#now i can stress myself out over a spring challenge the next few years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Secrets of the West Wing (ch. 20)

Warnings: smut! (18+)

You can thank @itisdoctortoyousir for a fluffier/smuttier chapter. Originally, you were going to get so much angst.

This is for @sweetprentiss 's spring writing challenge!

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🦋

Chapter 20 - Home Sweet Home

June 2026

I had truly convinced myself that my nude scandal would blow over quickly. That the media would move on to the next headline. A week and a half went by, and the internet was still just as obsessed with my photos as it had been the first day. I tried my best not to let it get to me but I was so embarrassed and anxious about it. It was all I could think about; it prevented me from sleeping. Comments and headlines echoed in my mind. The lewd comments especially stuck in my mind.

To get my mind off of everything - the impending war, the letter, the scandal - Emily suggested we take a trip to relax. I begged her and Aaron to let me go home to Colorado. Once the idea entered my mind, I couldn't let it go. I hadn't been home in a year and a half and I was overwhelmingly homesick. Though our weekend away to Camp David had been nice, it wasn't the weekend away I wanted because it wasn't my space.

Because Aaron was still feeling guilty for allowing whoever it was to take photos of me, he made the trip home happen. Him and Emily sat down for a few days and planned sweeps of the neighborhood, agent postings on my property and around the neighborhood, and schedules for assignment rotations. I was too stressed and homesick to care about the imposition on my neighbors.

The flight to DIA was uneventful. Now that those close to me knew that Emily and I were dating, we allowed ourselves to hold hands on the jet. I flipped my legs up over her lap while we shared headphones and laughed about my "depressing" music taste. I could feel the weight leave my shoulders with each mile we flew closer to Colorado. And in no time at all, we made it home. It felt so good to be in my true home.

"Wow baby!" Emily exclaimed as soon as she walked in. "Your house is so beautiful. Thank you for letting me in your home."

"Emily." I shook my head. "Don't you know by now? You're my home." She wrapped me in her arms and squeezed tight. Her face buried in my hair.

She breathed in deeply. "You're my home too. You know that, right? I love you so much."

"Em, can I bounce something off of you?"

"Is it about what's happening in DC?" I nodded. "You're supposed to be relaxing. We came here to get this off your mind," she reminded me.

I broke free from her embrace and sat down on the couch. Emily followed me and pulled me on her lap. "I just think these things are related."

"Which things?" she asked.

"The letter and the scandal." I just had a hunch. I couldn't put my finger on why though.

"What makes you say that?" Emily inquired, playing with a curl near my ear.

"It just can't be a coincidence. I spent over a year without scandals! Or danger."

"I wouldn't go THAT far," she laughed lightly. She tugged on my hair. "You've had your fair share of threats, my love."

"But you know what I mean," I continued. "This has to be related. Who else would be able to have such private information about me in the letter and have enough access to be able to take that photo?"

"But the sweep turned nothing up. No cameras," Emily pointed out.

"All the more reason to assume it's related! It's someone inside the White House," I pointed out.

"Baby only you and I go in the residence..."

"Penelope goes in the residence," I said with a smirk.

"You aren't seriously suggesting Garcia did this, are you?" Emily asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft tickle to my side.

"Of course I'm not. But I'm just pointing out that people do come in and out of there sometimes."

Emily sat with that for a few moments, both of us getting lost in thought. She squeezed my thigh. "No more serious talk," she said with a lighter voice. "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"Oh?" I dropped my voice. "How are you going to get me to relax, ma'am?" I hoped she caught the hint that I wanted to play. Of course she did. Emily had a sixth sense for when I was ready for her to fuck me. Her fingers brushed up and down my thighs. "Please fuck me until I forget everything else."

"Can I fuck you in the shower?" Her voice set me on fire. My mouth went dry, and my head emptied; she was off to a great start. I simply nodded at her. She pushed me off her lap and towards the bathroom. I was only too happy to have her take the lead.

I watched her pull my favorite toy from her suitcase. My breathing quickened at the sight, excited for her to use it on me. She quickly pushed me in the bathroom and turned the water on to warm up. She leaned down and softly pressed her lips to mine. I was addicted to her lips. She refused to deepen our kiss, and it drove me crazy. I needed passion and frenzy. Instead, Emily was winding me up like a top.

"Emily," I panted as she kissed my neck. Her hands fell down to my waist, pulling my shirt up and over my head. My pants fell to the ground soon after. She was quick to get me naked. I moved my hands up her chest and around her neck. She encircled my wrists and held them to my chest.

"Only rule tonight is you may not touch me until I say so." Fine. Should be easy enough. She quickly stripped herself and then shoved me up against the smooth marble of my shower. The breath left my chest in a gust from the combination of the cold tile against my skin and the force with which she pushed me into the wall. She attacked any skin she could get her mouth on.

Though she was kissing me, it wasn't enough. I needed her tongue in my mouth. I wanted her teeth on my ear. But the steam in the shower coupled with Emily's hands and mouth felt indescribable. I moaned when she finally cupped my wet pussy. Embarrassed by how much louder my moans sounded in the shower, I buried my face in her neck and sucked slightly.

"Ah ah," Emily scolded. "I said no touching."

"Does that count?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes," she said simply. And then she slammed her fingers inside me.

"Em!" I gasped. But her fingers stilled. She just held them inside me. I ground myself further onto her hand - anything to get her deeper. I shut my eyes tight and rested my head back against the wall. Please please please. I chanted it like a mantra. I was already desperate to cum. One touch from Emily and I became her little toy. I tried my hardest to regulate my breathing, but I was so desperate for her to give me more.

The next thing I knew, Emily touched my favorite vibrator to my clit. I jumped back into the wall at the sudden wave of pleasure. "Emily, god. You feel so good." She started pumping her fingers in me. Languidly at first, but then she built up speed.

Her fingers curling into me and the strong vibrations had me on the edge within minutes. And suddenly, I understood Emily's rule for the night. She knew how badly I would need to cling onto something, but my shower had nothing. The marble behind me was smooth; there was not soap dish or bar to grab onto. I tried my hardest to dig my fingers into the marble, but I couldn't get a grip. And with nothing to ground me, I felt like I might float away. It was agonizing to be in so much pleasure and not have anything to anchor me. I fought so hard to keep my knees from buckling.

Before I could stop myself, my fingers, as if they had a mind of their own, dug into Emily's shoulders. And just as I was about to cum, Emily ripped the toy and her fingers away from me. I whimpered at the unexpected lack of pleasure. "Emily - please," I begged.

"I gave you one rule," she said harshly, "And you can't remember it long enough to follow it?" She was so close, her lips nearly touched mine. She took a step back, her head cocking to the side. She looked deep into my eyes and asked, "Did I fuck every last brain cell out of your head?" Her voice made my stomach quiver and my core throb. I couldn't respond. I was desperate to get that vibrator back on my clit and her fingers back inside me. "Answer me, y/n." Her voice was demanding.

I took a step towards her, determined to get her hands back on me. Her hand wrapped around my throat, and she pushed me back into the wall. She brought her face within centimeters of mine. I could feel her breath ghost over my lips, but she didn't give me the satisfaction of actually kissing me. "Let me remind you of the one rule I gave you for tonight since you're apparently too stupid to remember it. You may touch me only when you have permission." Her voice was so low and wicked. It set me on fire.

"Do you understand?" she asked slowly, as if I really were stupid. I nodded my head, but her hand tightened around my throat. I closed my eyes and moaned at the butterflies sweeping through my stomach. "Use your words, Angel. Do you understand the rule for tonight?"

Her grip loosened and I responded, "Yes ma'am. I won't touch you until I have permission."

She smiled softly and praised me. "There's my good girl. You're so good for me. Do you want to cum, Angel?"

I whimpered. "Yes, ma'am."

She slowly traced one finger up and down my slit, re-coating it with my wetness. "Are you going to be good for me?" she asked softly as she gradually entered me again.

"Mmm fuck, Emily. Yes, yes I'm going to be good for you." I attempted to dig my nails in the wall of my shower once again. I heard her click the vibrator on. I bit my lip in anticipation. However, instead of feeling the shock of pleasure on my clit, I felt Emily place the vibrator on my nipples. A line of pleasure shot down to my core. I bucked my hips, accidentally bumping into hers. I flashed my eyes up to hers, scared she was going to stop again.

"Don't worry baby. I won't stop touching you because of an accident. That was an accident, right, Princess?"

I nodded furiously, desperate for her to keep going. "Yes, ma'am. I remember the rule. I wouldn't break it on purpose."

She chuckled darkly. "Oh, Angel. You and I both know that's not true. I know just how much of a brat you can be." My mind flashed to our time in Europe, and I contemplated being a brat just to get Emily to be that rough with me again. "But you're being so good tonight, aren't you, Angel?" she cooed in my ear, softly tracing the shell with her tongue. And with her praise, all ideas of disobeying flew out of my head. That soft voice in my ear while she fucked me hard was unmatched.

I gasped and threw my head back again. Her lips travelled down my neck, and she moved the vibrator to my clit. "Yes," I hissed, rocking my hips. I picked up the pace, on the verge of cumming. The pleasure was too much. I had nothing to ground me to Emily. My wails echoed around the bathroom, and my knees buckled from the pleasure. Both of her hands occupied, Emily pressed her body into mine tightly - sandwiching me between her and the shower wall.

My hands slapped against the wall, and once I came down, Emily removed her fingers from in me and wrapped her arm around my waist to help support me. My head flopped to her shoulder. That orgasm took so much out of me. "I'm sorry," I whispered. Even though I had cum, I didn't want to break my mistress's rule.

She turned the water off and helped me dry off. She gave me several kisses on my forehead and cheeks. "For what, baby?" her voice now soft.

"I broke your rule again, but I just feel like jello. Is this okay, ma'am?"

She chuckled, stroking my cheek. "Yes, baby. Come. Let me tuck you in." I mumbled against her neck, my feet dragging underneath me. We crawled into bed, and she immediately pulled me into her, spooning me. "So did I succeed?" she asked.

"Hmm?" I mumbled, my brain half-dead.

"Did I fuck you until everything else went away?"

"Mmm," I grunted at her. I wiggled back into her warmth, tugging her arm tighter around me like a blanket.

She laughed lightly. "I'll take that as a yes." I hummed at her again, noncommittally. I felt her lips press into my bare shoulder.

"Love you," I muttered.

"I love you too, baby," she mumbled against my skin. Her fingers traced the skin on my stomach and down my leg. Her hand slid back up and cupped my boob. I hummed in contentment. Nothing compared to being safe at home in Emily's arms. I wondered if she'd move here with me once my term was up. I wondered if she wanted this forever like I did.

Continue to next chapter

#Secrets of the West Wing #iv’s spring writing challenge 2022 🌸#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds au #criminal minds fanfiction #wlw writing #🌬 fics

26 notes · View notes

harrypotterbrainworms · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s Doom

Summary: A very oblivious young boy has caught the loving eyes of Remus Lupin, but how can one express his feelings if every time (Y/N) opens his mouth, Remus melts like a box of chocolates in the sun.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name, (H/C)- hair colour, (N/N)- nickname

Words: 2587

A/N: I spent way to long on this, almost a week ;-;. I hope you enjoy it!

“Remussss, please. Pretty please with a cherry on top. I promise I’ll make it up to you” (Y/N) pleaded Remus to let him copy his homework. He had completely forgotten to do his own which was mostly Sirius’s fault, keeping him up all night.

“You do realise you have to do your homework in order to graduate, right? It’s a basic skill to have.” He cocked his eyebrow, looking up at the pleading boy in front of him.

“I know, I know, Blah blah, if you don’t learn you’ll never survive in the “real” world. I know the spiel.” He rambled on, motioning a small Remus puppet with his hand mocking the tone of his friend’s warnings.

He had spent the whole night playing tag with Sirius and racing around the courtyard like the drunk children they were. Remus knew this of course, waking up every so often to look down at them being idiots from the tower.

“And yet you still go on late night joy rides with Sirius” He sighed and closed the book he was reading as he watched his friends stuff their faces with toast and eggs.

“Please, Moony.” He begged once more, pulling the sweet and innocent face he knew Remus couldn’t say no to, even adding a slight quivering lip for dramatic affect.

The shorter boy pressed his fingers against his temples trying his best to distract himself from the sweet face of his friend, but gave in.

“Fine, last time I swear to Merlin.” He repeated the same line he always said when (Y/N) or any of his friends asked. He always managed to give in too soon to the pleads.

“Thank you!” (L/N) chirped up giving Remus the warmest smile he could, taking the few pages Remus handed him then took his seat again.

“Y-You’re welcome.” He stuttered out, blushing a bit. James wiggling his eyebrows at Remus, receiving a death glare in return.

“Padfoot, get your ass here! We have t-minus 20 minutes to copy it all” He pulled Sirius’s arm to climb over the table and sit next to him. Both of them pulled out paper to start.

“Wait you didn’t-“ The flustered boy said, not being able to finish his retort before he was interrupted again.

“Thank you again, Moony. We appreciate this so much” Remus could barely get any words out after that, only being about to nod his head in response. (Y/N) did look like he appreciated his friend’s effort to help him stay in school.

James gave him a knowing smile before continuing to devour his breakfast plate while Remus just sighed looking at the two boys copying his homework.

“You lads are gonna be the death of me.” He finally said, opening up his book again and continuing to eat his own meal.

Remus always thought he fanced boys a lot more than girls, but he knew for sure when he set his eyes on (Y/N) for the first time. They were never that close, not that he had tried to get closer. The taller boy just seemed to take a liking to Sirius more than anyone else in the group, always fooling around and getting into trouble more so than himself and James.

He spent many nights awake with James, while the other two snuck out, talking about (Y/N) and how much he liked everything about him.

The day passed by quickly as they always did, pranks and studying. Waiting for the next moon adventure.

Remus sat in the dull light of the common room that evening, relaxing to the sound of the fireplace when (Y/N) burst through the door as chaotic as ever. Collapsing on the sofa next to him.

“Hi, Moony” He smiled nonchalantly, taking a peak at the book he was reading. Remus partly ignored him, giving him an acknowledging hum.

“Oh, I see you’re reading one of my books. Do you like it?” He said while bending over to read the cover. (Y/N) as dumb as he could be, enjoyed reading just as much as Remus did. A lot of the time they spent together was in the library or reading together.

“I do, rather exciting. Didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, but thank you for borrowing it to me” Remus smiled, making (Y/N) blush a little.

“I’m glad!” He said, thumping back onto the sofa. Now trying to keep up with the pace his friend was reading at. He yawned softly, he was quite exhausted from a long day of school. He was about ready to take a nap.

Laying his head lightly on his friend’s shoulder, he asked Remus to read aloud so he could rest his eyes.

As much as (Y/N) was a pain in his ass, he was a joy to be around. A light in his life unlike the light of his other friends. The heat on his face didn’t help either.

“Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?" "It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...” He spoke in a hush tone, narrating the book for (Y/N).

“I love this part, it’s so nice” (Y/N) smiled, getting comfortable for this afternoon nap. Remus stopped for a moment looking at his soft (H/C) hair and sleep ready face.

“Why did you stop? Was it me? I’ll shut up now” He said half asleep, waiting for his friend to continue the story again and that’s how they both fell asleep that late afternoon.

His book laying over his chest, his hands wrapped around the smaller boy like two cats huddled under a sun beam.

The next week was stressful with Valentine’s Day approaching and love in the air, it was all James could speak out.

“Oh Lily, a name so sweet just like the flower. A scent so alluring, oh Lily, my love, oh how can live without you. Life is , but a muggle roller coaster going up with you” He sighed, hugging the small envelope in his arms. Sirius gagged and pretended to throw up while Remus and (Y/N) laughed at his attempt at poetry.

“This is the year, boys. This is the year Lily Evans will be mine” He looked up at the great hall’s morning sky, his eyes twinkling with the love in his heart.

The other Marauders were painfully single, as was James, but the way he talked about Lily you’d think they’re already married. Lily however looked as though she would vomit at any given time James looked at her.

Tomorrow the whole hall would be filled with hearts and love potions. He was sure someone would slip one of them a potion, it happened every year, last year they had to nurse Peter to health ‘cause someone thought it would be funny if Peter fell in love McGonagall.

“Merlin, Prongs. One more word about Lily and I might curse myself” Sirius sighed and hid his own small envelope under his robe.

“How can I?” James sighed once, looking over the Lily who was sitting with her own friends pretending he didn’t exist. He rested his hand on his arm, sighing loudly and dramatically.

The day passed once again leading the five back into their common room, all tired of classes. The conversation immediately leaped to what would happen the next day.

“I bet Lily will finally accept that we are soulmates separated by a tragic past life” James said proudly once again pulling out the small heart littered envelope he had been carrying all day.

“I bet it’ll be another Valentine’s Day alone for you, dear Prongs” Sirius said in a soft and sweet voice, not mirrored with the evil little smirt of his face.

“Fine. Let’s make a bet then. All five of us, come on” James challenged the boys in the room who looked angrily at Sirius who always started these silly bets.

“Okay, Moony? Wormtail? (N/N)? You in?” Sirius chirped

“No way, last time I had to change my hair green and silver.” Remus said shaking his head profusely, Sirius looked at him and (Y/N) with his puppy dog eyes. Almost considering changing himself into a dog to guilt trip them.

“No need to convince me twice, I’m always in for a bet”

“I’m always in too” Peter chimed in, though no one was surprised as he just did whatever James asked anyway. “Fine, I’m in. What’s the bet?” Remus finally gave in after the whole group joined in, he felt as though he was gonna regret this.

“All us dashing young men need to find a date tomorrow. Anyone who’s rejected has to spend the night on the Quidditch pitch, no blankets, no clothing. Only underwear”

“Deal.” Sirius said quickly, shaking James’ hand.

“How do we always get dragged into this?” Remus sighed and let his head fall back onto the sofa, his arms over his face.

The next day was grueling work, everyone already had a date. James hadn’t asked Lily anything yet, his anxiety suddenly overcoming him, Sirius had been slapped in the face about 5 times, (Y/N) remembered he didn’t know anyone else, Peter had actually acquired a date out of some miracle and Remus was nowhere to be seen.

“Anyone see, Moony yet?” Sirius sighed, a small ice pack on his face. All the men looked completely defeated except Peter who had practically skipped over to them with the news he had gotten a date.

“Nope” (Y/N) quickly looked around the great hall as they sat for lunch, he was a little worried about him. Maybe he was brooding somewhere alone. Maybe was crying that he couldn’t find a date, maybe he was-

“I’m gonna go look for him” He stood up quickly, speed walking towards the closest boys bathroom, then the next and the next. He couldn't see him in any of the bathrooms. He was a little more worried now, well a lot more worried.

A little tired and defeated with the next bell ringing, he got to the next class first and to his surprise and relief Remus was there.

“Idiot. You scared us, we barely saw you today, what the fuck?” He came up behind him and flicked his forehead scolding him. He apologised and said he had to fetch a special package from the owlery alone. (Y/N) didn’t ask anything, just glad to see nothing bad happened.

“Any luck on a date?” He said, still waiting for the other classmates to arrive.

“Not yet, might look at real estate on the pitch” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in his wide smile, flushing (Y/N)’s cheeks a bit.

They chatted for a short while before the last three troublemakers burst through the potion room door. Peter still has a bright smile on his face.

“Why so cheery, Wormtail?”

“He’s the only one of us with a date” James sighed loudly, still clutching his letter for Lily. He looked a lot less confident than yesterday, Peter deflating his ego even more.

The day passed and soon they were sulking on the sofa together, all now very painfully single besides Peter who was happily owling the Hufflepuff girl he had asked out. James finally had the courage to give the letter to Lily who just gave him a small smile before immediately b-lining out of potions. He was crushed, a broken shell of a man, at least that’s how he described it. Sirius had received about ten more slaps across the face. The other two had just accepted they would be huddling for warm on the pitch or so they thought.

“Here guys, we deserve it” Remus stood up suddenly grabbing the mysterious bag he was hiding under the couch.

He handed each one of the boys a small box of handmade chocolate, Remus’ specialty. They all lighted up suddenly at the prospect of chocolate except for (Y/N). Who got discreetly given a slightly bigger box and when he opened it, they were all heart shaped unlike the other threes’.

“Thanks so much, Moony! What would we do without you” (Y/N) smiled brightly, causing Remus to stiffen up a little.

The other two very quickly realised their chocolates were different than the (H/C) boy’s were. They know what was up, but (Y/N) was not in the loop.

“I’ll be back.” Remus quickly said, doing a 180 turn towards the porthole, leaving the others.

“I hope Moony’s okay. Maybe he got rejected.” He frowned looking at the closing door. He wanted to check up on him, but maybe he just wanted to be alone.

The other two in the room looked at each other, at their chocolates and back at (Y/N). They both decided it was about fucking time, if Remus wasn’t gonna do it. They would.

“You really are dense, (Y/N). He likes you, isn’t it obvious?” James said not looking up from his homework as he sat on the desk in the common room. Sirius shrugged in agreement and (Y/N) looked a little shocked.

He looked down at the box of heart shaped chocolates in front of him, everything finally clicking in his mind as he face palmed his brain.

“Oh my god. Wait really?” He questioned again, the thought had never crossed his mind that Remus would feel the same way he did. He never thought Remus was gay like he was though now that he thought about it, it was kind of obvious.

“You really didn’t know?” Sirius said while struggling to unwrap the ribbon off his own valentine chocolates. (Y/N) really felt dumb as a rock.

“Fuck.” He cussed under his breath, quickly exiting the room to find Remus.

He saw a flash of light hair belonging to the boy on his mind, he raced toward him in a fast walk. Quickly catching up and grabbing his shoulder.

“Moony! Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t know these were those kinds of chocolates” (Y/N) said a little out of breath still clutching the box in his hands, looking at them briefly before turning to the taller boy.

“It’s fine, (N/N). I don’t think you would’ve accepted them anyway.” Remus sighed softly, what looked like a few tears running down his face which (Y/N) immediately wiped off with his finger gently.

He smiled widely at the crying boy next to him, then gave him a huge hug.

“Yes I would have! I would’ve loved getting chocolates like that.” He said brightly, gripping onto the taller boy’s neck tighter. Not wanting to let go.

“You would?” Remus sniffed quietly, barely speaking over a whisper. He breathed into the (Y/N)’s necks, smelling the sweet smell of his coconut shampoo and cologne.

“Of course! I’m sorry I’m a little oblivious sometimes. I do like you, though… a lot.” He said sheepishly, blushing into the crook of Remus’ neck.

“You do?” He questioned again, his crying stopped and he felt very warm and fuzzy. The butterflies in his stomach beating him up.

“YES! Now come eat these with me. We won the bet.” He let go of Remus and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the common room again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” Sirius said as he saw his two friends hand in hand.

“Looks like we’re sleeping outside” James sighed, looking at the pitch from outside the window...

“So cold.”

#Young!Remus Lupin #young!sirius black #young!james potter #young!peter pettigrew #Young!Remus x Reader #remus lupin x male reader #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #Marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #hp #x reader #x male reader

295 notes · View notes

cap-winter-barnes · 4 years

Text

No Matter What - Dean Winchester x Reader

2K WRITER & READER CHALLENGE

Here it is, my fic for ‘Amanda’s 2K Write & Reader Challenge’ using the prompt “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking”. This is the first piece of writing I have ever done for a challenge and I absolutely loved doing it.

If you enjoy it, please feel free to check out my other work. My requests are always open. And whilst you’re at it, go and give @amanda-teaches a follow and check out her work too, she writes awesome stuff!

Warnings: angst, teeth-rotting fluff

A/N: Based lightly upon the episode ‘Regarding Dean’ (12x11). This episode utterly broke my heart so obviously had to use it for a sad(ish) fic.

Four hours. That is how long it has been since Dean left for food. The motel room lays in silence as I anxiously await his return. Sam retired to bed not too long ago, desperate for some rest, with the sweet promise of Dean’s safe homecoming as his departing words. Sitting in our bed, fully dressed and boots tied securely to my feet, I think of all the possible worst case scenarios. My mind running amok with fear at the absence of the man I love. Without Dean the room we have been sharing is cold, evident by the way the hairs on my arms stand on edge, goosebumps rising on my skin. Rolling the sleeves of his plaid shirt down over my hands, I try and compose myself.

Dean is a hunter, the best there is, and he can handle himself in a fight. If anything were to have happened to him, he’d be alright, he always was. With that sliver of hope in my mind and the knowledge that Dean knows his way around the supernatural, I start to relax slightly. Glancing at the alarm clock on the worn chest of drawers that shows the time as a few minutes past midnight, an involuntary yawn leaves my body. I try and fight the fatigue that has been weighing me down, but I know that the attempt will be futile. With the added stress and worry of Dean not coming back as expected, my body has become overridden with exhaustion. Leaning back into the softness of the pillows behind my back and the prospect of Dean returning safely back to us, I fall into a light slumber.

The repetitive sound of my name being called is what drags me from my sleep, a sleep plagued with terrible nightmares. Slowly opening my eyes to the silhouette of Sam in the doorway makes my body spring upwards from its resting position. A pain shoots through my neck, the realisation that I had in fact slept awkwardly, with my back propped against the wall, and a pillow haphazardly strewn sideways across the headboard. Rubbing at the sore area, I make eye contact with the younger Winchester before taking in his positive demeanour. In his hand, he clutches his phone, shaking it for emphasis when I direct my attention to it. Immediately I forget about the aches which radiate through me and sit upright.

“Sammy-“ Before I can get another word in, he interrupts me, easing my nerves, replacing them with relief.

“He’s alive.” His statement is accompanied by a chuckle of disbelief and a shake of his head. “He’s at Waldo’s. Leave in ten?”

“Make it five, Samuel.”

His laugh, so rarely heard, echoes as he leaves the room, walking across the balcony back to his own room. “Okay, five. And I’m driving.” Hearing his receding voice, I remove myself from the bed and make myself more presentable in preparation for Dean’s excuses.

Upon entering Waldo’s Waffles, both Sam and I, are met with the sight of Dean stuffing his face full of a combination of waffle, banana, blueberry and whipped cream. A lightness filled by heart at seeing him in one piece, no blood to be seen. But there was a shadow of doubt looming over everything, something was wrong. Dean’s blue jacket is caked in mud and dirt, his right sleeve completely covered in the stuff. His face is filthy, dirt embedded into the lines around his eyes and nose, scratches scattered across his cheeks. What had happened last night? I watch on as Sam approaches his brother, rattling a bottle of pills before throwing them into his awaiting hands. Surely this couldn’t be a hangover? It isn’t uncommon for Dean to drink, yet venturing out alone for a night of drinking and returning the next morning with a hangover? That is something he hasn’t done in years.

Eventually snapping out of my moment of thought, I walk over to where they both sit, Dean once again shoving food into his mouth. Noticing my presence, Dean perks up, a typical cheeky grin spreading across his face. He enthusiastically pulls out the vacant stool next to him, gesturing for me to take a seat. I can’t help but smile as he does so, especially when he places a kiss to my cheek. Sam has an expression of utter confusion on his face, glancing repetitively between the both of us. Shrugging my shoulders once Dean’s attention is once again directed at his waffles, supposing he did have a hangover, he wouldn’t normally be so cheerful.

Without looking in my general direction, Dean nudges a full plate of waffles topped with strawberries and an abundance of whipped cream towards me. A fork hangs between his middle and ring fingers, the platinum band that is placed on the latter of the two, shines under the fluorescent lighting. It is still an amazement that it hasn’t gotten scratched or required cutting off from his finger. Before we were married, the discussion of the ring was paramount, but Dean was set on wearing one. His reasoning being that without one it wouldn’t feel true. At his words my heart had fluttered in my chest and continues to do so every time I catch a glimpse of the precious metal on his hand. I take the fork, twirling between my own fingers, watching the rings on my own finger as I do so.

Both brothers delve into conversation about the current case we have been working as I tuck into the waffles that sit before me. Considering I haven’t eaten since before Dean’s disappearance last night, I suddenly find myself starving. Each bite an overwhelming sensation of sweetness and sugar. Every now and again, Dean switches his gaze to me, a soft smile on his lips as he observes me enjoying the food. I listen intently to the boys and the more I do, the more my appetite decreases, worry and concern settles in, sending a shiver through my body. The more Dean says about not remembering his night and his assumption of blacking out, the more I feel nauseous. Dropping the fork onto the plate, I push it as far away from me as I can.

As a distraction, I involve myself within the ongoing discussion.

“Dean, you seriously don’t remember anything about what happened to you last night?” He momentarily thinks over this before responding.

“Nope.” He runs his hands over his face, and it is then, that I truly see how tired he really is.

“Baby, why don’t we get you back to the motel so you can get some rest?” Like a child, Dean just nods his head in agreement, standing from the counter and making his way towards the exit.

“Did you pay?” Sam chimes in with the question as Dean passes him, the younger sibling now standing from his own stool.

“Oops, no. Right.” Myself and Sam make eye contact in that moment, both filled with concern for Dean. But for his sake, we say nothing, choosing to keep this between ourselves for the time being.

Once in the impala, it becomes clear that something is most definitely wrong with Dean. Starting with not putting the car into reverse, to forgetting the details of the current case. After a heated argument between the two brothers, it was settled upon that Sam would contact Rowena in the hopes of discovering the cause of Dean’s possible amnesia.

Back at the motel, Sam stays in the impala to call Rowena, away from the listening ears of his brother. The way that Dean wanders aimlessly from the parking lot to the building itself has me feeling uneasy. Even more so as I observe him approach the wrong room. Jogging over to him, I take him by the arm and swiftly guide him over to the correct door.

“All these dumps look the same.” Dean’s disgruntled demeanour would usually cause me to laugh, however, in this situation it’s not even close to cracking a smile.

“I know, baby. I know.” Tears are now threatening to spill as I open the motel room door. Clearing my throat, I advise Dean to go and take a shower to freshen up, then after get some well deserved sleep.

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind him, my façade breaks and the tears begin to fall. Putting on a brave face whilst watching the man I love slowly forgetting things that have occurred over the last few days, has taken a great toll on me. Like at Waldo’s, a wave of nausea hits me and it only forces me to bawl harder, sitting down on the unmade bed. Through the bathroom door, I can hear Dean undressing, his clothes hitting the cold linoleum floor. A moment of silence is followed by the wooden door opening a fraction.

“Hey, Y/N?” I hurriedly wipe the fallen tears from my face.

“Hmm?” There he stands in the open doorway of the rundown bathroom, torso bare, a nervous expression on his face.

“When,” he frowns before speaking again, “when did I get a tattoo?” Towards the end of his question he perks up, amusement clear in his tone. With his hands, he gestures to the anti-possession mark on his upper chest. At this, I can’t help the small smile that appears on my face, yet at the same time, it fills me with dread.

Standing from my place on the bed, I cross the room to stand in front of him, taking his face in my hands.

“It’s your anti-possession mark, Dean. That,” I take my right hand, placing my fingertips to the black ink marking his skin, “protects you from being possessed by a demon.” I refrain from bringing up the period in which Dean was a demon for a time. Glancing back to his face, I realise that he looks shocked.

“D-demons are real?” At his words, I can no longer stop the tears from tumbling down my cheeks. Again, I break down as I pull his body closer, holding him against me tightly.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No matter what happens, I will always love you. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. That look of worry, concern, all of that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, everything’s going to work out fine.”

Dean’s hands are on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. Placing a chaste kiss to my forehead, he again holds me tighter, whispering forever promises of his love.

It has only been a day and a half since Dean’s ‘amnesia’ began taking full force. Yet, I will trade anything to go back to yesterday. With the arrival of Rowena and the discovery that Dean was under a witch’s spell, things soon began to take a turn for the worst.

Awaking this morning to the sight of Dean twisting his wedding band around his finger takes the air out of my lungs. He sits on the opposite side of the motel room, the room that is scattered with sticky notes labelling a majority of the items within it. Long hours of research and tracking to find the witch responsible for this spell, had me falling asleep uncomfortably in the armchair by the door. Dean had occupied the bed, falling into a deep slumber by ten o’clock.

“Why do I have this?” My worst fears have finally come true and as Dean raises his head, my heart breaks completely in two. As usual, I cannot bring myself to lie to him or cause him to feel guilty.

“It’s, erm, it’s a wedding ring.” A scoff leaves his mouth as I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“Am I married?” Snapping my head up to look at him, he realises what he has said. “Am I married to you?”

Half-heartedly, I raise my left hand, indicating the two rings that situate themselves on my ring finger, trying with all my might to not cry again.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you. You’re beautiful.”

A smile is all I can bring to give him in return, instead I excuse myself and retreat to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. In the safety of the small tiled room, I cry until there is nothing left to cry.

Exiting the bathroom, I am met with the sight of Dean, Sam and Rowena, crowded at the door. Before I can ask what is happening, I am interrupted by Dean’s rough voice.

“Who’s this?”

And there it is.

Deciding that it would be best for Rowena to take care of Dean, with no close emotional attachment to him, I accompany Sam to deal with the witches. The agreement was that if Sam did not return within half an hour, I was to enter as back up. Hence me now sneaking my way through an open window on the ground floor of the house.

But with the thought of Dean’s safety and wellbeing on my mind, I am greatly distracted.

Although I have many years of experience with hunting witches, this coven is one of the strongest I have encountered yet, and I am unprepared. Proving true, when I come face to face with the female of the group. Before I can aim my gun, she has me spiralling across the room, into a wooden bookcase. My vision is blurry and my head feels heavy as I try and raise my gun in her direction. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. A final unsuccessful attempt of moving has me drained and I succumb to the darkness that is trying to overtake my vision and mind.

“Hey, Y/N?” Everything sounds far away as I come around. The feeling of someone’s hand on my cheek grounding me. “Y/N! Hey, can you hear me?”

“De?” That was definitely Dean’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Opening my eyes fully, I am met with the sight of a smiling Dean, although his eyes are filled with worry.

“You remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget my beautiful wife?” A laugh escapes me alongside some tears, although this time happy tears.

“Don’t I always promise you, that no matter what, everything is going to be alright?” I nod in agreement. “And don’t I always promise you that I will always love you?”

“Yeah, Dean, you do.”

He pulls me into a hug, although the most uncomfortable hug in the current position in which we are situated.

“And I’m glad I’m married to you. You’re beautiful.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean imagine #supernatural imagine #requests are open #fanfic #supernatural #amandas 2k writer and reader challenge #challenge #2k writer + reader challenge #writer challenge #supernatural writing challenge

113 notes · View notes

roguesandsaviors · 4 years

Text

Cover Story Needed

Fandom: The Walking Dead Characters: Negan, Reader Pairing: Negan x Reader Summary: In a moment of desperation, you lie to one of your coworkers about having a boyfriend, needing to avoid his skeevy pick up attempts for the next company dinner. The only one who might be able to help is your friend and neighbor, Negan. Word Count: 4,521 Rating: SFW Warning: Cursing, Negan being Negan, some violence, threatening behavior Author’s Note: This is for Meg’s 11K Follower challenge. Thanks to @thranduilsperkybutt for hosting it. The prompts were Au and trope based, which was an absolute blast. This is the first of a few fics (three but possibly more) I signed up for. Fake dating/pretend couple and Negan? How could I possibly pass that up. I haven’t done a lot of reader insert fics because I find I often struggle with them. So I hope this came out okay. Not Beta-ed so all mistakes are my own.

********************************************************************

Another social event, a plea for money in disguise, and another chance for that prick of a coworker to annoy the shit out of you. You weren’t sure that you could stomach it but there was no real way to back out of the obligation. The company was requiring your presence, asking you to give a presentation on the latest research that was coming out of your department.

The word got out about the event and in no time, Charles had made his way over to you, a grin on his face that made you want to smack him. He had no reason to be that cocky about anything. He was a subpar scientist at best and in no way was he God’s gift to women like he thought that he was.

“Hey, Y/N. I was hoping that we could talk about the dinner coming up. I know that they are having you give a presentation. But, I thought that we could go together. You know, have someone nice on your arm and make the evening even better. Maybe we could even have our own little presentation afterwards.” The thought made you want to gag. How he had not gotten fired for sexual harassment was beyond you. A tight smile came to your face and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry Charles. I already have someone that I will be going with.” He frowned and leaned in closer, causing you to lean back more.

“We just found out about it. How can you possibly have someone to go with.”

“It’s my boyfriend.” You were going to owe Negan big time for this one. Whatever he asked for, he was going to get it.

“Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boyfriend?” His displeasure was growing more obvious by the moment, which was only causing your discomfort to grow worse.

“That’s frankly none of your business. Now, I would appreciate it if you would leave me to my work.” It had been a long time since you had shoved your foot in your mouth that badly but there was no one that he had been ready to accept no for an answer. You just prayed that Negan was free and willing to go along with the plan.

You and Negan had been neighbors for close to five years and friends for a little over half of that time. A grill incident in your backyard had led to some shared take out and a couple of beers. It had been a Friday night ritual since. It was a nice way for him to unwind after his week and served as a pick me up for any pending crises that could arise over the weekend for you.

You settled your bag down on the table, keys tossed into their bowl before toeing off your shoes. It was better to get a hold of the man in question now than delay things and perseverate on them. It was just a matter of figuring out whether to go over to his place and ask or call him. Embarrassment was going to happen either way and you were trying to figure out which method was going to save a little more face.

The decision was taken out of your hands when you heard his voice calling through an open window.

“About fucking time you got home, Y/N.” He grumbled, though the grin on his face spoke a different story. “It was a fucking shit day at the office. Picked a bottle of that stuff that you like along with a bottle of whiskey for myself. Figured we could settle in, watch some horrible b rated action movie and get shit faced.” Nothing really sounded better at that moment.

“The doors unlocked. Come on in.” Maybe you could wait until you were a little drunk before springing the question on him. Then you could at least blame any awkwardness on the alcohol. That seemed like a good plan.

Negan pushed open the back door and the clinging of bottles could be heard.

“How was your day?”

“I got pegged to give a presentation of the latest research at the dinner that is planned Saturday night.”

“That’s awesome. Congrats doll.”

“Actually, I was hoping that I could talk to you about that.”

“All fucking ears.” You had been hoping that he would push it off but as you moved to the kitchen, you could see that he was pouring drinks for the both of you.

“Uh, well you see, Charles asked to go with me.”

“That asshole still bothering you?” It wasn’t the first time that you had brought up the other man’s name. Negan knew that he made you feel uncomfortable. “Wait, you aren’t going with him are you?” He stopped what he was doing and looked up, something passing over his face that you couldn’t read.

“Oh god no. I haven’t been on a date in months but that is a level of desperation that I will never reach.” He laughed and relaxed a bit, moving to hand you the glass that he had poured.

“Good. Prick like that doesn’t need anyone giving into that pressure bullshit. He’s lucky that he doesn’t run into me.” That was going to change if he agreed to your request.

“Actually, you might. See, I told him that I had a boyfriend and couldn't’ go with him since I was going with someone else.”

“Fucker should have just taken no for an answer.”

“I know Negan. The excuse came out before I could help it. I didn’t mean to lie about it.”

“So you want me to go with you?” Not much escaped the man, that was certain.

“I was hoping you weren’t busy on Saturday. You’re the only one I trust enough to do this.”

“Well, I’m flattered, doll. And you just so happen to be in luck that my Saturday is clear.” He smirked and took a sip of his glass. “This mean I have to behave? Or can I knock the fuckers teeth down his throat if he causes any issue.” It was a work function and you would prefer not to have to deal with any fallout of an altercation. At the same time, the thought of watching Negan put Charles into his place was more than appealing.

“You know what, I don’t care. He’ll have it coming if he does something stupid.”

“That’s the spirit. I didn’t even need to get you drunk for that.” He teased as he threw an arm around your shoulders. “Think I’m rubbing off on you, Y/N.” He led you to the couch, where you both plopped down. After having spent so much time panicking about what he would say and what you would have to do if he said no, you were feeling more than ready to unwind and drink away the stress of the day. The burn in your throat was welcomed as you took a long drink from the glass, hearing the snicker from the man beside you. Blindly, you reached out and smacked him on the arm, already knowing where he was going to go with a comment.

“Pick out a movie already.” You mumbled and kicked your feet up.

“Yes ma’am.” He teased, earning himself another smack. He flicked through a few channels before finding something that looked God awful, just the sort of movie that you both needed to forget the days that you had. *************************** The night had come and you were feeling nervous about it all over again. Negan had put up a little bit of a stink when he had learned that he would need to get dressed up for it. The entire event was being held at a rather high end hotel and there would be plenty of potential donors and other important members of the board present.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to clean up that nice.” You looked towards Negan, surprised to see just how sharp he looked in his suit. You weren’t ever one to deny that he was good looking but the thoughts had not gone any further than that. He was your friend and that was a relationship that you didn’t want to lose.

“Ain’t the only looking fine doll.” He winked as he whistled, a low sound, taking in the outfit you had chosen for the evening. It was nothing over the top but it suited the fact that you would be standing behind a podium talking to a large room full of fellow scientists. A flowing blouse and skirt that dropped to halfway down your calves made up your outfit. You looked down at yourself, not wanting to blush in front of the man. “I’ll have the best looking lady on my arm tonight.”

“Alright mister smooth talker. Are you ready to go?”

“Easy Y/N. I’m just playing with you. Come on.” He led you over to his Camaro. It was a pet project of his, something that you had watched him work on and restore piece by piece over the past year.

“I didn’t realize that you finished her up.” He opened the door for you.

“Got her done a couple weeks ago but was saving giving her the first drive for a special occasion.” Some heat came to your cheeks as he spoke about it being a special occasion. It was nothing more than a friend helping a friend. Negan was being kind and offering to pretend to be your boyfriend for the evening. There wasn’t much that was special about that. Though, he was also trying to show up Charlies and that was a reason enough to pull this beauty out for a proper drive.

The drive over was enjoyable, filled with the usual back and forth banter that had come to be the norm between you two. You found some comfort in that, a solid footing that was familiar when there was going to be so many off kilter moments coming up.

“You ready doll?” He asked as he pulled the car to a stop.

“Not like I can back out of it.” You stared at the building in front of you, knowing that no matter how much you would have liked to head back home and spend the evening lounging with Negan, there was no chance of that happening. Giving the presentation wasn’t the problem. It was the evening surrounding it that had you nervous.

“Of course you fucking can. I can turn this car around right now.” You offered him a smile, appreciating what he was willing to do for you. He was a good friend.

“No.” You shook your head. “Thank you though.”

“Well then, let’s get this fucking show on the road. You just gotta get through this presentation, we’ll eat a little, and head home so you can get shit faced and forget about all this bullshit.” The comment finally got a small laugh out of you.

“Thank you Negan.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” You both got out of the car and Negan moved over, offering his hand. Taking it, you let out a slow breath to keep all the nerves as reigned in as possible. The warmth of his hand was comforting and after a nod, the two of you made your way to the conference room.

There were already a lot of bodies milling about, most having drinks in hand. That didn’t seem like a bad idea but you couldn’t get away with drinking too much. Being drunk, giving the presentation would make things easier in that moment but had some horrible long term consequences. You pushed off the feeling and found yourself giving Negan’s hand a squeeze. He hadn’t moved from your side and was observing the room around you.

Before you had the chance to say anything to him, Charles and Richard, your boss came up to the two of you. Charles was already eyeing Negan while Richard was all smiles. That was odd. Your boss was a cheery person, and thankfully someone who believed in the work that you did. You had come against your fair share of men who still thought that science belonged to them and women had no place.

“Good evening Miss Y/L/N. And who do you have with you.” He held out his hand to Negan, who shook it with a smile but it was hard to miss the look that he was giving Charles. He already knew who the man was.

“Good evening Richard. This is my significant other, Negan.” Boyfriend felt a little childish but in this setting. You settled on the more adult sounding title, though it still felt odd coming from your mouth.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He offered before it became obvious that you were going to have to introduce Charles.

“My coworker Charles.” You offered as your hand tightened in his again. The stare down was tense and even Richard seemed to pick up on it as the smile faltered. The handshake between the two men was stiff at best. There were no words exchanged between them and you rocked on your heels for a moment, just waiting for the fight to break out. Negan didn’t have great self control at times but you hoped that given the setting, he would be behaved.

“Gotta admit, I thought Y/N was pulling my leg when she said that she had a boyfriend.” You swallowed, hoping that he wouldn’t poke and prod too much. It wasn’t like you and Negan didn’t know each other well but surely someone who decided to look into it enough would find holes in whatever story you had come up with.

“Now why would she do something like that?” His hand left yours, instead sliding around your waist and keeping you close to his side. It was a more intimate touch than the hand holding for sure. You found yourself relaxing into the touch though instead of tensing. It wasn’t like being pressed against him was new, you often fell asleep on him during drunk movie nights, but this was in public, in front of people that thought you were a couple.

“How did you two meet?”

“We are neighbors actually.” Negan started before you could. “She ended up having a fire, trying to grill something. I don’t even remember what at this point. I had to hop the fence to put the fucker out. Shared a couple of drinks and it went from there. She couldn’t resist my charms.” He winked down at you, and you swore you felt your cheeks heat up. That was easy enough, since he went with the event that started your friendship. It wasn’t what you had discussed but it was easier and more believable.

“Bit embarrassing but he seemed to find it endearing enough.” You finally found your voice and gave him a smile before looking back at the other two. Richard was easy about but Charles still didn’t look convinced. Warm lips met your cheek and you were definitely blushing now. Negan’s soft chuckle was close to your ear but the action just sold the story further.

“We have you giving your presentation after a small speech from Frank. Are you ready?” Richard was able to turn back to the matter at hand and you were grateful.

“Yeah, I have everything put together.” You reached into your purse and produced a USB drive. “Everything is on there.” He took the device from you.

“I’ll go get everything set up. I’m sure that it will be fantastic.” He didn’t need to remind you who was here. You could see several important faces in the crowd over his shoulder. All you had to do was give the presentation, eat, kiss some ass, and you and Negan could get out of there. You were left in an awkward position with Charles. He wasn’t walking off to mingle like he should have been. He was standing there, watching the two of you with a critical eye.

“Excuse us, but I think we both need a drink.” Instead of leaving you on your own with him, he pulled you along towards the small bar that had been set up.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Prick was begging for me to knock him the fuck out.” He grumbled right back before ordering you both something to ease the nerves.

“We shouldn’t have to put up with too much of him. Hopefully he will be kissing too much ass to get his project more funding. That is what normally happens here. After we eat, I have to do a little bit of the same and we can get out of here.”

“Whatever you gotta do. I got free booze and food out of it. I’m in it for the long haul.” He winked again as he handed you the cool glass. You wanted to guzzle it down but that would just cause more problems. You sipped it slowly, savoring the high end liquor.

“I’ll have to remember that for future events.” You found yourself teasing.

“I’m a cheap fucking date.” He sipped his drink before glancing around. “Who would have thought that science is all this shit?”

“Mainly this shit. Can’t happen without money. And most aren’t willing to give it up easily. Though I suppose it’s better than having to beg in front of a grant committee.”

“Shit, sounds like having to stand in front of the school board.” You laughed again.

“Yeah, I guess they are probably like one another. Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit.” He led you towards a table that seemed decently full, something that surprised you until you realized that Charles was hovering again. He was trying to find a spot that the man wouldn’t be able to join them at. It was a smart decision.

Negan pulled your chair out with a smile.

“Can have some manners when the moment calls for it.” He teased as you sat down. You would only get a few minutes before having to give your presentation. This was a way to relax though before that. Another sip of your drink and you ignored the fact that Charles was lingering.

“Color me shocked.” He made sure no one was looking as he flipped your off subtly. It brought another laugh from you and had him smiling. That was more like it. There were a few smiles sent in your direction but no one offered more conversation at the moment.

*********************************** The presentation had gone well enough and from the sounds of it, you had impressed several of the donors. All in all, it was a fairly successful night for you. Finally though, it was over and you were grateful. Negan had an arm around your shoulders as he led you out. It had started to rain so he paused at the entrance.

“Let me grab the car, doll. Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t mind walking in the rain Negan.”

“Just fucking wait.” He laughed a bit and moved out into the downpour. You shook your head, feeling the smile pulling at your lips despite trying to hold back.

“Impressive.” You tensed immediately at hearing Charles so close. “I am surprised that everyone bought the story.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

“What do you mean story?” You asked innocently, hoping that he would buy it. If tonight hadn’t worked though, the likelihood was low that he would buy anything now. You tightened your arms over your chest and hoped that he wouldn’t press too hard, or that someone would come up and save you from the conversation. It would be best if Negan appeared with the car.

“Don’t feed me that bullshit. There is no way that you two are actually dating.”

“And why is that Charles?” You asked, unable to hold back on some of the frustration that you were feeling. The whole point of this thing with Negan was to keep the man from talking to you or bugging you about this whole thing. You had thought that you had played the evening well.

“His eyes wandered half the evening. You two are friends at best. I mean the body language between the two of you screams friends but nothing more.” You could have started screaming. No one was coming to your rescue and Negan had yet to appear with the car. You were stuck dealing with this prick until one of those two things happened. You could step outside but if you made it to where you parked and Negan wasn’t there, it could cause trouble. Who knew if Charles would bother to leave it be even then. He could follow you outside and then you could be in real trouble. No, it was safer to stay where you were and wait it out the best that you could. “Come on Y/N, give it up. Why won’t you go out with me.”

“I don’t want to, Charles.” You replied firmly, though the hair on the back of your neck was beginning to stand up. A pit was forming in your gut as the man shifted closer before he had a hand on the small of your back and at your elbow. “Get off of me.”

“I just want to talk. Why don’t we head back?”

“Because I don’t want to. I thought that I made that clear enough. Get your hands off of me.” You squirmed and attempted to pull away but his hold just tightened. Your brain was screaming right now. You had to get away from him. No matter what. You could cause enough of a scene that he would have to let go of you.

Just as you were about to start screaming, Negan pulled and his smile dropped as soon as he saw the position that you were in. You were silently pleading for help, still trying to pull away from Charles.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” That was a tone that you weren’t used to hearing from Negan. He was pissed and he was marching right towards the both of you. If the situation had been different, maybe you would have been intimidated by the posture and the fire in his eyes. Right now, you were thankful that he was willing to intervene. “Get your fucking hands off of her right now.” He was standing next to you in the blink of an eye. He reached out, shoving Charles in the shoulder while his other hand gently encompassed your wrist and pulled you behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Charles responded, pissed that Negan had laid hands on him.

“Oh, can dish it out but can’t fucking take it huh? You don’t like it when someone lays hands on you without permission.” Negan snarled. “You don’t fucking touch a woman after she has said no. It’s a lesson you better fucking learn quick asshole. Or I’ll be glad to make sure you remember it for the rest of your life.” He stepped closer and you could see the tension in his shoulders. If you didn’t do something about it, there was going to be a full blown fight.

“You aren’t going to do anything.” You looked towards the ceiling, knowing that Charles was signing his own fate.

“Come on Negan, let’s just go, please.” You softly begged, hoping that it was enough to pull the man out of his anger. If you could just get him to focus on you long enough, maybe you could convince him to just leave it be and head home.

“You’re just a nobody and aren’t good enough for someone like Y/N. The only way you can get close is pretending to date her.” Charles goaded, not letting the subject rest, allowing you to pull Negan away. It was apparently the last bit of pushing that Negan needed. You watched his arm cock back and before you could do anything, the punch had landed. Charles stumbled back, blood already falling down his face. There was something satisfying about the whole incident. He had been such a thorn in your side for so long that seeing some justice served was overdue. That didn’t change the fact that you were still in the hotel and the scene had attracted plenty of attention.

“You might be right. I’m not fucking good enough. But at least I respect her and don’t force myself on Y/N unlike you. It’s no wonder that you can’t find a girl.” He rolled his shoulders and turned to look at you, looking apologetic. “Come on doll, let’s get out of here.” He wrapped an arm around you and ignored everyone that was closing in. He led you to the car, opening the door once more to let you in before running to his side of the car.

“Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry.” He huffed as he took off, not looking at you.

“There isn’t anything for you to be sorry about Negan.” You offered softly. Sure, he had made a scene and there would be fallout to deal with at work. You could handle that. “Thank you for putting him in his place.”

“I caused a fucking scene with your coworkers and who the fuck knows what the fuck is going to happen when you have to go back on Monday.” He shook his head before finally looking in your direction. “I wasn’t going to let him keep his hands on you when you were uncomfortable and clearly didn’t want it. No man has that right with a woman and I have no problem reminding them of it.” You reached out and squeezed his arm. It was more than anyone else had done. Everyone at work let him get away with the behavior, or just flat out didn’t see it.

“I can handle whatever fallout comes my way. That isn’t a problem.” You didn’t want him feeling bad about that, or worrying that he had just made you lose your job. Richard wasn’t going to fire you over that sort of incident. You hadn’t been the one to be physical. You were confident on that front. The rest of the drive was quiet, Negan seemingly not wanting to talk about it anymore. It wasn’t like you could push him for more so you let it be and played the events over again. In the rush of it all, hoping that Charles wouldn’t lash out in response, you had missed the fact that he had thought himself not good enough for you. That was far from the truth. He was an attractive man but you hadn’t let yourself think about it any more than the occasional passing thought. You were friends and you valued that. His interest in women always seemed to be passing anyway. That sort of behavior had been worked out of your system in college and you weren’t interested in warming a bed for a night every now and then. It would never work out between you two. Right?

#thranduilsperkybutt #megs11kchallenge #negan fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #Negan #Reader #my writing #my fic #fake dating trope #nervous about this one

34 notes · View notes

northsouth12 · 3 years

Text

How to actually do goals according to science

Every year I kind of sort of commit to some ~New Year’s Resolutions~ and every year I kind of sort of make progress on them. This year I was diagnosed with depression and that led to me doing a bunch of research on how brains work and working with a therapist (bless them) to learn how to be kinder to myself.

In 2021 I’m setting goals again, but also approaching my goal setting with a different, more compassionate, and more informed mindset. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of setting myself up for success and I wanted to put it out there a) because I learned public sharing helps with goal achievement and b) in case this information/plan could help anyone else. So if you are also tired of making aspirational lists of all the stuff you’re going to do with nothing to show for it, come on over!

PEOPLE WHO KNOW MORE THAN ME

For quick and easy learning, I recommend the following podcasts/websites, from where I have drawn most of this information:

(1). VOLITIONAL PSYCHOLOGY with Dr Joseph R Ferrari, Ologies podcast ( 1:05:56, transcript and notes on website). A podcast interview explaining what procrastination is and what we can do about it. Also be nice to yourself.

(2). FEAROLOGY with Mary Poffenroth, Ologies podcast (1:13:49, transcript and notes on website). A podcast interview explaining how stress is equivalent to fear and how to interrupt our body’s stress response to regain our health and sanity.

(3). “Golden Rules of Goal Setting” on MindTools.com. A website covering most of the actually scientifically backed goal setting advice without a lot of life coach BS.

(4). My therapist. Credit where credit is due, they are a godsend. I highly recommend these conductors of light.

BASICS OF GOAL ACHIEVEMENT

For people who hate reading, here are the spark notes. There’s more information and tips in the long version, but I understand that some people put together IKEA furniture without looking at the directions.

Use the SMART method to write goals:

Specific - well defined and clear how to accomplish

Measurable - precise definition of success

Attainable - doable but still challenging

Relevant - aligned with personal values

Time-bound - must have a deadline

Put goals in writing. Use “I will” rather than “I want to” and frame statements positively.

Write down why specifically you want to achieve each goal.

Make an action plan breaking goals into individual steps. Break tasks into smaller and smaller chunks until you get to a place you can make progress. No judgement, just move the bar until you can move forward.

Schedule regular check-ins to evaluate your progress.

Post goals and progress publicly.

Incentivize achievement.

Surround yourself with doers rather than (fellow) procrastinators.

ABOUT SUCCESS AND FAILURE

If you can achieve 80% of your goal, that is success. In fact, happiness peaks at 85% success and 15% failure. People feel happier failing a bit because then their goal feels challenging and worthwhile.

YOU WILL FAIL. It will happen. It is okay. Focus instead on how you will react and grow from your failure.

“Stress” and “fear” are effectively the same thing. Recognize and own your fear; don’t be ashamed of it. It is a natural response. Also, recognizing your stress as a fear response helps you determine the root cause, and then address it, or even use it as a growth opportunity. Successful people freely use the word “fear”.

For many procrastinators, their fear of failure also includes a fear of success. You are afraid to do the work because you are afraid of not being good enough. These people (me) are practicing “social esteem protection” - thinking that if I don’t finish a task, I can attribute it to a lack of effort rather than a lack of ability because it’s a “time management” issue. It’s not. Time management is a myth, and the end result is that you are letting down the same people you want so badly to like you.

Procrastination is a learned behavior, which means that you can unlearn it. The best way is through CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) to reprogram your thinking for people who have a persistent issue with procrastination.

Forgive yourself for your failures the way you would forgive other people.

HOW TO SET GOALS STEP-BY-STEP

Sorry this section is long, but it turns out a lot of the keys to success in achieving goals starts with actually writing them properly. Who knew?

Set a deadline. The traditional New Year’s Resolution is supposed to last through the end of the year, but I’ve found that is too long a span. I end up procrastinating because “there’s so much time left” until there’s not and then “it’s too late to start now”..... So now I’m setting my goals seasonally: four sets of three months. My deadline for winter goals is March 21st, the Spring Equinox. As part of my public accounting, I have told everyone this, including a bunch of internet strangers.

Also key for us procrastinators is setting a start date. I gave myself a week to write my goals and make my action plan. I have to keep track of my progress starting Monday.

Determine your priorities and set limits. You cannot do everything, no matter how much you want to (procrastinator, remember?). Looking for layout inspiration on Pinterest I came across so many bujo people with 8 million goals on their page layout. That’s not happening. Remember that your goals are meant to create positive change and a sense of accomplishment, NOT cause more anxiety. So make limits. How do we do this?

Make a big list of aspirations first. You can do this by identifying your personal values and generating ways to emphasize those more in your life. You can make a list of everything that you’re afraid of (aka causes you stress) and then think about ways to address or confront those fears. For example if getting a bunch of work emails into your personal inbox every weekend ruins your Saturday, aspire to set some work/personal life boundaries! Or maybe you have something you’ve always wanted to do, like learn a language or set time aside for a hobby. Put it on the list.

Now you have to edit the list. You can keep it to refer back to for the next round of goals, but choose out the top priorities for the next three months. To help you do this, refer back to your personal values, or just ask yourself “why do I want to do this?” If the answer is because someone else thinks you should, nix it. This is for you and only you. I originally chose 8 priorities, and then cut it again to 6 aspirations total - keep the plan simple and manageable to set yourself up for success. Remember, 85% success is what we’re aiming for. I also tried to choose a mix of difficulty levels of the individual aspirations (exercising = freaking hard; keeping a gratitude log = pretty easy) so that I might get some early wins and momentum.

I also recommend that at least one priority is just something you know will make you happy. We all need to set aside time and energy for ourselves, and to stop feeling ashamed about doing stuff that makes us happy. What the actual f**k. Choose one thing you love -- reading, baking, petting animals, being outside -- and make it an official goal to do it more often. NO JUDGMENT.

Okay, now to format your priorities into achievable goals. You are going to take each one of those aspirations and put it into an “I will” statement with a quantifiable definition of success. For example, my aspiration to “sleep more” became “I will follow a bedtime routine for 21 days straight.” You want to make sure your statement is framed positively (rather than “I will not eat junk food”, try “I will eat healthier snacks”). Also think again about making your goal challenging but achievable. I did not write “I will sleep 6 hours a night” because I can’t control that. I chose 21 days straight as my success measure because I anticipate I’ll fall off the horse a few times before I get a successful streak, and three weeks would be good progress for me. Another thing you can do is use ranges like “I will pick up 1 - 5 items in my room each day.” This is a bit of a mind game where the low end of the range is easily achievable so you have no excuse not to do it. Often once you get started, you might find that you have energy for 5 items after all.

Now that you have your goalposts set up, write down those “whys” you thought about when you were choosing them. Recording why you want to do this specifically is helpful for your motivation as time passes and further clarifies your goal.

As we’ve learned, accountability helps! For each of your goals, write down how you will share your progress. I’ve asked different people to check in with me about my sleep and exercise routines. I’m reporting about my ongoing issues with procrastinating on my schoolwork to my therapist each week. For my goal to read more books, I’m posting a picture of each book I finish on my Instagram. And for my goals to keep a gratitude log and consume news in a healthier way, I’ve decided I can hold myself accountable. In addition, I’m using my journal to keep track of my progress towards all six goals.

Set a reward for each goal. This could be anything from a pack of your favorite chocolates for completing an easy goal to giving yourself permission to buy that sweater you’ve really wanted for achieving a super challenging goal. I am also trying out having bonus rewards such as a small reward for an 11-day streak on my sleep goal to give me a push of momentum. For my hardest/most important goal I also decided to do a “stretch goal” like with Kickstarter where I get a reward for overachieving. So maybe I went a little reward crazy, but we’ll see how it goes!

Finally, for each goal write down the actions you’ll need to take to achieve it. For me this is stuff like “draft a bedtime routine and share it” and under that, I plan to research by “listen to somnology podcasts” and “read sleep solution book”.

HOW TO MAKE PROGRESS

Whew, you made it through writing the goals and now you are set up for success! Here’s a few more tips to keep things moving.

Now that you’ve got your goals all set up, share them with the world! (Or at least the people you’ve decided to help keep you accountable). Sharing goals and progress publicly is proven to increase our likelihood to achieve them.

If you’re a journaler, make a nice goals layout and a tracker for your progress. I did not find good examples for achieving goals in a scientific way when I looked for inspiration on Pinterest. If there is a journaler out there who read all the way to the end of this post and made a nice layout, please share your artistry. My “layout” is just a list. :/

Surround yourself with doers. If you have trouble motivating yourself (me), ask a friend to pair up with you. I am doing a remote master’s degree. It is not going well. However, setting up a regular Zoom “work date” with a friend who is currently working from home has forced me to sit down and look at my schoolwork on a regular basis.

Schedule regular check ins to evaluate your progress and write them down! I have a combination of check-ins with my “accountants” as well as a plan to review my goal progress every Sunday when I plan my week. This is written on my to-do list on each Sunday to make sure I do it.

Go forth and conquer! And remember, failure is a fact of life and does not make you a bad person. It just means you are learning more about how to set your goals for next time!

#goals #2021 goals #new years resolutions #goal setting #goal achievement #science

3 notes · View notes

confusedweasleys · 5 years

Text

Our Little Game - George Weasley x Reader

A/N: Hi loves! I’m back! I’ve had soo much school work, but I had fun writing this one for you guys! Some qs: Are you tired of these types of fics? Do you want some already dating fluff? Enemies to lovers? Let me know what kind of fic you want in the request! I love you guys and always leave feedback if you want!!

Request: @rubinstein1798: 16 and 17 from fluffy prompt list with George?

Prompt: “I dare you” (#16), Is that a challenge? (#17)

Triggers: Cursing, Drinking

Word Count: 1,534———————————————————————————————————

I was having a great time. It wasn't like I didn't party often, or that this party was particularly amazing, but O.W.L.s were over, I was stress-free, and I was having a great time.

And honestly, the party was pretty great. There was a huge, blazing bonfire on the sand a few feet away from me, charmed to burn different colors. Students from all houses danced around it, feeling spectacularly light with the stress of final exams lifted. Music played from seemingly everywhere, likely the work of Lee Jordan's superior charms skills. Even better, bewitched shots of Firewhiskey floated through the air around the party. Grinning, I snatched one out of the air and downed it in one motion.

“Feeling thirsty are we?” I heard someone ask me. Attempting to wipe the smile off my face, I turned around to face George Weasley. George and I had a - well - complicated relationship. To say the least. We flirted, we fought, then we went back to being friends - and pretty close friends at that. We were at the friends stage.

“You know, I think I am,” I said, smirking. I jumped in the air and grabbed another floating shot. George snorted as he watched me. “What? I asked, turning to the red-head. “Got something to say?”

“No, not a word,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Just that you might want to pace yourself if you're gonna make it through tonight.” I rolled my eyes and huffed, stalking off in the direction of the Black Lake. He ran after me, walking by my side after catching up. “Where are you going?” he said, laughing.

“Right here,” I said, plopping down in front of the water and laying on my back.

“Come on back,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling.

“Nope,” I said, fighting as he tried to pull me up. He gripped my hand strongly and pulled again.

"Please?" he said, flashing me puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes as his face brightened. “On one condition,” I added, smirking.

“And what might that be?” he asked, confused. I laughed and pulled him back to the bonfire, weaving through other students. When we reached the center, I plucked two glasses of Firewhiskey out of the air, handing one to George.

“We are going shot for shot,” I announced.

“Are you sure that's such a good idea?” he said, laughing at my already tipsy state.

“What are you, scared? I fired back, quirking an eyebrow. I watched as his competitive side came out.

“Is that a challenge? he said.

“Well yeah,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “I thought that was obvious.” George rolled his eyes as I watched him give in.

“Alright fine. But then you have to jump in the Black Lake,” he said. His eyes glinted mischievously.

“Hell no,” I said. “I don't care if it’s Spring. That lake is still fucking freezing. Besides, this was my condition.”

“Oh come on. I dare you,” he said, smirking, knowing I could never resist them temptation of a dare. “Well then it looks like I've won this game rather quickly,” George said, shrugging his shoulders. I flashed him a look of pure hatred, before turning away without a word. I walked through the crowd without looking back. I stopped at the bank of the lake, peeling of my tight shirt and leaving myself in my bra and muggle jeans. I dove into the lake without hesitation. Fuck that was cold. I came up sputtering and quickly bounded out of the lake and back to the middle of the bonfire, where it was warm. A large number of people clapped and whistled, excited at the first event of the night. I shot George a smug look.

“You really thought it would be that easy? I asked, giving him a challenging look. I locked eyes with him as I downed another shot. I gestured to him and George shook his head as he took his shot. “I dare you to take off your underwear and charm it to float over the bonfire.”

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N?” he said, looking at me in disbelief.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “After what you had me do, I'm letting you off easy.” He rolled his eyes. “I dare you,” I taunted. He sighed and got up to go take off his boxers.

A few minutes later, I started to giggle uncontrollably as I watched a pair of niffler-covered boxers rise above the bonfire. Others noticed too, and soon the party had stopped so people could laugh and speculate as to who's boxers were floating in the air. George grumpily returned to our spot. I laughed at his expression. “Nifflers George, really?” I started laughing again.

“They're my favorite magical creature!” he said defensively as he took his shot. I took mine right as he said, “I dare you to jinx the last person you kissed.” I nearly spit out the Firewhiskey. I laughed.

“So this is how it's gonna be tonight?” I strode over to Seamus and slyly cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx. It was harmless, really. Honestly, it just gave one the impression that Seamus was a very bad dancer. I made my way back to George, who seemed annoyed.

“Really Y/N? Finnegan?

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘p.’ He rolled his eyes and drank his shot. I was well past tipsy now, but I was never one to back down from a challenge. I drank my shot and prepared my dare. “Weasley, I dare you…”

And that was how our little game continued for a long time. George would dare me, and we would both take a shot; then, I would dare him and we would both take a shot, and so on. After about an hour of this, I had taken a shot in my animagus form (a hummingbird), let Dean Thomas pierce my ear, been jinxed to have a purple tongue, sat on Lee Jordan's lap, drank a bottle of Skele-Gro, and kissed Zachary Smith. George, on the other hand, had gotten his legs shaved, publicly (and loudly) declared his love for Lavender Brown, dyed a strand of his hair bright blue, apparated to the middle of the Black Lake, made out with a piece of driftwood, and kissed Pavarti Patail. We were pretty much the main source of entertainment, since most of the party-goers had come to watch our little game over the course of the hour. They shouted out suggestions as I contemplated George’s next dare.

"Make him jump over the fire!"

"Have him tell us who he likes!"

"Jinx him!"

“Alright Georgie,” I started. “I dare you to go...and to do - well," I stopped, struggling to get out a coherent sentence. After all, we'd been playing shot-for-shot for more than an hour. We were both well past extremely drunk.

"Aaand that's the end of this game ladies and gents,” Fred shouted, swooping in front of George and I. He shooed the party-goes away, watching them scatter back around the beach, looking for another form of entertainment.

“Booooo!” George and I chorused. We fell over giggling at Fred’s stern face, rolling around on the sand.

“The game is not over Fred!” I exclaimed.

“Come on Freddie there's no winner yet,” said George, pouting.

“You guys can't even get a sentence out to give each other a dare,” he said, his strict facade crumbling as he laughed down at the two of us in our drunken state. We had fallen to the ground again after picking ourselves back up, and were slumped over each other on the sand.

"Fine" I huffed. "But you need to pick a winner."

"And it will be me,” George said. "There no way i'm losing to this," he said, tapping my head, which rested on his shoulder. Fred rolled his eyes down at us.

"Fine," he said. “George, I dare you to say who you think is the prettiest girl at this party.” George rolled his eyes at his twin.

“No can do Gred because she's sitting right next to me.” I felt my heart deflate a little bit. Who was sitting right next to him? Fred rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, I dare you say the name of the boy you’ve fancied for a year.” I rolled my eyes to hide my panic.

“Shhh Fred he's right here!” I whisper-shouted, gesturing towards George, whose shoulder I still rested my head on. Fred groaned.

“You two are hopeless. Alright, let me make this even easier for you guys. I dare both of you to kiss your crush. Who ever does that first wins. Got it?” He rolled his eyes one more time, and walked away. George looked at me gleefully. I'm gonna win he said, before smashing his lips onto mine. I pulled away triumphantly, only to inform him that I had just won our little game. “No, I just won,” said George, shaking his head fervently. For the rest of the night, we alternated between making out and arguing about who had won our little game. We didn’t realize until the next morning (when we woke up in his dorm together) that technically, we both won.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #georgeweasleyimagine #george weasley oneshot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter #imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #weasley imagine #confusedweasleys

289 notes · View notes

imagine-that-one-thing · 4 years

Text

Chapter One.

❅ ❅ ❅

The Rise Of Glory. || Let’s Not Go Back.

FlashBack. || August 26th.

I relax on the bed with the pillows behind my back and the soft blanket draped over my legs, my eyes desiring to close and rest but I force myself to keep them open. Sleeping lately has been a challenge for both Harry and me, he tosses and turns most of the night and crawls out from under the sheets by three A.M, leaving me with a cold and empty bed. You’d think by now that I’d be used to it, but the cold emptiness never fails to crawl in on me and make me feel that bitter sense of loneliness.

“And you’re going to be okay here by yourself?” Harry challenges as he stands at the edge of the bed with his travel bag on the bed.

The bag has only managed to stay packed away for a whole fifteen days; I knew this was going to be an issue, the second we finally settled here in New York, something would happen and we would have to fly back to London. I knew we would be flying back and forth quite a bit, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.

I nod my head as reassurance, “Yes, I’ll be fine, surprisingly I can take care of a business, I do run Meyer Enterprise and you didn’t give me CAO just for my good looks.” I assure Harry that the NYC business will be perfectly fine under my care for the few days that he has to be in London. After all, I did run Styles & Co for quite some time after his accident.

Oh, how they were some rough times.

Harry rolls his eyes playfully and throws a shirt into his bag, “I gave you the position just because you’re my wife, absolutely had nothing to do with your skills.” Harry offers me his twisted smile that is laced with nothing but sarcasm.

“Mhm, I wouldn’t be surprised,” I chuckle, “Don’t forget your passport in the safe.” I gesture towards the wardrobe where the safe is, reminding Harry of the one item that I know he’d forget. There have been a few times he has gotten to the airport in a rush, only to have left his passport behind. The man would lose his mind if it wasn’t inside his head, sometimes I think he wishes he could lose his mind for a few days.

“I won’t,” Harry responds. “No, but are you going to be okay here? Anastasia agreed to be the fill-in assistant here since I don’t need her in London while I’m there. She will be here by morning.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine. You just worry about your meetings in London,” I assure Harry.

Harry lets out a heavy breath and nods, “can’t help but worry, you know that,” Harry murmurs with a slight smile as he glances over at me.

It has always been in his nature to worry about those he cares about, I’ve watched him worry about his mother and sister from when we first started to date, many years ago, and now his worry has essentially turned towards me and Alexander. I don’t think this man knows what it’s like to live a day without worrying about something or someone.

“I know, but the more you worry the more stress lines you’ll have,” I chuckle softly, looking him up and down as he forces an article of clothing into his bag.

Harry rolls his eyes, “These frown lines and stress lines have been here since I was eighteen,” Harry responds, “or it’s old age setting in, probably the old age.”

“You’re not that old, hush,” I shake my head.

“I’m thirty, definitely not twenty-one anymore, that’s for sure. When did we get old?” Harry questions in a teasing manner.

“We~ did not get old,” I shake my head, “Speak for yourself,” I chuckle playfully, but my petite grin slowly turns to a slight grimace.

Harry’s eyes narrow down on me, “You okay?” Harry challenges, his lips pursed into a fine line as he awaits my response— a response he already knows the answer to.

“Yeah,” I nod, not drawing any attention to myself, lower back pain is normal, although, I wish it wasn’t. “Just fine, no need to worry,” I assure Harry with a small smile.

Harry sighs and places another shirt into his duffel bag, “I can stay if you—“

I shake my head instantly, already aware of what’s going to come out of his mouth, “Harry,” I swiftly cut him off. “I am fine, it’s normal. The longer you put off going to London and fixing the mess, the longer you’ll end up gone and away from here.”

“You sure?”

“It’s not the first time you’ve left me alone for business, darling.”

“I know,” Harry nods, “I just— I don’t know, I don’t want to be in London while you’re here in New York. It’s different for us.”

“Well, this is how it has to be, Harry. This is what you signed up for when you wanted to merge the company to New York.”

Harry grows quiet for a minute and breaks eye contact with me. I can’t say that I’m fully on board with living in New York, I don’t think I’ll ever feel as though this is home, but this is what has been decided for us, as a family. Whether Harry likes it or not, this is the decision HE made, he wanted to move to New York and, unfortunately, he can’t have things both ways. He can’t have me in London and New York just to satisfy his needs.

“Harry, this is what you wanted, you wanted us to live here, I can’t just fly back to London,” I comment, adjusting my tone of voice and doing my best to avoid sounding bitter.

“Yes, you can. Come to London with me, you can make sure Meyer enterprise is running ideally, while I fix my,” Harry stops, “Our,” He corrects himself, “Our company.”

I shake my head, not liking the idea of flying back to London. “No, I don’t have the energy to be running through airports, someone needs to be here to make sure everything runs smoothly, we have documents to keep sorting through and I have to keep on top of my half of the staff. It’ll be easier on me if you go,” I hold my ground, refusing to give in.

To be honest, if I have to go back to London, the chances of me coming back to New York right now is… slim to none. I have no intention of putting myself through more of a confused spiral just because he feels guilty for leaving me in New York for a few days.

Business is business, this was all his decision.

He will have to reap what he has sown.

Harry lets out a breath, “It won’t be like this forever, you know that, right?” … “Elle, living here isn’t permanent, once everything is up and running we can go back to London, we’ve discussed this.”

I glance at Harry, attempting to figure out whom he’s trying to convince more, me or him. “Harry, it’s going to take time for everything to be running the way it needs to be, can we please drop this conversation before it turns into an argument? Go to London, I’ll stay here, it’ll all be fine.”

Harry purses his lips into a fine line, and I can tell by the way his brows are furrowing that he doesn’t want to drop the conversation, he never really does, he always likes to have the last say, and he only drops conversations when he’s done speaking. To my surprise, Harry nods his head in agreement, and he doesn’t proceed to go further with the conversation, instead, he goes back to packing his bag, leaving the two of us in silence.

Silence can be a deadly game sometimes, it’s a fine line between not having anything else to say or just outright ignoring the other person in retaliation to having too much to say.

Harry hates silence, he always has, and so do I when it comes to the deadly silence within our relationship, but right now, I’m unsure whether the silence is out of respect for not wanting to continue the conversation or out of retaliation.

I continue to watch Harry and his silhouette moving gracefully around the bedroom, even during silence, there’s something somewhat calming about watching him move around the bedroom. Unlike some, he’s relatively light on his feet and doesn’t make much noise as he’s trying to gather his clothes and what he needs. Then again, he’s had so much practice of years of getting dressed quietly and in the dark, it’s second nature for him to be quiet and unobtrusive.

I heavily sigh and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, forcing myself to my feet. I walk over towards him and press my hand to his arm as he places another shirt into his bag. He glances at my hand on his arm before he turns to me, "I love you." My words are simple but meaningful, sometimes all it takes is the reassurance of the love between us to keep us going and to eliminate the deadly silence.

His lips curve up into a small smile and his eyes soften, "I love you, too." He responds before he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for one of his tender hugs. I rest my cheek on his chest and take a deep breath feeling secure and relaxed.

"It'll all be okay, Elise."

"I know," I respond.

I know it will all be okay in the end, it is just getting to the point of things being okay that is difficult. I want things to settle down and for things to be okay now.

I pull away from his embrace, "Do you want me to come to the airport?" I offer, unsure of whether he wants the company or not.

Harry shakes his head, "It is late, you get some sleep, I'm going to start on writing up the reports when I get to the airport."

"Oh," I sound, somewhat disappointed that he doesn't want me to go with him.

"If you really want to, you can, love. I thought you would prefer to relax," Harry swiftly changes his response, noticing my slight disappointment.

The Next Day. - August 27th, 2024.

I walk down hallways, peering into various conference rooms’ making sure that everything is running smoothly, and to my surprise, everything is on track… for now. I’m aware at any given times this is subject to change, whether the company here in New York takes a turn for the worst or Meyer Enterprises decides to throw me for a loop and cause me chaos.

I glance over towards Anastasia as she remains at the desk closest to Harry’s office, and I can’t help but smile to myself. It feels nice to have something/someone who seems familiar and reminds me of home. I can’t deny the fact that I wish Anastasia could work with us in New York, but I can’t selfishly spring that on her and Niall, even if it would make me feel better and give me peace of mind.

I walk closer to Anastasia and I place a file from my meeting on her desk, she gazes up at me with her typical vivacious eyes and dainty smile— I swear this woman is always smiling— but something seems different. “Will you please fax these to Harry so he can sign them?” I politely challenge and she nods her head, taking the file between the tips of her fingers. I cock my head to the side and narrow my eyes on her, curious as to what’s running through that mind of hers. “Do I want to ask what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, “Nothing, why?”

“You have this look… I’ve worked with you for too long to not know something is up… spill.”

She stares down at her desk for a moment and lets out a sigh before looking back up at me, “It’s really silly.”

“I have a three-year-old who does silly things all the time, it won’t phase me.”

“Well… Niall is playing golf.”

I nod, unsure of what the problem is, he always plays golf when he has spare time. “Mhm,” she hums, “On the business’ dime.”

“Yes, he does deals sometimes on the golf course,” I nod, “Harry would do more deals on a golf course if he did ruin his back. Used to always do deals on the course.”

“Elise… it’s a woman he’s doing a deal with.”

I grow quiet for a moment, and I raise a brow towards Anastasia, “Oh… I see what the problem is,” I chuckle, “You think she’s prancing around in a short golfing skirt, pretending like she can’t play golf while the men gawk?”

“That doesn’t make me feel better…” she trails off and I playfully roll my eyes. “I don’t know how you never feel insecure when Harry has women all around him at events.”

“Most of them are wives of other businessmen,” I shrug, “We all get insecure sometimes, but you have a ring on your finger, he loves you. Plus,” I trail off, “The woman he’s meeting is trying to do a business deal without her husband knowing, that’s why they’re at a golf course, it’s off her husband's radar. Revised contracts and portfolios make for a surprise present for husbands these days.”

“So… I have nothing to worry about?”

“Not unless the woman is wanting to give Niall the portfolio as a gift, no,” I shake my head, “Just a few more days and you get to go back home to Niall, hang in there,” I smile at her, “don’t forget to fax those,” I gesture towards the file as my phone begins to vibrate and sound.

Anastasia nods silently and I answer my phone, making my way to Harry’s office.

“Hey, I’m sorry we’ve been playing phone tag all morning, how’s the company?” Harry asks on the other end of the phone while I sit in his office, drawing the pen between my fingers to tap it against the desk.

“They’re good, things are going smoother than I expected. How are things over there?”

“It’s a shit show, Elle. Good thing I came back when I did. Mum called, I am going to head up there when I get done with this shit here and pick up Alex and bring him home with me.”

“Oh, so we finally get to be a family again,” I mutter, somewhat feeling bitter towards Harry for his decision to move and get everything settled before bringing Alex over; I would have preferred if we were all here together earlier. Two weeks without Alex around has been a hard two weeks.

Harry grows quiet on the other end of the line, and for a split second, I feel guilty for my comment, mainly because I thought I was over the resentment of moving here. I am not.

Harry clears his throat in an attempt to buy him some time to find the right words to say to my bitter comment. In my defence, I wasn’t trying to be harsh or to bring up old problems, the words just slipped out of my mouth, but I will not apologise for them. “Hm, well with the meeting you have in an hour, I sent you a brief outline of some things,” Harry begins and I heavily sigh as I prop my right elbow on the desk with my phone still to my ear, and I drop my left hand to rest on my stomach comfortably. “I know you’re tired of my briefings, but just listen for a moment, love, I promise this one is different,” Harry continues his speech on the meeting that I am filling in for.

I do my best to listen to his words, but I can’t help but allow my mind to wander, the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach distracting me with each moment that passes by. “Elle, are you listening?” Harry takes my attention and I hum my response, “You seem… Distracted.”

“Promise, I was listening,” I wrongfully assure him; I was only half-listening, but that still counts, right?

Harry hums that unconvinced hum of his, “how are you? And I’m not asking about the CAO, I’m asking about my wife, how’s my wife?” Harry asks with his sweet-sounding voice, deciding to take a break from being a CEO who insists on going over the documents for the meetings.

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“I’m not too convinced, what’s the matter?” Harry questions and I pause for a moment, hearing someone else on the other end in Harry’s office, “No, give me ten minutes, I am busy,” Harry murmurs to whom I can only assume is one of the staff members, “Sorry, Elle, now, what’s the matter?” Harry again asks, once again giving me his full attention as the line goes quiet on his end.

For a moment, I hope that someone else wanders in and interrupts the phone call, mainly because I don’t feel like having this conversation with him. I know how he is, he can be relentless when it comes to certain things, and when he isn’t convinced with something I have said, usually because he knows better, he is like a dog with a bone.

“I’m starting to feel… unwell.” I inform him.

“Morning sickness?” Harry questions, jumping straight to what would be the typical answer.

I’m not sure what it is; what I do know is that I want to be home and in London where I’m comfortable. I want to be able to walk through the front door of our home and feel at peace and at ease, instead, I have to walk through the front door of our penthouse and pretend to feel at home.

“I’m not sure, perhaps,” I shrug my shoulders, despite the fact he can’t see me. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, how are you?” I ask.

“Well, go home.” Harry disregards me asking how he is. He does this often, I can only assume he’s too stressed to think about how he is and doesn’t want to tell me that he’s exhausted and at his limits with his stress levels.

“I can’t, I can’t just hop on a flight. At least not until the meetings are over.”

I overhear Harry groan on the other end of the phone before he speaks, “Elle… we’ve been through this, please don’t make me feel guilty… I mean to go home as in go to our home in New York.”

No matter how many times Harry refers to our penthouse as ‘home’ it will never fully feel like home. Home is London, it always has been and it always will be. I’ll be glad when everything settles down fully with his new business and we can go back to London and run the new business from Styles & Co headquarters.

“I have meetings still, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re unwell, go rest.”

“There is no need for me to leave, the business can’t run itself, this isn’t my first rodeo either, Harry. A lot needs to be done before I can even think of leaving and going home.” I murmur, quite annoyed he even thinks that I can get up and leave.

We might be the owners of the damn company but it doesn’t mean this business can run on its own while I get some sleep and while he fixes the problems in London.

“Take it easy, Elise. I need to get to my meetings, call me when you’re finished and heading home, okay?”

It’s easy for him to say, he’s not the one with piles of documents that need signing, budgets that need looking over and a pile of proposal drafts to read and look over before different sections of the company go ahead with them. I have to oversee the proposals our teams are coming up with to determine whether we need better staff. Merging companies and finding a happy medium is a damn bitch. “It won’t be until late, but okay,” I agree with a small sigh, wishing the papers on my desk would magically burst into flames or at the very least, disappear.

“I love you, Elise.”

“I love you, goodbye,” I swiftly respond before I hang up the phone and settle it down on my desk.

❅ ❅ ❅

I sit in the conference room alone with papers scattered across the table, all of which were signed in the last meeting, but I can’t muster up the energy to properly place them into files for Harry. I’ve said this multiple times over the years but I still have no idea how the hell he manages to do so much in just one day.

My energy levels don’t seem to last as long as they did, at least that’s how it has felt this week. Things have worn me out the last week. I haven’t made it home before ten, there’s so much that needs to be reviewed and done that I can barely keep up with everything. I didn’t expect things to be easy with Harry gone but I didn’t expect things to be this… tough. I feel exhausted.

Today, I’ve survived three meetings and I feel like I’ve run three marathons instead. For Harry, three meetings are nothing, there have been days I’ve seen him have at the very least five, back to back with no break, I have no clue how he manages or how he doesn’t lose his mind completely. Then again, he is stressed and tensed most of the time so it makes up for him keeping his sanity… somewhat.

I lean back in the chair and close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as I feel the same tug in the pit of my stomach, followed by swirling nausea that I am struggling to kick. The last thing I need while Harry’s gone is to be under the weather, I have a responsibility to maintain everything at the headquarters here in New York, and I can’t do that while at home.

Anastasia steps into the conference room with her usual gentle smile and radiant blue eyes, “Hey, your next meeting is in a few minutes.” She informs me tenderly.

“Anastasia,” I breathe out with a sigh, “Can you push it back a few more minutes?”

“How long do you need?” She questions, shifting a few strands of hair behind her ear and waiting for my response.

“Any chance you can push it to tomorrow morning?” I request, hoping I can take myself home and crawl into bed instead of going through with the next meeting, but I know that’s unlikely.

Anastasia thinks for a moment and lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “That’s Harry’s decision unless you can give me the authority to push it to tomorrow on your behalf…” Anastasia trails off, uncertain of what to do.

I glance at my watch and sigh, “He should be awake still, I’ll call Harry and he can deal with it,” I inform Anastasia, “you can go to the hotel when you’re ready, you’ve done enough for the evening,” I continue, taking note of how she has done enough work for the day, I know she’s presumably just as exhausted as I am. She isn’t just an assistant, she handles a lot of other elements, to be honest, she handles some of the shit neither Harry nor I want to have to manage.

Anastasia nods, “Harry asked me to stay until you leave.”

“Anastasia, that’s sweet, but it’ll be a while before I leave, I still have paperwork to sort through, I probably won’t make it home tonight,” I inform her, gesturing towards the files sitting in the conference room that demands my attention. “I’ll call Harry and handle the last meeting, go home and tell the rest of the staff here to go home, we don’t all need to overwork ourselves,” I instruct pleasantly, gesturing towards the door as I reach for my phone and call Harry.

It rings a couple of times, and for a moment, I assume he’s asleep and not going to answer, after all, it is around 1 am for him, “Hello?” Harry answers, his tone of voice sounding frustrated.

“Hey, do you want me to call back later?” I offer, well aware that he’s presumably reading over a clients portfolio and attempting to make last-minute adjustments.

“No, I just got into my office. How’d your meeting go? Shouldn’t you be in one?”

“That’s what I’m calling you about. Why are you at the office, it is one in the morning?”

“Did it go downhill? No rest for the wicked.”

“No, it went well…” I trail off, unsure of what to tell him. The previous meeting went splendidly, the client signed everything, everything went smoothly, I just need to sign more paperwork, fax them to Harry to sign off on, and everything is established. The only dilemma I have is my next meeting. “Harry, I can’t do the next meeting. I need to reschedule.”

“Sweetheart, the client is a potential multi-million dollar deal, they won’t just reschedule at the last minute. It doesn’t work like that with them.” Harry informs me as I hear shuffling on his end of the phone.

I pause for a moment and contemplate what to do, swiftly losing myself in my world before Harry’s voice brings me back, “Elle? Are you there?”

“Yes,” I promptly answer, “I’m here… can you call them and at least try and reschedule? I know you’re busy.”

I hear Harry sigh on the other end of the phone and I can only assume he’s running his fingers through his hair out of frustration and due to being inconvenienced. “I’ll see what I can do. I know you’re tired but we need this one, Elle.”

“Harry—“ I begin but I stop and clear my throat, buying myself a moment to breathe and not become frustrated.

“It’s okay,” Harry assures me, “I will reschedule the meeting, I shouldn’t put the pressure on you. If you can’t do the meeting then that’s all there is to it.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money they’re dangling over us.” I can’t help but feel guilty for wanting to reschedule for tomorrow, this offer is one of the best things to have walked our way since starting up New York, we need a high-grade client file to add to the vault.

“Sweetheart, do you feel like you can handle the meeting right now?” Harry softly questions, genuinely inquiring as my husband and not as the CEO who knows how significant this meeting is to the company here.

I go withdrawn for a moment, debating whether to lie or tell the truth. Part of me wishes he didn’t leave me in charge of the high profile clients and these meetings. I wasn’t the one who wanted to branch the company, it was him, but I can’t just leave him in the lurch; I have to support Harry, even if it means fighting off feeling ill and god knows what else before the next meeting. “No, but I don’t—“

“Then it’s okay,” Harry cuts me off, “I’ll see what I can do, I’ll call you back.” And like that, the line goes dead and I am left unsure of what I am meant to do.

I take a moment to relax in the chair and to finally breathe without the thought of having another meeting or a stack of files to sort through.

Growing up, I always saw my mother handle the business world with such grace, her and my father always resembled like the power couple. She constantly had a smile on her face at business events and was perpetually more than delighted to host events at the house, fly across the country with Dad, and I never once saw them argue about the fact that he spent most of his time jet-setting around. I don’t know how she did it, I don’t know how she held everything together, a family, a love life, and my father’s business. I, for one, regret my decisions of getting into the business world, I wish I had of stayed out of it as I had intended, but my Father and my Uncle had other intentions and always thought the business world was for me.

They were wrong, the business world is not for me, I don’t want to be wrapped up in it anymore; I would much prefer to be wrapped up in a blanket, sipping on some warm tea without the stress and worries of everything.

I’d also prefer if I had my mother’s grace to handle everything, but I don’t. As much as I joke around with the thought of being a stay at home wife/mum, I know I wouldn’t be able to manage. I have gotten so used to the constant routine of working that I know no better; I have been corrupted by Harry.

My phone rings and I lean over and answer the phone, "Hey, darling, I have the meeting moved to the morning, get yourself some sleep," Harry instructs as I catch rustling in the background as if he is trying to hurriedly gather things. I can only assume he is trying to gather his papers. "I'll call you at a decent hour, goodnight, I love you."

"I love you, too," I respond and the line goes dead.

I step out of the office and close the door behind me, taking it upon myself to listen to Harry and to go home. In the last few years with working in the business field, I have come to realise that one can spend hours pouring their energy into paperwork and files, but at the end of the day, burning yourself out will only lead to more devastation. I have seen Harry burn himself out so many times and I know I can’t allow myself to do the same, I don’t need to destruct.

I walk down the quiet hallway and smile towards Mr Seattle. “You’re working late,” I comment as we stop in front of each other.

I don’t get to cross paths with this man too often, most of the time we cross paths while hurrying to different parts of the building, he is a little bit like Niall in a sense I don’t need to babysit him like I do some of the other crew, I can let him roam free and he does his job and he does it damn well.

“Yeah, I have a few things to get done.”

“Make sure to turn the lights off and nobody else is to be on this floor,” I instruct firmly.

Not many people are allowed to have access to the floor Harry's office is on after hours, we do our best to lock down the floor once we leave. Ever since the night Harry’s father caused havoc on the building and our lives, everything has been even tighter with security. Everything is monitored, not a single person gets in this building without going through a checkpoint down in the lobby, any red flag that is raised is immediately taken care of and alerted to us. It is both a blessing and a pain in the ass, even I have to go through the checkpoint in the lobby from the hours the building is operating with clients coming in and out.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, “Harry is aware I’ll be staying late and notified security.”

“Okay. Well, Mr Seattle, I will see you bright and early tomorrow.”

He laughs, “You still don’t remember my name, do you?” He questions and I can’t help but offer him a sweet smile.

I have a lot on my mind, remembering names’ is not at the top of my priority list, I am lucky that I remember my own name half the time. Unfortunately, my name is hard to forget when I hear it being called at least twenty times an hour. There is always someone who needs my attention or help.

“Look, I’ve had to learn over one hundred new names, all of which I still get wrong. Mr Seattle has a ring to it, has ever since I met you.”

He shakes his head with a small chuckle, amused by my comment, “After all this time you still can’t remember my name.”

“Mmm. David, right?”

“No.”

“Daren?”

“Not even close,” he chuckles.

“I sign your paycheck, it’s Mr Seattle.”

“It’s Daniel,” he chuckles, “but I’m just pulling your leg, I don’t care that you don’t remember my name, as long as my paycheck is signed and I do my job well, that’s all that matters.”

I nod my head in agreement, “Exactly. Be careful, be safe, you know how to call security and with that being said, I’ll let you get to work.” I politely end the small banter, eager to get home and to get in bed.

❅ ❅ ❅

The Next Day.

After I got off the phone with Harry last night, I was meant to go home, crawl in bed and have a good night's rest, that isn’t what happened. I didn’t even get halfway back to the penthouse before I got the call. A call that most business owners dread; mandatory board meeting. Ever since Harry’s business’ downfall of 2021 where the board forced him to take a leave of absence to audit the business and appoint an interim CEO, Harry made it his mission to get in the good graces of the board and make sure he, Niall, and I all obtained seats on the board. He won. We are all on the board and it serves as both good and bad. I hate board meetings, they can be long, tedious and boring. I leave everything up to Harry to decide, the only reason I am on the board is that I am the CAO and I own that one percent extra share than Harry which gives me the upper hand with decisions. He gave me that share not only to prove to me he wanted me as part of the business and to make it ours, but because if anything was to happen again, I would have overall power no matter who the interim CEO was.

Unfortunately, this meeting is out of the blue and deemed necessary for all to attend. Here’s the problem, the CEO isn’t in New York to attend a meeting about ‘Securing board approval for the overall administrative costs.’ The CEO is ultimately responsible for management and all reporting and review should be centralized through Harry— Harry needs to be the one to oversee the costs, but I will have to do it, which only meant one thing, I had to write up the figures. I had to stay up all night making sure everything was in check for the meeting. If the board ever suspect that we are not in tip-top shape, they will intervene and breathe down our necks. The last thing we need while juggling everything is to have the board of directors breathing down our backs and watching our every move.

I sit in my office, buried deep in paperwork trying to figure out how I am going to show the board everything that they need to see. I would prefer if we didn’t have a board to have to account to, I don’t see why we still have a damn board of directors, Harry and I are soul shareowners at this point, we don’t need anyone else apart of our decisions. I wish he would cut them out and take full control of his business.

I scribble down more figures and groan as I mentally wish Harry was sitting here doing this and not me, I should be in bed sleeping.

My attention is taken away from my work as I notice the hallway lights flick on, my hand reaches for the security button under my desk but I settle my sudden nerves when I see the familiar head of hair and broad shoulders at my door.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Harry as see him opening my door and closing it behind him.

“You don’t seem too thrilled to see me.”

I shake my head and give him a weary smile, “I just— I thought you were in London… it’s five in the morning, I— I just didn’t expect you,” I comment as I stand up and wander around my desk to welcome him with a hug. “Almost called security on you.”

“Got on the first flight so I could take the meetings for you. Just wanted to surprise you.” Harry informs me as he wraps his arms around me, and for a split second, everything in the world feels all right again.

God, how I have missed his hugs.

Right now, in his arms, there is no place I would rather be. His arms feel like home, he is always welcoming and warm with his hugs and affection. No matter what the world throws at me, I know I can go to him with open arms and find him wrapping his arms around me, shielding me from the cold bitterness of reality.

“I have missed you, my darling,” Harry whispers, holding me a little tighter.

I smile to myself, “I missed you too, are you staying?”

“I’m not meant to, but for you, I will,” Harry responds, “London can manage without me for now.”

I inhale his scent and close my eyes for a moment as my cheek rests against his chest. “That is sweet, why did you come back?” I question, unsure of what prompted him to suddenly fly back. Things in London sounded like they were going to shit, so I don't see why he would fly here when things aren’t stable back there.

“I didn’t realise how overly scheduled you were. I’ll do the meeting, you can go home.”

I pull away from Harry and look up at him, “I can’t, there is that board meeting right before our client meeting.”

“We can sit through the board meeting together, then you can go home,” Harry leans down and kisses my forehead in a sweet way, once again reassuring me that he has things handled. “Do you want me to take over? You can at least sit and relax,” Harry gestures towards the empty seat as he takes it upon himself to take his position at the desk and start reading what I have started without allowing me to give him an answer.

I don’t fight him on it, instead, I sit myself down in the chair, thankful that he flew over here and has saved my ass from exhaustion.

“Wait,” I tiredly pipe up, “You haven’t slept either, you just got off a flight.”

Harry shakes his head, “Slept on the plane, love, just relax, let me stress over this, okay?” Harry responds, flashing me a small smile.

I relax in the chair and do nothing but watch him as he takes control of the documents, sorting them out, signing what needs to be signed and printing of new files. I cock my head to the side, admiring the way he manages to move gracefully and quickly at such an ungodly hour of the morning. He knows exactly what he is doing, he has it all under control and he hasn’t even been here, he never fails to amaze me how he falls into his element so damn quickly.

I smile to myself, beginning to notice how even after hopping off a flight from London, he still looks attractive, his hair is a casual jumble but mostly neat and flowing, his eyes, although weary are still a scintillating, loam-grey shade. His face is grafted with a masculine dark stubble that he hasn’t managed to shave in the last few days.

Harry draws my attention away from gawking over him as he begins to speak, “You’re staring… Is my shirt dirty or something?” he asks as he looks down at his button-up and inspects it.

I shake my head with a small chuckle, “No, bit creased though,” I point out.

“They don’t have irons at the airport, I didn’t exactly have time to pack clothes,” Harry mutters. “Why are you staring?”

“Because you’re good looking, I don’t know how I got lucky with you.”

Harry rolls his eyes, he has always been one to roll his eyes at compliments that come to his looks. I have never quite understood why he doesn’t take the compliments with a smile. Harry hums, “Yeah, you got really lucky with a workaholic asshole of a husband.”

I shrug my shoulders, “Eh, nobody’s perfect, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t an asshole.”

“Thanks, darling, you’re very sweet.”

“You know you’re an asshole, you said it yourself.” I point out, using his own words against him, playfully.

Harry nods his head in agreement, “Indeed, I am.”

❅ ❅ ❅

Harry hands me a file and I open it, beginning to read what is inside, “why am I reading this?”

“So this is what a file looks like that is a complete scam, now if you look at this one, you can see a big difference,” Harry hands me another file and takes the first one, “there’s this new thing going around, scammers trying to take business money by faking the portfolios, I need you to be aware of this just in case.” Harry informs me and I nod, “now the one in your hand is one we are going over in the meeting, I highlighted the figures I wanted to question, I’m wondering if you have any questions or thoughts.”

“I trust your judgment,” I respond, my eyes reading the documents line by line.

The file falls from my hands and the papers scatter across the floor as I balance myself with my hand on the desk, and the other presses to my stomach. I let out a breath.

Within an instant, Harry jumps from his rested position in a chair and takes my side. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I mutter, noticing the papers scattered on the floor and out of order. It will take at least thirty minutes to put them back in order, thirty minutes that we do not have to waste on things.

“Don’t worry about it, sit down,” Harry instructs, guiding me to sit down in one of the chairs, “What’s going on?” Harry questions as I take a minute to breathe.

Before I can answer, the conference room door opens and Anastasia walks in, “Anastasia,” Harry is direct as he looks over towards her, “I need you to postpone the meeting a few hours, tell them I’ll call them as soon as I can. I need you to get a car ready, I am leaving in a few minutes.” Harry instructs firmly and she’s swift to walk out and follow his orders.

“Why’d you do that? This is important.”

Harry shakes his head, “You’re more important, Anastasia told me this happened yesterday too.”

“Is this why you flew back?” I question.

“Do you think I flew back just because of a meeting?”

“Yes,” I nod, “I’m fine. Harry, this meeting is crucial to the business here.”

“I’m glad you have confidence in me. I flew back because I know my wife needs me, she’s just being stubborn,” Harry comments as he begins to pick up the papers I dropped and places them on the desk. “I’m going to take you home and I will come back and finish all of this and the meetings,” Harry informs me.

“What about the board meeting? They said it was mandatory.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that, I will handle it.”

I nod, not bothering to fight him on his decisions, I want to go home anyway, I deserve a rest, I have worked non-stop since he left, I can’t even fight him on this. Deep down, I know that my body needs to relax. I stand to my feet and begin to spread the papers out so I can put them back in chronological order while Harry collects the last of the papers off the floor before we leave...

66 notes · View notes

parniarazi · 4 years

Text

realignment + growth

I haven’t wrote here or in general much lately, as school and worked have picked up and kept me busy, even with doing it all from home! Pandemic aside, the world is moving quickly and it’s hard to keep up sometimes. Especially when big moments happen (like RBG passing), it can feel overwhelming and like nothing we can do matters. What helps me when I feel in over my head is just purging it all with a deep self-reflection that helps anchor me down to what I’m doing towards on a daily basis and how that’s working for me in the big picture. Going back through this blog, I briefly looked over what I wrote at the turn of the year, as 2020 was beginning. Even though things have felt very different and stagnant this year, I realized I’ve actually grown so much and come so far even in this short time!

A year ago right now, I was going through one of the most difficult times of my life, as major shifts were happening in all areas of my life. I had breezed through most of my undergrad, always feeling like school came rather easily to me and academia was an area I wanted to pursue because of this. I didn’t know what to do after graduation, reconciling between wanting to find a “good paying” job with my degree/interests, and wanting to do something that aligns with what I’m passionate about and can bring me a deeper sense of fulfillment. Since I was doing well in school and professors encouraged me when I told them I wanted to go to grad school‚ I figured pursing my PhD and becoming a professor was the way to go. I idolized my professors and loved my campus, so it wasn’t hard to envision myself doing this...at least until I actually started my grad program in political science. Last fall, I was failing and withdrew from a class for the first time, was concerned about having to pay back my scholarship for the semester, and had no idea what I would do if I left my program. I was desperately searching for a way out because I knew I could not thrive (or even survive) in the environment of my grad department— it was revealing some ugly realities and turned out be the opposite of everything I wanted in a career!

Fortunately, being on campus, I was able to talk to other people and departments and eventually found my home in the Communications grad program. I had a cross-listed class, and the Comm students were friendly and inviting, so I began talking to them and found out more about their program. They still seemed to have a soul unlike my own peers— so that was already a good sign! I definitely wanted to keep my soul and work in a field that would respect and pay me for my work. Keep in mind, while all this school/career crisis of wondering what I should do with my life was happening, it was also my first few months being moved out my parents house and living with my boyfriend for the first time. I was missing my family constantly, and adjusting to my new home/life while struggling with horrible anxiety that weighed me down like bricks on my chest.

It got to be too much sometimes— especially because on top of that, my income was tied to my school because I had just started as a graduate assistant in an office on campus. This was also my first real “job,” outside of what I considered to be my “fun college job” teaching swim lessons. Not only did school suck at this time for me, but I also hated this job and the people in my office. It worsened my anxiety, and I ended up going to the school clinic and getting a formal diagnosis (and medication) for anxiety for the first time in my life, even though I’ve dealt with it for as long as I can remember. This was a big step and turning point, because I refused to compromise my mental health and wellbeing for anything. A career that comes at such a cost is not for me— having balance and self-care are far too important to me.

While all of this was happening, I kept pushing my political science advisors to help me and connected with the Communications department about getting into their program instead. I had to advocate for myself harder than ever and push other people to help me, but in the end it was worth it! I finished the semester with the 2 courses I kept, managed to keep getting paid even though my position required full-time enrollment, and I ended up getting accepted into the Comm program by transferring instead of having to wait until the next fall to reapply. With my anxiety, and just being a more a shy/introverted person who was so scared I’d hardly ever speak up in class, I had to find my voice, create my own boundaries, and talk to adults I felt really uncomfortable talking to at first. Big lesson: you have to advocate and speak up for yourself until people see and hear you! It is always worth it, regardless of if you get what you want or not.

I started off the spring in my new program and settled in so much better from the start! I also kept my campus job I hated, but was searching desperately for internships and opportunities to get some actual Comm experience under my belt, as I was entering a new field I had zero experience in. I applied for everything I could and I got a little side gig working as a part-time student organizer for an intersectional feminist non-profit based out of Austin. I was super stoked to just get to do something I’m passionate about and get paid for it, even it was small. Little did I know, this would lead me to big things! Even with the pandemic hitting in the spring, I managed to finish my courses with A’s, work from home with my campus job (no more depressing office vibes!), and apply for dozens of internships. I ended up getting two remote internships over the summer that paid me— one with the same non-profit I was working with as a Digital Intern and another similar position with a different non-profit. I was finally gaining some of the experience and skills I really needed to start a career in this field. Even though the non-profit route was not what I had in mind, I loved my internships and the teams I worked with, and it was so rewarding.

It wasn’t easy working long hours from my laptop on my dining table, but it did have its own perks. No bras or dress pants or waking up early to get ready and drive in traffic— it’s a hell yes from your fave introvert! Another pandemic-inspired moment was finally getting a dog! Even through this seems irrelevant it actually was really in perfect alignment with what I wanted and timing. I’ve wanted a dog for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved animals and with my anxiety it was something I hoped would help at least a little bit. My parents never wanted us to have a dog and I grew up with them telling me it was a huge responsibility so even after I moved out I hesitated and wanted to give myself time to adjust and make money before taking on that responsibility. This summer, I started pushing my boyfriend to look into fostering programs to help me adjust to having a dog at home, and we did but had no luck. One day, I saw a friend posting about a lost dog they found who needed a home. She was cute and I wanted to go see her just to scope it out, and of course the universe brought the most perfect little dog into my life at the most perfect time!

I was just finishing up my internship and had a few weeks of down time before the semester started, so it was the perfect time to adjust to having my new dog, Sage, around. Since then, we’ve bonded so much and I love just having another little creature around the house! She really does bring warmth and light into my life. She pushes me to get outside more even when I feel shitty, she makes me have a more consistent routine, and just helps alleviate my stress while connecting me with my inner child and inner caretaker at the same time. During the latter half of this quarantine, my boyfriend and I also had our share of struggles and fights we had to work through. Like anything worth having, it took effort to work through some rough patches, but at the end of the day I believe in the power of love and its ability to persevere and heal, even in the most difficult times. Not to mention, having our little Sage around even helped us through it! This taught me to trust that the right things will happen in the right timing, and the right people will make an effort to stick it out with you.

I was incredible lucky and blessed that several things I was manifesting and working hard towards happened in perfect alignment. First, I got a scholarship from my grad school that allowed me go back full-time and only have to pay half of my tuition (big plus since I was paying this myself). Secondly, one of the ladies I had worked with during my Digital internship found another position and was leaving the non-profit I had worked with, and she recommended me for a part-time version of her position. They extended me this offer shortly before my semester started for school. I planned to keep my campus job, since it was staying remote too, and I wanted to stack up some savings after the COVID-life lessons I’d been learning. I knew it was going to be a challenge to maintain the personal/self-care balance I need in life with my now full-time class load and 2 part-time jobs. However, I felt so fortunate to have these opportunities while so many people across the country are struggling to keep normalcy going or even stay afloat during this time. Especially not being able to travel, go out much, or do other things, I figured what better time than now to just buckle down to work hard and make major moves towards what I want.

The universe is blessing me with this alignment and opportunity right now— it’s giving me everything I worked for in this past year. Especially with my new job at the non-profit, the team is incredibly kind but also puts serious support behind their staff. They’re paying me pretty well, but also want to transition me to a full-time staff member at their Austin office after I graduate! They’re mentoring me and teaching me so much, plus I’m getting to know a network of professionals who work in organizing, advocacy, and other important work that directly helps people! Like I literally could not have asked for anything better and more me! Life lesson: It’s worth struggling for a bit and diving into the unknown as long as you feel like it’s the right thing to do for you.

My parents had wanted me to stay in the PhD program. I knew in my gut and heart that it wasn’t going to work for me though, so I split the second I could. I trusted myself, advocated for myself, and worked through the scary uncertainties about if I would ever find a job I liked and that paid me well. I knew changing career paths would give me a chance to open myself up to new things that align better with who I am and what I desire in life and work. Here I am a year later, and I wouldn’t have gotten any of these amazing opportunities if I hadn’t trusted myself and worked hard to forge my path. Although this year turned out to be nothing like what any of us had planned, I’m so privileged and lucky that it turned out to be a year of incredible milestones and growth for me nonetheless!

Today, with this new moon energy and the powerful seasonal shift of fall on the verge of unfolding, I felt the need to make these reflections as a reminder to myself that hard work pays off. Doing what’s right pays off. Doing work that matters really fucking pays off. Fall is a special season that allows us to harvest the seeds we’ve sown all year. It’s cheesy, but I’m a sucker for being in tune with nature and the seasons, trusting each season will bring its own negatives and positives that foster growth or death in the right places, restoring a greater balance in the ways that we need.

With each season, I am growing into a stronger, wiser, more beautiful version of myself. I am deeply grateful for everything, both the good and bad in my life, because every detail is a puzzle piece that allows for the big picture of my path and place in the world to unfold. I’ve also been fostering patience and maturity, as I navigate this pandemic world and knowing (unlike many other people my age) that as much as I miss the “normal world” too, it’s not worth risking my own health or the health of anyone else to have “fun.” I can reinvent the ways in which I bring joy and fun into my life, while staying safe and trusting that those moments and activities will make their way back in my life eventually as things get better. It’s all temporary.

I am unshakable in my roots and focused on what is important. My vibe is so strong and beautiful, it’s no surprise that I’m not for everyone! Of course, there are areas like friendships and my social life that I’ve put on the back burner for now, but I know as I’m working on myself and just being authentic in putting myself out there, the right people will make their way into my life at the right time! Growing up is strange anytime but especially in this moment, and in some ways I’ve grown apart from who I thought I was, but I also feel more connected to myself than ever. I am healing each day with the light and love in my life— I don’t need anyone’s approval and have nothing to prove to anyone but myself!

My value and my place in the world doesn’t require anyone’s approval and is not tied to down to any single thing. It comes through in the love I give and receive, it comes through in the way my soul feels when I wake up, it comes through in the literal beauty I get to experience in the world. I went through a negative slump in the late summer and my anxiety was majorly triggered these past several weeks as I re-adjusted to full-time school and my work. This new moon has brought great clarity, a sense of deeper renewal, and turning a new leaf as I return home to myself. To my positive outlook and perseverance that has brought me to this point. Life is nothing without the little moments of joy and love— again, just let me corny and say that aligning back to being present and enjoying those little things is really all that matters.

My past self would be so proud of me and where I am today. I worked for and earned every beautiful moment that comes my way, and I intend on giving that back to others. Every ray of light that enters me, every penny of abundance I receive, I intend on reflecting right back, because nothing is meant to just be absorbed. It’s nothing unless it’s reflected back into the world in meaningful ways, whether those are tangible or not. I trust that I am making my mark by simply being me and being that reflection. This is how history changes course, and patterns are broken with new ones created. I’ll end with a few manifestations and mantras for this fall-winter season we’re entering!

M A N I F E S T A T I O N S

☽ The people will win, because our power truly is greater than that of those in power. We all deserve better, and so many people are putting in tireless work to make that better world a reality. Thing may not be perfect, now or ever, but making progress and supporting those who need it the most is always a win and it is coming our way because there is a shift happening that the world will have to keep up with.

☽ I will reconnect with my more creative side, allowing my potential to shine through even more. Whether it’s for work or for my own hobbies, I will continue finding outlets for myself to create things that feel authentic and important to who I am, but to also fill in gaps where I feel like others need it.

☽ I will stay rooted and grounded in my spiritual practices, even when they’re the easiest things to give up when life gets busy, that just means they’re even more necessary to stay connected with! I will make time for journaling, playing, meditating, yoga, cooking, and other activities that bring me in tune with my natural state as a human.

☽ I will connect and find community. Through being my most authentic self and working through my scars, my negative patterns, and my own blocks, I will find a sense of community with others and find people on my same wavelength who I can connect with. No expectations in mind or idealized version of friendship in mind, just pure desire to connect with others and mutually contribute to each others’ lives in positive ways

☽ Love will persevere and heal as its meant to, in both my relationship and family. Everything will be okay and work out just fine, if not better, than I expect. Pavel and I will be okay and keep growing together, and my family will be okay in staying healthy and strong through this time as something better arises for my dad’s work situation.

M A N T R A S

☽ I am focused on what matters right now.

☽ I am strong, powerful, and capable of doing what I set my mind to.

☽ I have a kind and beautiful energy that anyone would be lucky to have.

☽ I can find presence and joy in the little moments.

☽ I can find patience and trust that everything will happen as its meant to.

#reflection #2020 life #words #personal #new moon

2 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

From Under Liquid Glass (2) (Branjie)- Ortega

a/n: somebody said they wanted another lil chapter to this, so i hope u all enjoy! it’s been quite a while since the first chapter was posted, so if u want to catch up u can read here! I hope u all enjoy it, and as always feel free to send love to AQ or to my blog!!

Trigger Warning: lots of discussion around anxiety throughout the whole fic so just generally would say avoid if that’s something that’s going to potentially affect u

Summary: Brooke Lynn Hytes was always told she’d have it all. She was never told that “all” would include crippling anxiety. Signed off from work at 27, Brooke moves back to her childhood home and has to get her head around her fall from grace.

Vanessa “Vanjie” Mateo has no job, no degree, and -£32.65 to her name, but she prides herself on keeping a level head. That all changes when a certain high school crush moves back into town and back into her life.

***

Brooke sat in a slightly cushioned red chair with a curved back, rendering her almost horizontal in the way it reclined. Opposite her in an identical chair was an older woman of around 40, who wore thick-rimmed purple glasses and had ensured the whole room smelt of incense sticks. So far she was filling every therapist stereotype in the book.

“So the purpose of today’s session, Brooke Lynn,” she said, in a voice so calming it made her sound like she’d been tranquilised and was moments away from passing out. “Is to just let me get to know a bit about you and your situation and what’s brought you here to me.”

Brooke ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. “I’ve been…signed off from work. With stress.“

The woman sat opposite her, simply looking. Not staring. Not replying. Just looking. It soon became clear that she wasn’t going to speak, so Brooke sighed, crossed a leg and opened her mouth again. "And…it fucking sucks? Like I’ve been off for a couple of days now and I’m waiting for the moment where I don’t wake up feeling guilty as all hell and panicked and wanting to go back and work through it, but I know if I go back nothing will have changed and they’ll treat me like I’m all better and I won’t be.”

The woman pushed her glasses up her nose. “You mentioned ‘they’, who’s 'they’, Brooke Lynn?"

Brooke frowned, disliking the use of her name. It felt too personal, too familiar. She had only just met the woman and here she was about to tell her all her life story? There was no way she could do this.

Nevertheless, she puffed a lot of air out of her cheeks and continued. "My management. They don’t care about staff wellbeing. As long as there’s a body in the room, they’re happy.”

The woman nodded slowly, then cast an eye to the forms on the small coffee table beside her that Brooke had filled in just moments ago. “So you’re a secondary school teacher. It must be a very high-pressured job- exam grades to be met, reports to write, challenging behaviour?"

Brooke knew what she was trying to do, to get her to reveal more information without really asking her anything. It grated on her, and part of Brooke wanted to call her out on it irritably but then she’d be filling another therapy stereotype, the guarded, cranky patient who didn’t want to let her walls down, so she didn’t. "Yes. I teach dance, so. There’s lots of pressure to get my kids into dance schools as well. From parents, from management, from the kids.”

“And do you feel that some of that pressure comes from yourself?” the therapist asked. Brooke was taken aback by the question. She furrowed her brows.

“I mean…yeah, I guess? I always tend to put pressure on myself but that’s how I function, it’s how I work best, under pressure. So there’s always got to be a bit of that.”

“And do you feel under pressure just now, being off work?”

Brooke again was unsure. She thought of her answer for a moment before she said it, the room filled with silence. “I guess not? I mean no, maybe, yeah. Pressure to come back, I suppose.”

“Okay. Let’s take right now. Are you feeling under any pressure?"

Brooke blinked. If she thought about it too much, then yeah, sure. But at the moment, in the moment, she felt fine. She felt safe, if guarded. "No.”

“And are you still functioning?”

“…Yes.”

“So you don’t really need to pressure yourself to work hard. Do you?”

Brooke felt her eyebrows raise. Her voice caught in her throat. “I…guess not.”

There was a small pause. The woman nodded back at her. “Maybe something that we can work on is…thinking in the moment.”

Brooke felt an odd sense of clarity. Was this how therapy was supposed to feel? “Okay. Sure.”

The therapist moved on. “So you detailed you were living at home for the time being. What’s your support system like here?”

“Uh, there’s my Mum and my Dad. Both still working, inexplicably, since they both should’ve retired a couple years ago. They’re sweet and supportive but I don’t feel like I can really properly talk to them, you know?”

The therapist nodded and said nothing. This was like pulling teeth.

“Uh, there’s my cat, Henry. Well, he’s not strictly my cat, he’s the family cat.”

“And what about friends?” the woman asked inquisitively, Brooke shrugging easily.

“Yeah, I mean I have-” she cut herself off. Yvie? Plastique? Bianca? Scarlet? Detox? No. None of them she could really call support. Nina? She was sweet, but she was a work friend, plus she was now miles away back in the city. Who did Brooke actually have? The thought sobered her, and she clammed up. The therapist gently spoke again.

“We don’t have to discuss friendships today if that’s a particularly sore subject for you, but it’s good that you at least have family around you at this time.”

“It’s not that it’s a sore subject, I guess I just…” Brooke sighed, feeling a lump in her throat which she quickly swallowed down. “I just didn’t realise how few friends I have any more.”

“It’s natural to lose contact with people as you grow older. Perhaps one thing you could decide to do with your time off is to catch up with old friends while you have the time. It may help you feel more grounded, or lift your mood,” the woman suggested gently. Brooke watched as she glanced to the clock on her desk. “That’s almost it for the time we have. Next session we’ll talk a bit more in detail about what we’ve covered just now, but it was good to meet you today, Brooke Lynn, and to get to know you a bit. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

Brooke thought. “Uh, how many of these sessions would you say I had to have before I start feeling…you know. Myself again.”

Her therapist set her mouth in an awkward line. “That’s not for me to say. It’s whenever you feel ready and whatever pace you move at over the course of these sessions. It’s entirely your decision.”

Brooke nodded briefly. That was good. She enjoyed having the control, enjoyed feeling like she could stop at any time.

“What time would suit you for next week’s session?”

Brooke cracked a smile. “Uh, well, I’m pretty easy, what with the whole being signed off work thing.”

The woman opposite her just looked at her expectantly. Tough crowd, therapists. Brooke picked the same day, same time and then left the building, the professional, office-like facade rendering none of the general public able to tell that Brooke has just been to see someone because she was ever so slightly fucking loopy. She felt as if she was part of Men In Black. Or the MIB would have to stand for something else. Mentally Ill Bitch? That should do it.

Checking the time and slowing down outside a coffee shop, she shrugged. It was just past 10 and she hadn’t had any breakfast yet, unless she counted a beta blocker and a cup of tea. She pushed the door and headed inside, the smell of coffee hitting her instantly and reminding her of work, an uneasy feeling creeping up in her chest. The feeling only got worse when she saw who was in the queue one person ahead of her. She heard her before she saw her, Vanessa shouting up an order for a cappuccino loudly over the banging and whirring of the coffee machines. She was dressed in a smart red pinafore dress with a black top underneath, its ¾ length sleeves showing off her tanned arms. Brooke was thrown, looking at the ceiling, the floor, the suspicious-looking cheese and mushroom toasties on display, anything and anywhere apart from the girl’s face. Brooke felt herself hold her breath. Why the fuck was she destined to bump into Vanessa every time she looked like a demon from an M. Night Shyamalan movie? Her hair (clean, but not blow-dried so all her ends were dry and frizzy) was swept up into an unattractive ponytail that made her look like a forgotten Mitchell brother, she didn’t have a scrap of makeup on her face, and all her clothes were the ones from uni she’d neglected to take with her when she moved so she was wearing dark blue jeans, white converse, and a horrific blue sweatshirt patterned with sushi with “THIS IS HOW I ROLL” in huge white letters across the front, which had seemed like a good idea to nineteen-year-old Brooke.

And then Vanessa turned around and hit her with a huge beaming smile, her face lighting up in surprise. Fuck. For a huge town, it did simultaneously seem really quite small.

“Hey! Brooke Lynn! Come up! She’s with me,” Vanessa gestured and said to the barista, an awkward Brooke shuffling past the man in front of her and over to Vanessa. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks- uh, an almond croissant and a flat white, please,” Brooke said to the man across the counter from her, cringing as she felt the judgemental eyes of the man queueing behind her boring into her. Trying to ignore her overwhelming embarrassment at feeling watched, she turned to Vanessa instead. “How are you?”

“I’m fuckin’ peachy, girl. Gone and got myself an interview, haven’t I?” Vanessa smiled proudly, a smile involuntarily springing to Brooke’s face.

“Oh, wow, that’s great! Congratulations!"

"Yeah, well, it’s only Lidl. It’s not amazing. But I’m still excited,” Vanessa shrugged, Brooke clocking the dimples that appeared as the other girl smiled. Had they always been a thing?

“You could say you’re a Lidl bit excited,” Brooke said, completely monotone as Vanessa snorted a laugh and thumped her on the arm. Brooke was distracted by the barista who asked her if she wanted her food to take away. Brooke gave a quick glance at Vanessa, who smiled hesitantly.

“I’ve got mine to sit in. I’ve got twenty minutes or so before I have to head for my train, you can come join me if you want,” she shrugged lightly, Brooke feeling a blush hit her cheeks. Why? Why was she blushing? It was only a girl from high school asking her to hang out.

“Sure. Sitting in then, please,” Brooke smiled tightly at the barista. She held her card out to tap against the reader, but before she could even react, Vanessa had leaned across and got her own card there first. Brooke turned to her with narrowed eyes and the other girl smirked cheekily. “You’re literally unemployed.”

“Oh, what, and a bitch can’t treat a girl to nice things?” Vanessa snapped, her face at once furious, and Brooke felt her own blanche in horror. A tsunami of relief washed over her as Vanessa suddenly laughed, her eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Jesus H Christ, you’re far too easy to wind up. You’re like a lil’ clockwork toy.”

Brooke felt her cheeks grow hot. Blushing again. What the fuck?

They took their drinks to a small seat beside the window, where the glass was wet and misty from condensation and the people passing outside moved like ghosts. Vanessa curled her hands around the huge mug of coffee, neglecting to sip it yet and instead choosing to tilt her head and smile at Brooke gently. “So, you’re up kinda early for a bitch that’s off work. You not livin’ the high life watching Judge Rinder and sleepin’ in til noon an’ shit?”

Brooke gave a laugh. “I was at therapy.”

“Damn, well I really put my foot in it there,” Vanessa gave a slightly choked cough and smiled guiltily at Brooke. “I’m sorry, girl. How was it? You make any amazing breakthroughs?”

“Well it was only the first session. It was mainly just me filling out paperwork and telling her about my life and stuff,” Brooke shrugged, looking down as she ripped her croissant in two. When she looked up, Vanessa was biting back a smile, her eyes sparkling a little.

“Damn. You paid forty pounds for that?”

Brooke raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the girl opposite her, trying and failing to hold back a smile at Vanessa’s mischievous grin. “Forty five actually.”

“Oh, my bad. Sorry. Forty five,” Vanessa smirked, Brooke laughing in spite of herself. “Shit, maybe I should become a terrapin.”

“…therapist,” Brooke corrected her, a little awkward. As Vanessa snorted at herself, her cheeks grew red in a blush that only seemed to make her more endearing. Intrigued, Brooke tilted her head. “Okay, then, Miss Therapist. What would you say to me? What advice would you give?”

“Well, I’d just say that…” Vanessa began, looking a little lost. Snapping her gaze back to Brooke, her face seemed to soften. It set off a warm feeling that spread across Brooke’s heart and out into her chest. “I’d say that things look really shitty now, but it’s always darkest before dawn, y’know, and tomorrow’s another day. Just try not to look at things long-term. I don’t know, I know I hardly know you, really, but you just seem like someone who has this big five-year-plan. You don’t have to, girl. You’re what, twenty-seven?”

“Good to know I look my age,” Brooke quipped dryly. Vanessa kicked her underneath the table.

“Bitch, I know how old you are! I was fourteen when you were eighteen, so you’re twenty-seven now! Am I wrong?”

“Do you call all your clients bitches?” Brooke asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“Only the pretty ones,” Vanessa gave her a look that Brooke couldn’t make out, but she knew it made her cross her legs under the table and squeeze her thighs together. Vanessa raised her coffee to her lips and gave a light shrug. “And the ones that are bitches, of course.”

Brooke snorted a laugh. “Okay, so that’s your advice? One day at a time, it’s always darkest before dawn? Damn, I’ve never visited a therapist that speaks entirely in cliches.”

Vanessa finished drinking and put her mug down. “Ah, but I actually gave you advice! Which is more than yours did today, what’d she do, give you some forms and listen to your life story?”

“Stop trash-talking my therapist, god,” Brooke rolled her eyes, Vanessa laughing playfully opposite her. Her deep brown eyes seemed to light up every time she laughed or smiled, giving them a sparkle that Brooke couldn’t help but be drawn to. “You’re not getting paid for that, by the way.”

“Damn. Shame, really. I could use it if this job interview goes to shit,” Vanessa shrugged, her smile turning the slightest bit sad as she turned to look out the window. “Which it prolly will.”

“Don’t say that! It’ll be fine. Better than fine! You’ll be great,” Brooke insisted, almost falling over herself to reassure Vanessa. God, why was she so nervous all of a sudden? It was probably the anxiety. It definitely wasn’t the smile Vanessa sent her way in return.

“You’re sweet,” she said softly, a slight flush of red hitting her cheeks.

Yep. Definitely the anxiety. Not Vanessa’s outrageously fucking beautiful face.

“Well, I’m telling the truth! You’d be great in retail, I don’t know why people aren’t falling over themselves to employ you.”

“Brooke, when I said I didn’t have any quali…qualificitations…”

“Qualifications.”

“…fuckin’, A-Levels. I meant it. I have nothin’. I’m fuckin’ Whitney Houston over here,” Vanessa gave a small laugh, sighing as she took another sip. Brooke couldn’t help but mirror the sigh.

“If you don’t mind me asking…how come?” Brooke asked tentatively, cushioning the invasive question with a compliment. “You always struck me as someone really bright,”

Vanessa snorted. “Your judgement’s poor, boo. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. How d’you think I was fourteen in Year 7? I had to sit Year 5 twice. You know I straight-up couldn’t write a sentence on my own until I was eight?”

Brooke tried to feign indifference but she knew her expression gave her away. Vanessa laughed. “Exactly, bitch! Then when I got to high school, the teachers were all bitchier an’ meaner. And I was goin’ through puberty as well, which made me bitchier an’ meaner. So bitchy mean teachers plus bitchy mean Vanjie was never gonna be a good combo.”

Brooke let a small silence hang in the air as Vanessa stared out of the steamed-up window and cupped her mug with two hands. “I was screamin’ at teachers in class, swearin’ at ‘em, straight-up threw a book at some bitch’s head once. To be fair, she deserved it, ‘cuz she started sayin’ I would be a total failure in life an’ have no job an’ no prospects. And I mean, I am, but you don’t say that to a fifteen year old kid, right? I don’t know…I regret a lot of the shit I did, but I don’t regret that.”

Brooke said nothing, instead just choosing to listen to all Vanessa wanted to vent to her. “Of course, ‘cuz I started gettin’ mouthy in class I started gettin’ the attention of the other mouthy girls. They didn’t like me…fuck knows why, but they didn’t. I got in a bunch of fights…I mean, some people would prolly say they bullied me, but I gave as good as I got, you know? Anyway, got to sixteen an’ they expelled me. And there was no legal requirement for me to go back to school, so I never did. My Mum, shit, I never saw her so mad before. She told me the moment I turned eighteen I was out on my ass, an’ she held that up. I was all cocky, thinkin’ I could just charm myself into a job. But here I am. Five years later an’ I’m in a council flat livin’ off the most basic fuckin’ government handout and the last of the savings my Mum put aside for me.”

Brooke shook her head. “Fuck, Vanessa, I’m sorry. That’s really rough.”

“Hey, it’s just my life! That’s my lot, girl, an’ I’m stuck with it. But hopefully today’s my lucky day,” Vanessa smiled tightly, then frowned. “Fuck, Brooke, I’m kinda nervous.”

Brooke was hit with an unbearable urge to reach out and take Vanessa’s hand. She didn’t. “That’s natural. Don’t worry. You’ll kill it, they’ll love you!”

Vanessa smiled bashfully again, which made Brooke feel like melting butter. Unable to help herself, she added, “You could definitely charm yourself into a job.”

Brooke pressed her lips together to keep from smiling as Vanessa let out a laugh. “You’re awful, Jesus Christ! Stop distractin’ me, I need to be focused.”

“How am I distracting you!” Brooke exclaimed, affronted. Vanessa gazed at her with a look in her eye that Brooke couldn’t decipher, then shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” she laughed softly. Then her gaze snapped to the clock on the wall. “Damn, I need to hurry. That’d be my luck if I missed my fuckin’ train. Shit, sorry for offloading my fuckin’ life story onto you.”

“Don’t worry. I kinda did the same to you in the supermarket, so now we’re even. You have my full permission to launch into deep chat any time you see me,” Brooke smiled, regretting the fact that Vanessa had to leave. As she grabbed her bag, Vanessa’s face turned wistful. Pausing, she pulled out her phone.

“Y’know, we should do this again some time. Before you have to go back to work. I know I’m a shit therapist, but you still don’t need to pay me anythin’ if you wanna talk. I mean, maybe you can get the coffee next time. Since you actually earn a fuckin’ wage.”

Brooke laughed, her heart fluttering as Vanessa held out her phone with a blank contact on the screen. Brooke punched in her number then, pausing for only a second, she wrote her name as “Brooke x”. Her heart held its breath as Vanessa took the phone back, cast a glance over it, and smiled ever so slightly.

“Cool. Well, I’ll text you next time I’m free, and I’ll let you know how I do today. But it was so good to see you, girl. As always,” Vanessa smiled, leaning down and giving Brooke a hug. Her clothes smelt of washing powder and her hair had that freshly-shampooed scent, and the two combined made Brooke not want to let go. Vanessa made that decision for her, pulling away and waving a goodbye as she hurried out of the shop.

As Brooke watched her red-pinafored silhouette make its way to the train station, she found herself sitting her phone on the coffee table screen-up, an unexpected optimism and hope nestling itself in her heart, and her mind filled with the girl who had been dealt shit cards in life but who’d still tapped her card against the reader to pay for Brooke’s drink as if it was nothing.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #angst #lesbian au #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #from under liquid glass #ortega

41 notes · View notes

coronashmorona · 4 years

Text

COVID-19 Isolation:

Day 0

For a day & a half, my husband (hereinafter “Hubs”) & I pondered (read: lowkey argued about) the boundaries & limitations we should be imposing on our selves & our kids given the increased prevalence of coronavirus in our area. Was avoiding everyone all weekend really necessary? Can we eat takeout food? Should our kids go to school on Monday? What about after-school activities? What about the fantasy baseball draft we were supposed to host next weekend? Or the slew of small children’s birthday parties scheduled for the coming weeks?

Hubs was already planning on working from home, which he does often the last few years after his firm moved to a “hoteling” style office. My work is very flexible part-time & gets done whenever I can fit it in around everyone else’s schedules, i.e. can also take place from home if needed.

Then, today, we got word that all local schools will be closed for 2 weeks. So at least that’s settled.

Now, we’re confronting the challenge of how to go about our daily lives under these strange new circumstances. Namely:

The need for some kind of scheduled routine. We have a first-grader & a preschooler. They are absolutely wonderful, but go entirely bonkers if we’re home without any structure. They’re also in completely different places as far as personality, temperament, & educational needs.

First-grader (hereinafter “6yo”) is kind of a high-strung, type-A, preintellectual. She needs a full briefing about what’s happening every hour of every day. If plans change, she has a million questions about what the alteration entails. (If she’s conscious, she has a million questions, period.) She enjoys so many great activities - artistic pursuits, imaginative play, dancing, & really anything else that involves running around like a banshee - but constantly asks for TV time and/or a snack anyway. Historically, it’s been nearly impossible to set her up with an activity & walk away for more than 10 minutes; she’s just the sort of kid who needs/expects an adult caregiver to provide companionship, guidance, & answers at all times. I’m hoping that having an agenda mapped out for each day will remind her of school & she’ll be more amenable to doing things independently for a relatively short, set amount of time. I can also meet her halfway & do my work at the dining room table while she embarks on a quiet activity. Finally, it sounds like the school district is hatching a contingency plan for remote student learning, complete with daily homework posted online, which is comforting to say the least.

Preschooler (”4yo”) is a rambunctious ball of energy, but tends to be pretty easygoing overall. If left to his own devices, he’ll wander over to his trains or his blocks or even a book & play on his own. The problem, of course, is that when left to his own devices for too long, he’s probably up to no good. His favorite pastime of late has been playing in Hubs’s office, using some old printers & other computer accessories to “build Robot Marty” (a.k.a. the robot that roams the aisles at Stop & Shop). This activity will be mostly off-limits while Hubs works from home - a deprivation that I’m sure will be ill-received & spawn all sorts of disruptive discovery missions, i.e. let’s see what happens when we stick the end of Mama’s headphones into the electrical outlet. Oyyy. My hope is that if I break out some toys he hasn’t used in a while, & a few shiny new (read: held in abeyance since his birthday) ones, he’ll amuse him accordingly while 6yo & I do our thing.

Getting fed. I am really, really nervous about consuming commercially prepared food right now. The chances of contracting COVID-19 from it are small, but it doesn’t seem worth the risk. As it is, I’m a bit of a DIY food purist, frequently eschewing restaurant food for my own creations. I have a whole separate blog detailing my experiences with Whole30, in which I take my appreciation for clean-eating to the max in order to improve my health. Tl;dr I cook a lot of fresh veggies & lean meats & try to minimize the amount of processed foods in my diet. Doing this is hard enough under ~ordinary stressful circumstances, let alone a global pandemic. I’ve already slid into some unhealthy reflexive stress-eating that needs to be curtailed ASAP.

The biggest point with this, I feel, is establishing a meal+snack schedule. Else, the kids will constantly be asking for things to eat, interrupting any hope of sticking to a playtime/learning/physical activity schedule. On certain days spent mostly at home, I feel like all I do is stand in the kitchen cutting fruit, & we will not survive the next few weeks if that’s how it’s gonna be. Granted, this is sometimes exacerbated by my own penchant to use a free minute here or there to chop & roast some Brussels sprouts or eggplant. But there has to be a point at which “oh look, Mom’s in the kitchen” doesn’t automatically translate to “let’s give her something else to do”.

A possible strategy to alleviate this involves cutting a bunch of fruit in advance, portioning it out, & storing it on a fridge shelf the kids can reach, so they can get it themselves. I don’t want to deprive them of food; we just feel that they shouldn’t be eating a constant stream of processed garbage. This is a particular risk for 6yo, who has the metabolism & appetite of a hummingbird & openly fixates on the constant quest for treats.

Dealing with life’s other extenuating circumstances. As others with young children can likely attest, our life is constantly in several different states of flux, limbo, and/or disarray. Some other things we’ve been dealing with lately and/or will be dealing with shortly:

Hubs’s dad is having a hip replacement tomorrow. Several people tried to talk him out of it, but he’s been having terrible sciatic pain for a long time & as long as the surgeon/hospital will have him he feels he needs to go ahead with it. Who will take care of him afterward, & whether/when we can visit, remain uncertain. LATE-BREAKING UPDATE: surgery cancelled. A relief insofar as one variable eliminated.

Last week I definitely herniated/tore something in my abdominal area while pulling the kids in a wagon, & need to see a doctor for that. I’m not thrilled with the idea of being in a highly-trafficked public place, but I also don’t want to put off getting myself looked at & aggravate the injury in the meantime. As it is, I’m trying not to lift heavy things (e.g., our 4-year-old) or spend too much time on my feet, but that in itself is a struggle. Right now my appointment is scheduled for a time at which Hubs has a very important (virtual) work meeting, so I need to reschedule it and/or find someone else who can watch the kids. I’m praying for the former outcome because it begs the question “Who should we be letting in the house?!”

We’re in the early stages of renovating our kitchen. This means that we’ve met with a few designers/contractors about possible layouts & options, inching towards finalizing a plan & selecting one of them to carry it out. It sounds like Hubs wants to move ahead with this process as before, but suffice to say my mental bandwidth is now sufficiently occupied with other shit.

I’m always in the middle of 187 different things, & it feels like they’re all now on hold: purging the house of outgrown clothes & toys, organizing the basement, learning German, catching up on continuing legal education credits,

Processing the fear + existential woe. None of us have ever lived through anything like this. It is fucked up. I try to take comfort in the fact that the isolation protocols are empowering: by staying away from others who might be carrying the disease, we’re taking control of an uncertain situation.

But there’s still so. much. uncertainty. Right now, the kids are scheduled to go back to school March 30th. Then their spring break will start on April 8th, to coincide with the start of Passover (as well as Holy Week & Easter). Last year, we hosted a seder for 18 people. Can we do that this time? I have tickets to one concert (locally) in late April, & to another (abroad) in early June - will either one actually be happening?!

These are, decidedly, #firstworldproblems. But I think I join the rest of humanity in being utterly pissed off & daunted by the whole ordeal. Until another few weeks pass, all we can do is wait. And wash our hands a lot. 🧼 💦 🙏🏼

#covid19 #coronavirus #social distancing #self isolation #parenting #kids

5 notes · View notes

pixieungerstories · 5 years

Text

Mistaken - 2

Hi Readers. My Patreon is suffering some summer loses just now. I’m trying to drum up a bit of business. This story has the next 20+ chapters available for the low low price of only $3 a month! Read it! Love it!, Reblog it!

I was being dragged down the hallway. The orc in question was holding my upper arm in one hand and a screaming, fighting Max in the other. He walked briskly down the hall as I struggled to keep up. “Please slow down,” I begged.

I was ignored.

“You can let go of my arm. You have my son, I’m not going to leave without him.”

Nothing.

“Can you even understand what I’m saying?”

He stopped outside one of the shower room attached to the gym. He let go of my arm and opened the door. He walked in, Max still in his arms. I hesitated, but only for an instant. I could hear my son calling for me.

The shower room was deserted. The orc set down Max and turned on a shower. After checking the temperature, he caught Max, pushed the boy into my arms and both of us into the shower. Then he left. We were fully dressed and our clothes were rapidly soaking through. I scrambled out of the shower and stripped us both.

It had been a very long time since I had access to hot water and soap. So long that Max had never seen it. I was delighted. He was terrified. I scrubbed myself first, telling him it how nice it was. I even soaped up my hair, what there was of it. Everyone got a haircut every spring. Or more specifically, they stripped us and sheared us like sheep, running clippers over every inch of us then sending us to be treated for lice. It was effective, it just wasn’t pleasant. Eventually, I was able to lure the little guy in with me with the promise of milk. He liked the bubbles.

When we were both clean, I turned off the water and came out of the stall. Our clothes were gone. In place of my prison-like jumpsuit and Max’s nappy was a clean set of clothes. Underwear, a sweat shirt and pants. Some coarse towels and a fresh cloth diaper for Max. Keeping him clean in the camp had been a challenge. In the summer, it was easier to just let him run around bare. This was a large square of fabric and a diaper pin. I had gotten quite good at folding them in the last year. I was surprised that there wasn’t a more high tech option provided. Max squirmed and wanted to play. I wanted him to hold still long enough for me to get him into the origami fold diaper I was trying to keep hold of.

Suddenly the orc was back. He caught Max and pinned him to the floor, then with a shocking amount of efficiency, he got Max into the diaper I had folded like he has been trained to it. I fought not to giggle at the idea of a bunch of orc warriors learning diaper folds in basic training. Max stopped squirming and went back to crying. The orc stood up and grabbed me again. As he dragged me off, Max toddled along crying and wanting me to pick him up.

“I don’t understand. If you are supposed to be his father, why are you hurting him like this?”

He didn’t say anything to that, but his whole body tensed and his grip on my arm tightened enough to make me scream and my legs buckle under me.

Now he stopped and looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. He let go of my arm and I shrieked again as blood flow returned to my fingers. I collapsed on the floor and sat there holding my son. We were both sobbing. My “mate” was staring at me in disbelief. One of the other orcs in the hallway muttered something. Someone laughed. Tattoos’ ears darked and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hunched over Max, trying to shield him with my body incase the giant kicked us. Nothing happened. After a moment a woman, a human woman came over and knelt next to me.

“Are you ok?”

I didn’t even know how to begin to answer that.

“Come on, let’s get you up. I’m Doctor Brown. You were on your way to see me anyway.”

It didn’t make any sense, but I started to giggle. I don’t know if I was just so stressed that I was having some sort of break down or what, but the idea of being treated by Doc Brown in the middle of an alien invasion was ridiculous. All I needed was someone to rant about a bolt of lighting to hit all the science fiction cliches. Max stared at me in horror. Tattoos was looking confused, but I couldn’t stop.

Dr Brown just ignored it and tried to help me up. When she touched my arms, I yelped and the giggling stopped. She let go of my arm and pushed up my sleeve. A fairly respectable bruise was already starting to form. It would have been Instagram worthy, back in the day. Dr Brown glared up at the unnamed tattooed guy. Then she looked at me, “Kari? Can you stand?”

I nodded. Pushing myself to my feet wasn’t the best feeling, but once I was upright instead of carrying the weight on my arms it was fine. Mostly fine. Max came over and took my hand. He was a tall kid, it was easy to forget that he was not yet two. He was still just a baby, really. This shouldn’t be happening to him.

The doc did a full physical on Max first. It included having him drink from a cup and eat with a spoon. She asked if he was speaking yet.

“Only a few words. He knows Momma, eat, ball that sort of thing. He can point to his nose or elbow or whatever if I ask, but he can’t say the words yet.”

She made a note of this. “You are still breastfeeding?”

I blushed and nodded. “He’s big but he isn’t that old yet and he gets too hungry between meals for me not to.”

She nodded and wrote that down too. Then she looked up and me saying,”You are going to need a physical too.”

I swallowed. “I’m fine.”

She turned her head and didn’t look at me when she said, “I’m sorry. I wish you had the option of refusing. They insist and if I don’t do it, they send in one of their doctors.”

I felt a little ill about that.

“Christopher,” here she indicated an orc in a set of white surgical scrubs waiting with Tattoos near the door, “will need to observe. Max can wait out here with … um… his father.”

I closed my eyes and fought not to cry, “I don’t want him out of my sight.”

Dr Brown nodded, “I can understand that, but it would be better if he wasn’t there for the internal exam.”

“Christopher gets to watch the internal exam?” I prayed that I had misunderstood that part. The doc nodded slowly, while still avoiding eye contact. “I don’t want that.”

“I know, but it has to be one of them.”

I looked at ‘Christopher’ who was watching me with a grim look of determination on his face. Then I looked at the doc. Her whole posture screaming that she didn’t want to do this either. “What happens to you, if I say no?”

“I have to watch as they hold you down and someone with bigger hands and no care does it anyway.”

I blinked at that. Then I looked at Christopher’s hands. They were huge. I couldn’t bring myself to say yes, but I walked into the exam room anyway. Dr Brown and Christopher followed me in and closed the door.

#orc #space invaders #space orc #terato #exophilia

80 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 4 years

Text

06/14/2020 DAB Transcript

1 Kings 12:20-13:34, Acts 9:26-43, Psalms 132:1-18, Proverbs 17:6

Today is the 14th day of June welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is awesome to be here with you around the Global Campfire as we twist the knob and step into a new week together just being aware that it's out in front of us. And here we are in the middle of a month and what a joy, what a gift it is to be here. I mean, we may have all kinds of things going on in our lives, some of them good, some of them challenging, but…and even if everything is challenging, what gift to be…like when we step back from the circumstance and we step back from the swirl of it all the that kinda wants to suck us into the vortex and right down the tube. When we step back away from all that all…all of that and realize, I'm here, this is a gift, these breathes that I'm taking, these are the breath of life. I'm here because God created and allowed me to be here. What a joy it is to begin this new week with you and work through it together. So, yesterday we started the slide downward in the Old Testament. King Solomon, the wise one, passed away, died after having his heart seduced away from the one true God, and to many of the gods of this wives. He had 700 wives and 300 concubines. That's a lot of ladies with a lot of voices from a lot of places and ultimately, Solomon was seduced. He died. His son Rehoboam became king in his place at his coronation where all the tribes are coming together to ratify his kingship. Things don't go well. 10 of the tribes have decided they will no longer have an allegiance to the house of David, which means that…I mean things are looking like this United people, the Hebrew people have decided they don't want to be united anymore. So, we’re in a brand-new week. We’ll read from the New Living Translation this week. First Kings chapter 12 verse 20 through 13 verse 34.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and we thank You for bringing us into this brand-new, shiny, sparkly week. And we mark this time, we honor it. It’s a bit of our custom when we come to the beginning of a new week to just observe the fact that it's…it's out in front of us. We’re here. You have brought us to this point. All of our history has brought us to this point, but the rest of this week is out in front of us. It has yet to be written. The story has yet to be told. It will be told by the choices that we make and we invite Your Holy Spirit to lead us and direct us in the days ahead, and to inform us by Your word, as we engage, as we come around the Global Campfire every day this week and take the next step forward. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, it's always been, always will be...I guess…I don't know. Who knows where the future leads and where technology leads, but it's been home base for a long time. It’s the one place that we all can get to because we’re all over the world. And, so it’s a place to find out what’s going on, it's a place to find resources for the journey that we are on in the Shop. It’s a place to get connected in the Community section. It’s a place to pray for each other. So, stay tuned. Stay connected in any way that you can.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you for your partnership beyond words. That's true, beyond words. I've used all the words that I know in my vocabulary of gratitude that we are…that we even are here able to take the journey together. It's awe-inspiring. So, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is the number to dial or you can just hit the Hotline button, the little red button at the top and begin to share from there.

And that is it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey __ in South Carolina this your brother Ben in Columbus Ohio. I heard your testimony today and I just wanted to thank you so much for calling in today, for calling in and leaving your testimony. I haven’t personally lost children but just the message that you shared, that you heard from God, the fact that you’ve heard from God and that was so clearly from God. I needed to hear that today. And there’s just something…something about your voice. I don’t know what it was __ but I just feel connected to you. I feel like you are my sister and…and you also feel so different. I’m a 42-year-old man in Ohio, right? But there’s just something where I feel…I feel my forever family connection with you. And so thankful…so thankful you called in. I’m so thankful I got to hear your voice. God bless you.

That the Lord is faithful He will strengthen and guard you from the evil one. Heavenly Father I pray for brother Ruben in Burma. I pray that You will strengthen him and his family and the workers who are spreading the good news in Burma by the power of Your might oh God. Clothe them in Your armor so that they can stand firm against the schemes of the devil. We know that their struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Father, I pray that she would shelter the Burmese Christians in the shadow of Your wing. When life is hard help them remember that You are with them and that they are never alone. Thank You that You are the good Shepherd. Lead each of these dear ones beside still waters. Restore their souls. Thank You, Lord that You remain faithful. And for the dear lady in Spain who is struggling. Oh Lord, I felt her desperation. She is trembling, she is feeling weak. Yet You remain faithful for You are a good Father. She is in a difficult situation Lord and I sense that her faith is wearing thin. We reach out to You Father and ask You to meet every need. Give her the courage to cast every care on You. Your word promises that You will supply all our needs according to Your riches in glory. So, we stand together in this community and ask You to intervene. Thank You that You are a God that hears the cries of Your children and thank You that the answer is on its way. We leave these dear ones in Your hands. To You be all the praise and honor and glory. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Melody Faith from Canada. Love you family.

Good morning DAB family this is the other Melanie. It’s June 9th and I am calling in with a prayer request. I don’t know why I find it so hard to do this, to ask for prayer for myself, but I am going to add myself to the list of all the people who have called in asking for help with weight loss. And I agree, it does seem insignificant or certainly much smaller than a lot of the other things that people need prayer for. But for me, after having had two breast cancer diagnoses in the last three years, this is…it’s critical that I lose weight. And I had been doing really well __. And I’m a stress eater and it just made everything worse and I really have not coped very well. And added to that is shame because I feel like I should have done better, I should’ve leaned on the Lord and…and prayed and done all the things that I know to do as a Christian. And I know that all these thoughts of shame do not come from God. But it’s a battle, it is such a battle, and this is such a stronghold for me. So, family I just pray that you would lift me up in your prayers for strength. If anybody else out there wants to join with me, please email me my address is [email protected]. I would be so happy to walk this road with someone else who’s feeling the same struggle. I love you guys and thank you so much.

Hey this is Melody from Canada. I was just listening to the June 9th podcast and a couple things. Cherry thank you so much for your prayer about sleep. I really need it. My whole family needs it. Our toddler daughter is waking up a few times in the night and…yeah…I really receive that prayer in faith for…for her to sleep well and us…for my husband and I to sleep well. It’s hard doing a dayshift and a night shift. So, yeah, we’re really trying to problem solve and trust God with that. So, thank you for the prayer. Also, Vincent from Connecticut who was calling to ask for prayer about loneliness. That is…that is so significant. I’m…I’m so grateful for my husband and daughter because I don’t do very well alone. And I just pray God’s blessing on you and that you would…yeah…that you would receive the gift of relationship in God’s timing and God’s way. I was just thinking about what Brian was saying about Psalm 127. And I pray that God will build the home and family that he has for you and that he would be your strength in this time. And for all people who are alone right now, especially during COVID. And it’s hard to socially distance. It’s super hard. Yeah, just extra grace for those who are living on their own. Love you. Bye.

Marla Forgiven by the Savior this is Adrian from Maryland. I am praying for you. I have seen your request on Facebook, I have heard your request on…on Brian’s podcast. I’ve heard your request on China’s podcast. I know you’re suffering now, and I am praying for you, I’m praying for you, I am praying for you. Lord, please take care of Marla. Get her the medication she needs and help her survive this terrible, horrible disease of bipolar disorder. My…I…I know someone who suffers from mental illness and it is a horrible, horrible thing. Please, please just hang in there. The shipment of medication will come. God will take care of you. Please hang in there for…for…just hang on. We all love you and we are praying for you. Many people who are not going to call in, they are also praying for you. Please hang on. We love you.

Hi DAB family this is Marla forgiven by the Savior from Albuquerque and I’m listening to the June 10th podcast and I just heard my prayer request and I’m happy to report that my doctor called me on Monday to let me know the samples had come in. And this was right after I posted on DAB Friends with the same prayer request because I figured it would get you guys faster. And right after I posted it and everyone started praying for me, that’s when I got the phone call. So, I wanted to let you know that…yeah…I have the pills now. And it takes a while for them to kick in, but I am very much looking forward to the day when I wake up feeling like my normal self. If you could pray for me that…excuse me…that my bipolar depression does get lifted sooner rather than later, I would really appreciate it. And hopefully I will call in with a praise report very soon. I love you all more than you know, and God bless.

Hey DAB family, Alicia here from Pennsylvania. I’ve been listening and thinking and praying for a couple of people. Some man who called in about being diagnosed I think with pancreatic cancer last week. I just want to lift him up Lord and a few others. Lord You know their names and You know their…their prayers Lord. DAB family, I don’t usually ask for prayer for myself, but I do feel called to ask for some prayer. I am trying to move out of my comfort zone in a few different ways. One of them in trying to speak to friends of friends who make racist jokes that make me really uncomfortable. Lord, I just pray that You give me the words to say. And we know that if anybody can help them or change their minds that it’s You Lord and You alone. So, please if You want to use me as a vessel as a…as a facilitator for change Lord I am open and receptive to whatever You have to put in front of me Lord. I thank You for all the support that You’ve given me in these endeavors and I just thank You for that. Lord, I want to pray about my relationships in general. And please just help me to be able to find myself in a way that I can be complete with only You Lord and not rely on the people for energy. Lord, You know my issues and You know my prayers, You know my heart. Please just be with me, help me to accept You as Lord, as Him. Please if there’s any DAB…

1 note · View note

revesvagabond · 4 years

Text

Needed to get thoughts out of my head

TW/CW: VENT

I feel really, really pathetic.

I get that life is full of challenges and especially in schoolwork/projects you’ll hit obstacles frequently, but I am so weak-willed I crumble like a soggy-ass ritz cracker every. damn. time.

I also have this fucked up mindset where I can’t ask for help with things I’m genuinely struggling with?? I think a huge chunk of it is because I’ve created this illusion of myself to other people that I know what I’m talking about and that I’m of average or higher intelligence when really I am Stupid.

I mean, that’s a partially self-deprecating statement, but I really don’t know what’s going on at any given moment and there’s nothing I excel at.

Logical intelligence holds so much worth to me and I have very little of it. I used to scream and cry at the dining room table when I was little because I just Could Not Understand shit like why 7*3 = 21.

And like, there are very few things in this world that make it worth living to me and space (which then evolved into physics/cosmology when I actually had to decide what to do with my life) had breathed life into me and as I sit here struggling to get by it breaks my heart to consider the possibility of dropping out of school and giving up my pursuit in physics.

If I give up physics I have nothing to live for. And I Don’t Want That. But the last three semesters of school have been so fucking hard for me. Last Fall I spent most of my time crying in my professor’s office because I was stressed out of my fucking mind and could not understand how to do shit in QM and GR. And that was only when he would highly encourage me to go during office hours or when I had to hand in late-ass, not-even-half-completed homework because I refuse to ask for help when the only question I have is “How do I do this?” for EVERYTHING.

I was and am still missing so much fundamental understanding of the math that physics is heavily based on. How the hell am I supposed continue in academia post-undergrad???

Like I should know this shit. I’ve taken the classes. But I don’t remember anything.

I never learned to study. I am forever cursed with the struggling to understand math/problem-solving/applying concepts.

I just got diagnosed with ADHD like 13 months ago and 5 of those months was spent in a crisis that I should have admitted myself for because I was Not Okay at all. I don’t think I’m all that okay now either. It’s hard trying to do anything, but on the surface at least? I’m more okay than I was in december.

Like, I’m not as intelligent as I want to be and I’m stuck having to break down essentially 20 years of habits, thought patterns, and teach myself how to do everything I never learned how to do in my most fundamental years of development.

It’s my last year of school too and I’ve overloaded for the semester--because otherwise I will not be able to graduate next spring and I’m not going into a field that pays all that well and I do not have the money to pay for another semester of school after that--and I just know I won’t be able to handle it. I’m tired all the fucking time and I get tension headaches or pseudo headaches idfk just trying to force myself to do shit. Which I don’t because I always get overwhelmed and stuck within the first five minutes that it’s almost painful to do anything!!!!!

And like, my professors think I know shit, and one of my peers (and my EM professor!!!!!) straight up said I understand but have zero self-confidence, which like, yes I do have zero self-confidence but none of y’all understand that I’ve gone thru this routine time and time again where I think I can do something and I try to remain optimistic but then I try to do it and I can’t. Or I think I did it and it’s absolutely wrong. I have not seen a single display of success in physics in over a year (I’m not counting the exam my prof said i need to be more confident on because it was open-note and i still didn’t understand jack shit)

I’m just SO TIRED of being a weakass bitch. Can this Neptune energy just fuck off???? This transiting ass celestial body is conjunct my sun, opposite my ascendant, and square my mc

I don’t know whats real anymore

Anyway its 3am and i hate myself because im suffering the impending embarrassment of having to tell my research advisor in the morning that, yes, i took the required intro compsci course (java) 2 years ago, but no, i didnt learn shit in that class and i literally dont know what to fucking do with the immensely generous starting chunk of script u gave me and i don’t know shit about c++ and i really want to give up because theres no way in hell im going to have the mental capacity to write a fucking paper on this

fuck this shit, why is the only thing im willing to do in life is the one thing my brain is inherently flawed in understanding

i want to be a god damn theorist for fucks sake. a dumbass theorist who cant do math without crying

#vent #tw vent #do not reblog #i had 2 cups of coffee at 9 #did not help prevent a meltdown

1 note · View note

futurewriter2000 · 5 years

Text

Schemes ~ Letter to James

A/N: Wooh! I finally finished this letter. And I thought I’d put Remus’ letter first but this just lead to James first. OH MY I’M SO excited about this becasue the cliffhanger on the end. I just want to leave it all to the next two letters hehehehheheh. Okay, I’ll shut up now. Just read it :D

‘ Dear James,

I’ve wanted to write to you first and I think you don’t need to ask why as you have been the first. The first I truly loved, truly felt the emotion of love that has slowly faded through time. In many ways, I have wanted to tell you how much you meant to me but your Lilyflower was the one who was close to not only your’s but my heart as well. I couldn’t do something as awful to her and make you doubt your love for her.

You know me as someone who has never been serious about her life but the truth was you never knew what my life truly was, to begin with. We have made our bad memories as well as good.

The first time we became friends was also the first time we became more than friends. The evening where I was stressing myself for the exam and you got me drunk and in bed instead. Sure, it really was better than the time I landed on top of you while we were running away from those disgusting monsters in the Forbidden Forest. The only difference was that I got a special name from you that night.

You thought you were annoying by calling me that but I really loved it when you did. Because every time you called me by that name, all that was in my head was the touch of your skin and the kisses from your lips. Cliche? Romantic? Poetic? Well, you know me James, always keen on trying out new things. Though that wasn’t the only thing that ran through my mind because the memory that made me forget all those happy moments was the expression on your face when you have realized that your father wasn’t the one whom you thought he was. I have felt horrible when you had to find out by me. I’m sorry about that. Truly.

I guess in everything that I have wanted to say was thank you for those memories, bad and good. You were a challenge to scheme against to but you were also somebody whom I fell for deeply.

I wish you all the best in the world, James and don’t bother reading this to your roommates. This letter is for your eyes and your eyes only. Knowing I was better at Charms that your arse ever was, you wouldn’t dare to try and prove me otherwise.

Love, your Sparkles. ‘

James read the letter again and again. His fingers held the parchment gently and carefully and his smile appeared and faded. But the words that truly could make his heart bleed tears was the last three on the bottom of the letter; ‘Love, your Sparkles.‘

To feel the grief he hasn’t felt when you died, to feel the joy when he found out you didn’t... The complex of his emotions at the very moment was detonating. One wrong move, word or thought and he would break just as his best friend before.

If what you wrote in the letter was true and honest, sincere - then the emotions he was feeling at this very moment were that as well. To finally realize he has been feeling deeply for you too and to know how much he took for granted when he had the chance.

It was as if he was in the center and everything around him, the memories, the feelings, the moments and objects, even his friends’ voices, their words, your words... they were spinning around him, creating unstable chaos inside of him.

---

He has found it. Where everything for him began. The Forest. There. Right there at the tree where a pile of sparkles was stuck, due to the resin that the coniferous tree produced.

He stood in front of it, holding the letter in one hand while the other pressed itself on the trunk of the tree.

‘ “Oi,(y/n)!” He shouted after the only person who was around the corner he came from.

She turned around with an irritated expression, snapping at him. “What is it now, Potter.“

He could notice the soft red colour on her cheeks as if she was blushing but the attitude he was receiving from her wasn’t giving him the same message. "Have you perhaps seen anybody running here?”

“Perhaps, I did.” She replied, an impish smirk stretching on the corner of her mouth.

“ Do you know where he went?”

“In the matter of fact I did and he’s standing right next to you.” She looked over at Sirius and winked. “I heard about Lilly and you. Nice move.” ... ‘

He simpered at the first meeting, the first moment when everything was starting itself. “ If we only knew back then where everything would lead.”

‘ He was storming to the Gryffindor tower not even hearing the whistles and the remarks of the students he passed. He climbed through the portrait hole, catching the roll of his own hazel eyes before they widened at him.

She was wearing his robes, his shoes and his face yet her own Slytherin tie. And there again, was the same playful quirk of the corner of her mouth. “ I like the skirt, Potter. It shows your legs. “

He could feel the embarrassment and the indignation that she caused him to feel. The emotions he disliked the most yet there you were, making them heavier and heavier to carry. “You!” he growled, breathing heavily.

Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice yet her mouth kept their form same.“ James, buddy.”

“ You’re so dead!” ... ‘

The most embarrassing moment in his whole Hogwarts experience. How can he ever forget that memory when it’s stuck so clearly in his head; Two James’ running around the common room, surely everybody knew which one was which...

‘ He had her pinned against the floor yet her arms were still trying to fight him off. Sooner or later her laughing took away all the energy for her to fight and he had finally succeeded in catching her. “ Finally!” he shouted triumphantly.

Yet she didn’t stop laughing, nor the three boys in the room who kept watching the chase happening in front of their eyes.

“ I’m not even sorry.” she continued to laugh, breathing heavily beneath him.

And it was gone. The fury, the indignation, and the embarrassment... it was gone and he realized that all of this... was just a laugh. So, instead of creating any more troubles as he would usually do, he started laughing as well. ‘

The first time he forgave someone for taking away his pride.

And if he thinks back at the sight you and Remus taking a snooze in the Forbidden Forest when spring started to bloom and you had your (y/h/c) let down, spread on the bright green grass... he sure wanted to be in his place that moment at the time but he never thought about that as much as he did now. The first time he wanted to be in Remus’ shoes instead of his own because you have been so amazing to be with and to know Remus always had you... it was making him feel more than the jealousy of it.

‘ “ Oi! Sparkles!” He slammed the door and made his way in the room, looking around for any trace of glitter and seeing them lead to the bathroom.

“James?! The hell are you doing in my dorm?” a shout came behind those doors and he let out a chuckle.

“ I’m bored. ” he laughed and threw himself on one of the beds, marveling the Slythering style. He heard the pipe run yet the attention that surely was worth his while was the Quidditch trophies on the shelves. “ Slytherins do love their achievements.” he mumbled under his breath and tried to put the object back in its place but instead it fell through his fingers and hit the floor.

“ Don’t touch anything.” the door opened and she was glaring at him.

He laughed and put the trophy in its rightful place. “ I didn’t expect the Slytherin house to be so comfy.” He patted the sheets on your bed and jumped a few times. “ And the sheets are so soft.” he marveled as he continued to brush his hands against the white sheets.

“ What are you doing here, James? I really have to study for tomorrows test.” she chided at him and harshly grabbed the books in her hands, sitting on the bed opposite of him.

He was surprised by her sudden change of mood. Usually, she was relaxed and goofy but at this very moment, she was completely on the edge. Was this only the stress or was he seeing the true side of you? What was it?

“ Well, since Remus is tutoring Peter, Sirius is out doing God knows what, I decided to pay you a visit. ” he lied, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

“And since when are we friends?” she crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Didn’t that bonding in the Forbidden Forrest mean nothing to you?” ..... ‘

He didn’t mean that night to take the path that it did but he would be lying if he said it was a mistake. Being with you that night, on the bleachers and in bed...

‘ He caught her with the red-head and slowly made his way towards her. The only thing he has been wanting to do since he caught his eye on you was to kiss you again- to have you in his arms one more time.

“ I know you for years, (Y/n). You can’t lie to me especially with that glow on you shinning so brightly.” he heard Lilly and the only thing he could do was smile at her sentence.“ Tell me. Who was it? Was it Sirius? Remus? “

‘All the wrong guesses.’ he thought and sat next to her.

“ Yeah, Sparkles. Who was it? I bet he wasn’t as handsome as me.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, resisting an urge to kiss your confused expression.

She was looking at him, her expression staying the same yet her eyes switching their gaze at him as if she had many things to say yet she did not say anything at all.

“ Bog off, Potter.” sneered Lilly at him but he only glanced at the girl in his arms and smirked.

“ But I want to know how was Sparkles’ first time. Was he cute? Good? Great? Fantastic?” he winked at her and he could see the soft red colour appear on his cheeks. This time he was sure she was blushing.

Yet it took her a moment before she pushed his arm away and plastered the famous devilish smile. “ To be honest, he could have lasted a bit longer.” she winked and brushed that smirk off his lips. ‘

“ We both knew you were lying about that.” he chuckled, sitting down against the tree and smiling at it.

‘ He saw the tears that caused his heart to ache but instead of doing what she wanted him to, he stood up and walked towards the door.“ I would have chosen you! “ she shouted behind him.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

There she was. The eyes he adored yet they were broken and they did nothing but break his heart in him as well. So he couldn’t look at you and so he reached for the doorknob, wanting to walk away already.

“ You were my first, James. I trusted you and- and… I honestly thought we could be more.” her voice started to show desperation, almost as if she begged for him to turn around and tell her he was lying. Kiss her hard and passionately as he did that perfect night. If he was honest with himself he didn’t want that. He wanted to run to her and hug her so tightly until she stopped crying. To hold her, either in silence or if she screamed at him, he still would want to hold her.

Instead, he turned his back at her. “ I’m sorry. “ was the only words he said before opening the door and walking through it.

“ You’re a prick, James Potter! “ she shouted from behind and caused him to stop once again. “ It was a mistake sharing a bed with you. I wish I’d never met you.” she spat out coldly, lying to him as much as she lied to herself.

He stopped. For a moment. He stopped only for a moment to think it all over again before making the final decision. And apparently, leaving was the right one for him.

Not a word. Not a single glance. He just left. ‘

“ I’m really was sorry back then.” he mumbled and starting to bend the edge on his letter.

‘ Her fingers were interlaced and his big hand seemed to fit perfectly with her. His black hair was messy, scattered all over the white pillow. His eyes matched his smile and the light which shone on his growing stubble has made him look almost heavenly. “ You’re beautiful. “ he spoke soft and gently, pulling her hand closer and kissing her knuckles.

A blush appeared on her cheeks after hearing his words leave his lips. The two used to hate each other since the moment both became a Chaser on their own team. Rival houses, rival Chasers and here the two of them were, fooling around.

Caressing his cheek, she didn’t say a single word and only let her finger wander across his sharp jawline. He leaned forward and her hand snaked around his neck, pulling him closer. It was a simple kiss but at that point, it seemed to be the most wonderful of them all. It was perfect. ‘

James felt his lips tremble almost thinking he was about to cry at the moment from thinking about everything.

‘ “James?” she said in worry yet he was in no position to care.

He was so furious with you, ready to make you pay for your dull actions. “ I didn’t tell you this because I was afraid of your reaction but since I love you like a brother I need to tell you.”

“ James.” he heard her warn him but this time but he only gave her a glance and turned back to Sirius.“ So, remember the night I didn’t spend in our dorm?”

“Yeah. The secret girl you don’t want to tell me about.” Sirius grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at James.

“ Well, Sparkles is that secret girl.” .... ‘

“ GOD! I WAS SUCH A PRICK!” he shouted on top of his lungs and the sound of his voice echoed through the whole Forbidden Forest. He was laying on his back by now, his letter crumbled in his hand.

‘ “ What situation? “

“ Just get this mucus off of me! “

“ Mucus?! I’m not a snail to produce mucus! “ he spoke quite offended by her comment, but she only grinned at him and wiped it against his tux. “ Fine. “ he didn’t even bother to step away, just tilted his head back and sighed. “ Can you please tell me about the situation or I will lose it. “

He just wanted to know. He had a gut feeling that whatever this situation was, it sure wasn’t any of the fun or harmless she used to get into. He just knew that whatever it was, it made sure to take the usual glow in your eyes disappear and the absence of it, made him care.

“ Please, Sparkles. “

“ Why are you so eager to know? “ she asked him instead and the next words that came out of his mouth were not even thought twice before he said them.

“ Because...”

“ Because? “

“ Can’t you just tell me? “

“ Can’t you just answer me? “

“ You are so stubborn. “

“ And you’re a dick. Glad we cleared things up. “

“ Ugh! No! “ he shouted instead and stormed back to the party. He had enough of this. Why would he ever want to know about her when he clearly is in love with Lilly. He stopped a few feet away from the cabinet, pondering and contemplating what he was about to do. So the next thing he remembered was storming back inside. “ You know what! Yes! “ he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her.

And he didn’t know why he was doing this. He didn’t know why he loved when you did nothing but kiss him back and pulled him deeper into the kiss. And no matter of it, he knew this was right. Just right. ...’

The Malfoy Gala. Of course, how could he ever forget?

He chuckled to himself and opened the crumbled ball he held in his hand, reading the last words once again; ‘ Love, your Sparkles. ‘

“ I don’t regret that though.” he chuckled and smiled up at the stars where they reminded him of his worst memory yet.

‘ hazel.

‘’ Our night spent together should never have happened. It complicated things. I told you I never saw it as a mistake and I still don’t see it as one. You gave me one of the best nights possible but that is all that it was. What there is between us is just chemistry. I felt something towards you but I realized I only craved the memories of that night. It’s chemistry, James, and that is all. You’re in love with Lilly. The way you look at her or the way your eyes glow at her smile. You love her James so why did you ever bother with me.” ...‘

“ It wasn’t just chemistry with you, Sparkles.” he spoke to the stars, a tear escaping his eye. “ I bothered with you because I just couldn’t let you go. You were just someone so unique, so wonderful and positive. When I was with you I felt like I was floating. “ tears fell from the corners of his eyes, his hands pressing the letter harder against his chest. “ You said you were sorry when I should be the one who was supposed to be telling you those words. I just wish you were here so I could tell you what I have on my mind as well.”

“ Well, why don’t you?”

His eyes opened as wide as they ever did. His feet have never picked him up as fast as they did and before his arms could realize they were holding you once again.

The hold of you. How perfectly you fit together.

“ I’m so sorry.” he spoke before he could think, his mind taking him places of joy as well as guilt, yet the only thing that kept returning was that you were here, now, with him. “ Oh my God. How did you know I’d be here?” he placed his hands under your jaw and kept looking you through the tears that continued to fall from his eyes.

“ Well, it wasn’t really hard to figure out who shouted “ God! I was such a prick!” Through the whole forest. And you still are, country boy.” you smiled and he laughed.

“ God! Why? Why did you obliviate us?”

“ Thought I should practice the spell more. I see I have to work on -”

“ Don’t do that!” he pulled you in another hug and held you against himself. “ Do you know what you put me through.”

“ Oh.” you scoffed, pulling away and crossing your arms over your chest. “ You know what you put me through?” you quirked an eyebrow.

James stared for a while and took a while to respond to your question, which he knew the answer but didn’t want to say it out loud. “ You- What happened exactly? I mean why did you have to die?”

“ Like I said in the letter James: You know me as someone who has never been serious about her life but the truth was you never knew what my life truly was, to begin with. “

“ So, you’re struggling?”

“ Everybody is struggling, James and with my death-” you looked down at yourself and tapped the side of your body. “ Well...resurrection- Is it resurrection? To be honest, I don’t know what happened so clearly as well.” you laughed and felt everything resurface. Every single emotion, the pain of the past, the guilt as you tried to focus on his hazel eyes. “ Uhm- I- James- that -” you couldn’t make the words combine in a sentence but the eyes shed tears and your mouth let out a sob.

“ Hey-shhh.” he took you in his arms and you cried, gripping his shirt. “ What’s wrong?”

“ It hurt so much.” you cried as you remember the last moments before your death. To watch in those eyes you used to know, to feel betrayed, to obliviate yourself from the minds of those who were close to your heart... And everything led to this moment.

But he didn’t say a word and only held you in his own embrace, kissing your head.

“ Ugh!” you moved away and wiped the tears from your cheeks, placing a smile and focusing your eyes on the velvet sky. “ Dying sucked. “ you let out a short laugh. “ Definitely wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.” you looked at him and his mouth twisted in a simper. “ Cheer up, Country boy.” you playfully punched his shoulder and laughed.

“ We’re still on that?”

“ Nicknames? “ you smirked and laid on your back, your eyes fixated on the view above you. “ Can’t deny the truth, can you now? Our whole relationship started on nicknames.”

“ Actually, it started on you turning into Sirius and kissing Evans.” he laid beside you yet his eyes weren’t focused on the stars.

You’ve felt his eyes. It was like as it was before, back in the past you were so determined to leave behind. You could feel his touch even though he wasn’t touching you, his breath against your skin even if the proximity was far from big.

“ Are you still with Lily?” you asked, turning your head that both of your eyes locked with eachother's.

“ I don’t know where I stand with Lily anymore since you came back. To be honest, when the memories came back, the rush of emotions and thoughts you took away made me wonder what happened to us. There was always more of you and Sirius. Since all this started, there was more you and him than me and you. And maybe the fact that you and he always had more than we ever had, made me so angry at you because I really liked you as well - a lot. I liked you a lot. “ he sat up, moving his eyes on the earth in front of him. “ I don’t know, (y/n). When I found out you died. When I got my memories back and then realized you were dead...you know what went through my mind?” he turned around. “ I thought that everything I did- to you... to put you through so much because I just had this need of being a prick and I had to be the worst kind to you. Because you were a Slytherin and me loving a Slytherin was just an impossible combination for me. I just couldn’t believe that I would ever betray myself like that and so instead I denied everything and I turned on you- and betrayed you. So the thought that really went inside my head was actually the guilt that everything I have done to you and yet, I never got to say how sorry I was for putting you through that.”

“ Wow.” was the only reaction you could get yourself to express. “ You- you loved me?”

“ What? I wouldn’t really say-”

“ You said because I was a Slytherin and you loving a Slytherin was just an impossible combination for you. “ you sat close to him, trying to read his expression.

“ Didn’t- didn’t I say like-” he tried to speak but you shook your head in denial and he took a deep breath. “ Okay... say that I did love you and that I do think of you more than I should be. Would you be with me? Would you choose me?”

185 notes · View notes

davidfarland · 5 years

Text

Read until the end for updates on upcoming writing courses and a special preview of my Serpent Catch series Book 1.

***

I often say that “Writing is easy, but writing beautifully is hard.” At least for me, I can sit down and put words on paper quickly and enjoy myself, but when I’m really working at telling a story on multiple levels, when I’m writing something that I know will be read by millions of people, when I’m struggling to be original and break out of cliché actions and wording, then the writing gets hard.

Yesterday I was working on a screenplay. Now, I haven’t written a lot of screenplays, but when you’re working on a project that you know could have millions of viewers and you’re struggling to launch a new film series, it really can slow you down. If you have that problem, here are some ways to speed up your writing.

Learn the basics of your medium. A person who is unsure how to use quotation marks or doesn’t know screenplay format will be more hesitant. Words and punctuation are the tools of your trade, so you need to learn how to use them.

Know where the story is going. If you understand who your characters are and what incidents are going to happen—in other words, if you’re prepared—the story itself seems to create its own energy and will hurry you along.

Make writing a habit. As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it, “That which we persist in doing becomes easier, not that the nature of the task has changed, but our ability to do has increased.” As you write on a daily basis, your brain forms new neural connections that let you craft your work more quickly, almost automatically, while your subconscious begins to focus on the task even in your sleep, so that when you sit down to write, you’re ready to write.

Focus on the work, not the distractions. Find the writing conditions that work best for you. For example, I have a favorite writing chair, a favorite laptop, and even a couple of spots in the house that work best for me. I know what kind of drink I want next to my writing chair, and I know which background music will distract me and which might energize me.

Eliminate fears. Don’t set your heart on winning awards and don’t worry about what critics will say. Many critics seem to speak out of jealousy. Extremely popular writers tend to get savaged. I recall when Stephen King got his first big deal and I heard some horror writers talking about how he was undeserving and “couldn’t write his way out of a paper bag.” So I read his work and felt surprised when I found him to be excellent. I heard the same criticisms against J.K. Rowling, John Grisham, Stephanie Meyer, and others. My message to young writers who criticize others for having the same kind of success that they wish to enjoy: Get your stupid butt in gear!

Remember that your first draft is just that, a first draft. Give yourself permission to get it done quickly. You can worry about perfecting your prose in the rewrites. Don’t compare your first draft to others’ finished drafts.

Stay in focus. Give yourself reasonably long blocks of time to write. Some people write at lightning speed, but most people find that it takes a bit of time to get warmed up.

Keep it fun. Stressing out just slows you down.

***

Sign ups for my online classes, the Advanced Story Puzzle and Writing Enchanting Prose, are now available at MyStoryDoctor.com. Both classes are $449 each and include weekly conference calls and I will also be giving feedback on your writing. Classes start August 24th which is also the last day to register. Each course will run for 10 weeks.

I recently spoke on the Legendarium Podcast, and discussed "Enders Game,". If you are curious about it, you can listen to the podcast here.

The Serpent Catch Book 1 will be available for $.99 on Amazon Kindle for the next 3 days only. You can read chapter 1 here as a special sneak peak into the series. If you are interested in reading more, you can buy the book on Amazon here.

Chapter 1: Night Watch

Tull felt teeth pierce his ankle, each tooth as sharp as flint, and heard bones crunching. Dimly he realized that it was dark, that he heard the growl of a great lizard. He kicked at the beast, struggling to rouse from his slumber.

“Yaagh,” he called. Most dinosaurs in Hotland were afraid of men, and he hoped that his shout would startle whatever had seized him.

Fully awake, he realized that it was only a strong hand that held his ankle.

His good friend Ayuvah laughed at the joke. “Shitha!” Get up, Ayuvah said in the soft-nasal language of the Neanderthal, or Pwi, as they called themselves. “Tchima-zho, sepala-pi fe.” I finish gladly, and take joy in my coming sleep.

Tull looked up into Ayuvah’s face and blinked to clear his vision. The great moon Thor was up, a green-blue monstrosity in the sky, and though it was only a quarter full, Tull could see the young Neanderthal man well in its surface.

The warm night air around camp smelled thick with the scent of leatherwood honey. Tree frogs whistled in the darkness beyond the edge of the Neanderthals’ little wooden fortress. Out across the plains, two male blue-crested hadrosaurs, with their long necks and duckbills, bellowed challenges to one another as they vied for a mate. The dinosaurs had been going at it solid for three days now in the valley below.

It must have been their calls that disturbed my sleep, Tull thought, and made me dream of predators. He felt glad that the honey harvest was almost finished. The hadrosaurs’ mating challenges had drawn a tyrannosaur into the valley earlier in the day. Ayuvah had killed it with his spear, but more would follow. Soon they would hike to the ship and sail back home to Smilodon Bay.

Tull pulled off his blanket and stretched. Ayuvah handed him the telescope, along with a war horn made from the horn of an aurochs, then went to pick at the stew beside the fire.

“Adja, I fear,” Ayuvah warned quietly. Because he did not say how much he feared, he meant that he was afraid of something unspecific. Seven other Pwi slept quietly around the camp, none of them snoring. The fire had burned down to red coals that glowed like malevolent eyes.

“What do you fear?” Tull asked softly.

“There is much movement in the valley tonight. The hadrosaurs are mating, and I saw two sailfin carnosaurs come up from the swamp. Many smaller dinosaurs are milling about, creatures that have been flushed from the woods. And I saw something else, I think,” Ayuvah said, thoughtfully. “I believe I saw a lantern shining down by the wide spot in the river. But it was far away—and after a minute it went out.”

“Perhaps it was only a will-o-wisp,” Tull said hopefully. The swamp gases along the river sometimes vented at night.

Ayuvah shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Egg raiders?” Tull asked.

Only humans or Neanderthals would make fire, and few dared travel in this part of the world. Many young Pwi crossed the ocean at one time or another to steal dinosaur eggs in Hotland. Back on their home continent of Calla, the sailors paid well for the eggs, then sold them in distant ports to those who were foolish enough to hatch them just to see what kind of monster came out.

Ayuvah shook his head. “It is too late for egg raiders. Autumn will soon be here. I do not think that they would be Pwi. My kin will be going home to take in the harvest.”

The Neanderthal was right. Only Scandal the Gourmet, with his love for leatherwood honey, paid men well enough to work in Hotland in this season.

“Besides,” Ayuvah said. “Egg raiders would not hunt at night.”

Tull hesitated to say his next word. “Slavers?”

“Maybe,” Ayuvah said, nodding. “Twenty Pwi down from Wellen’s Eyes went out on egg raid last spring—and none returned. Slavers could have captured them.”

“I’ve never heard of slavers coming to Hotland,” Tull said, but he wondered. Over the past several years, the predations of the Craal slavers had increased. Some Pwi even said that it was time to flee Calla to make a new home in Hotland, where the slavers would hesitate to follow.

Because Ayuvah’s words made him nervous, Tull put on his war gear. He pulled a lacquered leather vest made of iguanodon hide over his naked chest, and sheathed his kutow, a double-headed battle ax, at his belt. He took his wooden spear and war shield, and slung the aurochs horn around his neck.

The fortress here was hidden. It was little more than rocks and a few poles bound together among some trees near the edge of a small pool.

His guard post was halfway up a large dead leatherwood tree, its ancient branches just high enough so that a man, resting in their gnarled crook, could survey the valley.

From the tree, Tull could see the plains all around. Though vegetation was trampled and sparse, a herd of two hundred triceratopses, each forty feet long, fed on shrubs in the dark grassland to the north. Leatherwood forests covered a row of hills to the east, and upon one hill two miles away, a small fire burned in a tree at the edge of the deep woods. Tull pulled the telescope from its case and studied the tree.

Denni and Tchar, two fourteen-year-old Neanderthals camped by the hollow leatherwood, smoking the honey bees into a stupor. A brazier hung beneath a hive by a chain. In the firelight, Tull could see blond-haired Denni coaxing the fire while Tchar slept. Good boy, Tull thought, to be so diligent. I’ll have to remember to congratulate him in the morning.

Iguanodons, huge and gray in the moonlight, feasted near the boys on the last of summer’s leaves. They were herd animals, large enough to scare off most smaller predators, alert enough to warn if something truly dangerous approached.

Good, Tull thought. The boys will be safe so long as the iguanodons stay near. Tull turned his spyglass off to the west, down to the wide spot in the river. Ayuvah was right. The brush was thick with movement. Too many dinosaurs were out, and they milled nervously through the brush, spooking at the smallest sound.

Tull studied the area. If someone had been down at the river carrying a lantern, then he might have seen the boys’ fire burning in the leatherwood tree when he came round the river’s bend. If the man were a slaver, he would then douse his lantern and sneak along the brush line like a wolf in the dark.

Tull wondered: if a dozen men crept through the brush by the river in the moonlight, would they scare the dinosaurs this much?

He wasn’t sure. A dozen allosaurs on the prowl, that would certainly scare the smaller animals into the open. If passing men made a lot of noise, they might scare the smaller animals, too. Tull turned a full circle, studied the plains carefully. In the moonlight, with his telescope, he could see well enough to feel secure.

A dozen small oviraptors broke into the open, scurrying from the brush near the hills. He focused on the spot, but could see nothing in the trees.

Tull hissed through his teeth, fingered his war horn. Whatever had frightened them was close to the boys. Tchar and Denni were young, and if they got into trouble, they might not have the presence of mind to get themselves out. Yet Tull could not blow the war horn without revealing his position.

Should I warn them, he wondered, about something that might be nothing? Anything could have scared the oviraptors.

Below him at the pond, the tree frogs abruptly quit whistling as someone stepped into the water. Tull flinched, looked down. Ayuvah’s younger sister, Fava, stood in the moonlight not eighty feet outside the fortress wall.

Fava was pretty, with sandy red hair. Her green eyes, uncommon among the Pwi, were set shallowly beneath her brows, which made her look more human than most deep-browed Neanderthals. Fava was a rarity, a purebred Pwi, not of mixed blood, like Tull.

Fava’s bare legs were decorated with colored ribbons, symbolizing that she was still a maiden. Bending over, she untied the ribbons, as if she would bathe.

Tull’s heart pounded, and he looked away as she began to strip off her summer tunic. He wondered if she knew that he was in the tree. How could she not know? he wondered. We always have a guard.

Fava gasped as she splashed into the pond. The water felt deliciously cool against her skin. Distilling honey was hot, sticky work, and Fava relished the thought of feeling clean again, clean like the night sky that caressed the moon’s cheek.

Fava dunked her head beneath the water’s surface to soak the honey smoke out of her hair. She rolled her head from side to side, letting the current ripple like fingers through her tresses. Fingers, she thought. Would that they were Tull’s fingers instead of the river’s.

He watches, up there in his tree, she thought. She pushed off against the rocks and silt of the pond’s bottom and took in a breath before she stretched out to float on her back under Thor’s blue-green light.

Fava shared her smile with the moon. Let him watch, she whispered to Thor. If Tull watched, perhaps he would see that she was a woman grown, a woman who offered potho ha-chima, the love that opens like a rosebud, instead of the simpler friendship of a childhood playmate.

For Fava was a girl no longer. Her goals and desires had evolved from the toys and games of a child into the larger world of kin, village and hearth. Like all Pwi women, she would take a mate once and forever, joining her spirit with his the way bark is bound to pith.

The water lapping against the shore offered a soft chuckle in response to Fava’s thoughts, so she splashed.

What if Tull didn’t want her? What if his heart yearned after some human woman, just as hers yearned after him? Tull’s father was human, so perhaps Tull aspired to a human life, a human wife. The thought unsettled Fava, so she dove beneath the surface again to wash the thought loose.

Surely, Tull could see that a strong Pwi woman like herself was better than the wilting flower of a human girl he’d chased after as a boy. Well, if he couldn’t, Fava would do her best to make him see.

She rose to the surface and stole a glance at Tull’s guard post over her bare shoulder.

Tull dared a glimpse toward the pond. He could see little. Fava’s pale flesh shone softly in the blue moonlight, and she swam with the grace of an otter. “Fava,” he whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Bathing,” she said. Fava was a sweet girl who seemed mystified by the world and always spoke with a strangely intense inflection, as if trying to convey how odd everything was.

Tull’s face burned with embarrassment.

“Mmmmm,” she sighed, splashing water. “I’ve been boiling honey for three days. My clothes are sticky, and they smell like leatherwood. Tell,” she said, speaking Tull’s name as well as her Neanderthal lips would allow, Even my skin smells-fondly of honey.”“

Tull blushed and looked away. Fava teased him from time to time, yet it seemed like a game. Tull was not sure if she really wanted to catch him. For Neanderthals, all objects, all people, all places held kwea, the emotional weight of past associations. Tull felt drawn to Fava, but she’d always been like a little sister to him. The kwea he felt for her was friendly, the kwea built up from good times spent together.

He could not think of her as anything but the little girl she had been, someone to protect. But lately, the kwea was changing. She teased him often, and he felt a craving for her—the desire to treat her as a lover.

Yet he didn’t dare make such a move, afraid it would spoil their long friendship.

Besides, why would she want me, a halfbreed? Tull wondered. Not many women would want a half-human, half-Neanderthal for a husband. Fava could surely do better. No, she is just trying to embarrass me.

Tull breathed slowly and forced himself to watch the grasslands, but he could not concentrate on them with Fava swimming in the pool, the sinuous waves rippling away from her like silver ribbons untwining from her legs. She kept at it for half an hour, then climbed out to dry herself in the warm night air, shaking out her long, red hair with her fingers.

Tull struggled to keep his eyes averted. Several small dinosaurs had gathered in the valley to scavenge the carcass of the tyrannosaur Ayuvah had killed earlier in the day. Perhaps that was what had so many of the smaller dinosaurs, kavas, as the Pwi called them, on edge. The smell of a tyrannosaur, mingled with blood and offal, was sure to cause some alarm.

Once Fava had dressed, she entered the fortress, shinnied up the tree, and stood on the gnarled old branch beside Tull, one hand resting on the trunk of the tree.

She was tall for a Neanderthal, yet Tull looked down on her, for like many halfbreeds, he was taller than most Neanderthals, and broader of chest than any human.

“Tull, will you comb my hair?” she asked, standing precariously.

“I’m on guard,” he said.

“Everyone else is asleep!” Fava insisted.

Tull took the ivory comb she proffered. She turned her back and leaned against his thigh while he brushed her long, wet hair.

“I’m eager to get back home,” Tull said as he combed.

“Why?” Fava asked. “I thought you were happy to come on this trip. You said you were bored with picking fruit and hauling hay.”

“I fear,” Tull answered, and he told her about Ayuvah seeing a lantern.

“It would be a shame if the slavers come here,” she said. “Tsavathar’shi.” This place, too beautiful. She stood gazing out at the moonlight over plains. It was still an hour before dawn, and a quetzalcoatlus with a fifty-foot wingspan soared overhead, hunting for carrion. As Tull and Fava watched, it began to circle the dead tyrannosaur down in the valley.

Tull finished combing Fava’s hair, then tied it into a ponytail and patted her shoulder.

“Did I get the honey off?” she asked matter-of-factly, playing the part of a little sister again.

Tull leaned in. Her hair smelled of mountain spring water. “I think so, Friend.”

Fava turned and looked up at him smiling. Tull could not read her expression: Anger, desire, mockery?

“Friend?” she said, “are you sure that is all I am?” She leaned her head back.

Tull breathed the sweet scent of her neck. Her clothes still held the fruity, flowery scent of leatherwood honey, and somehow it made him dizzy.

Tull felt unsure how to answer, for if he told her the truth, she might go down and bathe again.

Suddenly he stopped worrying about it: on the hill far away, he saw a torch swinging in the darkness. Tull pulled out his telescope, gaze riveted on the honey tree: Two miles across the plain, Denni was swinging the brazier.

For a moment, Tull noticed nothing else, then he spotted men dressed in black boiling out of the brush. Denni was trying to drive them off with the brazier. Swords flashed in the moonlight.

“What’s happening?” Fava asked.

“Slavers!” Tull said. “Pirates from Bashevgo, I think—at least they are dressed in black. Denni is holding them back.”

“How many?” Fava asked. Tull heard fear and bewilderment in her little-girl voice.

He counted. “Ten or twelve that I can see.”

“Denni can’t fight so many. He is swinging the brazier to warn us!” Fava said. She grabbed the war horn from Tull’s neck, pulling it so hard that the leather string broke.

“No,” Tull said, “you’ll warn the slavers that we’re here.”

Fava put the horn to her lips and blew, letting the deep bellow add to the mating cries of the blue-crested hadrosaurs on the plain below.

Tull watched through the glass as slavers turned as one toward the sounding war horn.

Fava’s little-girl voice turned hard. “Now Denni and Tchar know we are coming. And the pirates know they have a fight on their hands!”

#writingtip

12 notes · View notes