#thus ends my update lecture

[nicollekidman]

in my brief but colorful time on the Apps(tm) i have developed a strategy for myself which is basically. with women, i can tell based on a chat if we’d vibe and want to meet up, so apps are fine. with men? i cannot tell nor do i want to. men have to pass a much more extensive vibes based check which does not come across over forced communication and also i need to supersede my knee-jerk reaction to any strange man which is 🙄🙄🙄🙄 so those buds have to stay in real life.

[dm-hutchins-2nd]

DM Hutchins 2nd Research Project - 5-5-24

~ The DM Hutchins 2nd Digital Occult Library Research Project ~

The DM Hutchins 2nd Digital Occult Library Research Projectis the public end of my personal collection of research materials which I have aggregated over the past 20 years, and which cover a plethora of subject matter. Other than to educate myself, I aim to collect, preserve, share, and discuss, these occulted materials, which are valuable to the alchemical process, and ending the state of human slavery. Most specifically, it is my aim to collect valuable research materials, before the content is censored from the internet. I aim to organize and preserve those research materials, both online and offline. I aim to share these research materials, via links to my backups on the MEGA service, and by way of mailing physical HHD or SSD study drives, as well as customized media devices such as readers, tablets, MP3 players, and so on. It is my aim to discuss those most valuable research materials, as everyone is welcome to contact me, and to assist in future updates to the Library. Thus far my research material totals nearly 5 TB, with the Configuration Gifts totaling 4 TB, and the public backups on MEGA totaling an eventual 2 TB.

~ Public Backups of my Research Materials ~

My research material is divided in to two primary categories, which are Online Backups and In-Hand Study Drives. My Online Backups are hosted on MEGA. MEGA is the data storage and sharing platform upon which my personal research material backups are available to the public. MEGA does impose a bandwidth limitation on how much you can download per hour, however, using a VPN to change your IP occasionally, allows you to download data from MEGA indefinitely.

Please note that you can View, Read, Watch, and Listen, to all of the research materials in your browser, or the MEGA app, without the need to download anything, however, if you would like to download a personal backup of the research materials, you may download them to your computer or phone, and if you also have a MEGA account, you can cloud transfer materials directly from my account to your own account, provided you have the storage space. I highly recommend downloading all meaningful research materials, on personal offline devices, due to the nature of internet censorship. It is YOUR personal responsibility to Collect, Preserve, Know, and Teach, this information.

I intend to eventually make 2 TB of my personal research materials available on MEGA. Each of the five links below take you to individual collections, according to their content and format. Obviously, it will take time to upload 2 TB of BackUp files, so check back in often to see what has been added since you last visited. My progress will be indicated by the number of GB listed beside each section. If you see (Complete) next to a section, that section is fully backed up, and nothing more will be added to it. I have currently uploaded 507.42 GB out of 2 TB as of 4-21-24.

1 - DMH2ND Digital Occult Library - PDF & EPUB

Complete - 100.86 GB - 718 Folders - 21,171 Files.

2 - DMH2ND Digital Occult Library - Audiobook

123.85 GB of 446 GB - 307 Folders - 6339 Files.

3 - DMH2ND Digital Occult Library - Audio Lectures, Series

Complete - 167.55 GB - 1246 Folders - 13,116 Files.

4 - DMH2ND Digital Occult Library - Audio Podcast

203.86 GB of 1 TB - 19 Folders - 2959 Files.

5 - DMH2ND Digital Occult Library - Photo Library

Complete - 13.3 GB - 499 Folders - 28,899 Files.

~ Configuration Gifts ~

Of course, certain files are only included within Storage Drives and Personalized Devices via Configuration Gifts. In the event that you'd like to own a Hard Drive, Solid State Drive, or Personal Device, configured in to a "Study Station", meaning that it has been loaded with part, or all, of the DM Hutchins 2nd Digital Occult Library Research Project, please have a look at my post explaining Configuration Gifts.

~ Contact Information ~

tutanotauser001@tuta.io - My primary public email for information exchange.

Facebook - A Government Social Media platform which I use primarily to tell willful slaves to eat shit for timeless eternity.

Twitter - I use Twitter mainly for its chat feature. I have no idea what is trending, nor do I care. Use this only as a means of communication.

Tumblr - Tumblr is a platform intended for Artist and Writers focused upon the occult and personal mastery. Much to be gained here.

Reditt - An overly complicated group of know-nothings using admin buttons to be correct online, because they are idiot failures in real life...

YouTube - I do not post on YouTube, I merely have an account. If you are a YouTuber you can contact me in that manner.

BitChute - On this account I post random and occasional audio rants.

~ Support Methods ~

If you find value in my efforts, and these research materials have been beneficial to your studies and personal development, please consider assisting in my ability to continue this work.

One Time And Occasional Personal Donations

Paypal - My Paypal

Venmo - My Venmo

CashApp - My CashApp

GPay - My Google Pay

Shop On My Online Storefronts

Bonfire - My freedom themed tee shirts/hoodies.

Lulu - My printed poetry and essay publications.

Technological Needs

Without question, my greatest needs are technological in nature. I simply do not possess the means to purchase the various electronics required so as to manage and distribute Study Drives and Configuration Gifts, on the level that I'm striving for. I also require portable equipment in order to share large amounts of research materials in person, rather than via mail. If you would like to assist me in acquiring the technology necessary to continue this work, consider donating items from the Amazon Wishlist below.

1 - Cables and Adapters -

To Charge And Transfer Data Across A Range of Devices.

2 - Flashdrives and SD Cards -

To Manage And Transfer Data Across A Range of Devices.

3 - Hard Drives and Solid State Drives -

To Preserve Research Materials With Redundant Copies.

4 - Battery Banks and Chargers -

To Charge and Maintain Multiple Device With Portability.

5 - Audio Podcasting Gear -

Basic On-The-Go Voice Recording Equipment.

~ And A Very Special Thank You ~

A very special Thank You to Paolo Tonolo, Dion Plowman, Dawn Lavandowski and Gordon H Cairns, (And all of you who wish not to be mentioned) for your continual contributions of content and person time, to this massive and ever growing research project. You are each true Brothers, Sisters, and Warriors, in the Battle for Truth. Much Love and Respect to You and Yours...

[enby-denby]

And the polls are in! Thank you so much to the 103 lovely people who have voted, liked and reblogged this for me, you've given me some interesting data to comb through, such as:

A huge majority of you want a happy ending for these character (I do to, but I should admit I chose the steak dinner accidentally.)

The Toy Story AU, which I came up with spontaneously, is nearly twice as popular as the Hotel Staff AU that I think about every day. Go figure.

All Bishops must shut the hell up (at least until the chess gang au, voted 3rd place, contextualizes him)

Y'all like the idea of new ocs, but you're not ready for any Canon characters to abstract to make way for them. I get it, I really do.

There is a mild interest in body modification themed fics, especially if there is implied Yuri.

My reminder post did not change the results significantly, if anything it solidified Steak Dinner domination. Again, totally cool with that.

And so, with the results tabulated and ties weighted based on the expected length and complexity of each fic, here is my projected release order for these projects:

Good Ending/Steak Dinner (sometime in the following week, I have already begun writing and it will be a tidy 3000 word one-shot)

Toy Story AU (Coming December 2023, and updating for as long as I can come up with chapter ideas)

Chess Gang Flashback (January 1st, 2024, with about 12 chapters total)

Hotel Staff AU (February 2024, once again this one will update indefinitely until I run out of ideas)

Pomni as a System (March 2024, I have at least four chapters planned but it will probably be way more)

Zooble Theseus' Ships Themself (April 1st, 2024, as a one shot this one should take priority)

Totes joins the circus (May 2024, this is yet another multi-chapter story with no set ending.)

Descendants story (June 2024, by then I should have a plot planned)

Bishop lecturing Pomni (July 2024, another one shot that should come out a bit after the Chess Gang fic has ended.)

Pomni as Old Guard (August 2024, another multi-chapter with only one inevitable conclusion. The only question is how many chapters I can put it off for.)

I may need advice on aspects of these stories, and thus might make more polls in the future. These, as well as links to my fics, will be posted on my Tumblr via AO3 so stay tuned my Superstars!

[the1975attheirverybest]

Babe think of it like a bundle deal, buy one get oen free.

Also question I have no clue what deuxmoi is aside from tumblr context but it kinda seems like ....just anyone can text them gossip? It feels way too much like the sun but online

yeah, thats basically it in a nutshell. You're 19, right? so the words "blind items." and "crazy days and nights" and "enty lawyer" mean nothing to you, right? On the off chance that you know what that is, deuxmoi is basically that.

If you, or anyone else on here needs clarification or curious about the history, read below:

So, there's this sick and toxic "tradition" in pop culture that started, like most toxic things, in the 90s and early 2000s. When the internet started becoming a thing. "Crazy Days and Nights" is the most prominent one (it's actually still operating today! you can go look up Matty on there....DON'T. But you can.) It's a website that an anonymous Entertainment Lawyer ("enty" for short) started back in the day. Because he works in the industry, he allegedly makes a lot of connections and friends in Hollywood who spill all the dirty secrets about Celebs "Jennifer Anniston was seen at an excessive afterparty kissing [insert name of celeb here]" or "i was in the bathroom at this award show and saw Meryl Streep snorting coke" or whatever. He started posting these things online on his website for people to read like a tabloid magazine.

BUT, cuz hes a lawyer, and accutely aware of the legal trouble that this would put him in, instead of telling us who it is by name, he'd just IMPLY SUPERRR HEAVILY IN A SUPER SPECIFIC WAY. like lets do Jennifer Anniston as an example. Instead of writing "Jennifer Anniston," he would say "actress who got famous in her 20s through a sitcom in the 90s about friendship." This way, if he got into any trouble he could say "Well it's ambiguous enough to either be about Jennifer, Courtney, or Lisa. Or really any actress on any sitcom in the 90s." You see what I mean?

He then escalated it even more where he would do one night a week/month and post "reveals." like something that he posted on his page as a simple "rumor." that then turned out to be true a month later through the news or public celeb appearances etc. he would then remove the overly specific description and say who it is cuz its no longer a secret.

Over the years, he started getting a lot of industry outsiders who write in anonymously saying "im a cater waiter at the grammies and i saw x y z" or "I'm a personal assistant to a blonde pop star and i saw this and that" and his page because the main "blind item" (blind cuz it keeps the names secret) hotspot for the internet.

NOW, fast forward to today, Deuxmoi is exactly this. except they "updated it" where its not a blog with email tips. It's an instagram, page, podcast. etc. And whereas "Enty" has "limits" stuff he won't posy about, keeping peoples names out of it, "verifying" sources before posting, etc. Deuxmoi doesn't give a shit. They (i think its 3 people who run the whole thing) will post just about anything. Even if it's contradicting stuff they've posted before lmaooo. and they dont check their sources or do any vetting or whatever. they just stir shit up.

THUS ENDS MY LECTURE ON WEIRD CELEB GOSSIP!

[assignmenthelpukworkingment]

Best dissertation acknowledgement ideas and examples

-The dissertation acknowledgement is an assignment of study finished as part of a postgraduate or undergraduate program. It is also occasionally referred to as a thesis although in certain nations, this term is only used for the final projects of doctoral degrees, whereas in other countries, "thesis" and "dissertation" are equivalent. Students typically have the opportunity to describe their study in a dissertation in response to a thesis or problem of their personal choosing.

The project's goal is to gauge students' capacity for independent study, and the evaluation will be used to determine their final grade. Although your lecturers will usually offer some help, the dissertation topics is primarily independent. This assignment will likely take the majority of students the longest, hardest, and most significant amount of time to complete in college. It will require months of planning and diligent labor the library could end up being a second home. But it may also be highly rewarding, especially if you're passionate about the subject you've chosen. Thus, it is unquestionably an excellent choice to pick a subject that piques your curiosity. Your course of study will determine the kind of dissertation you write. The distinction among empirical & non-empirical dissertation is one of the key ones. Empirical dissertations, such as those written for psychology degrees, require gathering data. This can entail following moral and professional standards when gathering information from the general population. Laboratory work may be a major component of empirical dissertations in the natural and life sciences or may even take centre stage. Non-empirical dissertations rely on facts and justifications found in previous research. This probably requires a lot time getting sucked up in a book! In this form of dissertation, you must ensure that you critically evaluate rather than simply summarize what others have said.

Dissertation examples: -

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3. Master's Full Dissertation Sample on Big Data

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The dissertation acknowledgement is a substantial academic undertaking that necessitates extensive independent study on a subject that has been approved by your professor. Introduction, Literature Review, Techniques, a discussion and Conclusion are the five chapters.

Note: Join our Telegram group or check out our Instagram for further updates and questions about Do my assignment.

[noeffingbody]

ok we are like one episode from the end of fall of the house of usher and I have some updated THOUGHTS (spoilers)

I am actually loving the structure of it. The fact that it’s a story within a story and how that affects our perception of it is my bread n butter

I need more Madeline usher…the absolute maniac and a total enigma thus far

i actually love how every single one of the ushers become even more ghoulish as the show goes on so that when one of them dies it’s kinda satisfying ngl

love the idea, contrasted with other flanagan work, that these people simply can’t reach other. the family is so isolated from the world and each other that we get that horror-staple claustrophobic setting after all.

I like that there is so much mourning for what could’ve been, how people become trapped and become mutated versions of themselves. it asks: could Edgar Allan Poe exist in our world without becoming a corporate exec stealing the life out of the world?

the Juno angle is one I don’t get. It seems that flanagan has a specific bone to pick with medication in all its forms and doctors who are all too quick to prescribe them. It works…if Juno didn’t become the most clear-headed and normal character in the whole show. The junkie aspect loses its teeth if we don’t really see how being on a criminal dose of prescription medication is truly affecting her.

fucking love verna. I love the symbolism, I love her little lectures before each of the ushers die, my favorite being her interaction with Frederick which is basically her taking off her mask and saying “you absolute fuckwit”

speaking of, the conversation with Madeline that verna has where she’s like I’m gonna give you clarity and then just proceeds to read an entire Edgar Allan Poe poem, to which Madeline is just like “…???” lmao girl you picked the wrong usher here

i love that he’s giving the devotion to money/power/status the same treatment he gave to devotion to religious supremacy.

my favorite line: “we can sort this. woman to woman” -“I’m not a woman.”

[victorluvsalice]

We've hit Winter Monday in the Chill Valicer Save with this update, still racing to try and fill up the last shelves in the store so we can actually OPEN Van Liddelton Groceries at some point! Let's start right where we left off, with the gang working on making product and getting through their morning chores on the farm --

-->In fact, we are starting almost exactly where we left off, as right after Alice decided to curl up for a wolf nap on the floor of the barn, Kelly wandered in and started meowing in her ear, waking her up. XD A very annoyed Alice lectured the cat on not doing that, and to my surprise, Kelly not only listened, but actually learned Not To Wake Sims Up! So that was nice, at least. However, as she was already awake, Alice dragged herself over to the bulk processing machine to make some boxes of strawberry and raspberry jam, then used her werewolf super-speed to go have a REAL sleep in her and Victor's bed. A lot more comfortable than the barn floor, that's for sure!

-->While this was going on, Smiler finished off another chatterbot, then got sent out on a different mission -- mainly, they got exiled to the nearby pond to fish on the pier! No, I did not care that it was snowing at the time, Smiler's a vampire and thus immune to temperature. XD My goal there was to load up on fishies because I'd abruptly remembered that there was a product on the bulk processor that I hadn't even TRIED to make before -- namely, cans of processed fishcakes! And of course, for fishcakes, you need fish, and Smiler is the Sim who has the most experiencing fishing, so. . .they basically spent the rest of the morning on that dock, doing their best to stock their inventory with as much fish as possible. And as you can see, they made some impressive catches -- in the end, they ended up with a beautiful tuna, a couple of sturgeons, a couple of common upgrade parts, some perches, a minnow, and no less than FOUR catfish, who apparently REALLY like the chamomile Smiler was using as bait. Not bad at all, huh?

-->Victor, meanwhile, spent a good portion of his morning molding candles in canary yellow and shale gray shades -- which, as you can see, involves a lot of boring standing around. Like, seriously, can we speed this process up a little? *sigh* He did eventually complete both candles and headed over to the greenhouse to tend the plants -- I do have to admit, it is always kind of amusing to see him using that giant weed vacuum to suck the dandelions right out of the garden patches. XD His needs were looking like garbage after the initial tending, though, so -- after realizing he didn't have any Potions of Plentiful Needs in his inventory -- I grabbed him some Moodlet Solver so he could get himself back in tip-top shape and get on that harvest! Can't let the plants remain unpicked, after all!

-->Alice woke up in good time thanks to how great her and Victor's bed is, and quickly rejoined the productivity train -- after cleaning the litter boxes, cleaning herself (with the power of werewolf licking), and feeding Toothy, she was back on the bulk processor making boxes of cheese with the milk I'd preloaded in there! She also made some more bulk bags of sugar for canning purposes, which, hilariously, unlocked the Simple Living Cookbook as a book she could write. I -- I don't think making an industrial-sized sack of fruit-based sugar on a giant yellow bulk food processing machine is QUITE in keeping with the spirit of the Simple Living lot trait, game! Even if it DOES require Alice to have all the necessary ingredients. XD

-->With the crops harvested and the cookbook unlocked (and Smiler still very much on fishing duty), it was time to tend to the animals. Alice cleaned the chicken coop, made sure everyone was fed, and gathered the eggs (four normal nonhatchable ones, yay), while Victor checked up on Moory and gave her a good milking. Alice then hopped back on the bulk processor to make the first box of canned fishcakes from the fish Smiler had caught so far while I dumped a bunch of the wrapped white meat from the chickens she'd "sold," some custard, and some blueberries in her inventory for transport to the store. And got HER a Moodlet Solver as well as her own needs were starting to flag. She then made a bit more cheese and did a quick Somber Howl while Victor cleaned up all the various plates around the place (surprising me when he did so in the greenhouse -- I'd forgotten the sink that's on the decorative "potting bench" I put in there is actually, you know, a legit sink)...

And then, after a brief dance break in the living room, it was time to get Smiler back and send everybody off to the store! Because, as previously stated, we have SHELVES TO FILL, DAMN IT. No fun allowed until that happens!

[biblioflyer]

What is lost by leaning into "realism"

Discovery and Picard are not entirely unique in challenging Star Trek’s conventions and daring to show a more complex, more challenging universe where logic and empathy are not always triumphant, at least not right away. DS9 and Enterprise certainly blazed that trail. Some of the arguments I’m making may also fit them, but they’re not the ones that get piled on and they're too distant in my memory to fairly judge.

I think I hit upon a critique of Picard that both rings true but also still leaves many unanswered questions. In updating the tone of the show to reflect modern expectations of “prestige drama” in terms of the aesthetics, acting styles, content, dialogue, and the overall world building Star Trek is being positioned to explore more fully Ben Sisko’s observation that “it's easy to be a saint in paradise” and thus keep Star Trek honest. 

It keeps Star Trek honest by committing to the enduring tradition of introspection and questioning norms of both storytelling and mirroring back uncomfortable truths about society. The Federation can be a fundamentally good place but if it is entirely free from fault, it has nothing to teach us. 

Star Trek needs to have room for its characters to be fundamentally good moral actors: people who care deeply about core Trek values like justice, mercy, and curiosity but if they are always in possession of the right information and free from internal confusion or distress when making their choices, then the only drama to be found is in going around and lecturing rubber forehead aliens. 

Now there has always been value in this, even if it feels more than a little neo colonial or very 1990s Francis Fukuyama style triumphalist. Self criticism makes us reflexively defensive and thus allegory is often easier to swallow. Yet it is also quite problematic if we never take time to ask ourselves if maybe this week we are the problem instead of the Pakleds.

However, the particulars of how Discovery and Picard update the franchise also have undeniably made these two series feel like everything else on TV. The mystery boxes, the way all of the characters are constantly suffering, the shocking twists, the ignoble deaths, the not so subtle implication that it isn’t even enough to punch a Nazi er I mean alien gangster you have to vaporize her. There’s no other form of justice or harm reduction available.

I’m not even saying that Episode Five (and yes I’m still salty about Episode 5) did a bad job of setting up the trolley problem that Seven solves through summary execution, but in creating a scenario in which executing a noncombatant, even one as heinous as Seven’s rival, is the most morally defensible course of action, Picard crosses a line where it feels like The Witcher. It feels like The Expanse. It feels like Andor.

All of which are amazing shows but their grim moral dilemmas are functions of their core conceits. Namely that people are mostly terrible and will reliably build nightmare societies in which exploitation is inevitable. At the very least, breaking free from cycles of abuse and exploitation in these settings is not easy or safe.

Star Trek has a long tradition of relatively straightforward “stop the bad guys” stories but it also has a tradition of finding win/wins and harm reduction over direct violence. To be fair, Picard’s first season does end through enshrining classic Trek values of achieving mutual understanding via open mindedness and exposing false assumptions that have brought people to the edge of apocalyptic conflict. The journey to get there with episode after episode of hard choices and backsliding, is not an easy one.

And maybe it shouldn’t be because Star Trek has always had its critics that it undersells the difficulty of resolving conflict and appealing to people’s better nature. Yet, if everyone else is doing a phenomenal job of making the quest for a better world seem as dirty and torturous as it may really be, does Star Trek actually need to do that too in order to be a “responsible” show? 

Is there a moral argument to be made for simpler narratives and inspirational parables rather than cautionary tales?

For now I think Strange New Worlds has the balance just right. Although I have concerns going forward based on the Season Two premiere stinger that it may be tempted to become too naive and simplistic in some ways and too cynical in others.

For more like this check out my other essays reevaluating Star Trek Picard and interrogating the widely held fandom criticism that Picard made the Federation into a Dystopia.

[peachykeenmomster]

2.4.23

my sons first birthday and a quick school and work update.

Hello and happy Saturday! I hope everyone is having a productive and meaningful weekend thus far. I did not intend to go two weeks between posts. It’s a good thing I decided not to hold myself to a schedule when I started posting over here, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stick to it. Anyways, I feel like there has been much that has taken place since my introductory post.

First, my son turned one. I truly cannot believe that he is already a year old. I know everyone says time is a thief and not to blink, but until you have your own children and see for yourself, you won’t understand just how fast the newborn phase passes. Now that my little boy is entering toddlerhood, my goal for parenthood in this season as I help him learn and explore the world around him and gain just the tiniest amount of independence, is to not get overly wrapped up in my frustrations and not to wish the days away. Surely if the newborn stage passed so quickly, the stages that follow are sure to do the same. I want to be present in the moment and appreciative of where we are at. That is not to say that I won’t allow myself to be frustrated or to have days where I’m counting down until nap time or bedtime. I think it’s important to allow yourself the grace to feel those negative emotions. But, on those days, I hope I will also take a step back to breathe and remember just how quickly time has proven to pass.

On my sons birthday this year, a new family tradition was born. If you aren’t familiar with Build-A-Bear Workshop’s birthday bear, it is a bear that is available during your child’s birthday month and you can get it at the price of the age your child is turning. So we got our boy a bear for $1 this year! Then we had lunch at The Cheesecake Factory, where he had some delicious pasta and cheesecake! Check out the pictures below!

We had an actual party planned for him with all our family and friends a few days after his actual birthday, that we unfortunately had to cancel last minute the day of due to a run in with strep that affected both me and my boy. We have since recovered and have rescheduled the party for next weekend! Hopefully all will go according to (backup) plan. A lot of time and energy has gone into putting this birthday party together, so I have high expectations for it. I can’t wait to share some fun memories made there in the next post.

Before I put an end to this blog post, I feel it necessary to give a quick update as far as work and school goes. Due to being sick, I had to call into work two days for myself while I had strep and one day to keep my son home from daycare when he came down with it. During that time, I also did not get a lot of studying, or homework done. My lab kit came in the mail though and now I have a rat, a cows eye and a pigs brain along with all my lab essentials- goggles, sterile gloves and dissection tool stored away in my closet. I’m nervous as to completing the dissection labs from home. I’ve never taken an online class up until this point, so to be in one with an accompanying lab class that I’m also tackling from home is a major step outside of my comfort zone. However, I had my first lecture exam this morning. It was 80 question and I had 95 minutes to complete it. I scored a 92.5% on it. After getting 75% on the first two quizzes, I definitely seized the opportunity to redeem myself and I’m still pulling an A in this class! In a couple of months I will be adding a CNA class to my already extremely busy schedule. I will keep you guys updated on that as well as everything else.

Until next time. ✌🏻

[polhpl]

Session room

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The recommended poster format is portrait A0 (84.1 cm wide x 118.9 cm height). Speakers should arrive in their session room 10 minutes BEFORE the start of their session to report to the Session Chair, and upload your slides if you have not done so previously.

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In addition, avoid using fonts that are not present in the Windows operating systems. pdf versions of their presentation on the USB stick.īe warned that movies embedded in the presentations are not guaranteed to be played.

Session room software#

To avoid software compatibility problems, speakers are advised to put. Files can be uploaded to the computers in the lecture rooms during the breaks between the sessions. PLEASE NOTE THAT YOU MUST BRING THE PRESENTATION ON A USB MEMORY STICK IN ORDER TO TRANSFER IT TO THE COMPUTER IN THE PRESENTATION ROOM. Authors should limit their lecture presentation to 15 minutes to allow for 5 minutes of questions.Ī projector and a computer with MS PowerPoint will be available in every session room for regular presentations. I greatly appreciate her effort.The duration of each presentation is 20 minutes including discussion. In fact, the fifth person I dealt with removed the sandwich cost from my bill. Honestly, I would have given this meal a one star, but the staff who I interacted with in reactive mode were all very pleasant. I have enjoyed a handful of meals at the Session Room in the past. I had thought about Fresh Forage again when I recalled I had not been to The Session Room in awhile. (I did not realize the house was think and sweet.) *Sigh* I had been looking forward to a yummy lunch after doing tedious tasks for my cousin's estate. I should have gone with a lighter vinaigrette option. The turkey was good, which I peeled away from part of the bun, since it was not agreeing with me. I realized driving home that there was no coleslaw, which makes the Reuben. (I think it was supposed to be toasted.) The cheese was congealed. My half Turkey Reuben was very sad looking. After three tables (that arrived after me) were delivered meals, my dish arrived. Sadly, the soup of the day (potato) was already not available at 12:15 p.m. She was very friendly and promptly took my order. A sign also indicated to "please wait to be seated." (When I approached the bartender, he very happily seated me in a booth.) Others who arrived after me were waited upon thus, I called out to a person walking by that I'd love to place an order. I was not greeted to be seated and was later told that hosts/hostesses do not greet on Tuesdays at lunch, though every other group arriving after me was greeted. I am so bummed about my lunch today and, thus, felt compelled to email the restaurant. In the end the management did offer to comp our final meal, which had yet to arrive, when we had to leave to make an appointment so they had some self awareness. My uncle, who spent a career managing in the restaurant industry, said his meal tasted like it had sat in the warming tray waiting for our other meals to be ready, which is concerning of the kitchen management as well. We did not get updates on our food other than posing questions to the waitress who said it would be out "soon". But the term "lunch rush" is not new to the restaurant industry, and this was the week before Christmas, so everyone on staff should've been scheduled that day. Admittedly they had a rush and most of the tables were full. At a Friday lunch it took an hour and a half from the moment we sat down till the moment our food was served, and over an hour from when we ordered it. They did forget the condiment spread that was supposed to be on the sandwich and I'd finished the sandwich by the time they brought it out. The salmon was well cooked, done but still moist and tender throughout. I went for a Friday lunch and got the salmon BLT. This is a split review, that I'd love to give 2.5 stars for.

[allyium-inserts]

If Only...

Itachi x  Tsunade’s Daughter! Reader

Okay guys. Hear me out! Just imagine Tsunade has a daughter while she's gone from the village. She and Shizune taught her medical ninjutsu while the reader grew up. This allowed her to master Tsunade’s teaching by the time she was like 15. The reader and Tsunade separate and the reader travels around helping shinobi and civilians alike. That’s how she meets Itachi and Kisame.

This is gonna have slightly suggested themes, but do not plan on going into detail. There will be canon violence and swearing.

Update: if this reaches 30 notes, I will do a part two!!

Update 2: As promised I will try to get part two up by the end of the week, but summer classes me kicking my ass rn

Part two is here

About 2.5k words

Tsunade still loves Dan and he will always be her only love. But one night she gets a little too drunk and the guy she hooks up with looks a little too much like Dan. Literally Tsunade and shizune leave that village the next day

Tsunade finds out that she’s pregnant on the road. It was quite a shock to both her and Shizune, but she decides to carry out her pregnancy because everything happens for a reason

As soon as you are born, she realizes that had 3rd love. The first being her little brother, Nawaki, and Dan. Shizune and Tsunade raise you together while you move from village to village.

Tsunade was very reluctant in teaching you ninjutsu and the shinobi way entirely because she couldn’t lose her daughter. She decided that teaching you would be good for self-defense and thus she began to teach you the basic of chakra

“Come on, Ma! Pweaaseeee. I wanna be a ninja!!!!”

Now 5 years later at age 13, you are helping Shizune in surgeries and doing minor surgeries and medical treatments with supervision by yourself. Since then you have decided that you wanted to travel and help people.

The three of you stopped at this tiny village and stayed for about 2 years (which has been the longest place you have stayed), before the village became susceptible to a plague that was going on in this part of the land. Tsunade wanted to leave, but you told her that you would stay to help the village. She tried to argue with you saying no and say that you were too young, but the determined look in your eyes that reminded her a little too much of her younger brother made her say yes. After a teary good-bye to Shizune and Tsunade, they left while you stayed and treated the villagers.

At about this time the Uchiha Massacre had already happened and Itachi had joined the Akatsuki. Kisame and Itachi were in the area for a mission. At this point Itachi’s eyesight had started to get worse, but it was very minor and nothing serious.

There was rumor they heard about this “priestess” who could heal anyone. And so they go to the village to find this so-called priestess to find a feisty 15-year old girl lecturing this 40 year-old man on the importance of taking the medicine she made.

Kisame laughs at this because this girl was no older than Itachi at the time and could no way be that good. Originally, Itachi just wanted to check on the rumor because he had heard Pain thinking about recruiting a medic for the Organization. But deciding to see if she could help him

She looked up at him and gave him the sweetest smile and gestured to him to follow her to her small cottage outside of the village. Once they arrive, you tell him to sit down and tell her what he needs to be healed. Kisame ofc makes himself a home on her couch while looking over the house. Itachi mentions the slight blindness in his eyes.

The green glow of your right hover over his eyes to help decide what is actually wrong. You tell him how you can only cure this blindness temporarily and begin to heal his eyes. Once the eyes are healed you tell him how he should come visit when it starts to get worse again but be warned that the more you heal him the less effective it becomes.

He goes to hand you money and you stop him. Ofc he likes “what” you literally brought strangers into your home and willingly healed them without asking for anything. You shrugged your shoulders and said that you will always help some no questions asked and free of charge. So they leave but Itachi still feels somewhat bad about it and secretly leaves you about a hundred ryo in your mailbox. When you find it you sigh, shaking your head lightly with a soft smile.

That’s how you meet itachi. This next time you see him is about 8 months after the first visit. This time he’s alone and you usher him into your cottage and into your designated medical exam room. You begin to heal his eyes and have small talk such as “how is your day” and things like that.

About a week after his visit, you decide to leave the village and travel around the land to help war-stricken villages.

So when he visits you again another 5 months later and you are not there he was so confused. He was concerned because he thought someone kidnapped you or killed you and all these other options. But he began to ask villagers where they were.

“Oh (Y/N), they left the village after the plague. I’m not sure where she went though.”

He continued to dig around until he was able to find you again heading toward the Land of Rain to help the war-stricken citizens. He had a new direction to head in.

You totally ran into Jiraya a couple times during your travels and when you recognized him as one of the Legendary Sannins. You instantly asked if he knew your mother. He was shocked when he found out that his long-time crush had a daughter, but he would you stories about her and you would stare at him in awe

For some reason every village you stopped in, Itachi always found you and soon those small talks turned into things being said in confidence and becoming much closer than acquaintances. You soon made him special eyedrops to use to help reduce the symptoms in his eyes.

You have been treating him for almost two years before he tells you the truth about the Uchiha Massacre. He normally wouldn't tell you at all, but you had this reassuring aura that allowed him to open up. After the story, you brought him to your chest and cried for him because it must have been so difficult for him.

The both of you share this mutual bond of being each other’s confidence, but the next you see him is another couple months and it's kisame. He was carrying Itachi on his back, who had been injured pretty severely. It is very uncommon for a ninja to even get that chance to touch Itachi, let alone injure him to this extent.

You instantly usher him in and have kisame set him down on the operating table. You get to work, but your nerves are getting the better of you and the thought of him dying was in the foremost part of your mind

You save him ofc but when he wakes up you hug him and kiss him. That kiss portrayed every feeling you had for him. The fear of him dying, the relief that he was alive, the exhaustion of the 4 hours of healing you did. Itachi is shook, he doesn’t even think you deserve him. WHen you pull back you blush and apologize and go to walk away until he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for another kiss

Kisame is just there and kinda walks out of the room to give you both privacy but will totally tease Itachi when he has the chance. But either since than you and Itachi had this mutual understanding of each feeling’s

You then make a name for yourself in the Land of Rain, that catches the eye of Pain, who now wants to recruit you to the Akatsuki as their personal medic. At the Akatsuki meeting when your name is brought up about having you recruited. Itachi can help but be shocked and ofc Kisame opens his mouth

“Isn’t that the name of your little girlfriend, Itachi?”

Ofc itachi glares at his partner because the organization wasnt supposed to know about you. Pain wanted him to recruit you, but uncharacteristically he tells Pain that he wasn’t going to. AND that shocked everyone. Pain says that he will go and that both Itachi and Kisame will join him.

You had just finished healing this band of merchants who had been attacked when you heard an unknown person at your temporary home. You open the door to see Pain staring down at you, but you recognize the robe and welcome him in. You saw both Kisame and Itachi behind him and ofc that causes a big smile on your face because you haven’t seen Itachi for a while.  

You tell them to sit on the couch, while you finish your work. You were about to offer tea, when you heard a scream coming from your medical room. You offer an apologetic smile and tell Itachi to grab the tea. He nods and moves to your kitchen and to rush off to continue treating the merchants.

After that, Pain tells you that he wants you to join the Akatsuki and help pave the way to everlasting peace and all that. You simply tell him no and he is not surprised, but shocked at how quickly you shot him down. He didn't even finish his speech.

“Yea… No thanks Mister. I don;t really like what you guys do because often the people who know on my door are victims of your doing”

But you do say that if any member showed up at your door you would take them in. You also made your own rules such as that you want them to find you a more permanent place in the Land of Rain and would like some sort of compensation because it is very difficult to find medicinal herbs in the Land of rain. Pain agrees and a month later you move into your new place that has more than one medical room and is big enough to fit at least 5 people in.

Timeskip about one more year and you have traveled back into the Land Of Fire and heard a rumor that your mother had become Hokage. You ofc have to see this for yourself. You arrive after the Sasuke retrieval Mission so this village was still slightly destroyed from Konoha Crush

When you arrive at the village, you stare at it in awe because your mother told stories about Konoha, but you never saw it in person. It wasn’t until you were suddenly surrounded by Anbu Black Ops telling you to state their purpose. You tell them you are here to visit the Hokage

At first they were wary because the village had just been destroyed and you took note of this by saying that you are here to help with the injured and wanted permission. With that they lead you to the Hokage’s office and knock on the door.

The door opens and to reveal your mother, Shizune, a blond kid, a pink-haired girl, a kid you literally looked like he was falling asleep standing up, and a tall silver haired man. Anbu apologizes to her and tells her about you.

“It’s been too long Mother”

She instantly gets up and engulfs you in this big hug bringing your head to her chest. You hug her back with the same intensity. You stay like that for quite a while until the blind kid speaks up

“Who the hell are you? And why was Granny Tsunade hugging you?”

You pull away and look at him and notice the necklace hanging around his neck. You looked up to your mom and smiled down at you. She apologizes to the people in the room

You chuckled at that and stated that I was her daughter. They were all in shock at that. You tell her how you heard a rumor that she had become Hokage and needed to check it out. And that now it was true that you could leave. SHe begs you to stay for a bit and you do. That’s when Jiraya walks into the room and you greet him. Jiraya actually knew about you and Itachi cuz after all

After all that, he asks Tsunade to talk to her in private with me about something. You had a feeling that it was about because after all, a couple months prior, your “boyfriend” tried to kidnapped Naruto

Once in private, Jiraya rips the bandaid and goes how long have you been working with the Akatsuki?'' Your mother is shocked at this and you sighed and state that you don't “work” with them. That you are a traveling medic, so it wasn't uncommon to come across the Akatsuki. You also give him a look that says people don't say anymore about it.

Jiraya then turns to Tsunade and says that you can't stay in the village because of that connection and if people find out about your connection to the organization then her days of being Hokage are over. She sighs because what he said wasn't wrong but it hurts to just leave her daughter again. She goes “we just have to make sure they don't find out.” You instinctively hold the Akatsuki ring in your hand that Itachi gave you so he always knew where you were when you needed him. You brought up the fact that you could live outside the village

Withthat, you now have your own cottage near the Nara Forest that you live with so Itachi can still visit you. And on his next visit, he stays longer than a night and gives you his mother’s engagement ring. He said he wanted you to keep it, because he knew his death was itching closer and closer. And even though this happiness is fleeting, he decides to do whatever he can to keep it.

The night he gives you the engagement ring, you slip it on your finger and give him a deep kiss, one that continues into your own sheets. That night is filled with soft whispers of “i love you” to “i missed you” and kisses. The next morning you can help but look at the man next to you and kiss his cheek. You two talk about your future and how it would be.

“If this was a different world, a different timeline, I would make you an Uchiha”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Petal

college!sebastian stan x reader

masterlist

Summary; Your boyfriend Sebastian has been spending much time studying, hardly sparing himself a break. Finally, he sees the pros of taking one

Warnings; smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, fluff

divider by @firefly-graphics

Sebastian was to be home any minute, he had been prolifically stressed from his classes regarding his law certification, and you had decided to exhibit him a well deserved distraction that would surely take his wired brain off from the course that was practically running through his veins at this point.

It seemed that at every waking moment, he was doing something to aid his studies, and whilst that was great that he was so dedicated to passing for this insane qualification, he did need to take breaks here and there. He wasn't the only one suffering from his late nights, and his resurrection from slumber at the crack of dawn, no. You were too, you missed him, despite being in the same apartment and room as him for the majority of his spare time.

He acted as though he had no time to spare, but you were well acquainted with his schedule, especially by now. The only difference was, that he had no occupation for a moment to relax with you, or by himself. His showers took five minutes every morning and evening, it was as though he were rushing to clean himself so that he could proceed to go back to putting his nose in a book, or searching specifics online.

But tonight, you were going to cut him off. If he didn't endure a moment of mindlessness, then you were sure to go mad yourself. You were keening for his touch, all you had received in the past few weeks were chaste kisses on both your lips and forehead, as well as verbalised 'I love you's. Perhaps it was selfish, he was striving towards a great achievement in his life, and you wanted a little bit of attention, but you knew he was holding himself from any relief also.

From the minimal time that he spent under the cold stream of the showerhead, he didn't have enough time to rub one out, and there was no fear that you had of him seeing another woman. Sebastian was not like that at all, and you had the clarity of him being in the kitchen half the time, typing away on his laptop, as he ran over some old notes and updated them.

Currently, he was out, he was in his lecture. There was a span of fifteen minutes from the time that he would be on the walk home, and you knew that was exactly how long that took in your shared student apartment, because you too endured your studies. But once more, your own were pushed to the side as you speculated your appearance in the silver tapestry of your mirror.

Your hand steadied on your right hip as you posed in front of it, twisting your waist to find the most attractive angle for you in your new wear. The underwear was tight, and not to mention, completely sheer. It's see through nature made wearing it practically pointless, but considering his current frustrations, it was only fair to give something to rip off of you.

Truthfully, you had to admit, you looked damned good. There was no way he would choose studying law over ravishing your body, a spark jolted through your body as the door behind you opened, and with a seductive bite to your lip, you turned around, only to scream and cover your body with your hands, or at least to the best of your ability. "Holy fuck, don't you know how to knock?!"

"I didn't think I'd have to because your human dildo isn't here!" Anthony defended himself, having turned around, as the image of you, one of his best friends, practically in the nude, burned behind his eye balls. The fact that he had seen you made you feel sick, this was not how you had intended the afternoon to go.

"Is there a reason that you burst into my room looking for me Mackie?" The question was indeed one that you wanted to know the answer to, you still felt so exposed, although he was not looking at you. That was certainly something that you were going to avoid telling Seb, that would definitely be a big distraction from his work.

And of course, alongside that, he would have an intent to possibly murder your flat mate, and whilst Chris would be laughing at that, there would be a heavy hotness to your face, as you watched them immaturely battle. Anthony cleared his throat thoroughly, directing towards the face that he was about to speak.

"Definitely not to see you like that." Retorted the math major, shrugging the shiver off his shiver as the memory tormented him once more. "But... me and Chris were going to meet with Scarlett, Takia and Brie, we were going to see if you and Seabass wanted to join, but as I saw against my own will, you have something already planned for your dinner."

“Um yeah, no, we’ll pass. Thanks tho buddy.” Oh god, to say you felt awkward was an understatement. If you were wearing clothes, or at least more socially appropriate ones, you’d go to him and give him a typical punch on the shoulder. Though, if you were clothed more body wear, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Only things like this happened in college flats, that was one thing that could be confirmed.

“Okay then. Good to know...” Anthony closed the door and proceeded to enter the kitchen. He went grab himself an apple, and realised then that it was an unfortunate consequence, but he had lost his appetite. There had been nothing wrong with your appearance - nothing at all - but you were his flat mate and friend! And, you had a boyfriend, whom was also a great reference of social interaction for him.

The sound of keys interlocking with the outside of the door echoed through the kitchen, someone was outside, and he’d be write in assuming that it was Sebastian. Chris was presently occupied by scouring the internet for ways to surprise the girl he was currently hanging with, and honestly by that, Anthony was scared to enter his room.

It could have been anything that he was searching, but to his contrasting luck, the last resident of their flat entered, creases firm on his brow, from thinking too hard. Sebastian was mulling over the lecture that his professor had given his class. Remember to take a break every now and then. Maybe he was right, a break couldn't postpone him from graduating him that much, could it.

Perhaps he was putting it all off, because after receiving his degree, the four of you would have to find somewhere else to live, and a part of Seb was inclined to ask you individually to move in with him. A one bedroom apartment would be cheaper than one with three rooms, and atop of that, he wouldn't have to be cautious of minor things like walking around the flat in little to no clothing, or fucking you on the kitchen counter.

They were all coupley things that he had wishes to do, but because there were another two men residing with you and him, albeit them being your friends, he didn't allow you to do so in anything less than one of his shirts that cascaded down your thighs, so that if you weren't wearing panties, everything would be concealed. Anthony gulped, remembering he had seen you in your surprise for this man, and gosh, did he want to keep quiet about his accidental peek.

Sebastian wasn’t the jealous type, it was rather refreshing how he found that to be an unappealing trait, however, it would still not settle well that someone saw his girl, in a compromising choice of wear that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He would surely make it clear that you were his, and thus the fucking in the kitchen that he dreamt about would be more than likely to unfold, as he rammed you against the cupboards, caring not if guests were due.

“Hey.” It was a breath of fresh air to speak to someone who was not on his course, it was as though he had become estranged from the people closest to him during this part of the term. Thus a striking pang of guilt landed in his chest as he wondered how you must have felt. He hadn’t touched you in any intimate sense in weeks, it certainly felt like years.

That truth gave him no pride, he dropped his items on the counter, planning on returning to them after he had tended to greeting you. A long kiss sounded nice, strung by a chord of untwined tongues that groomed the insides of your mouth, as you reciprocated. If he was very generous to himself, he’d perhaps lay down for a moment, and allow his pianist hands to wander for more than a moment, stroking them up and down your thighs, until he gave supple attention to your sweet delicacy, dipping down to kiss it and run his fingers over the beautiful gates that only he was allowed to surpass through.

Anthony muffled a reply to him, before shuffling out the room, casting him a weird side eye, but Sebastian thought little of it as his mind was preoccupied with something other than his studies. Oh, and how he didn't mind. The mental image of your nude portrait blessing his eyes was enough motivation to have him striding at a fast, yet considerable pace, towards the door to your shared bedroom.

He knew you must have been inside, he saw your lanyard hanging on the coat rack, that was literally a makeshift piece of wood that you had drunkenly returned with one night, along with a very much intoxicated Paul Rudd. There had been construction nearby, and you thought that it was possible to turned the sharp edged plank with nails sticking out as a bedframe. Least to say, Sebastian did not allow that to happen, knowing that one morning, you would end up spiking your scalp against one of the rusted nails.

People had gotten hurt by it from where it was already, there was that time that Tessa had tried to lean on it for a photo, that in retrospect was an applicant towards your photography course, but that didn't end well, you were pretty sure there was still a streak of her blood stained into one side. That may have been why Chris had turned its weight around after that. However, none of you had the money to spare to invest in a real rack, so for now it stayed.

It sure as hell wasn't coming with you guys when you moved out, that was one thing that Sebastian was going to ensure. If Anthony wanted it, then so be it, if all went to plan, the pair of you wouldn't be living with the lovable goof when the time came. Turning the knob to the room, Sebastian heard a gasp, and thus after he shut it, he saw you wrapped up in your robe, your head cocked to the side as you seductively tried to settle on your small double bed.

"You made me jump Sebba." No, he could tell that you had been taking a short nap, as though you had wanted to forget some details from your day. And that you did, and you hoped that Anthony did as well. "Have you got much work to do bubs?" You raised yourself on your elbows and shuffled towards him as he came to sit on the side of the mattress.

"Think I'm going to take a short hiatus from it for a few hours." Now that certainly sounded pleasant, you hummed at his words, stroking his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his hand that moved cup your cheek. "Have I been neglecting my little petal?" It was a name he used whenever he was seeking forgiveness, but this time, you shook your head, frowning, as you settled a small smile on your face.

"You've been understandably busy, I get that. I'm not going to go as far as to use that word babes, you've just had a little time to yourself and your schoolwork, and that is fine." He tapped your chin, cocking his head to the side, inviting you to straddle his lap. You'd have been stupid if you refused after all the time that you had spent mentally apart from him, so without another hint, you clambered over his thighs, a giddy expression corrupting your face.

"This is why I love you. So open minded, and not to mention, that mind of yours has had me doing some thinking." Nodding in a current to prompt him to continue, his hands eased their lodging onto your bare thighs, stroking the skin with large soothing swipes, making any hair on your body stand on edge, as he averted his eyesight to the split of your gown that crisscrossed around your chest. It wasn't a sexual focus however, it was more so as though he feared a rejection of one kind.

"Hope you're not gonna propose us having a kid or something, because now is certainly not the time." At your humour, he sincerely laughed, causing a calm to wash over you and him, as he finally looked you in the face. “Unless you mean buying a plant, our last one died, and now you use the old pot to stub out your blunts." You could see the improvisational container as you turned your head to the side, seeing its white exterior be a gradient of light to shielded grey.

"I want you to move in with me." Sebastian responded straightly, bracing his slightly nervous palms to the divot of your waist, as he grasped the skin below your ribs, swirling the pads of his thumbs across your skin, caressing each nimble pore on that part of your body. His breath captured the side of your neck, as he licked a sweet line across a vein that he specifically picked out using his

"We already live together silly. Unless we're gonna move to mars." As you spoke, your brows optimistically raised, as your forearms found a home around the back of his neck, as you pressed tentative kisses to his clean jaw. A series of giggles evicted from you as you darted your tongue out to taste his sharp skin, your hand slipping down to control his own, trailing his touch beneath your gown so that the tips of his fingers were brushing the mesh of your underwear that was poised in a curve upon your hipbone.

"As much as the space nerd in me would love that, and not to mention you would make one foxy astronaut, I meant, after this, and here, we find a place for just you and me. I get if you don’t-“ you pressed your left forefinger to his lips, humming with a smile as he shared a gentle kiss upon your skin. He took the digit into his mouth, sucking the skin and swirling his tongue around the crescent of your nail.

“That sounds... perfect.” Ushering your finger from out past his lips, and the barrier of his nipping teeth, you languidly stroked his bottom lip, spreading the small extent of saliva that had coated your finger. “I’m so happy you’re taking a break Sebba, you deserve it. There’s something I want to show you baby, I know you’re going to like it.”

“Is it under this robe by any chance?” Obliging his answer with a supporting action, you allowed his hands to remain beneath the sleek material, as you untied the thick strand that tied the two sides together around your body. Pushing the dark silk from your shoulders, you revealed the design of petals that prompted through the thin material of your undergarments, everything exposed through the sultry and intimate pieces.

“Do you like it?” You seemed to have forgotten about Anthony seeing you in the internal wear, and from Sebastian’s honed gazing at your full breasts, your nipples sternly grew hard, telling him without need for word that he was silently turning you on. A sigh escaped from him, as he plucked at the seam of your panties, tugging lightly at the side to drag the material up your slit, grasping a light moan from your intimately affected lungs.

“My lovely petal, like is an understatement. You do all this for me, I don’t think I’m going to know how much this was, especially where we’re supposed to be budgeting.” Seb quirked his unbrushed brow, pressing his lips against the column of your throat, intaking the smell and pungent taste of your floral perfume. “But I’m not going to complain, because seeing you like this is certainly worth a fine penny. Is it ungrateful for me to want it off of you though?”

“Wait.” You instructed him, pressing your tongue into the divot of his chin, swiping a line of saliva through the bone structure. “I think we should get my money’s worth. First, I want to get my fill of your appreciation, and then maybe, maybe then I’ll allow you to discard piece by piece from my skin.” Your dominant hand pressed against his growing bulge as a you slid off his lap, running your nose along his thighs, as you fiddled with the purchase of his jeans, him helping you tug the denim off, and down his thick thighs.

“You’re so good to me.” He leaned back, curling his fists into the sheets, as he watched you enduringly pat him over his boxers, drawing a spot of precum to seep out onto the white cotton. “My beautiful petal, hungry for my cock, you want it, don’t you? Want to suck my hard cock, practically starving for it, ain’t ya?” Profusely nodding, you drooled as he twitched, and pushed down his underwear, revealing his uncut, and growing cock.

“Holy shit.” Escaped you as a breathy conjunction of two words, your palm reaching out to rotate his foreskin in your hand, pushing the layer back gently to reveal his hidden slit. Your tongue darted out over the flushed head, suckling on the sensitive portion, spoiling yourself with the salty taste of his aroused skin. “You have such a pretty cock baby.” Pressing a kiss along the length, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, before returning to the tip, swallowing down his cock in your throat.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend revelled in the pleasure, one of his hands capturing your hair in its hold, running his fingers through your locks as you bobbed your head. Gargled sounds choked out from your easing throat, as you continued your administrations, making Seb squeeze his eyes shut, as he endured the pleasure that you pledged him with. “Baby...”

You moaned around his cock, your glazed irises peeking up at him, before pulling off, a strand of saliva connecting you to his hung length. “Say it.” Was his demand as his hand pressed the cheeks of your face together, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout. It was a notion of past experiences that reminded you of what he was speaking of, you blinked your lashes innocently towards him, steadily breathing through your nose as he patiently awaited for you to carry out his order.

“I’m your cockslut.” You mumbled out, spit pooling out of your mouth and rolling down the cleavage of your lips, descending onto your chin, and slipping to be a river down your chest, playing hide and seek in the cups of your sheer bra. “Love your fat cock, and your large balls, and the way your mouth exhibits complete bliss over my pussy.” He tilted your head to the side, as he leaned down, his spare hand reaching behind you to remove your bra, leaving it hanging loosely off from your shoulders.

“How about I eat your cunt, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you petal?” A whine slipped from your lips as you shouldered off the floral laced bra, discarding it on the bedroom floor, as you waded your legs about so that you could do the same with the slim lined panties. “Come on then, get up on the bed pretty girl, let me at that pussy.” Doing as he said, you clambered onto the mattress, your front against the sheets as you tried to position yourself. A slap rumbled off your ass cheek, as Sebastian struck down on the globe of fat, straggling a surprised moan from your lips.

It seemed like he wanted you to remain on your stomach, and so you did as he breathed a swab of cool air upon your clenching lips, swiping his tongue from your heavy clit to your soaking entrance. “Sebs, do something, please.” You collapsed your face into the bed, wiggling your ass towards his face, earning yourself another spank to your behind. It stung, but it was a hot heat that granted you a minor bit of relief; it was certainly better than nothing.

And then, his tongue probed at your entrance, test tasting your cunt as his muscle flicked deliriously over your clit, his forefinger prying at your slit, and slipping without struggle inside of your walls, evoking a withering moan to collapse out from your chest. Another digit slunk through your folds, filling your further, as his pace increased, his mouth surrounding your clit, and rolling the bud around with his instigating tongue. “Petal, pass me the lube.”

With a light head, you blindly reached your hand across to on top of his bedside table, locating the bottle with your fiddling hands, tossing it back towards him. A thump indicates that it did not land on the mattress as planned, instead the container of lubricant hit him in the forehead. A frown covered his face as he shook his head, removing his fingers from your folds, as he grasped the bottle, splurging some of the clear and slippery liquid onto his fingertips.

Seb spread it around his fingers, rubbing it onto his skin, as he applied a little onto your tight hole, prying at your puckered entrance with his lubricated digits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gently rubbed your face against the sheets as Sebastian entered his fingers into your ass, quickly thrusting them in and out of you. “Feels so good Sebby, shit.” He continued his administrations with a clenched wrist, evicting pleasure upon you as you practically sobbed onto your shared bed. “No, no-“

He removed his fingers, as well as his own shirt that was still covering his chest. Seb clambered off the bed for a moment, locating a condom, as he gave his cock a couple of jerks, rolling the avast protection onto his length, as he positioned himself on his knees behind you. He entered you swiftly, returning his fingers back into your tighter hole, as he began to thrust into both of your entrances. Sounds of pleasure were compelled out from your lungs, as you half screamed his name; there were tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you endured wafts pleasure from both intimate angles.

He curled his fingers within you, picking up his pace as his hips profusely clashed against your own. He was chasing a high, whilst simultaneously reducing you to nothing but a racer to your own. “So fucking tight; in both holes.” His teeth clenched as he moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching harshly around him, as he filled the condom with his white and warm seed. He remained inside of you as he brought one hand down to your cunt, playing with your clit, as he sternly thrusted his fingers into your ass.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, cumming around his softened cock, and mewling into your own wrist. Sebastian extracted his tender cock from within you, also removing his fingers, as he swiped off the condom, tying to open side so that no cum would spill out, and then discarding it in the bin. “Shit, I was wanting some attention from you, but I didn’t know I was going to get that.” You laughed lightly, feeling a little hazy and drunk from your numbing orgasm.

In turn, your boyfriend laughed too, grabbing his shirt from off the ground, and lightly pulling you up, helping you into the baggy material. He pressed a sweet kiss upon your forehead as he rolled to be laid beside you, bringing your sweaty body into his matching side, watching through appeased lids at how you curled yourself into him. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too Seb.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his soft nipple, as his arms locked adoringly around you. “And I’m so proud of you for putting your all into your course.” Your nails stroked down his stomach, as the two of you laid upon the sheets, rather than underneath them.

“Of course I would, it’s for our future in the long term of things.” He stated, brushing any loose strands of hair out from your face. “But I guess it’s okay to take a break sometimes. And that, well that was certainly worth the time away from studying, it always is with you.”

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? part 11

[Full Masterlist] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All (Marked Chapters 18+) Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story.

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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‘No girls or Jungkook’s allowed! ’

The sign on the door filled you with so much anger. You had to physically remember to breathe, it wouldn’t do to start yelling at the hybrids, they already felt inferior and vulnerable compared to humans. You never wanted them to feel weak, which is why you were mad. You didn’t care if they wanted to exclude you, but you would give the two young men a strong lecture for even thinking about excluding Jungkook.

“Jimin and Taehyung I would like to talk with you,” you ripped the sign down and tore it up. It would be best to dispose of the evidence before the young man saw it. Seeing his hyungs ignoring him would break him, “If you are upset talk to me and I will try to fix the situation.”

There was no response so you sighed walking away pushing the small lump in your throat down, you heard them whispering and thought maybe they needed time. It was after lunch that you began wondering if they planned to lock themselves up all day. Jungkook sat on the soft rug looking at the video games and he smiled setting up the controllers as he looked between two games.

“Which one do you think is better?” Jungkook asked Seokjin who took one of the controllers and smiled, he read both and grinned and you stepped over sitting on the floor picking up a controller.

“I can play right, I think Jimin and Taehyung are talking about some things,” You smiled, nuzzling his hair for a second and leaning back on Seokjin’s legs. “So what are we playing, I have never played before?”

Namjoon ended up joining and Yoongi took a seat on your spare side on the rug and leaned on one of Seokjin’s legs laughing at your expense. “You missed, he was right there and you missed, he shot you,”

“Look, I am a Minecraft kind of videogamer, you know the sims?” You puffed your cheeks flailing as you tried to shoot Namjoon who was doing a lot of shouting and not a lot of aiming either.

Everyone was in stitches. You almost forgot about the other two boys who were feuding with you. It was late and you had played a series of driving and shooting games and a game of Minecraft; where you all made a village and lived side by side and visited each other's houses with food and tools.

“I am hungry,” Jungkook pouted, pulling your sleeve and glancing at the dark kitchen. You looked at the time, and your mouth dropped open. “When is dinner?”

“Let’s order in, I can’t be bothered cooking,” You ordered a bunch of food, making sure to get Jimin and Taehyung’s favorite dishes so that you could lure them out. They would no doubt be hungry.

The food was delivered and as you removed the lids you named the dishes loudly hoping the two locked away in their room would emerge and eat something.

It’s super effective!

You smile as everyone digs in. The two boys were obviously mad and jealous that you had slept in Jungkook’s room and you wondered how you would possibly be able to fix this.

“I will take Wednesdays,” Yoongi smiled “I like Wednesdays”

“What is he talking about?” Hoseok asked he was just as confused by the white tiger's outburst looking towards Namjoon who with a mouth full of noodles shrugged.

“Sunday’s you can sleep in Jungkook’s room, and mine on Wednesdays,”

“Oh I will take Monday’s” Hoseok smiled, brightly

“Monday is tonight” Jimin accused looking panicked, “fine, I will take Tuesday then”

“Can you sleep in my rooms on Wednesday?” Taehyung said,

“Wednesday is already taken,” Yoongi glared, placing some meat on Taehyung’s plate in an attempt to console him, “Take Thursday”

“Yes Thursday”

“I will take Saturday,” Jin grinned, “Which means Namjoon is Friday? Is that alright?”

You blinked watching this all unfold, they had just decided on their own sleep schedule for you. It was nice to see them working together but you didn’t know how to feel about moving rooms every night. But at this point, anything seemed more comfortable than the couch. “Maybe once and when I have stayed once in everyone's rooms, I will go back on the couch.”

“What if two people share a room and have bunk beds or something, then that leaves a free room for you?” Jimin said, grabbing some tteokbokki, “I can share with Hoseok or Taehyung or Jungkook, I can give you my room. It can be your own little space.”

“Oh, my room! My room!” Hoseok said, “I miss the sound of other people in the night, we can get bunk beds.”

Hoseok and Jimin grinned at one another, the two already talking about how they would design and decorate their room. Heading into the bathroom you cleaned up the clothes off the floor and dumped them in the hamper. It made you laugh how comfortable they were all getting enough to drop their clothes on the floor right beside the hamper.

Taking a rather warm shower you scrubbed your skin wondering if you would smell different again in the morning. It was a strange thought, once scrubbed and buffed clean you wrapped yourself in your towel and stood on the small mat in front of the basin. Examining your appearance, as you slowly moisturize your skin.

Whilst smoothing the cool night cream across your brow you thought you saw an orange tail in the mirror turning you thought Seokjin had burst into the bathroom to pee but when you turned nothing and nobody was there.

It left you feeling a little unsettled, it was your head playing tricks on you. Getting dressed you all but ran out into the hall smacking into Seokjin who was coming out of his room. You grasped his large shoulders to prevent yourself from falling back. He gripped your waist in response.

“Woah, what’s wrong, why are you scared?” He asked, his tail fluffed and his ears twitching looking for a threat. A few heads popped out of their rooms, “You reek of fear, what happened?”

“I spooked myself, one of the towels moved in the bathroom and I thought it was something else and I got scared, that’s all” Your voice died off with your rambling, and the blush settled upon your cheeks.

Hoseok walked over and took your hands, “don’t worry, you are staying in my room tonight so I will protect you!” His chipper tone did wonders to ease your distress, pulling you along to his room where he tucked the two of you into the bed.

“Thank you, I miss having people to talk to and just be there,” He smiled, “I am excited to get to stay with Jimin, he is such a nice guy.”

“He is a sweetheart when we were little we used to play together and he always wanted to play pirates and superheroes but on my 4th birthday no one from our school showed up to my princess party. So Jimin dressed up as a princess as did my carer Felix and his carer Astrid and we all shared snacks and cake”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!” Jimin’s voice screeched from the hallway seconds before rapid footsteps. His figure appeared in the doorway for a split second, his sock-clad feet slipping out from underneath him sending him sliding further down the hallway.

“I have pictures too,” You giggled

“Send them to me.” Yoongi’s tired drawl came from a few rooms up and you grinned airdropping them around the house. Jimin tried to wrestle the phone from your hands and you grinned, pulling him onto the bed.

“Time for bed Jimin, lay down or get out.” he indeed snuggled up on your other side, Hoseok and Jimin's arms wrapped around you and you were indeed feeling quite safe from your previous scare.

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Tags:  @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf  @ella-mella @lustremyg @sonnymii @moments-of-melancholy @calling-dips-on-j-hope @jiminiessipabo @staerryminimini @afangirl91 @halfway-insane @ireallylikeyourwriting @lindsayjoy444 @lindsay1013 @bangtansleftnut​ @chimchoom​ (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

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[alottanothing]

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

[grandhotelabyss]

Commentary from me on this topic is becoming superfluous. But if you’re new to Grand Hotel Abyss, I’ve finally gathered my most substantive trendspotting posts about how we got here under the tag “The New Conservatism” in homage to Ashbery’s lines from what I think (though I wasn’t alive then) must have been a similar moment in American culture: “The new conservatism is / Sitting down beside you.” (Or standing next to you, clutching your slim waist.)

Since Jones went on their show or something (I’m not a Patreon subscriber), this counts toward our audiovisual Monday. If you need more audiovisuals, here he is a very brief clip from Linklater’s A Scanner Darkly from 2006, the last moment of Jones’s prior bout with counterculture respectability. I remember leftists and libs quoting him unabashedly during the Bush administration, which habit, like the ubiquity of 9/11 trutherism, everybody agreed to pretend never happened when they updated their definition of “fascism” to mean something like the opposite of what it meant circa 2006, for the strange reason that Trump in his most lucid moments sounded like a leftist from 2006. 

I started the novel A Scanner Darkly but never finished it—too confusing! I don’t know how I feel about its author, an ambivalence you can trace through this essay, this essay, and (more audiovisuals!) this video lecture. Not irrelevantly, he once wrote:

Although appearing left wing my training is really Fascistic—not “Fascistic” as Marxist rhetoric defines it but as Mussolini defined it: in terms of the deed & the will, with reality de-ontologized, reduced to mere stuff on which the will acts in terms of deed. Since few living people correctly understand (genuine) Fascism, my ideology has never been pejoratively stigmatized by the left, but those to whom I appeal are in essence the core-bulk of latent masses, the fascist mob. I speak of & for the irrational & the anti-rational, a kind of dynamic nihilism in which values are generated as mere tactics. Thus my real idol is Hitler, who starting out totally disenfranchised rose to total power while scorning wealth (aristocracy) plutocracy to the end. My real enemy is plutocracy; I’ve done my (Fascistic) homework. […] My fascistic premise is: “There is no truth. We make truth; what we (first) believe becomes objectively true. Objective truth depends on what we believe, not the other way around.” This is the essence of the Fascist epistemology, the perception of truth as ideology imposed on reality—mind over matter.

As for Jones, I used to put him down as a limited-hangout artist, a licensed jester, someone ultimately on some payroll, and that might even be true, but I was probably naive then, assuming organic cultural developments where there mostly aren’t any, everybody being on somebody’s payroll in the end. (I mean, I’m not, but I’m pretty sick of it and will entertain reasonable offers.)

How about a new kind of hermetic conservatism And suffering withdrawal symptoms of same? Let’s get on with it...

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 1

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 1

1993

Professor Liam Beyer was born a decade after the deaths of the last soldiers to fight in the US Civil War. Thus, he was not expecting to meet a Union Army veteran in his 4 o’clock symposium on the Battle of Antietam.

Liam noticed the man as soon as he walked in, and not just because it was odd for a member of the public to show up for a faculty lecture at the university. No, the man caught Liam’s attention because he was distractingly handsome. Literally, Liam was distracted enough to drop his pen onto the overhead projector, causing a giant shadow to loom over the map of Maryland on the screen behind him, as if a third army had materialized there in a dense offensive line.

The man was of average height, with a slender build. He had dark hair in a short, modern cut and wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with a faded label. He looked like he might be thirty, which was about the age Liam was, and so Liam did not immediately assume that the man had seen action in the Civil War. But there was something faintly strange about him, just in the way that he walked, light on his feet like a dancer, but stepping firmly, without a dancer’s well-practiced grace.

“General Lee,” Liam continued, in a slightly strangled voice, “of the Confederate Army, was, of course, outnumbered, but the battle was Union General McClellan’s to lose. Had he understood how superior his force was, had he taken more risks, he might have been able to deal a decisive blow to Lee’s army as it retreated. In fact, McClellan’s performance at Antietam was part of the reason that President Lincoln later removed him from duty.”

Liam put up a transparency of a white church with peeling paint, standing alone on a grassy rise. “On September 17, 1862, 7,650 soldiers died at Antietam, making it the bloodiest day for Americans in history. Two days later, a man named Alexander Gardner took some of the first widely-seen battlefield photographs of dead soldiers. Some were awaiting burial, and some were still lying where they fell. It was very difficult at the time to take photographs of battles themselves, as the technology involved careful treatment of glass negatives, and that was nearly impossible under battlefield conditions. But the dead do not move, and these photographs were so clear that when displayed in New York, family members recognized their fallen sons.”

Liam put up a transparency of one of Gardner’s photographs, young men lying on the ground in an oddly perfect line. The unknown man looked away.

oOo

Liam had grading to do after his symposium, but he walked to the campus union to grab a sandwich first. He was definitely not expecting Handsome Unknown Lecture Man to appear out of the crowd and drop into the seat opposite him. Liam was very proud that he did not choke on his bite of ham and swiss.

“I hope you don’t mind,” said the man. “I enjoyed your lecture. My name is Kurt.”

Liam put his hand out to shake. Kurt’s touch was faintly cold. “Liam,” he said.

Kurt cocked his head slightly to the side, as if assessing him. “I know. Liam Beyer, 27, assistant professor of history, specializing in battles. Is Antietam your favorite?”

“Um— one of them. I did my dissertation on it. On McClellan, specifically.” Liam felt slightly odd about the fact that this stranger knew who he was, but of course, it was all publicly accessible information. “Are you a Civil War buff?”

“Somewhat.” Kurt leaned back in his chair. “Antietam, god. I remember Bloody Lane— that’s what they called it after. The road was sunken in because so many wagons had gone by over the years. It was like trying to fight your way out of your own grave trench.” Kurt spoke with a faint accent that Liam could not place, something that seemed to shift from one place to another.

“You talk like you were there,” Liam said, smiling. “Are you a reenactor?”

Kurt gave a sharp laugh. “No. You?”

“I’ve been a technical advisor. It’s nice to meet other people who share my strange obsession.”

“Those pictures you showed,” Kurt said. “Photography is such a bewitching art. Those boys are long gone, but remain ever present in death.”

“You know, the war helped make Spiritualism popular,” Liam said. “It was so hard on the families back home to lose contact with their soldiers, not knowing what happened to them, or when, or where. They couldn’t bear it, and turned to mediums.”

Kurt smiled, and it made his bright green eyes sparkle with amusement. “Have you ever been to a seance?” he asked. Liam shook his head. “Most I’ve been to were quite boring,” Kurt said. “But every once in awhile—”

“That sounds like a good story.”

“I’ll tell you sometime.” Liam’s brain was already far too occupied with how attractive he found this poor man, and that was probably why the sentence sounded more like a salacious promise than it really was.

“So what do you do?” Liam asked faintly, crumpling his empty sandwich wrapper. “Are you a student?”

“Not at the moment. Just a fan of history. Of battles, actually.” Kurt leaned forward a little. “Liam, would you mind if I came to your office tomorrow to talk more? I have some questions and I think you might be the one to help me answer them.”

“I— of course.” Liam told himself that he agreed solely because he liked to talk about history with people, and that it didn’t matter whether or not said people were ridiculously attractive.

Kurt smiled at him again. “Until tomorrow then.”

On his way out of the dining hall, Liam was stopped by a student with a question about an assignment on Gettysburg. “I didn’t want to interrupt your dinner,” she said.

“Oh, it would have been fine,” Liam told her. “We were talking about the Civil War ourselves.”

The student gave him a confused look. “Dr. Beyer— weren’t you eating alone?”

oOo

In the end, Liam decided that as he’d never dreamed up a handsome man in quite so much detail before, that the student had been mistaken and simply had not noticed Kurt’s presence at Liam’s table.

And yet. There really was something very strange about the man. Liam couldn’t quite pin it down, just that there was a disconnect between what Liam was seeing and what he was feeling about him. For example, Kurt appeared to be thirty, but Liam would swear he was older. Kurt had looked perfectly natural at dinner, but it had also seemed like he didn’t quite fit in with his surroundings. Like if you’d taken a photograph of him at the table, he would have been slightly too bright, out of focus, or without a shadow.

Kurt’s knock on Liam’s office door finally came around eleven, and Liam was, he realized, far too happy to see him again. At first, nothing about the visit seemed terribly odd. They discussed Antietam again, then traveled forward to the Somme, and then much farther back, Megiddo and Kadesh. Kurt seemed to know less about those battles, Liam noted, but he was quite familiar with things taking place after Thermopylae in the 5th century BC.

It was easy to talk to Kurt, especially about interests they had in common, and as the conversation went on, Kurt seemed to relax a bit, which made Liam do the same. The day before, Liam had thought Kurt moved without grace, but that wasn’t exactly right. Kurt had a different kind of grace, a fluidity of small movements instead of large ones, an artistry shown in the fluttering of fingers while the rest of the man kept entirely still. The emphasis on such small motions seemed to draw Liam in, narrowing his focus away from his surroundings and onto his visitor. But at the same time, Kurt had such an air of other about him, that it was almost like Liam was looking at him through beveled glass, never quite getting the whole image at once.

However, Liam’s sense of ease around Kurt vanished entirely when another student knocked on Liam’s door with a question about an assignment. That in itself was perfectly normal, but during the whole time that the student was in Liam’s office, she didn’t speak to Kurt or apologize for interrupting their conversation. She didn’t give a single look to the chair that Kurt occupied beside Liam’s desk.

When the student had left, Liam leaned back in his chair, trying to fake the calmness that he no longer felt. “All right,” he said, watching his visitor carefully. “You want to tell me why I’m the only person who can see you?”

********

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Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

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