank a little. We planned. We talked.

The funeral the next day was beautiful, and big (250-ish people) but so, so hard. The hearse pulled up and I watched someone who - in the thirteen years I’ve known him, I have seen cry once - burst into fucking tears.

I spoke. I wrote a short thing to say and I spoke, and so did four of our other friends and his brother.

When I finished and started to head for my seat, my friends who had already spoken waved me over to sit with them, and a strong arm was wrapped tightly around my shoulders as my heart pounded; as I stared at the casket while the rabbi spoke.

I knew so many people there. Every time I turned around there was someone else I knew, looking sad, ready for a hug and to either give or receive a kind word.

We headed to the burial after that, where the crowd gathered and cried; as we recited the mourners kaddish we held each other. As family members and then friends took up shovels and each one shoveled a little dirt into the grave. As his brother tossed down the beloved t-shirt that held so much significance for all of us as an extended, chosen family.

Hi parents are in shock and devastated. His brother is in shambles. We’re all messes. We got into the car to leave the burial for the family’s house, and I turned to my friend and I said “This is bullshit.”

He could only agree.

We stayed at the shiva house for hours. At one point I took a walk. It’s my old hometown, so I know my way around. I found a beloved spot from my childhood...a little wooded area with a creek and a bridge; quiet and serene. I stood on the bridge and played some of our favorite silly songs and cried.

When it was time to go, we grabbed dinner, the lot of us, before the out-of-towners left.

Yesterday was quiet, and last night was drunken and tearful.

Today was quieter still, as everyone starts to transition back to real life. To a new normal without Jason.

They put my friend in the ground.

They put my friend in the ground, and I had to leave him there.

And every time I have buried someone, that’s what hurts the most, and I don’t know why. I could not begin to tell you why.

Supposedly, the idea of someone being buried and then eventually becoming part of nature again is beautiful. It’s peaceful and full circle.

But I hate it. I hate leaving them there.

I’ve been trying to wrap my head around the last week, and it’s definitely touch and go.

So far, the only song that doesn’t make me cry is Garth Brooks’ “Friends in Low Places” because it’s so far removed from everything that’s happened over the last seven days.

It’s going to take me a long time to process this.

This person was so important to me; he taught me what it means to be family to someone; he taught me how important community is. He gave me so much strength, and brought so much levity and joy and thoughtfulness to my life, and lives of so many other people.

To say he’ll be missed is oversimplified. He’s left a hole in the world that we’ll be hard-pressed to fill.

A new normal will be established because it has to be; the world will keep spinning, and life will move on with only his memory. And as much as I loathe that, as livid as I am about how unfair that is, it’s inevitable and necessary.

Rest in peace, little brother. You burned quick but you burned so fucking bright.

Scoodelidoop.

#TW: drug use #TW: overdose #TW: death #IRL #I'd like a refund #this is still dildos

4 notes · View notes

simplyshelbs16xoxo · 7 years

Text

‘Better This Way’ Chapter 6: Falling In Love...Again

Molly woke to the smell of bacon and eggs. As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was still at 221B, in Sherlock’s bed no less. Mrs. Hudson must be cooking in the kitchen, she thought as she pulled on Sherlock’s blue dressing gown. Not Mrs. Hudson, but Sherlock, was setting the now cleared off kitchen table with breakfast for two.

“Ah, Molly, you’re awake,” he smiled. When and how, exactly, did I fall asleep, she wondered. It took a moment for her to realize that she had spoken out loud when Sherlock began to answer her. “It was around six in the evening. I believe it was because of two factors: one, I was holding you for quite some time and two, you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in at least three months. Sorry about that last one; that was entirely my fault.”

“Oh,” was all she said as the events from yesterday flooded through her mind. Waking up to Sherlock cooking breakfast had made it feel as if the breakup never even happened, if only for a fleeting moment. He approached her slowly, like he was afraid of scaring her away if he made any sudden movements. Molly realized he was practically tip-toeing around her, not wanting to give her affection if it was unwanted by her. “Sherlock, you don’t have to be so scared. You can kiss me; I won’t bite.” She paused and then added, “Well, sometimes I do,” with a giggle, amused by her own joke. This made him relax around her as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, Molly Hooper,” he breathed into her ear.

“For what?” she asked.

“For giving me another chance,” he replied. Sherlock knew how fragile their relationship was right now, but yet, it was also the strongest it had ever been. How strange to think that healing together after a rough patch could strengthen them. He was grateful she took him back, for he was sure he would kiss the ground she walked on if she asked.

The entire day was spent the way Molly wanted to, at Sherlock’s insistence. They had stayed in, occasionally paying attention to the crap telly that was put on, but mostly he listened to Molly tell him about how her life was during the last three months; boring workdays, too many double shifts and not enough variety. It was no wonder she hardly ever slept. When she told him that she finally managed to sleep well after he drew that bath for her, he surged with happiness that he had made her life a bit easier.

Sherlock told her of the operation to round up what was left of Moriarty’s criminal associates and the night he was caught off guard, resulting in the stab wound in his side that was now a scar.

“I visited you when John told me,” Molly admitted. “You weren’t awake, obviously, but I was so afraid for you. I sang our song to you; you know, the Ed Sheeran one you sang with me. You squeezed my hand.”

“I thought I was dreaming,” Sherlock told her. “I didn’t know you were actually there at the time. Otherwise, I would’ve tried harder to wake up.” Molly smiled at this. “If it hadn’t been for you leaving that shoebox behind, I’m not sure I would have gotten my head out of my arse. The letter you wrote me had me realize how badly I had hurt you. Did you really think I didn’t love you anymore?”

“For a while I did tell myself that, but the more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make any sense to me,” she explained.

“You know I could never stop loving you, right?” Sherlock asked, his voice low. The weight of his words was welcomed in her heart. With her lips slightly parted, he leaned in to capture them with his own. The snogging didn’t stop when he pulled away, as he had begun covering her face with affection; her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose and jawline, leading down to her neck. All the while, he had one hand in her hair and another placed at the small of her back. His lips traced over the sensitive spot behind her ear, and he nibbled playfully at it just the way she loved. “I will always love you, honeybee.”

“I’ll always love you too, my bumblebee,” Molly spoke softly. She kissed his lips, nuzzling her nose against his all the while.

“Status report,” Mycroft Holmes demanded when Sherlock entered his office.

“Thanks to Mary, we only have one more associate to find and capture,” Sherlock spoke proudly.

“And Molly?” the elder Holmes asked.

“Safe…her and Toby are staying with me until all is clear,” he informed him.

“The two of you are back together?” Mycroft inquired.

“You needn’t ask me that; I’m sure you already worked that bit out yourself,” Sherlock replied.

“Good. If you ever pull that again, brother mine, I’m afraid I’ll have to interfere,” Mycroft told him.

“Then you have nothing to worry about. There’s absolutely no chance that it will ever happen again. Nothing could ever convince me to pull a stunt like that a second time,” Sherlock explained. “It was the most foolish and idiotic thing I had ever done.”

“Second idiotic thing, Sherlock,” he pointed out. “I do believe your drug habit takes the number one spot on that list.”

“Another item of that list you do not have to worry about, as I did go back to rehab months ago and no longer have a desire to use,” he countered.

Sherlock came home to find it eerily quiet in his flat. Not even Toby had greeted him like usual. Molly had been there an entire week, under his watchful eye for protection, but something felt off. His instincts kicked in, his feet immediately taking him to his bedroom. His throat felt tight and his heart pounded in his chest, silently praying that Molly was safe. Maybe she had gone out and Toby was asleep?

A breath of relief escaped his lips as he found her fast asleep in his bed. Their bed. Toby was curled up against her stomach as she lay on her side. Molly was also curled up much like her beloved cat. He quietly approached her and kissed her forehead, noticing a difference in body temperature. She was fevered. He left the room and returned with a couple of aspirin and a glass of water that he set on her bedside table.

Molly woke hours later and took the aspirin that Sherlock had left for her. She faintly heard the sound of his violin when she checked the time on her phone. It was nearing three in the morning. Shivering, Molly wrapped Sherlock’s dressing gown around her tightly and padded her way into the sitting room. She found him facing the window as he played a most heartbreaking melody.

“Composing?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Revising a composition, yes,” he elaborated. “What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.”

“I came out to find you,” Molly told him. “What’s it called? Your composition? It sounds heart-wrenching.”

“That is because it is about the most painful time of my life,” Sherlock said. “It’s called ‘Losing the Love of my Life’ and in parentheses, ‘I’m a git.’”

“Really?” she laughed in disbelief.

“Yes, well, I’ll come up with a shorter title eventually. Brevity is the soul of wit and all,” Sherlock joked with a flourish of his hand. A giggle escaped her lips at his remark. “Molly, you really should get some more rest.”

“It’s hard for me to sleep without you,” she told him. “Stay with me?”

“Of course, darling,” he replied.

As they lay in bed, with Molly wrapped up in his arms, Sherlock hummed to her softly.

“Molly?”

“Hmm?”

“What can I do?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she questioned in return.

“What can I do to make you feel better? How do I fix your heart?” Sherlock wondered.

“Oh, Sherlock, you’re already doing everything you can,” Molly told him. “I’m healing; we both are.” She yawned and cuddled in closer when another chill shot through her.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered to her. Much to Sherlock’s surprise, he had fallen asleep not long after she did. They both dreamt of one another that night, filled with past memories and future plans.

fanfiction.net | ao3

#Sherlolly #Mollock #Better This Way #my fanfiction #Sherlock Holmes x Molly Hooper

15 notes · View notes

justinjohn · 8 years

Text

The Past Six Months. Part II. 2.22.17. (scroll down for part I).

After six months of some of the darkest lows of my life, I received a phone call while I ‘did work’ (aka, facebooking and looking at Instagram memes) at Starbucks. It was for an interview in New York. I flew out the next day, and I found out later that week I got the job. It was actually really suspenseful because I unexpectedly had to meet with the people twice in one day since they were flying back to Europe that night, and it was really dramatic and intense and I wanted to just die the whole time but just dealt with it and had a lot of wine after. Also, I left my notebook and some important documents on the restaurant table when I left, and the hostess called my cell phone from the number on my resume to come back and retrieve them.

Anyway.

Once I got the job, I called my old landlady, Celeste, on a lark to see if she had any units available in any of her buildings. She’s kind of senile now and says “I love you” when we hang up on occasion, but she’s still wonderful. She hadn’t rented my apartment yet- it was still available- and she said I could have it back.. for $50 less a month in rent. It had been listed for over a record 70-days (ostensibly because other people want about an apartment with a kitchen), but I’m fine with a microwave and a frozen dinner, so it always worked for me. I had seen three other apartments, by the way, one of which was up 5 flights of stairs and so close to the Manhattan bridge you could practically smell the drifting car exhaust, and it featured a pile of mouse droppings in the corner near the front door where the broker had swept it up but not emptied it. Also the shower looked like an HVAC. After that experience, I decided to take Celeste up on her offer. (which reminds me I need to pre-emptively call an exterminator to plug any holes through which any cockroaches could squeeze through the wall because I’m not dealing with that shit this time around.)

And then as luck would have it, a few days later, a nice girl reached out from Equinox gym. They were offering initiation-free memberships, and she wanted to see if I wanted to rejoin. Free $500 initiation fee? “Yes, Shanika, sign me up.”

It was as if the life I’d relinquished I suddenly could have back again. A new lease. Perhaps the universe wasn't so cruel. I felt this small but certain sense of reassurance that things would be okay.

I glommed onto these moments of excitement. I wanted a second chance, an opportunity to fix what I’d so carelessly cast aside. It was a thrilling moment to finally once again look the stability of a paycheck, insurance, and a sense of self-worth in the eyes and re-join the formal workforce, an American cell membrane that turns out is incredibly exclusionary and difficult to penetrate once you’ve left. I haven’t seen a dentist in over a year. I’d spent $15,000 of my savings since September of 2016, which makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. And scariest of all, I had forgotten what it was like to wear a hard-soled pair of shoes. I was lucky to change my clothes at home on a regular basis.

So, I signed. And signed again. It felt so great feeling like an adult again: a new job, a new apartment. Things were looking up.

And then yesterday, as I looked at the email to re-sign on my gym membership, the panic attack set in.

As I peered into the computer monitor and thought about everything for which I was volunteering myself, it all suddenly came rushing back: “Is this what you want, Justin? To move back to that place you hated, where you were so desperately unhappy? Is this what you want? A job in fashion, which wrung you dry, chained to a desk with such limited self-worth? Moving back into the same tiny apartment? A gerbil on a wheel of life..all for some money? Do you give up that easily?”

I tried to quell the critical thoughts but they skidded and collided around my head like bumper cars.

I looked at the calendar on my desktop and followed the boxes. February only has 28 days. I need to move back by March 1. That’s in less than a week. The realizations continued to mount and my hands started to shake. How was I going to do this? I am in Philadelphia. My things are in Chicago. How am I even going to get them to New York in time? It all sounded so good in my head but now that this was happening, what in God’s name was I thinking?

I began to hyperventilate. I had told myself I would do things differently this time, make sure I didn’t get caught in the same traps into which I’d so unwittingly fell last time, but none of that mattered at that moment. Reality overtook me like a tsunami, like a force that just completely subdued means brought life to a standstill. My heart pounded within my chest, and impulsively, I called my boyfriend in panic in the middle of the workday, for some sort of placation that I was doing the right thing.

He was resigned. By now, he was so calloused to my self-centered inner-wirings he couldn’t pretend to offer sympathy. He watched me leave a city I “loved” but hated, only to be miserable somewhere else, to then now return to the same city in hopes to start over again with my tail in between my legs, without any sense of consideration for him or ‘us’ or the relationship or taking a chance to move to him in Austin. And in turn, I felt sour on the inside: I loved him but I just kept hurting him, over and over- in my mind out of necessity- but ultimately to pacify my own need to gain solid footing. My heart was scattered between cities, my focus blurred for what I wanted, and now in this frantic moment, I was falling apart, and I had the audacity to ask for his empathy. It was a wretched thing to do, but I had no other option: he understood me and always knew what to say, when he wanted. But not now.

Over the course of the past few weeks, I could tell I was prodding him closer and closer to the ‘demise’ for our oftentimes frustrating and stagnat long-distance relationship, due to these newly-developing prospects that would keep us further apart. I had canceled the trip I was going to make earlier this week to see him in light of interviewing obligations, and now, not only was I forcing him to look into a bleak and unclear future for our relationship, but I called to selfishly ask for his support on moving back to a city without him. He finally responded,

"Maybe it’s time.”

The words socked me straight in my stomach and I just felt like my heart had been knocked clear out of my body with a baseball bat.

The distance, the lack of progress, the inability to make ‘this’ work had all come to a head. With this new job, I wouldn’t be able to see him for weeks, if not months. I was so overwhelmed, beyond capacity to understand my own quantum life changes, to place him into the picture, and in the process, I had reduced him to simply a nightly phone call, and not even an enjoyable one at that. “What are you doing tonight?” “Did you cook?” “What are you watching?” The banal questions had replaced the rich honest core of what we used to be. And maybe he was right, maybe it was time.

“When you decide to move to Austin, or one day I decide to move to New York, we can make this work, but until then, I think we need a break.” He said.

I couldn’t help but agree, but the words knifed my insides, which already felt carved out and empty like a Halloween pumpkin.

This was my first love (at 29, no less). Three-plus years of time and dedication. Someone whose smile lit up my heart and whose humor and dumb joy made me a happier and better person. Someone whom I met in person from Tinder (yes it’s possible), who stole my heart from miles away and managed to show me what it is to let someone in. And like everything, I’d killed it. Squeezed the life out of it like a poisonous weed due to indecisiveness, knee-jerk impulsivity, fear, and inability to commit.

We hung up. I closed the door of the balcony and went inside of my brother’s quiet apartment with the gilded wooden ceilings and the drop crystal chandelier, and after I looked around for a moment in the silence, I wept. I cried so hard, my empty insides quaked. I just let all of the pain and turmoil that had been building inside of me for the past year of hell gush out of my aching, broken body, like torrential rain from a gutter. I surrendered. I just gave up. Life had won. I had failed. In so many ways.

I just wanted good things.

I just wanted to make life right. I wanted happiness. To rebel against the system. I made a run for it and I was stopped and compromised right at the onset. I never had a chance. I tried to take on something bigger and I/it was just completely rendered futile.

I held the dog for a minute and he licked me as tears streamed down my face. I texted my sister and one of my best friends here in Philly: “I need you please.”

My friend Zach came over and hugged me for an extended period of time and got me paper towels (from somewhere in the house because when he brought them back I was too busy crying to ask him where he found those), into which I cried and stuffed my face in shame, to which he said, “you’re too pretty to be single, you’ll be snatched up in no time.” (Which didn’t help at the time because I was like, my whole life is a fucking disaster and that is what you have to say?) But now in hindsight was sweet and makes me feel better.

I said something dramatic in the moment about ‘saving me from myself’, which I still mean but less in a way that I’m the actual grim reaper of happiness. And then we went shopping for shoes for a short vacation from Breakdown City. I was a little vacant the whole time, as emotional trauma sort of mirrors physical trauma in the sense that you just try to evaluate the magnitude of the injury just incurred. I was sort of reeling and trying to get through shopping like a socially-functional person and not cry in public or just unresponsively stare at people when they would ask me questions.

And then we had a Manhattan at 5pm, watched the Bachelor with friends (which I haven't seen all season- go Vanessa), and as I got home and laid my head on the pillow last night, it just felt like I didn’t know how I’d gotten there. It all seemed surreal.

And as I sit here now, a day later, bereft of armor, nothing to offer but my meager and humble words in light of my disposition, I have a few thoughts.

Life is complicated. It’s hard. It’s full of stumbling blocks and it can be rife with heartache and pain. At times it glimmers with moments of happiness, and it’s for those moments we ought to live because that’s all we really have. No one promises us happiness. It turns out we have to go out and get it ourselves. And it just depends how hard you want to work.

Life isn’t a goal. Sure, you can plot goals along the journey, but life itself isn't a goal. You don’t ‘check’ life, the box. I mean, I guess you do, but that’s when you die. And that sucks then because it’s over then and you can’t celebrate by getting wasted off of champaign or whatever. But more importantly, it reframes the way that we have to think about it, kind of like Christopher Columbus realizing the earth isn’t flat.

Life is not a game to be won. Not a puzzle to be solved. It’s certainly not an upward-bound slope on a graph with the axes: x-income and y-happiness. And social convention actually doesn’t equal happiness.

You don’t get some kind of award if you somehow figure out how to become insta-famous, or if you come up with a great business venture that enables you to become a millionaire. You’re actually just the same person who has a lot of Instagram followers, the same person who just has a lot more money than probably most of us do in the bank. Congratulations, you can still be an asshole. Look at Mark Zuckerberg.

It’s one thing I’ve learned: people are people and we have to look past context to really see who they are. Just as fame, income, beauty, career success, educational degrees, etc., don’t indicate happiness, I think the only way to begin to understand what we need in this world is to introspectively to look at ourselves in spite of those things. In a way, we’re all just scrambling to appreciate what we have and figure out how to attain what we do not.

For me, I realized I don’t want ‘career’ to be everything. I want to write. I want to do things for the environment. Be in New York and live the city. Salvage my relationship if that’s what is meant to be. But I also realize there are thing I need to do for a baseline of mental sanity. Which don’t include living in my parents’ house in Chicago and jeopardizing everything I know. --

Life is really quite aimless. It’s kind of like that game we used to play as a kid in the car with all the metal balls that slide around all over the place on the board with the little round-shaped craters, and you just try to get all aligned in respective divots for at least a moment before you hit a bump and they all scatter again. I think the general idea is to try to keep it together but at most points in time, shit is just actually completely out of control so you just try to manage what you can for as long as possible.

The only way I think I can describe life in my eyes at this point, is as if to say we are all born with a watering can filled with the same amount of water, and we are led into garden filled with all these different ‘aspirational’ plants. [I envision various potted seedlings with signs that say things like ‘money’, ‘family’, ‘art’, ‘family’, ‘career’, ‘love’, ‘adventure’, etc.,] And you just have to try and decide, with no information other than your own innate pragmatism, what you think you should do. (Isn't that a terrifying assignment? I think so, too.)

Some people pour all of their water into the ‘career’ bucket. Surely, they can count on whatever arises as a likely result of that: stability and perhaps a decent home, even a nice chunk of change for retirement, but, sometimes that doesn’t happen. And even if it does, many of these people struggle with relationships or feel their success came at a detriment of family time, the arts or recreational travel. [Some of those people also water the ‘alcohol / party’ plant which leads to getting fired and unemployment, etc, but there are many ways to play out. (It gets complicated, but you get my drift.)]

And then there are those who watered the ‘love’ bucket. They may have a wonderful spouse, but perhaps a modest home. They may feel the stability of marriage and have lots of kids and embrace it, but always long for what it would have been like if they really pursued a stronger work identity. In some ways, I believe the ‘career’ guy and the ‘love’ guy look at each other equally enviously, with ‘grass is always greener’ eyes. But it’s just the choices we make.

I think as humans we are programmed to look for concrete measures of success: big house. fashionable clothes. nice car. attractive spouse. wedding. children. And we live our lives to the things that will help us get there. But what I’ve realized is that those things don’t actually equal happiness. They’re social constructs. They’re checking off boxes, or more simply, again, life choices. Happiness is inside.

So it’s official. As of next week, I am moving back to New York City, to start a new job, and try to figure out what the actual fuck is happening with my relationship, to rediscover the place for which I’d lost my love after so long. And I have one goal, and one goal, only: happiness.

Maybe New York is the same. Maybe my apartment is the same. The job description. But I have changed. I may be a little war-torn and battered, but I am stronger and smarter. I go in with an understanding of moderation, limits, self-awareness, and like a phoenix rising, Justinthecity is coming back home.

Like! Share! Tell Your friends! Share www.justinthecity.com Put me on your Google reader so you can stay fresh and up-to-date! Follow me on Instagram! Justinthecity_ Facebook? https://www.facebook.com/Justinthecity/ Or email me: [email protected]

2 notes · View notes

be21zh · 6 years

Text

bootable lunar dragon boat holiday

dreamed of starvation. then in my Hometown joined workers cross ten miles of new industry area to find canteen to lunch. my once Hometown pal, Zhu Zhongwang, fetched our ready food and cooked for us to lunch. he is a worker there while I just a visitor. it was likely several decade ago soon after open policy in PRC. it's a golden morning. exercising people with speaker makes outside hot. last night one of my favorite episodes, "roseane", banned by USA media enterprises and I hated it. It's a good product and my night TV time left with large empty to fill. I chose crucifier as recently it appears on social media but the mob theme disgusting me, esp futural surreal ability drove me away. I need truth of life, esp American life alike. even tasteless but online radio still let me forget late night. yesterday was lunar dragon boat holiday. I had my only meal of noodle. I tipped the small restaurant owner ten more bucks for appreciation working in holiday. on dusk jog I offered an homeless mid-aged man with my only 1 CNY. I had quite productive talk with my son, woz, about arrangement of his gears, esp new Asus flip chromebook for video interview between us. he reluctant to use well it but he is adopting the wonderful ultrabook. his nexus 6 breaking, screen panel leaving mainboard, so I bought new back shell from taobao.com to tighten it. I really itching to see its functional. last Saturday is our monthly cinema day. I penniless to fetch my son from his piano class to cinema at No.1st Supermarket of Qiqihar. the aunt of his mom visiting and accompanied the grandma to escort my son's lesson. QRRS, my once workplace, distributed a free food coupon so I shifted it to the grandma and its seemingly graciously. we watched "Jurassic park 2" and it was almost a blockbuster. but I always inspired by spirit, not animal including wild and astonishing huge one. after movie dinner was hotpot. I penniless and woz forgot to bring his wallet on which I counted. I blamed him for unprepared. PRC surveillance likely hated my coaching power in sms with my nephew and my younger brother, so they hacked my phone to ruin my texting: it kept refreshing screen in twelve seconds and let input method constantly whitewashed my wording, let composing failing and failing. in the urgent Saturday afternoon, the refreshing screen let my transferring money a nightmare operation to execute. the hacked android just unworkable. later I shifted it to woz for his smaller finger to click but he even can't operate to evade the failing refreshing screen. so I open my chromebook to transfer money into debit card from his remnants in alipay yuebao. I did 3rd times to resolve our problem. first transferring can't on account daily but next day, second one didn't prepare enough for ATM operative fee, 4 CNY, so 100 CNY can't be withdrawn from total 103 CNY. third time I had more than 105 CNY on account and ATM withdraw successfully. my son and I finally rejoiced and we ordered additional dish of mutton. our life just so tightened. the June saw lots of small rains. last night I first time replace winter quilt with lighter one, and its coziness. now It's workday morning. God dad, grant us anxious free salary day. prepare us meaningful financial support for woz summer vacation when I will invite him linger some weeks in my dorm. bring me sooner my Royal China, my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko. bring me workload in my fifties'.

riveryog 周二, 06/19/2018 - 09:57

#dabbog.com民主中国制 - 民主中国至，中国指明主－ dabbog.com #bootable lunar dragon boat holiday

0 notes

ethereal-aeitherea · 7 years

Text

Today in class someone made a wonderful presentation on a story he had written. I wasn’t sure it was autobiographical until the end, when he showed photos of the people he had included in his story. His story related to his past of drug use and drug selling. He took the same drugs he was selling and began lacing what he was selling with tylenol, and his brother got beat up by a customer for something he didn’t do. He suffered for what he didn’t do.

Then randomly a snapchat story features a girl who ripped her own eyes out due to hallucination/thoughts she had while high on meth. Going from an honors student to dropping out of school and alcohol/drug addiction to clawing out her own eyes....

And yesterday evening I was watching one of my go-to daily vloggers talk about his (brief) past of going clubbing with people who would go to 2-4 clubs in one night, go to a day party, then go out to dinner and start all over again at night, only going home to freshen up..... How he described that the only way they had that much energy was because they were doing drugs...

Then today on the bus ride home, I saw one of my friends biking who I know has taken drugs in the past but has since quelled it down substantially...... His skin looks so much clearer.

I’m like why is this suddenly happening? I look at the space on my desk where my large coffee was, but I put it in the fridge. Am I drinking too much coffee or something? Did I indulge in too much sugar recently?

I’ve been stressed out with the amount of work I have to do and feel a strange sort of numbness, like I need to get some sleep but stay awake in zombie mode, but all-day from the time I wake up. It doesn’t set in later. Some factors that might be contributing to this feeling is that daylight savings time happened this past sunday as well as my abnormal sleep hours each night. I slept 14 hours last night for example, but 5 the previous night. But yesterday I got a huge boba, one of the sweetest ones (that actually doesnt have any caffeine), and drank basically the entire thing; I had sips of this peach fizzy drink I bought ((for the cute bottle packaging) but its literally corn syrup water), and idk... I’ve been throwing chewing gum into my backpack before going to class? Not much added sugar there but still? My mom once said I have sugar addiction. Not sure if that’s what I’m getting at here.

These strange occurrences, I wonder if its trying to tell me something. OR is it not a premonition from a higher power? Like the girl thinking she heard a sign from god that she was chosen as the person who was to make a sacrifice, and that sacrifice she felt was removal of her eyes..... I saw my friend biking past whose skin looks brighter due to quitting. The story given by a classmate was a story from the past. He says they’re good now. Same with the daily vlogger, he heard himself say “you need some sleep, you can’t do this, you can’t do this, you need to go get some sleep,” a voice he heard in his head while completely sober, which is something I completely recognize. I’ve heard that kind of clear voice before....... I remember hearing it once after drugs. I’ve also heard it at other times in my life, when I really truly needed to leave or do something, or if something was bad for me.... Is this another one of those times? The answer is not clear, I’m being analytical.

I thought I had so many things due tomorrow but turns out two of those things are due next week completely. I actually have nothing “due” tomorrow in fact..... I have things due in two days. I previously described it as a sense of numbness but perhaps it is an induced sense of calmness because I know I will get everything done that needs to be done. I know deep down that it will all come together in the end, and I don’t have to suffer on no sleep to do it. I can get the sleep that my body needs while still getting my work turned in. I can finish everything without stress, without self-hatred, and without anxiety or freaking out.

Last quarter when I asked myself what I should do, the answer that arose was “go shopping.” I felt so strange shopping the racks and rows of Forever 21 when I had my final project in one of my classes due the following morning. I actually slept through the final class and turned my work in online that late afternoon. Even turning that in went against that inner voice. I turned it in online “just in case” (rational brain / anxious mind) and emailed my professor asking if I could turn the project in late. He responded after the weekend had passed saying, yes, I could. So I worked on it a bit further and turned it in a second time. I passed my class. I could have passed if I didn’t rework it either of those times. All I needed to do was pass. Sure, I didn’t get an A+ in the class, but that’s not my goal.

My goal is to graduate and learn as much as I can about whatever I’m interested in. Doing tedious work while losing out on sleep (sacrificing health) is not going to help me fulfill that goal. Perhaps that is the sense of calm that I feel. Even typing this out trying to find out if there’s some ulterior thing to figure out is a result of my past tendencies to overanalyze things and overthink. But I could have left this to the side and gone to sleep. Who knows. My friend plans on doing an all-nighter in the lab tonight. I forgot that tomorrow is when our project is supposed to be due, but our 3-hour class has also been turned into a workday. So I thought I needed to have a presentation written out, scripted, and recorded, as well as the final working project to go along with it, but I don’t even have to make any progress if I didn’t want to. It’s a very strange feeling. It’s the final week before final exams week, and one of my classes finishes this week. Yet I’m not freaking out.... not so much. Idk, it’s weird. I see my fellow classmates and they ask how I’m doing. I say “I don’t know.” They nod their head in concurrence.

0 notes

stoneheartedblog-blog · 7 years

Text

Yesterday felt like the real first day of the year--- a full workday and an evening of darts. I spent the whole day in my office getting some much-neglected project work in motion. It was good to feel productive. Toss on some tunes and away I go. Not really any major crisis to deal with.

Radio-silence on the Mom front.. Nothing from my brother or sister either. That’s fine by me.

When I got home, she was in good cheer. She’d had a very productive afternoon craft-wise after a slow start in the morning. The house smelled largely of roast chicken (with notes of bacon and coconut). By a coincidence of bus schedules, I was home a little early and she asked me to finish the meal.

We ate, chatted and watched a little BBT before we had to head out to darts.

She had declared it a no-bra day and her body was enticing and inviting to me. I was handsy and it was tempting to say screw-it to darts.

We headed out and were chatting about money and how to make the car last. It’s a recurring conversation for us-- not the car per se, but looking forward a few months/years out when we’re clear of our consumer debt. It’s on both our minds a lot. We live a modest lifestyle and sometimes it feels like we’re just spinning our wheels. We’re not, but it’s easy to fall into that trap.

Of course, the car started acting up and we had to stop and drop in some oil. #ironic

We both enjoy playing darts and socializing with other adults. It made for a good evening. We Pokemon’d our way home. This evening’s sortie to hunt the critters will be fun.

Back home, I in the dip and set the timer for a half-hour. I pulled her to her feet and lead her to the bedroom for some action. I’d been thinking of this all day and felt myself stiffen off and on and precarious times. I figured we’d have time for some physical action.

It felt good to take the initiative and I was hard. Her body responded quickly as I undressed her. I entered her strong and firm, but my erection faltered a bit. I didn’t panic and stroked myself hard again. I started to get frustrated a bit because I desperately wanted to come inside her. That didn’t help things. She sensed my need and helped bring me along. We both came, but it wasn’t the ear-ringing blast that some of our sessions have been as late. Mine was low-volume but hypersensitive-- very different than usual-- shivers and quakes, but not explosive. I enjoyed it and felt satisfied with the release. I just wouldn’t call myself “spent”. I’m pretty sure that’s where she landed.

The timer went off and we cleaned up and enjoyed out dip to BBT to close out the evening. She stayed up a bit crafting. Her plan was to bring her sleep-time back one hour at a time to get back in sync with me-- a tough job for a natural nightowl.

A couple notes on sexy-times:

Timers are bad, very bad.

We might have broken the bed-- need a slat-style instead of boxspring.

I think the coconut oil has spoiled me on the lube.

I fell into a goal-oriented trap and drug her along with me. I made it about my orgasm and that clearly didn’t work.

I need to communicate what my needs are. I need to identify them to myself. I was clearly looking for a physical release, but went for a more passionate approach.

Couch canoodling and relaxing into the physical feelings would have been better.

Sex is different every time. We have sex for different reasons in different situations and they don’t always match. Sometimes it’s mind-blowing and sometimes it’s not. That’s okay. It’s something I’ll raise for us to talk about this evening.

That’s probably a whole lot over analysis about something that was still one hell of a lot of fun. I just want our sex-life and intimacy to improve and be awesome.

#Chrono

0 notes

chinad · 7 years

Text

wake up 2 new domains, zuo.center & woga.me

Apr 10, 2017

dreamt of the family of my cousin, ie. husband of my mother's niece. I once liked his 2nd daughter who was tall and slender. but long time works in farm worn out her hands which drove me away from her in my senior middle school summer vacation and never return. I saw her new family in dream. her dad, a communist cadre in his village, a selfish impetus driver for many children even complied others to abide one child policy, invented or bought to connect his family with his offspring's family, and his properties with wire. the wire likely controlled digitally. I saw just dial "home to farm" and the 2 place linked and can communicate online. I still felt warm with the girl and her sisters and her child. then dreamt I made experiment, in which I put pencil core into a tiny tube and heated to melt it. when I saw it changed into liquid, just when I ready to fill in something with it, the power down. at the mean time I urgent to urine. I pee indoor before others returning to caught me in sight. almost peed and with caution of fire, I woke up. last week my family acquired another 2 precious domains, zuo.center and woga.me. zuo.center is my first and likely last unconventional TLD. most of newly added TLDs are expensive, but .center renewal is $20. the same amount with .me, which I promoted most to my son woz, hoping he regards woga.me for his video game hobby as himself invented. I told my son I contented with 21 domains before my business getting bigger, and I didn't regret risks I taken in the purchase even more or less I felt my greediness in the making of namespace, claim of meaning and naming. I hope in a market, its normal to profit from intelligent property. after 3 days intensive works, I prepared publication sites for the 2 domains, inc google sites, zoho sites, blogger blogs, tumblrs, etc. I show my son webpage editing and publishment skill, hoping he enjoy freedom of cyberspace as I did. yesterday I ate delicacies in gathering woz dining out. he ordered his favorite sausage in Taiwanese franchise restaurant, Formosa pies. I also fed him mango I sliced large portions by fork and fruit knife. sometimes I wonder if my main treat is just eating. but God's know I barely fed each normal day. God, dad, bring me sooner my Royal China. bring me my Crowned Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for better life and warmth of homage. grant us a spacier salary this month for our planned expenditure. thx, dad, for coming canteen breakfast.

Apr 9, 2017

dreamt first shared dorm with an once QRRS colleague who is a photographer. he is a gay in dream and spying me. anything of him will convey gay sensation when I touch them. then dream in a TV cuisine competition. I was a candidate and my dish too slippery to stand vegetables in decorative arrangement. I was in hurry and failed many times. then once my boss, QRRS cable TV chief editorial who died in mid age, pointed out the cause emotionlessly. when I almost gave up my works, I woke up and in anxious of visiting my son weekend on time. last week is a strange week testifying relation of my son woz and me, his dad. on Monday which also in lunar Mourning holiday we booked cinema as usual together. that day had been shifted a day for all PRC people gathering 3 days holiday for escape and adjust a weekend for workday. the disgusting convenience chasing hobby humiliates meaning of week from the bible, unlike US holidays, shown worldly profane of Communism Chinese. when I went over in time to fetch my son to cinema, he was absent while his mom tutored some students there as usual. I waited half hour till time didn't permit waiting. I buzzed the grandma who is really an old fox, stubborn and canning, evasive when I ordered her sent my son to cinema directly. my son already told me he will be totally free when we booked tickets together. so my son forgot his timetable or his sinful mom or grandma tentatively assigned my son's occupation with his pointless art class away from our scheduled pastime. when I arrived cinema and buzzed the grandma again, she still trying selling my son to postpone the movie. my son wanted to talk to me, but my rages out of control and I yelled him to come over at once. when they arrived, I at once beat my son while the grandma repeated that I was insane. I beat my son before the movie and during movie, we didn't exchange anything while our back seat trying closer to us to tease us, likely official surveillance. on way to lunch out, I beat my son again for disappointed and humilitation, for his unable to administrate his life on his own. I scorned and beat him during lunch. after returned to his mom's house, I fetched my missed a day dirty clothes after shower and left without entering the house. after I settled in dorm, my kid brother who almost blacklisted my phone, called in. he was informed by my son's mom or grandma that my violence can bring me into asylum again if I exert it again on my son. I laughed and told him that they can do anything as they will, I'm not feared. my brother claim I turning odd, and I shouldn't push my son so hard to American for here in China I should abide with its situation. I replied there are two way to learn after America, one way sending out richer Chinese to US, another way is bring US to China. in coming most of the week, my son kept muted when I buzzed him and sms him. I shifted our new Chinese phone from fiber optic internet bundle to him at the end of lunch and he promised will keep mobile phone reachable like an adult. even in the week I urgent to add backup phone to our 2 godaddy accounts. after 3 days including failed contacted godaddy support, I got thing done with synced sms log via ifttt I previously setup on the phone. on Saturday I lingered on bed lately to avoid boring and hard choice if I visit my son as usual. then my son sent me sms of verification code his phone received and I asked to transfer to me but denied times. I replied immediately that things done and asked if shower on Sunday as planned or plan B. my son didn't response me graciously. I soon decided to visit him. it's noon. I visited dorm canteen to fetch my washed clothes there, and borrow another ￥200 for gathering my son in dinning out together. when I entered the house, my son's mom blocked the door and questioned in what privilege I frequent there. I didn't reply and evade her into visit my son in his bedroom where he practicing e-piano. after they left for music class his mom arranged, I sorted my son's nexus in English podcast's companion. after they returned I tried awhile video game then my son dined out with me. now I can say storm of separation dissolved with consent of my son's once under performance. he should be more independent, out of childish custody. God, dad, Friday night drizzle blessed us. now shinny morning sunshine covers my concerns with triumph. bring me sooner my Royal China, my Crowned Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko. bring our better life in reach. grant us financial independent to broaden our cyberspace investment. allow us buy stylish pants with mobile pockets, and a camera for my desktop computer. pl resume my visa card and its credit limit sooner. thx God dad for all these years' affirmative.

Mar 30, 2017

dreamt with a slim guy who help doing scientific experiments like astronaut. I roamed with him in front of a lab where just gained fund to launch research. I saw my friend won the contract to execute experiment with his physic manipulation. last night I finally checked in my son's google domains account and found my only working credit card defied by google for region of PRC. so recharging our gvoice accounts impossible. I had to through godaddy to claim my new domain, my only new unconventional TLD, zuo.center. just before that near dusk I talked to my son in air that I can't help clinching those namespace I concocted, I want to buy him a domain he likes and cultivates like his own mirage garden. I suggested woga.me as google domains suggested to me and let him known I waiting for his response and impetus. in late night my kid brother sms back telling his paypal can't remit me $60 I previously sent him ￥420 for conversion because paypal denies. I told him just sent my deposit back in alipay. I teased him I constantly putting money into business while he had been withdrawing money from his workshop to purchase real estate. I warned him someday my properties might surplus his. got back to bed, I can't sleep but got up to check if he immediately sent my money back. after found the fund at its position, I launched to buy our 2 new domains on godaddy. its swift done. with these precious assets in hand, I felt surreal to acknowledge. I burned so many brains for them, identified their beauties in language correlation. I blamed myself in front of my son for my greediness but after all, Dad God, I'm so lucky to earn with my intelligence fast as finger tips. God dad, curb my passionate with domain and focus me on my enviable assets sustain and site building, ie. value mounting. bring me my Crowned Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, and free me from greediness. thx dad, in this sober dawn and joyful after battle scene, I means salvage of settlement and peace of bliss.

Mar 29, 2017

last night I dreamt of a senior middle school student. he likely researched something and wrote quite something. I with my son then in front of their school informed another girl classmate of the hidden book of the boy. it likely a notebook of weapon or martial art, or fantasy novel. I also dreamt rechargeable batteries we bought dearly from taobao rather than amazon turns poor quality and totally out of usable. last night I went to bed earlier, for praying my kid brother remitting USD I entrusted him for conversion from ￥420 I badly squeezed from salary last week and sent him immediately. for he owning a mall workshop and possibly has USD corporate account. I will recharge our google voice with them, and hopefully if my brother raises his hand to some allowance, I will purchase my last domain, the only new unconventional LTD, .center. my heart beats for the domain inspires me after I found my blessed namespace with it. and I surely known how severely my economy dangerous. last night its warm as usual, but this morning it drizzles, sometimes with snowflakes flow around. this week I enjoyed so many meaningful videos, including movies online. my life so rich with borderless web. and started with this week, I aimless on my site building. I sometimes napped after breakfast and worked focused after 10am. every night I went to bed with thanksgiving. the dorm canteen more and more treats me graciously: my food in monthly boarding and lodging bundle turns richer and more delicious. my laundry deal with the working woman executes smoothly, as last week I paid her first time in time with my salary which near ￥3000. my credit debt to bankcomm lower to 7800CNY, hopefully I can renew my hosting plan with it after reset 4 months later. dad God, I really need a credit card to cope with trifle bills. grant me a credit card with foreign currency. bring me sooner my Crowned Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, bring my son his real mother, and shelter our roof under starry sky with dreams and tears of spiritual inspirations. God, grant me tools I need for building new China Empire in new 21 Century. equip me financial independence to survive the coming brutal economic crisis in the world fallen.

woz crayon painting in his art class his mom arranged.

via Blogger http://ift.tt/2nSbcP6

#Blogger #benzillar #benzrad

0 notes