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paisley-print · 3 years

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10:00pm / Happy Birthday

About: It’s Jack’s Birthday and you planned something special.

Warnings: Marriage problems, infidelity, alcohol.

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Note: You wanna see some real speed boy? (Months of not posting and two chapters in less then 24 hours. Whack.)

Series Master List

@scorpionerd @just-here-for-the-moment@sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @ohyeasam @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13

“Hi Jack, it’s....” you glance over at the clock on the stove, checking the time. “It’s ten. I’m calling to see when you’ll be home. Okay, love you, bye.” You played the message back, cringing a little at the way your words slurred together, but sent it, anyway.

You reached over to pour yourself another glass of wine. It was your third one, but you were already feeling the effects. He said he would be home at seven. If you knew he was going to work overtime tonight, you wouldn’t have spent all day rushing around.

Your stomach hurt just thinking about the tray of lasagna and birthday cake you spent hours working on. Still though, you wanted to wait to eat until he got home.

This year had to be better than the last. You doubted whether you could make it through another twelve months of silence. Plus, with the whole Ezra thing, you needed a grand gesture to show that you were willing to work on this. He cared for you; he had said it. He loved you. He would always love you, and although he looked through you as if peering at a specter, you believed him. You hadn’t been the best wife these last few months, so you felt as though you owed him this.

Tonight was just for him, and everything had been prepared perfectly. His favorite movie on the TV, beers in the fridge, birthday gift all wrapped on the nightstand upstairs. Months ago, he mentioned a pair of cuff links his father used to wear while the two of you were combing through old photo albums you had found in the attic. They were square, with yellow gold trim and two crossed six-shooter pistols set into a background of black onyx.

Jack’s father left when Jack was nine, and one of the few happy memories he had was the day his father brought home his first suit for Sunday mass. His father taught him how to make sure his shirt wasn’t creased, how to wear a necktie, comb his hair back with gel, and finally the importance of cuff links.

While looking over the photograph, Jack had mentioned liking the style of the cuff links in passing, but you could see they held quite a bit of emotional value. After that, you had spent weeks tracking down the exact set. With the help of a Reddit board, a few antique shop owners and one generous seller on Etsy, you secured a pair identical to those in the photograph.

Keeping the secret had been tough. You almost let it slip a few times, but you will yourself to go on a little longer. The surprise would be that much more meaningful if you gave it to him on his birthday…. if he ever planned to show up, that is.

As you finished another glass, you stood from the table and walked into the guest bathroom to reapply your lipstick. A few hours ago, your makeup was perfect, but it was now looking smudged. You tried to fix it as best you could while the room around you spun.

You had one of his dress shirts, with thigh-high stockings and a new lilac set of lingerie you bought specifically for this occasion, and heels you took off about three hours ago. You felt so incredibly ugly looking at your reflection, and you weren’t sure why. A few hours ago you were on top of the world, now you were willing yourself not to cry.

Once you were done touching up your lipstick, you grabbed another glass of wine and took a seat on the couch. It was then your phone buzzed, and a number you recognized popped up on the screen.

You picked it up, becoming aware of how fast your heart was beating in your chest. “Hello?”

“Little bird?” Ezra’s voice came floating over the receiver. “Forgive me for calling at this hour, but I was becoming worried about your lack of response to my messages. Noticed your car in town today on my way to work and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You felt guilt grip tightly at your chest. He had sent you a few texts since the night of the shooting. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. This man was bad for you. It didn’t matter how much you liked him; you were a married woman trying to work on your relationship. Ezra knew that, he should respect you and understand why you weren’t jumping to text him back.

“I’m fine” your aid.

He paused, hearing the way you were slurring your words. “Little bird-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” you snapped, anger rising out of you from nowhere. “I’m not your little bird, okay? I have a fucking name.”

Ezra seemed incredibly taken off guard “my apologies-”

“And I need you to stop texting me and calling me. Whatever the fuck you think we had, we didn’t. You were convenient, that’s all. I think it’s seriously creepy how you keep trying to hit on me when you know I’m married. Seriously, go find yourself a real fucking girlfriend and stop trying to ruin my marriage.”

The silence that followed was deafening, so you continued, “okay? Please get out of my life.”

“Understood,” he said simply. “Have a nice night.”

You hung up the phone and threw it onto the other side of the couch.

It was nearly 5:00am when Jack finally came through the door. The first thing he noticed was the half empty bottle of wine left open on the table, then you, asleep on the couch. He set down his satchel and locked the door behind him. Then he went around, shutting out the lights, then the tv. Once he was done, he sat next to you and rubbed your arm to wake you up.

His patience was running thin. He had wished you up in bed by the time he got home, asleep, so he didn’t have to deal with any of this. “‘Y/n’ come on. Time to go to bed.”

You drew in a slow breath and blinked at him as you woke. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol burning bright. “What time is it?” you mumbled, sitting up.

“Come on, I’m gonna pick you up. Ready?”

You nodded and allowed him to stand you up and put you over his shoulder. You noticed how his shirt was untucked in the back.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you down on the bed. He moved towards the closet but took his hand and stood. He sighed in annoyance and moved his face away as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Happy birthday,” you smiled, the heat from the alcohol making your face feel warm.

“Not my birthday anymore,” he said, trying to gently pull away from you.

Some part of you knew you were making a fool out of yourself. “I got a gift for you-”

He shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

The words stung. You let go, your eyes widening, like you were about to cry. Then you realized what he thought you meant by gift. He knew you were too drunk to sleep with, so implying that he would have offended him.

You laughed, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “No, not like that. I’m sorry about - I. I drank when I was cooking because I thought you would be home earlier.” You noticed a smudge of pink on the inside of his collar. Then you noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie either. You lifted your hand, intending to touch it “What’s-”

He jerked back, then turned, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You jumped at the sound and the way it made the photos hung on the wall rattle. You weren’t exactly sure what you did or saw to deserve a response like that.

When you heard the shower turn on, you figured you would get ready for bed yourself, but before you did, you withdrew the gift from the nightstand and placed it on his side of the bed. After that, you made your way to the guest bathroom to take off your makeup, then back downstairs to heat up some food. Nausea was already beginning to set in. You needed something in your stomach. While you were down there, you made a point to pack some leftovers in Tupperware containers that he could grab on his way out the door in the morning.

You slept in the guest room that night, figuring it was best to allow him space. He left before you woke, but you could have sworn you felt the mattress dip sometime in the morning and a soft touch come up to smooth down your hair. It could have very well been a dream though. The hangover was a bad one, and it was times like this you realize your age was catching up with you more quickly then you would like to acknowledge. Your plan for the rest of the day was to clean, mostly because you didn’t know what else to do and if you sat mulling over the events of last night it would just make you sad.

#Jack Daniels x you #Whiskey x you #Agent whiskey x Reader #Agent whiskey x you #Agent whiskey fanfic #Kingsmen Fanfiction #Kingsmen Fanfic #Pedro fanfic #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal Fanfiction

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crazymisscarly · 3 years

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OBVIOUSLY I’m gonna ask about: Bughead sexcapades !!!

Oh God, my inner puritan is *blushing* right now. I started writing this like... over a year ago and I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it. I low key got tired of re-reading all the season 2 era bughead smut fanfics on ao3 (because believe me, i’ve read them all) and decided to give it a go myself. I’m not very explicitly smutty when I write, I prefer to allude to things or just graze the surface. not to say that I don’t like including sex scenes in my works - I just tend to steer clear of anything graphic.

Since I don’t know if I’ll actually finish it, I’ll post it here in its current entirety. For context, it’s meant to go through all of bughead’s ‘sexcapades’ throughout the early series, all the unseen intimate moments between them from their kitchen makeout scene in 1x13 up until they actually do the deed in 2x12, and possibly even exploring how their relationship changed and strengthened afterwards -- I 100% would name it something else if it ever went up on ao3, but for now, bughead sexcapades is the working title hahahahaa

Who knows, maybe going through my old WIPs thanks to this game might’ve just inspired me to keep writing it aahahaha

Betty had been honest with her mother; the night of Riverdale’s 75th Jubilee, her and Jughead almost had sex when they went back to FP’s trailer.

They didn’t talk about it beforehand, and really, both had been too distracted by the Black Hood shooting Fred Andrews to properly discuss it with each other afterwards. But somewhere between Betty removing her pink coat and Jughead lifting her up and near-slamming her against the kitchen cabinets, both of them were completely aware of what was about to happen.

But then Jughead changed schools, and there was less time to spend with each other, and the nerves set in. They started making out once or twice, and both of them could feel the urge to connect with each other in the most intimate of ways… but had always been interrupted.

Their first post-“shirtless in the trailer kitchen” make out was in the Red and Black office; Jughead deepened their kiss and pulled Betty towards his body as he leaned back against a desk - it reminded him of the Blue and Gold, their haven of intelligence gathering (and their place to escape for a few moments alone during school hours). Their near-hookup in FP’s trailer had ignited some kind of flame in both of them; they weren’t as cautious with touching, the familiar comfortability giving both of them the confidence to explore each other’s bodies in their own nervous way - Jughead’s hands strayed from Betty’s cheeks to her neck, then to her waist, and he hoped that maybe he’d get to move his hands even lower...

But still, they’d been interrupted - then, and any other subsequent time, whether by friends or Betty’s mother calling her to come home. So much so that sex seemed like it was going to become an impossible mission that not even Tom Cruise could achieve.

When they had finally found the time to be alone, shortly after Jughead drag raced the Ghoulies and Betty admitted that she didn’t really want to break up with Jughead (in fact, that was not what she’d asked Archie to do), they’d both overthought the possibility of sex so much that neither was certain whether they were actually ready for it, or if their intensifying emotions were the result of the life-threatening happenings in their hometown.

“We’ll know when it feels like the right time, Betts.” Jughead reassured her after she wiggled out from under him on the trailer’s bed; Jughead had claimed it after FP was imprisoned, but Betty was struggling to think of it as being anything other than Jughead’s parents bed. And something about having sex in it felt... off.

Betty sighed. “I want you, Juggie, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

Less than two weeks earlier she’d practically torn her and Jughead’s shirts off in an effort to get closer to him. But today, lying on her back beneath her boyfriend, on a bed, her thighs cradling is hips as they kissed (hot, open mouthed kisses) as though her body was in control and her brain was just following its lead, sex just seemed so much more real - and the butterflies in her stomach threatened to swallow her up. Betty knew having sex would change something between them that couldn’t be reversed, and she’d only just gotten him back. She didn’t want to risk losing him by doing too much too fast.

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with you.” Jughead said quickly; his eyes betrayed the mild panic he felt. “We both have to be feeling completely comfortable and ready or it’s not going to work out - and I read that on Reddit, so we can reasonably believe it’s true.” He smirked as his eyes met hers.

Betty giggled. “Did you find a thread called ‘how to have sex’ and use the replies as research?” She brushed a stray lock of hair from Jughead’s forehead.

Jughead’s cheeks were turning pink. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Well, that’s, ah - that wasn’t the exact title…”

Betty smiled and reached out to take his hand. “Hey, comfortable, right?” She leaned over and kissed him. Although she still wasn’t completely sure about sex itself, kissing Jughead and feeling his arms wrap around her was a great experience in itself.

Jughead leaned into her, his body coming dangerously close to pinning her down into the mattress. He groaned quietly as Betty kissed his neck, and Betty felt the sound all the way down her navel, and lower…

He felt Betty lightly pushing his chest, and he rolled onto his back so she could straddle him. His body felt like it was on fire. The feel of her, pressed against him, had him filled with desires he didn’t know could exist. Everywhere Jughead touched her felt hot, and her mouth on his was like a fulfilling heat that awakened every nerve inside him. He trailed his hands down to her hips and pulled her up his body slightly so she was straddling his lower abdomen instead of his lap, fearing that if he left her there then this would be over before it even really started.

Betty pulled away from his mouth, her eyes a mixture of lust and vulnerability that had Jughead’s breath coming out in laboured gasps. “Juggie?” she asked in a breathy moan.

Oh God and yes were the only words in Jughead’s mind. “Ye-yeah?” He forced out when he could focus.

“It’s getting kind of late…” She bit her bottom lip for a moment. Jughead’s grip on her hips tightened at the sight. “I could tell my Mom I’m staying over at Veronica’s… that’s if, you know… you don’t want me to go.” Her eyes searched Jughead’s.

Jughead’s mind was swimming, and he would have been embarrassed that it took him so long to figure out what she meant if he could even think at all. “Um, yes, that's a great idea.” She probably could have asked him to paint himself blue and go to school dressed as a Smurf and he would have agreed, so long as she stayed right where she was.

Betty smiled and laughed softly. The vibrations sent tingly jolts through Jughead’s body and he couldn’t contain the groan that escaped his mouth. Betty’s eyes lit up for a moment before she blushed and looked down at his chest. She ran her fingers up his chest softly, and Jughead placed his hands on her cheeks to pull her down for another kiss.

This kiss felt deeper than the others. Betty’s tongue slipped into his mouth. One of Jughead’s hands slid into Betty’s hair as the other wrapped around her back. Her chest pressed deliciously up against his. She was so warm, right now and every day. And she freely gave him her warmth, no strings attached. Betty’s love warmed his heart, his body, his mind - he gravitated towards it every day, and gave it back to her in the form of light brushes of fingers, a hand in her hand, a gentle nudging of her shoulder...

And her smiles… wow.

Jughead’s heart was beating faster than he’d ever felt it beat as Betty started kissing and sucking on his neck. He’d never been so closely entangled with Betty before, and all he wanted was to get even closer. As close as two people could get…

But he wasn’t going to push the point, not when they both had reasons to hesitate.

“Can I…” Betty said nervously. “Do you want me to…” her hand slid down his chest, over his hip (his breath hitched as her fingers met the skin where his shirt had ridden up) and rested on his thigh. She squeezed his thigh just a little, and Jughead couldn’t believe how sensitive it was; how good it felt.

#riverdale fanfiction #bughead fanfiction #bughead #betty and jughead #bughead wip #my fics

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noirandchocolate · 2 years

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AITA for trying to get my Christmas-hating housemate to celebrate Christmas

I (20f) moved into my housemate’s (20-somethingm) home a few months ago. My housemate comes from a wealthy family, and his lifestyle reflects that: this is a very large house with a lot of extra rooms and beautiful antique furnishings, and he has live-in staff to prepare meals, clean, etc. Like, I just found out he even has specific guys on his payroll who chop wood for the fireplaces and make sure the heating system works. Wow, right?

Anyway, my housemate has never held a job and acts pretty spoiled if I’m being honest. He yells at the workers on his property for even the slightest mistakes, his room is a disaster area, he’s impatient, and--kind of weird--he insists we eat all our meals together and gets mad when I go out without him and made me promise I’d never do that again. On the other hand, I can be kind of headstrong myself, and if he really gets out of line with me I do shout right back at him. And recently, I have discovered he does have a bit of a softer side in there, and I think that with some help he could learn to grow up and take responsibility for his actions and not lash out so much. He’s been nicer to me the past couple weeks and I feel like we’re actually becoming friends instead of “just” housemates.

But right now, I’m stumped, because earlier today I offered to help him and his staff decorate the house for Christmas, to brighten up the place and maybe cheer him up with some fun activities together. He totally flew off the handle at me! Literally without provocation beyond me asking. He said he “hates Christmas” and forbade the rest of us from celebrating. He then went and locked himself in his room and I heard him listening to broody classical music; he always gets like that when he’s super upset about something.

Now here’s where I might be the asshole. See, I really like Christmas. It’s a time of year for joy and hope, and I was really hoping to share that with my housemate! I want to pull him out of his depressive funk and have some light in his life. I even made him a handcrafted gift I think he’ll love! So, I went ahead with my decorating plans while he was locked upstairs, and left the house with one of the staff’s son to pick out a tree in the forest near my housemate’s property. On the way back I had an accident and fell into a frozen lake and I think I almost died. Luckily somebody snitched to my housemate that I left, because he found me and brought me back, though I don’t remember much because of almost drowning.

But now my housemate is really, really furious at me and said I “broke my word” about leaving the house without him even though I was going to come right back, and he’s redoubled his insistence that he will never, ever celebrate Christmas. I feel kind of bad for putting him through having to save my life because I wouldn’t have been in that situation if I’d just respected his wishes. And I know he’s been through a lot and that people tend to judge him on appearances without getting to know that he can be very sweet if he tries. Still, I don’t think I’m wrong that Christmas is a fun holiday that could bring some hope into his life if he gave it a chance, and I don’t think it was fair of him to lock me in this dungeon to “rot forever.”

So, Reddit, AITA?

Edit: A lot of you are asking why I live with this guy. It’s an odd situation but my father got caught trespassing on my housemate’s property and he said he wouldn’t press charges against my dad if I agreed to live here. I love my dad and he’s getting on in years so I don’t want him to go to jail, also our finances aren’t great so it’s just better if I stay here for right now.

Edit 2: Yes, I KNOW my housemate is throwing up major red flags! I know that! But trust me, it could be worse. Where I lived before this there was a guy in town who kept stalking me and insisting I marry him even though we couldn’t be less compatible. At least my housemate isn’t a misogynist looking for a trophy wife/bangmaid! And you should see the size of his library--nerdy bookworm that I am, I’m happy with that part of living here, at least!

Update: Okay it turned out my housemate just has really, really low self-esteem regarding his appearance and doesn’t like Christmas parties because they remind him of some traumatic stuff in his past. Also he was listening to this shitty “friend” of his who kept telling him that love and friendship are a manipulative prison he shouldn’t bother with, and that’s been fueling his depression and mood swings. That friend literally just tried to kill us and destroy our house but my housemate ripped him apart and now he’s dead. And my housemate said we can celebrate Christmas after all! So, thanks so much for your answers, Reddit, but we can consider this problem solved!

#kidk says stuff #we watched a movie last night can you guess which one it was?

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spongebob-autisticquestions · 3 years

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So I posted this story on Reddit of what happened this weekend, and decided to copy-paste it here. I'm still very annoyed

"Firstly, until this January, I lived with my parents, my older brother and younger sister.

My relationship with my brother has always been strained to some point. We have clashing personalities and thoughts. I'm autistic and he's frequently poked fun of autism, commonly using the r slur and whatnot. When I lived with my parents, we'd do stuff like watch Pokémon together at night or play video games because it was what we had in common. At this point I need to emphasise, he's 29 and I'm 27.

However, he never liked it when things wouldn't go his way. If I agreed to something, I'd have to do it otherwise he'd call me a liar or other insults. He's also had problematic opinions, for example he once asked me if my partner was trans (assuming male to female) in a very judgmental tone. For that reason I've never felt comfortable telling him personal stuff, which he fails to understand and thinks I'm just "keeping stuff from him". (I'm currently closeted trans from him and I worry how he's going to react when the day comes that he discovers the truth. I also should mention my partner is non-binary, so I will be using they/them pronouns for them.)

Anyway, last January I moved out into my own apartment with my partner (well, they'd stay with me sometimes, but also had a lodging arrangement elsewhere.) The first month, I admittedly didn't keep in touch with my brother due to a lot going on, such as the sudden serious surgery for my partner, and work and whatnot. By March, I was kinda scared to contact him due to fear he'd get angry for not talking (ironic, I know.)

Later in March, my brother got in touch and we agreed I'd come to my parents' home to visit for Easter. Unfortunately a few days before Easter, my partner's landlady tried to get in touch over rent payment when they were working. My partner is autistic and hates phone calls, and also can't phone at work, so they requested the landlady talk over text. She got overdramatic, demanding to call and then they gave an ultimatum for my partner to collect their stuff in 2 weeks or it will all be thrown out. (I should mention, the landlady was very abusive.)

Because of this, we had to figure out a way to move their stuff into my apartment. I called my parents and asked if they would be able to help us, and my mum suggested going the day before Easter, and I'd come home once their stuff was in my place.

My partner's autistic, and during the day we were getting all the stuff moved, the fact they were in the presence of their abuser and also trying to get stuff out as fast as possible resulted in them having a bad meltdown. My mum managed to get us all to agree we'd take half the stuff home today, and then do the rest of the job Easter Sunday. Now, because of the meltdown, I opted to stay at my place with my partner to make sure they would be okay. That was when my brother called angrily, accusing me of breaking my promise and trying to say my partner was manipulating me.

The next day, my mum came to help us get the rest of my partner's stuff. As we were packing, I got a very angry text from my brother, insulting me, saying I ruined Easter, insulting my partner, and telling me not to bother coming home. I told my mum that I would love to come home, but couldn't as I did not feel comfortable in the presence of my brother. It was at that point I decided to stop talking to him for a while until he calmed down.

Around late May, we were having washing issues as due to work, the only day we could go to the laundromat was on a Saturday, and they were only accepting appointments in advance due to Covid. My partner tried to call but the laundromat said they were fully booked. I asked my mum, who was visiting, if she'd be okay with washing our clothes at her house and my mum happily accepted. We weren't trying to take advantage, we were happily going to repay them for their kindness. My dad also told me my brother was complaining that I never called him, so I agreed to give my brother a call.

However, that night I received yet another horrible text from my brother. He was angry as he couldn't wash his clothes as my mother was washing ours, and apparently he needed to get his washed for work the next day. He sent a horrible text calling me a failure, and giving multiple insults to my partner. After that, I decided I wasn't going to call or speak to him.

That takes us to this week. My brother got back in touch earlier this week, and we agreed I'd visit this weekend, apparently I'd agreed I'd stay the night to watch Pokémon with him. That weekend I'd also be getting my haircut at my parents' home by a family friend (we were all getting our haircuts, the friend was getting paid), so it made sense to spend the night that weekend. However, as the time got closer, I started having second thoughts. I realised I still wasn't comfortable spending the night when he'd be there, especially since I didn't want to go back in the closet about being trans, and with all the insults he gave to me and my partner. I also remembered I also had important stuff to do the following day regarding work. Additionally, it bothered me that he did not understand the fact I had my own place with my own issues, and I couldn't just sped the night because he wanted me to. When he found out, he called me angry, and tried pressing me to confirm if I would stay the night or not. I knew what his tactic was, so I tried not to confirm anything, and he just hung up on me before I could explain further....

That leads to today, when I went back home to visit. He asked me if I was staying the night, and when I said I couldn't, he started a very angry and somewhat abusive speech. He called me a snake, a liar, a monster, and that "I've changed". He went on about how I never talked to him, and I responded with how it's because of how nasty he's been with his texts. He acted all offended about how I wouldn't spend time with him at night, and how most people he knew who moved out usually visited for weekends regularly, I retaliated that many people who still live close, like I do, usually visit for the day. (I refrained from telling him he's the reason I don't visit, because I don't like his abuse. I will admit I really need to speak to my sister more, as she's done nothing wrong, but that's more because when it comes to her, I just don't know what to talk or ask about.)

He also brought up my partner, and how I shouldn't "get our family involved in their stuff because they are not family" (his words, not mine.) I got angry about this and cited how I couldn't just let them struggle with moving out of the other place, and my parents were happy to help. He was angry because it "ruined his and my sister's day". Mind you, my sister said nothing and he has a habit of exaggerating. He cited that if he had a partner, he would go to the family for help with her issues, and how partners should seek help from their family and their friends. He also threatened that if he found my partner's laundry in the house again, he would cut it up with scissors personally.

All this just pisses me off. It makes me feel like I'm the asshole, although he doesn't realise his entitlement and judgmental behaviour is what causes me to not want to be around him."

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goodbadsandwitch · 3 years

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Need help identifying an entity

I posted this on reddit, but it got taken down by the mods within seconds. I figured I might have more luck here. Exposition below the cut.

I've been practicing witchcraft for over a year now, but I've considered myself spiritual since I was a young teen and I've read tarot for about three years. For most of my journey, I considered myself Wiccan and practiced Wicca (my year and a day fell during quarantine so I couldn't really celebrate.) However, something's reaching out to me, and it's not the Triple Goddess or the Horned God.

A month ago, I found a candle that I liked (never used for spellwork) and lit it while I was doing some busy work. Almost immediately, it started flickering and popping, as well as releasing smoke signal-like puffs. I grabbed my tarot deck for a reading, because it was pretty obvious that something was reaching out to me. After warding and cleansing, I did a reading. I followed the candle flame's lead when selecting cards, and then did a short Q&A session. Basically, the entity introduced itself by telling me that I was following the right path, but that I should stop calling myself Wiccan immediately if I wanted to continue. They weren't a messenger or a spirit, but something else. The cards indicated that they were young, had some connection to family, and they were interested in working with me. I tried to do a pendulum reading, but it didn't work too well (my hands have a tremor).

That's when things started to get strange. While I was doing the Q&A and the pendulum, the flame began to split in two, almost like horns. The entity assured me it wasn't a demon, but couldn't tell me why they were displaying themself that way. I wrapped up and cut off contact, then cleansed myself again.

I was pretty shaken up, but that night I was hanging out with friends and one asked for a reading (from my friends & family/public deck). I did a few pretty in depth readings, and during the last one he stood up very quickly and blew out a scented candle he had lit. When I asked why, he said that as I was doing the reading, the flame began to split like I had described earlier.

I did some research and between this and some other omens, I thought it was possibly Hephaestus, Aphrodite, or Dionysus. I wasn't looking for a deity, but I'm open to working with one. Since then, I've done a lot of personal protection work, just in case it was something malevolent.

I lit a different candle last night to relax while I did some tarot research, and the candle immediately began flickering and dancing. I set the boundary that I hadn't opened myself up to contact, and that I would talk to them when I was ready. They seemed to understand and the flame mellowed out for the rest of the night.

Today, I made contact again and did some more tarot pulls. The results were all over the place, but a few cards made a reappearance from the first pull. Many of the cards dealt with youth, but the Queen of Pentacles (associations with Taurus/bulls and horns) and the Five of Pentacles showed up too. At one point, I said that I would pull one card to get a straight answer on their identity, and they made two fall out while I was shuffling- the Seven of Swords and the Hanged Man.

Frankly, I'm very confused. I'd love some guidance here, because I'm not sure how to work with an entity who won't show themself to me. I've done everything I can think of, and many of my witch/pagan friends have done readings/research for me to no avail. Do you know who it might be? I can offer specific cards for all the readings if that will help.

Sorry for the length of this post, but the exposition is kind of important. Blessed be, y'all!

#new witch #deity work #deity worship #beginner witch #witchcraft #witchblr #tarot #candle magic

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Weather

Genre: Weatherman!Jin, Metropolis/loosely based off comic books, Rivalry, soft Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jin/Male Reader

Warnings: all the sexual tension lol, hurricanes

Synopsis: The rival weatherman at Channel 5 just so happens to be Kim Seokjin who you just so happened to have had a thing with in college. Sort of. When a hurricane brings the two of you back together again, the forecast calls for love and dredged up feelings.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Will you please turn that off?" you asked, taking a sip of your coffee. Normally, you took it with a little vanilla-flavored creamer, but much like that morning's coffee, you were bitter.

"Aw, why? Seokjin looks so cute in his turtleneck this morning," one of the writers said, fawning over the Channel 5 weatherman. "Maybe you should start wearing turtlenecks. It might boost our ratings."

You rolled your eyes as the red light came on indicating that you would soon be on camera. You set your coffee to the side and stepped in front of the green screen.

"Good morning, Metropolis," you said. "You can expect some light rain on your commute today. It should clear up by lunchtime though and it will be partly cloudy for the rest of the day. You watched as the map viewers saw at home shifted as you shifted the topic. "As you know, a hurricane is forming a few hundred miles off the coast. We are currently predicting landfall early next week. I will be traveling to Diamond Beach as the storm approaches to give you the most recent updates. Thanks for watching Channel 4 News, now here's Andrea with traffic."

The red light switched from you and onto Andrea's camera on the other side of the studio. You let out a sigh and walked back to your desk away from the main set.

"You went to school with him, right?" the same writer asked, still watching Seokjin on the screen. His station gave him more screentime because he was so well loved in the city, often they pan to him coming back from commercial breaks and whenever there was a view question or poll.

"Yeah," you said. There was only one university near Metropolis that offered a robust meteorology program and most of the city's weather people came from it. You and Seokjin had gone through together, even graduating at the same ceremony.

"Wow, was he still so stunning in college? Like, I don't think I could've focused if he was in my classes."

"Depends on who you ask."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

5 Years Earlier

"Having trouble focusing?" you asked Seokjin as you noticed his dark eyes were no longer looking down at the computer screen.

"Hmm, it's a bit hard when you look at the screen like that," he said, smirking and turning around to lean against the desk. "Tell me, what's a guy gotta do to get you to look at him like that?"

"Be a warm front." You watched as a warm front moved towards the city while a cold one moved simultaneously from the other direction.

"What if I'm a hot front?" He turned to face you, his hip still leaning against the desk, but his body was close enough that it brushed yours as he moved.

"Seokjin, stop." You clicked a few more times and turned to flip through your textbook. "It's a storm for sure. A thunderstorm or tornado. Shit, it could be anything, how are we supposed to figure this out."

"Its the weather, not heart surgery. We can be wrong fifty percent of the time and still good at our job."

"But, if we're wrong fifty percent of the time, we'll fail this class."

Jin sighed and crossed his arms as his eyes lingered down your body. "Listen, Y/N. We both know that you're going to stress about this for twenty minutes and then figure it out like you always do. Now, come on, let's take a break."

"And do what?" you asked, letting out a breath between your teeth, not tearing your eyes away from the screen.

"I don't know. I have a few ideas though" His breath was against your ear and his body heat radiated against your own.

"Seokjin, this can't happen."

"Why not?"

"Cause I need to focus on school. I'm here on a scholarship. I can't risk distractions."

Jin sighed and looked down at the weather map on the screen. "It's a thunderstorm," he said. "The currents aren't strong enough for a tornado and based on the patterns, its the most logical."

You quickly wrote down the answer and his reasoning, realizing that he was right. How he surmised the answer so quickly, especially when he was barely paying attention baffled you.

"All right, now, come on," he said. "I'm taking you out for lunch and you can't deny me that. I know you're hungry."

"Fine," you said, shutting your textbooks and allowing the computer's screensaver to come on.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Just hours later that same night, you found yourself looking up at the ceiling of Jin's bedroom. Soft cotton sheets wrapped around your torso and they felt softer than even the best sheets you'd ever owned. His shirtless form was turned away from you and you resisted the urge to reach up and run a hand through his dark hair. He'd let it grow long recently, the ends of his hair beginning to grow onto his neck.

"Stop staring at me," Seokjin said, you could hear the smirk in his voice. He turned around to face you. His eyes were calm and soft like the sheets, but you couldn't help but feel the sadness. The knowing.

"How'd you know?" Your voice was small.

"I could feel it. Your eyes hurt, you know?"

You did know. You knew how much it hurt Jin to see your eyes wander down the shape of his torso. That the way you always reached to push his ill-fitting glasses up the bridge of his nose hurt. That knowing he couldn't reach out and sneak his fingertips underneath the hem of your sweater.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, it's okay."

"It's not, Seokjin. We need to move on. Forget about each other. It's best for our futures."

"You know that's not true."

"Seokjin, we both want the same things in life. We'd be competing with each other for every job. We'd rush to get the story before the other. It wouldn't last."

"We don't know that unless we try."

"Seokjin, I don't want to give myself the chance to hate you."

You got up from the bed and buttoned your shirt, pulled on your trousers, and tied your shoes. Seokjin watched you, didn't try to stop you as you headed towards the door. Gripping the doorknob, you walked out and back down to the sidewalk below.

Following that day, you didn't see Seokjin again. Sure, he still sat a few rows in front of you, he still presented in class, you glanced over his name in the paper when it was announced he was taking over the weather position for Channel 5. You saw him on billboards and on Reddit posts. Yet, you never met allowed your eyes to meet his again. Unless it was through the warm, freshly printed Metropolis Daily.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Nearly no one was heading east towards Diamond Beach. Westbound traffic was full of cars heading into the city to weather the storm, while eastbound only consisted of a few cars. Mostly media and others who couldn't drop everything and run from the hurricane.

You could just make out the Channel 5 van ahead of you. Focusing down on your laptop which was tracking the conditions minute by minute, you tried not to focus on the fact you would likely run into Seokjin.

This certainly wasn't the first time a hurricane or tropical storm caused you and Seokjin to collide like convergent fronts. Every year you found yourself at Diamond Beach trying not to watch his broadcast from a few meters down the beach.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Two Hours Later

"Hello, this Y/N Y/L/N reporting for Channel 4 news. Hurricane Roke is expected to make landfall later tonight. Most of Diamond Beach and the surrounding areas have been evacuated as Roke is currently a category four storm. I will be monitoring the storm and providing updates through Twitter throughout the night and I'll be back on the beach at 5am. This has been Y/N Y/L/N covering Hurricane Roke. Now, back to the studio."

You felt Jin's eyes on you as you gave your report. He was about two hundred feet down the beach. He wore a similar coat to your own and even with his hood pulled up you could feel the way his eyes cut through you.

Once the red light on your camera went off, the one on Seokjin's came on and he began his report. It was nearly identical to yours, Seokjin adding his own flair and charm. Like you wished you could.

Seokjin finished his broadcast and your filmographer began to pack up. "I'll see you bright and early in the morning?" she asked, her hair catching in the wind and obscuring her face.

You nodded and helped her pack up the camera and other supplies, working quickly to prevent it from getting damaged from the wind or rain. Walking up the beach and back to the hotel felt like it took forever, especially with the heavy filming equipment.

Your filmographer had already checked in earlier and headed to her room, carrying the camera and filming equipment. You kept the portable meteorological tools, already anxious to set it up in your room. Jin and his filmographer came in just as you got to the front desk.

Giving them your name, you handed them your ID and the company credit card. The receptionist furrowed her brow and glanced up at you.

"It looks like your room was accidentally double booked," she said. "I apologize, but due to the current situation, would you mind sharing?"

"Uh, sure, that's no problem. Who am I sharing with?"

The woman squinted at her computer. "Kim Seokjin."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"You're not even going to look at me?" Seokjin asked as the two of you set up your computers. He'd let you have the desk while he took the counter of the kitchenette.

"Not until I get this setup."

Seokjin sighed and pulled out his phone. Service was already finicky, but he managed to pull up Spotify and got music to play. It was soft, as not to disturb your neighbors in the packed hotel.

You smiled as you heard the familiar tune "Dancing Queen". Jin was a fan of older music and the two of you used to listen to ABBA's Greatest Hits when studying together.

"You still listen to this?"

"Of course," he said. "It makes me happy."

It made you happy too and when you finished setting up your computer you peaked out the window. The storm was still a couple of hours from landfall, but the trees were already swaying wildly.

"It's going to be a big one," Jin said, glancing at you and catching your eye. It was the first time you'd truly looked at each other since the day you'd left him on his own. It felt like a lightning bolt skewered you in half.

"Yeah," you said, sitting down on the bed. "It is."

You traced the seams of the comforter with your index finger. The song switched and this time it was "Can't Help Falling In Love With You".

Jin finished setting up his computer. Your screen and his looked nearly identical showing a map of the coastline and the storm approaching. He sat down beside you, closer than you would've thought an acquaintance would sit.

"We should go to bed. Early start tomorrow." His voice commanded you to look at him. "Let's not fight over the bed." Placing down the two extra pillows down the center of the bed, he went to the bathroom to change.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

The storm was in full force when you made your way outside. The four of you: you, Jin, and your two filmographers tried to get onto the beach, but the sand cut your skin. Various debris already littered the beach. Mostly seaweed and tree branches, although you noticed a few shoes and patio furniture from the nearby condos.

"The hotel said we could report from outside," you said. "It'd be safer."

Jin chewed on his cheek and glanced out at the beach. The two filmographers began to set up their cameras and you did you best to ensure your hair didn't fall into your face. You stood away from the wind, finding it hard to breath with it blowing onto your face.

"Seokjin! Stop!" His filmographer yelled, abandoning his equipment, he rushed towards the other man. You turned to see that Seokjin had taken off towards the beach, seemingly want to report from there no matter the circumstances.

You looked over at your coworker and she gave you a curt nod, ensuring that she would watch over the equipment. She dragged both cameras inside the lobby one at a time. Giving her an empathetic look, you took off running towards the beach, hoping to catch up with Seokjin before he got entirely soaked.

When you came to the edge of the beach, you saw that Seokjin was already halfway out, his filmographer not far behind. You sighed and continued out, knowing he was determined to give the report from as close to the middle of the storm as he could.

The filmographer neared the middle of the beach, fearing going any further. When you caught up to him, you stopped to catch your breath, even though it was nearly impossible with the wind. Your breath was swept away as soon as you drew it in.

"He's crazy," the other man said. "I have no idea why he's doing this."

"He always has to go the extra mile," you said, rolling your eyes. "Even if it's stupid and dangerous."

Seokjin turned back to look for his camera operator, only to see him halted halfway up the beach. Seokjin was three-quarters of the way up the beach now, reaching dangerously close to the rough tide. He noticed you still running towards him and smiled before a gust of wind knocked him off his feet.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Your chest constricted when you saw Jin get thrown off his feet. He landed a few feet away in the sand. You ran as quickly as you could, falling to your knees beside him.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking him over.

His eyes looked up at you, obviously taking in your features. Yet, his lips said nothing.

"You crazy bastard! What the hell were you thinking? Rushing out here like that? You of all people should know how dangerous that is." You could barely catch your breath between words as you placed your hands on his arms to help him sit up. He didn't budge, however, his eyes just locked on your face.

"What are you doing?" you asked, sighing and dropping your hands from his hands, looking down to meet his eyes for the first time.

He smiled when you finally met his eyes and leaned up to connect his lips to yours. It was brief due to the circumstances, but it felt like lightning coursing through your veins.

"I ran cause I knew you would chase me."

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yukiobeyme · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Satan! (Satan x MC)

Summary: Slightly NSFW? Today is Satan’s birthday and you decide to make the most of it from making his favorite dessert to helping him lathering up in the shower. (Not sexually but still a very intimate moment)

Pie Recipes used found here and here. And the reddit post that inspired the shower scene found here.

Today is Satan’s birthday and you tried to have it planned out to the littlest of details. There was only one slight problem, Satan had planned out his own day. So, when you arrived at his room and saw it vacant, you couldn’t help but deflate a bit. You immediately whipped out your DDD and sent him a text.

To Satan: Where you at?

To MC: Book Store

To MC: I have an order to pick up

To MC: Then I was going to another store

To MC: Why? Do you need anything?

Oh. It seemed that Satan would be out for a while. You briefly wondered if there would be enough time to do any of things that you had planned. Though you had planned a trip to the bookstore, but you were hoping that you would be able to buy some of Satan’s books and then grab a redxred apple pie from Madam Devian’s.

To Satan: Just need you

You quickly shoved your DDD into your pocket before heading towards the kitchen, because Satan had already gone out, you decided the least you could do is attempt to make his redxred apple pie rather than buy it. You began to look for all the possible ingredients needed to make it and grabbed the dessert cookbook that was left in the kitchen for times like this. The nice thing was that most pages were tabbed with the recipe, usually indicating one of the brother’s favorite foods, though Beelzbub usually ended up marking all the recipes.

Crust:

2 ½ cups of all purpose flour

1 tablespoon of sugar

1 teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon mace

½ cup of chill unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

½ cup chilled solid vegetable shortening, cut into small pieces

5 tablespoons ice water

Filling

8-10 Red Apples

½ cup unsalted butter

3 tablespoons flour

½ cup brown sugar

½ cup pepper jelly

Once all the ingredients were set out, you began quick work of washing, peeling, and slicing the apples. You only did a lazy peel on the apples, removing most of the peel but left some for the texture and that just seemed how Satan preferred it.

You sat the apples aside and began to heat a saucepan on the stove, adding ½ cup of unsalted butter and stirred in 3 tablespoons of flour. Once they were thoroughly combined you added in 1/2 cup of brown sugar and ½ cup of pepper jelly. While you let that come to a boil you started to make your pie crust, combing the flour, sugar, salt and mace into a food processors and cutting in the chilled butter and vegetable shortening until the mixture resembles coarse meal, gradually adding the water until moist clumps formed. You divided the dough into two pieces, flatten them into disk before letting them chill in the fridge for an hour. Once you saw that the jelly mixture was boiling, you poured it overtop the apples and gave them a quick toss before letting them rest until the dough was ready. After an hour of keeping watch in the kitchen, Beelz only showed up twice and offered to sample the apples and the dough each time, but you shooed him away from the pie and offered him other tempting snacks. You made quick work of assembling the pie before tossing it into the oven at 425 for 10 minutes before reducing the heat to 350 for an hour.

You jumped slightly when you heard your DDD ring.

To MC: I’m heading home, want to give me a helping hand?

To Satan: Of Course, I’ll be in the foyer.

You cleaned up your mess in the kitchen before heading to the foyer to wait for Satan. You heard a knock on the front door and swung it open to see Satan with his hand full of books and a bag.

“Can I take anything for you?” You asked, stepping out of the way so he could enter the House of Lamentation.

“Yes please, how about the bag of feathers?” He held out the bag and you quickly grabbed it before falling in step with Satan to his room. You opened the door for him and watched as he set down all his new books.

“Did a new series come out?” You asked looking over the stack of books Satan put down.

“Um… no, it’s to help encourage homeless and feral cats to make the garden their home,” Satan mumbled, and you gently smiled at how his cheeks were dusted pink. You both made small talk, from the different feral cats Satan had seen recently to how the bag of feathers would encourage the cats to hang around. You were interrupted when an alarm went off on your phone.

“I’ll be right back!” You quickly left Satan’s room and half ran to the kitchen, you had a few minutes to brew a cinnamon tea before the pie was ready. Once the pie was taken out the oven you placed it and the tea on a platter before making you way back to Satan’s room.

“Satan, can you get the door for me?” You called outside of his door. The change of plans and all your hard work seemed to be paid off when you opened the door and saw Satan’s face go from pleasant surprise to an expression of pure happiness.

“What is all this?” He asks as he gestures you into his room.

“Happy Birthday, Satan!” You exclaimed, giving him a huge smile before setting off to serve pie and tea.

“Thank you, MC. This is perfect,” Satan hummed after he had taken a few bites of the pie.

Soon enough you both had filled yourself up on the redxred apple pie and cinnamon tea, you both seemed to gravitate towards Satan’s bed to cuddle and to read to each other. After dozing for a bit, you asked Satan if he wanted the second part of his birthday surprise.

“A second part? The pie and tea were plenty MC,” he assured you, running his fingers through your hair.

“Well if you are so sure, I guess I can shower by myself,” you gently said as you tried to push off of Satan, but found his arms had wound around you and pulled you to his chest.

“A shower together, why didn’t you say so,” Satan hummed, holding your tight before gently ushering off him.

While you don’t normally shower together, you decided his birthday was a special occasion. The idea of birthday shower sex crossed your mind but decided against it and would rather take the time to pamper the birthday boy and show him how much you adored him.

There were soft kisses, but you made sure to keep it light and sweet and when Satan went to grab the shampoo, you took it from his hands.

“Here let me,” you said as you poured a healthy amount of his favorite shampoo in your hands before you began to run it through your hair. Satan seemed to stiffen but after a few moments relaxed against you as you began to lather it over his scalp and massage his head. Once you were satisfied with that, you grabbed the body wash and used your body to spread it over him and gently rinsed him clean, making sure to run your fingers through Satan’s hair and peppering kisses on his back, chest, and neck.

Satan seemed to melt and turn to putty in your hands. When Satan turned to you and open his eyes, you could see they were bright with tears. He pulled you against him and kissed the top of your head, “Thank you, MC” his whispered against your hair, “Let me return the favor,” Satan took the shampoo and gave you the same treatment, lathering you up and running his fingers through your hair. You both exited the shower when the water started to chill feeling on cloud nine. Both of you had a slight blush on your face from the heat that the shower once had and the intimacy of taking care of one another.

You grabbed the big soft towels you had left in the bathroom earlier and began to dry Satan off. Taking your time and being as gently as possible. You left a trail of kisses down his neck and back, before wrapping the towel around him and grabbing the other towel and drying yourself off.

“Do you have any other plans for today?” Satan asked you softly, his expression completely open and soft.

“Just spending it with you,” Satan’s eyes lit up and pulled you close to him.

“I like the sound of that, bed?” he asked, waiting for you to at least nod before maneuvering towards his room.

“Happy Birthday, Satan” you whisper, giving him a soft kiss.

“Indeed, Happy Birthday to me” Satan replied, giving you another kiss.

#obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #satan obey me #yuki writes #its a demons birthday #yuki speaks #Yuki Writes!

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chanagun · 4 years

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Coffee in One Hand (Earphones in One Ear)

Fandom: SOTUS The Series Pairing: Prem/Wad

Summary: Every day he worked, like clockwork, the same young man came in at 2:30. He'd order a medium black coffee with room; he'd pour some 2% milk into it at the counter and take it to a booth nestled in the back of the shop. But he'd always still be in perfect view of Prem, who would not-so-subtly gaze longingly in his direction. Prem thought it was kind of cute how the man would push his glasses to the top of his head to keep his long hair out of his face and how he'd pull out his laptop and always only use one earphone while working for an hour.

Notes: The Coffeeshop AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. Title is from Falling For U by Seventeen 2,949 Words

AO3 Wattpad

——

"I wonder what he's always working on," Prem said to no one in particular.

"Who cares? Don't you have some fancy lattes to be making?" Bright asked from his spot sitting atop the counter.

"Don't you have literally any work to be doing?" Knot asked just as Arthit swiped at Bright's legs walking towards the register, effectively knocking him to the ground.

"MAN DOWN!" he yelled as his coworkers just laughed. Just a normal day at the shop, Prem thought, before turning back to the man.

Every day he worked, like clockwork, the same young man came in at 2:30. He'd order a medium black coffee with room; he'd pour some 2% milk into it at the counter and take it to a booth nestled in the back of the shop. But he'd always still be in perfect view of Prem, who would not-so-subtly gaze longingly in his direction. Prem thought it was kind of cute how the man would push his glasses to the top of his head to keep his long hair out of his face and how he'd pull out his laptop and always only use one earphone while working on something for an hour. He'd take little sips here and there from his cup, taking his time finishing his coffee. Sometimes he'd glance over to the counter, and Prem would look away, hiding his blush with his hat, and pretend he was cleaning. He didn't really do subtle well.

"Seriously Prem?" he jumped when a surprising hand connected with his shoulder. He pretended Knot's solid hand didn't hurt when he turned to him to see what he needed to say. "We really do have some fancy lattes to make. You can continue ogling that stranger in a bit."

"I am not ogling," Prem mumbled in return as he tightened his apron. He heard Bright snort behind him. And yes, the swift kick to his shin Prem landed was well deserved. Bright's yelp was satisfying enough to focus on his steamed milk designs.

The stranger was always packed up and gone before their after-work rush came in. Prem felt brave enough to send him a smile as he walked to the counter to return his mug. He smiled back softly and was out the door. Prem felt his face warm and he bit his lip. He grabbed the glass and studied it a moment. Knot always seemed to give him that particular mug; a taller, off-white mug with a tiny chip in the handle.

Bright, always one to ruin a moment, yanked it from his hands and walked it to the sink. Prem snarled at the oblivious dishwasher.

"You were drooling all over the counter anyway, Prem," Arthit teased, noticing his bewildered expression. Prem glared for a moment before turning back around to wipe down the steamer.

"I was not," once again mumbling in response.

"Hello friends!" a new voice announced as the front doors swung open.

"Ah, good afternoon, Kongpob," Knot greeted warmly, ignoring how Arthit ducked behind him when he heard Kongpob's voice. Kongpob smiled brightly at him despite the pink tinting his cheeks. "Your usual?"

"Yes, thank you, Knot," he replied as Knot rang him up. Kongpob was another regular of theirs, definitely more social than the stranger Prem was infatuated with. Kongpob also very obviously had the hots for their Arthit, while Arthit spent his time pretending he didn't notice him, yet always insisted on making his drink. Prem watched Arthit craft his latte, while Kongpob took his seat at the bar and continued his own gaze with his chin resting on his hand. Arthit filled his dark green mug, taking extra care with the heart drawn into the foam. Their same old song and dance.

Kongpob usually stayed for a bit under the guise of studying with an open textbook in front of him, but really just tried to get Arthit's attention. Prem knew he succeeded too, the tips of Arthit's ears always turning red when Kongpob smiled at him.

"Okay, I've got to go to practice, but I'll see you all tomorrow!" Kongpob announced a little while later. They each bid him farewell as he packed up his backpack. "Goodbye, Arthit," he said with a smile, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Arthit just grunted in response, pretending to be busy with the french press, but a blush was evident in his cheeks. Prem rolled his eyes at the encounter fondly and waved bye to Kongpob.

Their coffee shop only had two shifts and Knot was their shift manager. He was responsible for making sure they all stayed on task to get the shop closed and cleaned on time; he only smacked Bright occasionally to keep him focused on finishing up the dishes. Knot would mumble about how Prae, the first shift manager, would be mad if everything wasn't in tip top shape for opening the next morning. Prem, and everyone else, knew that wasn't true. Prae was a sweet girl and she did her job very well. She appreciated how everything would always be neat and ready for open and would tell them every shift change.

Prem was on floors, so after they locked the door at 8, he grabbed the broom and started making his way around the shop. His mind drifted almost immediately to the mystery customer, as he found it doing very often.

Perhaps he was a novelist, typing away every day to make his editor's deadlines.

Or maybe he was a programmer, scripting long sequences of code for work.

Maybe he was just screwing around on reddit.

"Oi, Prem, you've been sweeping that one spot for five minutes. I think it's plenty clean!" Bright yelled out to him. Prem pretended he was going to throw the broom and made Bright flinch, but he couldn't help the flush on his face. He couldn't get that guy out of his head.

Prem traded out his broom for a mop and a bucket and tried to keep his mind occupied by listening to his coworkers banter while they cleaned the back. They mentioned that Knot got tickets to a concert later that month as a surprise for his boyfriend and automatically Prem thought about the one earbud in the mystery man's ear.

"I wonder what he listens to..."

"It was all kind of slow besides the 7 o'clock rush," Prae told them as they put on their aprons, "we tried to keep it as tidy as you guys always do," she finished with a smile.

"It's always appreciated. Thanks Prae," Knot responded.

"And thanks Tuta," Tuta added snarkily as he closed his register. Knot chuckled and playfully punched his shoulder. "Ow."

"Thanks Tuta, and thank you May and Tee, we'll see you tomorrow." The first shifters made their way out the door and Prem quickly fell into the normal rhythm. He really enjoyed his work at the shop, and he liked the company. His coworkers were the only really close friends he had since he came out to the city for uni. Sure, they had their quirks, but he got a long with them nicely. They worked around each other smoothly, making life a little easier.

It was 2:30 before Prem realized and he had to catch his breath when the young man walked in. He went up to Knot at the register and ordered his usual. Prem bit his lip and tried to distract himself from watching the exchange. He didn't want to be too creepy. He failed, of course, a faint blush gracing his cheeks as he saw him make his way to his table and push his glasses up. And then he caught Prem's gaze, causing Prem to jump and busy himself behind the steamer. He felt his heartbeat in his throat and he tried to shake it off.

Prem was glad it got kind of busy in the shop, so he could successfully avoid looking at the customer again for a chunk of time.

"Oy, Prem, watch the register for me really quick?" Knot asked him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other a couple of times. Prem laughed before shooing him to the bathroom.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his stranger stand, getting ready to leave. Prem swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on the door. He was surprised to see Kongpob walking in way earlier than he usually arrived. Prem watched as he looked up from his phone to smile at the mystery man walking towards the door.

"Oh, Wad, hey!" he heard Kongpob greet. Prem gaped at them as the customer — Wad — smiled back.

"Hey Kong," they bumped fists, "how're you doing?"

"I'm alright, a bit tired. I'm gonna grab some much needed caffeine," Kongpob said lightly, but the circles under his eyes suggested he was more tired than he was letting on.

"Maybe take a nap too, man. Are you still coming to practice?" Wad asked.

Kongpob nodded, "Yeah, of course."

"I'll see you later then. Take it easy," Wad told him before finally making his way out the door.

Prem stood, dumbfounded, at the register. He kind of just stared at Kongpob as he walked up to order.

"The usual, Prem... are you okay?" Prem blinked. He then cleared his throat and shook it off.

"Oh, um, yeah," he said as he put Kongpob's order in. "You're here earlier than usual today," he said, attempting to be casual despite not feeling the slightest bit casual.

"Yeah, I had kind of a long night and I needed some coffee ASAP," he chuckled before handing him the correct amount of cash. Prem nodded, and took it.

"So, um, you know that guy?" Prem winced at his own words and Kongpob furrowed his brow.

"Who? Wad?" Prem felt the growing warmth on his face, but nodded anyway. Kongpob just smiled at him. "We've shared a few classes and we play basketball together. He's a good guy, albeit reserved... when he wants to be."

"Thanks for covering, Prem— oh, Kongpob, you're here early—" Knot said upon his return being cut off by Arthit clearing his throat loudly.

"Your drink is up," he said tersely, placing it in Kongpob's normal spot before he even sat down. Kongpob smiled fondly and excused himself from the register. Prem saw the concern in Arthit's face upon seeing Kongpob. He leaned forward and spoke to Kongpob in hushed tones while he sipped in his coffee. Prem went back to his station and watched as Kongpob's eyes slowly brightened. Prem wasn't sure if it was entirely the coffee's doing, noticing Arthit's hand atop of Kongpob's.

He bit his lip, willing the thoughts of holding Wad's hand one day away.

"Arthit," Prem whispered to get his attention. They had locked the doors some time ago and it was just him and Arthit cleaning the back as the others roamed around to close.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking over to Prem.

"Don't take this the wrong way, I'm just really curious..." Arthit quirked an eyebrow, signaling Prem to continue, "you like Kongpob, right?" Arthit's face showed a flash of confusion before snorting a laugh.

"Um, yeah, Prem. I do. We've been dating for weeks."

"WHAT?" Prem yelped, causing Bright and Knot to glance over. Prem flashed them a toothy grin before asking, lower, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"You didn't ask!" Arthit replies defensively. "I thought you guys knew!"

"Arthit come on! We had money on this."

"What?"

"Nothing! Anyway, that's actually really awesome and I'm happy for you, I'm sorry this is so awkward now."

Arthit rolled his eyes fondly before replying, "thanks. What were you going to follow that up with, anyway?"

Prem bit his lip. "I mean... I was going to just see if you liked him... to see if you would tell me how you got a good boy like Kongpob to like a curmudgeon like you." A wet rag hit him in the face. "I'm just kidding! Ow! Also gross!"

"You deserve it! And if this about your earbud boy, Wad," Arthit said, giving Prem a pointed look, "Kong told me he asked him about you."

"What?" Prem felt himself freeze while Arthit just smirked at him.

"Yeah, at practice he asked Kong, and I quote, 'who the cute barista with the ballcap' was. It wasn't Knot, because he doesn't wear a hat and it wasn't Bright, because he's not cute."

"But... wait, what?!" Prem spluttered, making Arthit laugh at him again.

"Prem please. He stares at you just as much as you stare at him," Arthit informed him. Prem kept gaping at him, unable to process. "You both just miss each other's gross love lorn glances. It's actually really sad." Prem whimpered at the comment. "Buck up and just talk to him! Tomorrow. Please. It's getting really hard to work with your pining all day." Prem whimpered again.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us!" Bright yelled as soon as Arthit walked behind the counter the next day. Their group chat had been lighting up all the night before once Prem let it slip that Arthit was dating Kongpob. Which, of course, spurred Arthit to tell them that Prem was going to talk to Wad finally. "I can't believe I'm the only single one now! Do you think Tuta from morning shift has a boyfriend?"

"You know I'm still here, right?" Tuta asked, taking off his apron.

"Don't even start with that Bright," Knot warned.

"Wad isn't my boyfriend! I haven't even talked to him!" Prem exclaimed back to Bright.

"Yet. You haven't talked to him yet," Arthit said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well. As much as I would love to know what's going on, I have class," Prae announces to the afternoon crew. She grabbed onto Tuta's wrist to pull him away from glaring a hole into Bright's head. "We have class. See you all tomorrow!" She said sweetly on her way out the door.

The afternoon staff quickly dispersed, their laughter trailing behind them as they took their usual spots. They fell into their rhythm; taking orders, steaming milk and making lattes, then cleaning up and doing it over again. Prem hummed a song that had been stuck in his head for days as he took the blender over to the sink.

That's when he realized Bright was no where to be found. Prem scoffed and turned toward the registers to shoot Knot an incredulous look.

But he wasn't there either. And Arthit wasn't by the steamer.

Prem furrowed his brow, completely at a loss. The door chimed and his eyes flashed to the entrance. 2:30. Prem cursed his coworkers as Wad made his way to the register. "Um, hi," he greeted Prem quietly, looking confused at the lack of workers.

Prem swallowed the lump in his throat and threw the blender down into the sink unceremoniously. He winced but powered forward. He grabbed the chipped, off-white mug and brought it with him to the register. "Black coffee with room?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Wad blinked at him twice before nodding eagerly.

"Could I get a piece of coffee cake too?"

"Of course," Prem said, trying not to let his voice crack. Wad never usually ordered food, so he was slightly surprised. Wad handed him too large of a bill and shoved all his change that Prem returned into the tip jar. Prem turned to fill the mug quickly to hide his reddening face. "I'll warm up that coffee cake and bring it around to your table?" He tried not to make it sound like a question but he was nervous.

"Oh, thank you!" Wad replied, taking the mug from Prem's hands. Prem tried not to faint right on the spot as their fingers brushed during the exchange. Prem couldn't help but smile as he saw the tips of Wad's ear go pink as he turned and walked to his usual table.

"Thanks for covering, my man, I had to go to the bathroom," Prem heard Knot say from behind him.

"And I had to check something in the stock room," Arthit added as Prem turned around.

"And I just wanted to not be out here for five to ten minutes!" Bright said, punctuating with a wink.

"I hate all of you," he told his coworkers. He grabbed a slice of coffee cake and put it in the warmer, ignoring the whispers and chuckles from his so called friends.

Wad already had his computer out, glasses on the top of head, and he took a sip gingerly from his mug. He met Prem's gaze and smiled as he approached with the plate.

"So you don't usually order anything but coffee," Prem blurted. He was never good at thinking before speaking.

But Wad just smiled again and said, "you know my order well." Prem almost choked on his own spit, making Wad laugh at his spluttering. Prem thought his laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard.

Prem realized he was still holding the plate so he put down, a little too hard, by Wad's laptop. "So, um, I'm Prem." Wad chuckled.

"I know. I sort of asked Kong about you. I'm Wad."

Prem grinned then, "I know. I kinda asked Kongpob about you, too."

By the end of the shift, Prem had a new number in his phone and a date scheduled for the weekend. He didn't stop smiling, even after he was back in his apartment for the night.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up a new message:

'So what are you always working on when you're at the shop?'

Additional A/N: Too much background and build up for little payoff? Maybe. I'm sorry. I've been in a funk. Wad is a graphic designer in this AU and he's WORKING okay but it doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy the view of the cute barista that has the cutest smile and hums songs Wad doesn't know.

#annie writes #sotus #sotus the series #premwad #artkong #tutabright #coffeeshop au #i missed my sons (the hazers are my sons)

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nicoleknows-nothing · 5 years

Text

Pucks Deep (Mark Scheifele Fan Fiction - CHAPTER TWO)

CONFUSED? START HERE, READER >> INTRO & CHAPTER ONE

Mark Scheifele, #55 of the Winnipeg Jets. Born in Kitchener, Ontario, drafted back in 2011 and signed an eight-year deal with the Jets in 2016. He plays centre, serves as an alternate captain, and shoots with his right hand. He also played for team Canada in the 2012 World Juniors and team North America in the 2016 World Cup of Hockey. Last season, he played sixty games in the regular season, scored twenty-three goals and assisted in thirty-seven for a total of sixty points. His six-foot-three, 207-pound frame is the perfect bulk for winning battles--

“When are you going to stop Googling him?” Ruby walked into the kitchen, heading straight to the Keurig machine to make a cup of coffee.

I turned away from my laptop, adjusting my glasses from falling off of my face.

“Until I know his whole life story.” I protested, taking a sip of my cold earl grey tea.

I had been up since six in the morning, as well as sitting at my laptop for most of the day before, researching everything I could about Mark Scheifele. I've been on Wikipedia, the NHL website, Instagram, Tumblr, Reddit, YouTube; I found so much information already, I could start writing an autobiography for him.

“I have an idea.” Ruby sat down beside me at the kitchen table, the smell of her hot hazelnut coffee filled my nose, giving me a boost of energy. “Why don't you text him instead of being an internet stalker?”

“I'm not ready yet.” I bluntly answered, tapping away at my keyboard.

“It's been 48 hours.”

“I just--” I sighed. “What if he doesn't answer back? Or he pretends that he doesn't know who I am? Or he does text back and says that giving me his number was a mistake?”

“He’s not going to do that, Neens! If he didn’t want to give you his number, he wouldn’t have done it in the first place,” Ruby tried to assure me. I ignored it and started to look in my internet history to find a page I found earlier about Mark’s past relationships. I showed it to Ruby. “His ex-girlfriend is a freestyle skier. She won a gold medal in Sochi! How do I compete with that?!”

Ruby slammed my laptop shut.

“Okay, listen to me.” She grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look her straight in the eye. “First of all, You’re doing that thing when you over analyze situations in your head and you psych yourself out. You need to stop, it's not healthy.”

“Second of all, forget all of the other girls. He wants to talk to you, he wants to get to know YOU. Gold Medal Girl who? She's got nothing on you! You are talented in so many other ways that can easily impress him! You just need to get out of your own head and you need to text him!”

Ruby is the perfect hype-woman, and she was right. Before I knew who Mark really was, he was just the really cute guy at the bar. He was nice and out of all of the women in the room, he gave me a chance. Now, I just know a little bit more about him...maybe I know a bit too much but I shouldn't let it cloud my judgement. However, there was one thing I was having trouble with.

“What do I even say?” I asked, twirling my cell phone around in my hand.

“You could start with 'Hey, it's Nina?’” Ruby suggested.

I stopped playing around with my phone and laid it on the kitchen table, concentrating my gaze on it. I stared at it for so long that I was hoping I could send the text with my mind because my fingers were an anxious, shaking mess.

“It's not too early is it?” I looked around the kitchen for the time, even though I know there isn't a clock in the kitchen.

“It's 9:30 AM, he's probably up by now.” She grabbed my phone and put it back in my hands. “Do it.”

I unlocked it and opened the draft I had been sitting on for the last two days. All you have to do is say hi, and then the rest will follow…

Hey, it's Nina :) ...and send!

“There. Done.” I put my phone back down on the table and took another sip of my tea. I felt a mild sense of relief but was still apprehensive of the text I would get back.

Within moments, my phone was ringing. I checked the caller ID and choked on my tea.

“It's Mark!” I coughed through the liquid stuck in my throat, which was followed by instant panic. “What do I do? I'm not ready for this! TALKING IS HARD! WHAT DO I DO!?”

“ANSWER THE PHONE!” Ruby picked up my phone, swiped the green icon, and shoved it in my face.

“H-h-hello?” I stammered.

“Hey Nina, it's Mark!” He could hear me coughing up a lung in the background. “Are you okay? Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all!” I finally cleared my throat and got up from my chair to pace around the kitchen. “I'm surprised you called me, and so quick.”

“I’m driving at the moment and didn’t want to make you think I was ignoring you.” He explained. On the phone, his voice sounds sweet but gravelly at the same time. “To be honest I was excited you messaged me, it's already made my day.”

I went blank, my brain didn’t want to construct sentences. What was the English language? My response consisted of saying ‘uhh,’ ‘cool,’ and ‘yeah’ in between girlish giggles for what felt like a century. Then finally I managed to spit some words out.

“Well, it's a pretty cool number, I couldn't wait to call it...” Ruby looked at me perplexed, even my mouth was questioning what kind of word vomit was that.

“Thanks! I've never gotten a compliment about my phone number before.” Mark laughed on the other end. “So, what are you up to today?”

“Nothing too exciting, just chilling out with the roommates.” More like isolating myself in my bedroom, eating leftover Vietnamese takeout, and playing ranked matches on Rocket League. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m on my way to the Iceplex for practice. It's open to the public today if you and your roommates are interested in coming.”

“Uhhh…” I looked over at Ruby who was hopping in place with a big smile on her face and giving two thumbs up. “Yeah, sounds like fun. We'll be there.”

“Great! I can't wait!”

We said our goodbyes and as soon as I got off the phone Ruby and I were bouncing around the kitchen,

“See? That wasn't so bad!” She reassured. “He even said he was excited to hear from you!”

“I said weird things but it’s okay because he still wants to see me!” I cheered. Heather came into the kitchen and stared at the two of us screaming like teenagers who were about to see One Direction on their reunion tour.

“What are you guys so excited about?” Heather croaked while making herself a cup of tea. I stopped jumping around to notice the redness around her nose, pale skin, and bags under her eyes.

“We just got invited to go watch gorgeous guys play hockey!” Ruby squealed, ignoring the state of our friend.

“Ugh, no thanks.” Heather sniffled. “Cold rink. Cold weather. I’m staying in bed, drinking an entire bottle of Nyquil and binge watching Game of Thrones.”

“I’ll help you back to bed.” I offered, walking with Heather back to her room and tucking her into bed. “Feel better, okay? And if you need anything, text me.”

By the time I put the first episode on for her, she was passed out. I walked back into the kitchen to see Ruby getting off of the phone.

“What are you doing? Why are you not dressed yet?” She asked, pushing me into my bedroom and digging into my dresser. “You need to get all dolled up for your sexy hockey man!”

“I could ask you the same thing. Who were you on the phone with?” I overturned her question. Ruby was holding up shirts to my chest and throwing clothing all over the place.

“Our third…” She quickly changed the subject, looking at my burgundy crew neck sweatshirt. “Oooh, this is cute! Wear this!”

Who is ‘our third?’

---

“I'm so happy you guys invited me!” Simon locked his lifted Dodge Ram 1500 with his fob key. “Do you think Big Buff will sign my Jets hat?”

The ride to the Bell MTS Iceplex was an event all in itself. I was scared for those driving around us because Simon almost got us into THREE accidents, including narrowly missing a family crossing the street in the Unicity area. I never sunk so low in a seat as Simon got berated by the father for driving irresponsibly. Probably didn't help that he was blasting heavy metal the entire way down Portage Avenue, as well as looking at his phone to see if a girl he gave his number to at Cowboy's answered him back. He also decided that it would be a fun idea to quickly do donuts in the empty parking lot by Assiniboine Downs, adding nausea to my already crippling anxiety. As soon as he had his truck parked at the Iceplex, I beelined it for the door, distancing myself as far as I could from Simon and Ruby.

I instantly regretted my decision to split from Simon and Ruby. The Iceplex was crowded, a sea of dark blue and white jerseys covered the first floor of the building and continued up the staircase to the second floor. It was worse right by the entrance; groups of eager kids pushing by eager adults to make their way into the Canadian Tire arena where the practice was being held. I could feel myself getting antsy waiting for those two slowpokes to get in here. Finally, Ruby and Simon walked in and I pulled them to the side to avoid the large crowd of fans.

“How are we going to get into the arena?” I asked, my breath short from feeling claustrophobic.

“There are bleachers in the balcony. Usually, people like to be by the rink so they can get stuff signed.” Simon explained, grabbing mine and Ruby’s hands and pulling us forward. “Follow me!”

We bulldozed through the crowd, getting dragged to the second floor to the entrance of the balcony. I watched as Simon pushed his way down to the front row of bleachers and found seats right in the middle, receiving dirty looks from every single person he blew by.

“Any time now, girls!” He waved us over. I started to feel a bit grateful that Simon tagged along. I could never be as adamant or pushy as he is. He could care less.

We sat down as the team was about to start doing drills. I sat there quietly, observing which way the puck was going and trying to figure out why the players were wearing either a red, blue, or white jersey. This was already confusing to me. I asked Simon what the deal was.

“The red jerseys are the defensemen. And the white and blue jersey are the forwards.” He explained.

“But why white AND blue? Why not just two colours?”

“Well, the different lines can be split by colour. Or if they're practicing in their special teams, the power play line is one colour and the penalty killing line is the other.”

I tried to let the information sink in…”I don't get it.”

“Haha it's okay, don't worry about it right now.” Simon shifted my head towards the northern part of the rink. “Just watch your dude go!”

My eyes immediately found Mark on the ice. He was wearing a white jersey and talking to one of the red jersey guys by the boards. A whistle blew and he made his way to the middle of the ice with a few other players. I watched in awe as the whistle blew again and his feet glided across the icy surface with quick precision. The puck was passed to him; the control he had was flawless, manoeuvring around and keeping it away from the other players. He gave the puck away to another white jersey on the other side of the ice and advanced closer to the goal. The puck was sent back to him again; it barely touched the blade of his stick when he took his shot. The puck went in, flying over the goalie’s shoulder and into the top left corner of the net. Applause erupted in the small arena. I clapped as well, blending into the crowd because I wasn’t the type of person to make a big deal about a practice goal...but Ruby was.

“WHOO! LET’S GO #55!” She shouted, her arms straight in the air while jumping from her seat and standing on the bleachers. Oh my god…

“Ruby! Get down!” I grabbed her by the bottom of her black zip-up hoodie and pulled her down.

I looked back at the ice and there was Mark, looking up at us as he skated by. His crystal blue eyes instantly found mine in a crowd of hundreds, the connection creating an electric current inside of me. My face felt flush as I smirked meekly and waved at him from above. He winked, his guard hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

As strange as it sounds, him chewing on a dental appliance was really attractive. I don’t know why or how, but the image somehow flicked a switch in my brain that made the conclusive decision; it was hot, like mucho caliente.

Once practice was over, the team spent an hour interacting with the fans; answering questions, taking pictures, and signing anything a person had on them. I overheard one guy say he had the whole team sign his chest and was heading to Living Canvas right after to get their names tattooed. I decided to sit outside of the arena by myself around the concession area, staying away from the frenzy. Simon was busy getting autographs on his snapback and Ruby wanted to wander around the facility.

Twenty minutes after the crowd died down, I got a text from Mark.

Hey! Are you still here?

I replied. Yup! Sitting at the concession.

Cool! Be out there soon.

I quickly tapped on the camera of my phone and checked my makeup and hair. Everything looked good, that was until Ruby came up behind me and threw a grey knitted toque on my head.

“Ta-da! Your first piece of Jets merch!” She beamed. “All you need is your man’s jersey and you’re set!”

“Thanks, Ruby!” I adjusted the toque on my head and stood up from my chair to strike a pose. “How does it look?”

Before she could say a word, a voice behind me spoke up.

“It looks good on you.”

I turned around and saw Mark, standing tall despite being active on the ice for the last two hours. His fingers ran through his damp, cool brown hair, swooping it to the side before placing his hands in the pockets of his charcoal sweatpants. His hockey bag slung over his right shoulder, the strap pulling at the sleeve of his cobalt blue Nike sweater.

“Hi.” he grinned.

“Hi…” We stood in silence for a moment, admiring each other. Ruby instantly got uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you two alone and go find Simon.” She was about to walk away when Mark was snapped out of his trance.

“Speaking of your friend Simon, he actually got escorted out of the building a while ago.” He told the two of us.

Ruby’s eyebrows went up in confusion, I deeply sighed in disappointment.

“What did he do?” We asked in unison.

“He snuck into the dressing room pretending he was from the Free Press, but today wasn’t a media day so everybody was kind of confused as to why he was there,” Mark explained, laughing about the situation. “He’s okay though, he told me he was gonna wait by his truck.”

“Okay then, I will meet you at the truck.” Ruby decided.

“Actually, if it’s okay with you…” Mark interjected. “I can drive Nina home later. I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat because I am starving.”

“Yeah, I’m okay with that.” I agreed. The combination of anxiety bubbles and butterflies in the pit of my stomach was starting to make me hungry.

“As long as she is home at a decent time, then it is fine with me.” Ruby wagged her finger at the two of us like an overprotective mother. “And no funny business!”

We parted ways with Ruby as we left the Iceplex. I watched her make kissy faces from outside the truck while Simon wrapped his arms around his body and proceeded to make out with himself. Those two...

“I'm parked over here.” Mark pointed towards the west side of the building.

Was this really happening? Am I actually on a 'sort-of’ date with a professional hockey player right now? Did I brush my teeth this morning? How bad is my breath? How red is my face? I don't know if it's from the cold temperature in the rink or from me blushing so much. I think i'm sweating, do I smell okay? Will he noticed if I take a quick whiff of my armpit?

He's looking at me. My god, he's pretty. His strong jawline, the subtle stubble of his goatee, his long eyelashes... Have I been staring for too long? How long have I been silent? I'm over analyzing again, say something for the love of God!

“Wooooords…” I said that out loud… Where's the nearest hole?

“What was that?” He asked, chuckling. I stayed silent, fearing that I would say something stupid again.

We stopped in front of a sleek silver SUV. I have watched way too many David Dobrik videos to immediately recognize the make of the car.

“You have a Tesla Model X!?” My mouth dropped open and eyes wide in wonder. Mark double clicked on the back of his key fob and the trunk opened.

“Pretty neat, huh?” He threw his hockey bag in the trunk and clicked another button. The side doors lifted up over my head and floated back down moments later. “I like opening the falcon doors for fun sometimes.”

“Cool!!” I marvelled. Mark came to the passenger side of the car and open the door for me.

“Your chariot awaits…”

#mark scheifele #mark scheifele fan fic #mark scheifele fan fiction #still have no title #sue me #creative writing #winnipeg jets #winnipeg jets fan fiction #nina mendoza oc #hockey fan fiction #chapter two #my work

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whitewolfofwinterfell · 5 years

Note

What do you think of how TWD has become? Personally I recently just stopped watching since Lauren left. Before that every episode became a chore to watch and then it just became a show I analytically judged and cringed through. And I’m really not one to stop watching shows after years of being loyal. So I was wondering if it’s the same for you. And if so what it who or what is still keeping you to watch.

I literally couldn’t have received this ask at a better time - I’ve spent the last half an hour or so browsing through Reddit to hear people’s opinions on why they feel TWD has declined in quality and what the best/worst seasons are (yes, I know, I’m sad haha). To answer your question about what I think of what TWD has become - I’m very disappointed with what it’s become and I feel exactly the same way you do. There are so many amazing elements of TWD that make it one of my favourite shows and I will always love and re-watch the earlier seasons, but it’s gotten so bad. Like, so so so so so bad. I haven’t watched the show since the end of season 8 but I’ve still seen snippets of season 9 from the TWD blogs I follow and have no desire to pick it up again. I’m like you and I find it very difficult to give up on shows that I’ve loved and followed for so long, but it gets to a point where you have to prioritise enjoyment above loyalty and it got to a point where I felt the same as you and that watching new episodes was a chore. When it gets to that point with any show, it’s time to quit, because watching shows should be an enjoyable experience, not something you’re forcing yourself to do and that’s putting you in a bad mood afterwards (which TWD often did for me before I stopped watching).

I began to lose interest in the show during season 6 with the introduction of the Hilltop and the Saviors. Personally, I’m not a fan of the focus on human conflict and community vs community, this is a zombie show and zombies should be the main conflict not petty squabbling between humans (plus, we already had that plot in seasons 3 and 4 with the Governor). I had no interest in Negan and the build-up to his reveal was so dragged out that I cared even less by the time we finally met him. The circumstances of Glenn and Abraham’s deaths angered me beyond belief (like it did for many fans), and losing Glenn was a massive hit for me. At that point, I considered stopping watching, but I was willing to give the show the benefit of the doubt and committed to watching season 7, which was undoubtedly the worst season of the show by a mile. Nothing even happens in season 7, it’s all filler (what even is that god awful episode with Daryl in the cell with that annoying song that replays constantly?), there’s too much focus on Negan, the core croup are divided for a majority of the season (again) and 99% of the characters are utterly detestable. Honestly, the only reason I kept watching at that point was because of Rick and Carl. When Carl was killed in season 8 I was sure that was the point at which I would stop watching, because I’d only been holding on by a thread for two seasons. Again, I forced myself to watch until the end of the season partly out of curiosity as to how they would handle the aftermath of Carl’s death and what would happen to Rick, but mostly because I was clinging to that teeny tiny little chance that Carl wasn’t really dead and it was all some cruel trick. When I realised that Carl really was dead (and saw the shit-fest that the rest of season 8 was) I just had nothing left to watch for.

TWD is a dark and depressing show and a big problem that has led it to the place it is today (aside from atrocious pacing, poor writing decisions and a bad format) is that it systematically kills off all of its characters who represent hope in a universe that is hopeless. Sophia, Hershel, T-Dog, Beth, Glenn and Carl all symbolised optimism and hope in some way because of what they represented and/or had overcome. Carl’s death, in particular, was such a huge blow for me, that I couldn’t recover from it. For me personally, Rick and Carl are the foundation of TWD and without them it simply doesn’t work. That father/son relationship is at the heart of the show - Rick is the main protagonist, he is the hero who is responsible for rebuilding a new world and his primary motivator (excluding Lori) is his son. When you take Carl away you take away the heart of the show and the show no longer makes sense without him. Fans watched Carl grow from a young boy, witnessed all the traumas he suffered through and regardless of whether we liked him or not, we were invested in his well-being and rooting for him. As a child, he was the symbol of innocence, of the future and he was the one character we wanted to see still standing at the end, we wanted him to be the one that beat the world, just like Lori said on her deathbed. Without Carl who’s going to take Rick’s place? The whole point of the show was for Carl to grow into a strong, brave leader who could one day step into Rick’s shoes and continue down the same path. Rick’s character no longer makes sense without Carl, and as endearing as his relationships with Judith and Michonne are, they are no substitute for his relationship with Carl.

So, if Carl had survived perhaps I’d still be watching the show right now (I might’ve even been able to deal with Rick’s absence with Carl still around, although I would’ve found it very difficult), but I’m doubtful that even Carl and the Rick/Carl relationship could’ve kept me watching since I grew to dislike every other character and aspect of the show before I stopped watching. All of my favourite characters have been killed - Lori, Shane, Beth, Hershel, Glenn and Carl - and the new characters that have been introduced are not adequate replacements at all. Even the well-liked Jesus is a bland character that I have no emotional investment in at all. As for the other long-standing characters like Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, Carol, Rosita and Tara, I don’t like any of them anymore because of the way they’ve been written. That’s a huge problem, because TWD is a character-centric show and the characters are what keep people invested. That’s particularly the case for me, because I’m a very character-orientated person. Like, I’ll commit to watching shows I don’t even like just because I love the character(s) (e.g. The Punisher).

Putting the characters aside, there’s just no plot there anymore either. Granted, I haven’t watched season 9 so I don’t know whether it’s improved (although I’m assuming it hasn’t if you’ve recently stopped watching), but there’s been no real story except the Rick vs Negan plot for the last 3 seasons and it’s so dull. I know Negan is important in the comics and people would’ve rioted if he hadn’t been introduced on the show, but I just think that his entire arc has ruined the show. People are seduced by his character because of Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s performance (and their love for comic!Negan), but the character has no substance and is a poor antagonist in comparison to the legendary Governor. Also, where the hell is the story even headed now? I don’t know and at this point, I’m pretty sure the writers don’t know either. There’s no coherence or sense of vision. That’s largely because it’s such a popular show that it has been given the luxury of having as many seasons as it pleases, but it’s also a curse because it means that the writers hash out episodes and seasons with no end in sight, because they don’t know when it’ll end. TWD is supposed to be unpredictable, so no one could ever guess what the ending would be, but back in the day I could at least picture a feasible ending in my mind (which involved Carl, obviously) but now I can’t, because what’s the end goal? If Carl is gone, it’s not going to end with him in the “new world” continuing Rick’s legacy (which is what I always imagined it to be) and they’ve already found a safe haven and established a community built on friendship and cooperation with other communities which was another primary goal for the characters, so what else is left? What is a fitting ending for the story given the direction it has taken now? On any other post-apocalyptic show the basic goal would be to establish a cause and cure for the disease to attempt to save the world, but we’ve already been explicitly told TWD isn’t a show about finding a cure (which makes no sense, because honestly, who would just accept it and go ‘okay, this is the way things are now’?), so it makes no sense. It’s very difficult (if not impossible) for people to continue watching a show like this where all of the characters they become invested in eventually die and there is no sense of purpose or meaning. It’s an apocalyptic world, meaning is all anybody is really looking for, we don’t really care about the survival aspect (although that’s interesting), we want to see them find a new purpose and place in a world that has been ripped apart at the seams.

Sorry, I’ve gone off on a complete rant about this, I just have a lot of feelings about TWD. It makes me sad what’s happened to what was a once great show and it’s all because the people involved are so greedy. They don’t care about telling a brilliant story, they care about dragging it out for as long as possible to bleed every last dollar from it that they can. I’ll still most likely watch the last ever episode of the show, because I always do with shows that I’ve been a long-term fan of but stopped watching (such as TVD), just to get some closure. Also, since I love Rick’s character so much (and based on what I’ve seen he’s not dead so will eventually return to the show), I won’t be satisfied until I see how his story ends (and it better be a damn happy ending, because there’s been enough heartbreak on this show lmao).

Thanks for your ask :)

#answered #my meta #twd meta #itsmyblogandicanblogwhatiwantto

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rydenstories · 6 years

Text

I found a journal in my hotel room

My girlfriend and I are just finishing up road tripping around the US, seeing concerts, attending festivals, visiting landmarks, etc. As you can imagine, we've seen a ton. It's been great, but by the time we started our long journey back to our home state, the trip had taken a lot out of us. Not just physical exhaustion, we'd nearly drained our savings for the trip as well. The plan had always been to drive straight through, taking turns at the wheel while the other slept. With tension rising as time passed, the plan quickly changed and we looked for the cheapest (but still nicest) hotel we could find.

Later, we found ourselves pulling up to the building directly next to the highway that would be our haven for the night; a cheap chain hotel with a bright sign that read "NIGHTLY $4O, WEEKLY $200" and a giant parking lot nearly packed full of semi-trucks. There are two more hotels on the same side of the highway underpass similar to this, two gas stations, and a fast food restaurant. The crowning feature of this small area, however, is a goliath stone cross that almost looms from the other side of the highway. It towers over everything, including the church that stands behind it and is illuminated by two bright white spotlights. To be truthful with you, this SOUNDS very odd when typed out but after weeks of driving past countless places like this, it's all just something I've come to shrug off as very mid-west.

The lobby wasn't packed like the parking lot, but there were more people wandering around the main floor than I'm used to seeing in near any hotel. Mostly gentlemen, reading books, eating cup noodle, watching the news, and chatting joyfully. It actually kind of reminded me of living in the dorms during college. Very friendly environment. I found myself surprised at how just... nice everything was for how not nice you'd expect it to be, you know? Still, we didn't really pause to reflect on that before checking in and quickly rushing to our room. My girlfriend did a quick check of her side of the bed and was asleep within minutes, but even with how tired I felt, I couldn't bring myself to go to bed so early and decided to check over the entire room.

Fairly clean. Carpet was really new, too. Not bad for the price. I sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling satisfied enough. Still, I pulled out the nightstand drawer, more-so to satisfy my curiosity about hotel bibles than anything else. Instead, there is this dark blue composition notebook. I've been reading it for a little while now.

It seems to be a journal, with many of the entries summing up the mostly uneventful days of the writer, a truck driver with a wife named Lynae. The writing itself is really messy and although I can tell that the author is deeply thought and well spoken, many of the larger words are spelled phonetically; smart, just not book smart. The journal is really full and some of the earlier entries are really interesting, detailing run-ins with hitchhikers and feuds with other drivers. The entries stop very abruptly and the last few are particularly unsettling. I can't be entirely sure, but I think those were written in this room. These are the last few entries. I've copied them down and done corrections to make it overall more legible, but otherwise I haven't changed anything.

___________________________________________

July 27th The money is in and it is good! I knew Bone would come through for me on that last haul. Now I just gotta get the rig back home! I'm glad I finally have the money to stop and rest in a real bed, too. The old cabin just ain't as comfortable as it used to be. Maybe that's what I'll be fixing next! I called Lynae and let her know I was coming home and she near squealed over the phone. I'm thinking now's the time to get her that pretty ring. Anyway, I saw Monty again today and asked if he was gonna return my MP3 player but he just kind of shrugged me off. It was pretty damn rude, actually. Knew his parents didn't teach him manners. He just got up in his truck, wasn't even gonna stick around. Weird actually, he almost always sacks up for the night, doesn't like driving after dark. Oh well, hope he enjoys a nice night drive! All over nothing!

Anyway, seems time to hit the hay! I'll be headed out tomorrow morning and I'll hopefully be home for supper!

July 28th Woke up this morning with the worst kind of headache. You know the kind that stings behind the eyes, burns your nose? Awful. Soon as I got out of the bed, the nausea hits. Damn it! Happens after every long haul; I get some bug off some dirty oldie who ain't never heard of antibacterial soap and I have to sleep it off in some crummy hotel. Fucking figures. Anyway. Seems like this place is much less crowded than last night and near all of the fellas that are here are total strangers to me. I wandered around a little bit, went to the lobby and grabbed some good stuff from the snack machines. Hung out for a few minutes, too, but instead of the normal circulation of news and talk TV, the counter girl was watching some weird black and white film. I ended up just going back to my room, throwing up a little, and getting some sleep. I napped until now, which it's pretty late. I'm getting 1 AM on my room's alarm clock.

I went downstairs to grab some clean clothes from my rig and smoke a cigarette but the front and side doors of the building were locked. I didn't see any employees around though, so I figure they're on their late night break. I hung out down there for a while and waited for someone to come open it but gave up eventually. If I'm being honest, I was feeling a little uncomfortable. It was too damn quiet. Plus, that church changed the lights shining on that giant cross. They're red. What a weird color for a church to pick. I don't know, maybe the fever is just making me loopy and paranoid. I better try to get some more sleep.

July 29th When I woke up this morning, the alarm clock said it was already well past noon. I thought it couldn't have been right because it was still pitch black in my room, no light shining through the open curtains at all. I got up and sure enough, it was still pitch black outside. So I figured my clock was broken. I guess the fever's got me feeling more and more irritable since I got here, otherwise I don't think I would've even brought it up let alone complained, but I yanked the cord from the wall and left my room.

The lobby was still empty, door still locked, and no employees in sight. I rang the little bell on the counter but nobody came. Hell, I waited in that lobby for a damn hour and nobody came! I'm starting to feel worse, too. My head is pounding so hard and I can't get any damn medicine since I've searched high and low for an unlocked exit and found not a single one. I don't really have any choice except to lay down and rest. Tried to watch TV, but all it's pulling is the weather channel and black & white movies, so I guess I've been watching the weather channel for a couple hours now. I'm going to try to rest more.

Oh. By the time I turned on the weather channel, it was saying it was 2 PM. The clock for sure was not wrong, but I have yet to see any sign of the sun.

August 2nd It's still dark outside and according to the weather channel's date, I'm missing some days. My head is so foggy that if I didn't remember at least a little from the other day, I don't think I'd question the initial notion that I just... slept through it from being so damn sick! I'm not sure that's what this is anymore. I'm not sure what this is at all anymore and frankly, I'm scared as shit.

The bit I can remember is only a small sliver of time. I got up and near shit my pants when I saw that not only was the alarm clock plugged back in, the damn thing was set again. I remember checking the door to find that the privacy lock was sure enough in place. Unlocked it and I swung open the door but then it all goes blank after that. Now I'm here and it's more than a day later and there's some kind of music coming from somewhere. Searched for it but found nothing.

As for the cross, they turned the lights off all together. I went up to the fourth floor to get a good look outside. Seems like everyone just left... All the haulers.... Gas station attendants.... Highway drivers.... Everyone. My rig is the only one in the parking lot. I'm beyond scared... I could break out but I'm so weak.

Aug 3rd My door was open when I woke up. All the doors to all the rooms are open. People's things are sitting around but there are no people. I've stopped pretending that this is normal. Something is so fucking wrong here and I can't even find a single clue as to what's happening or why it's just me. I've slammed my whole body weight into doors, searched high and low for keys or any damn thing that might help me get out of here. Nothing. It doesn't even seem like there's a world out there anymore. Like something just picked the hotel up, emptied all the people out besides me, and let darkness swallow the rest of it up. I can't see anything beyond the parking lot. Somewhere out in the vastness, though, I can hear that music from yesterday. It's something low, with a lady's voice singing over a very slow and out of key piano. She sounds sad but I can't make out what she's actually saying. I think I would be more concerned if the noise itself didn't make my headache so much worse. Instead, I just feel angry.

[[The entries no longer have dates after this and I can only assume they are each separated by at least a day just due to the previous writing pattern, but who knows.]]

xxxx I've spent a lot of time wandering around the hotel. At first, I tried closing all the tenant doors again. It made me uncomfortable to see them that way, but as soon as I'd hear the latch and I'd turn away, they'd loudly swing open again. Scared me shitless, as you can imagine. Then, after a couple more times, pissed me off. Even despite my fucking throbbing headache, all of the rage within my chest spilled out of my throat in a torrent of screams. As you probably could guess. My screams haven't received a response beyond that same sad song that only gets closer. Or louder. I don't know.

I've started searching through the rooms. Going through people's things. I wonder where they are. Did they get to leave? Or did they go somewhere else? I'm still not sure. Does it even matter? Things are getting worse for me regardless what happened to them.

xxxxx The parking lot is gone. It seems like the closer the darkness creeps towards this place, the worse my headaches get. I've tried to move to a higher room to get away from the darkness, but then I wake up back in my original room again. The weather doesn't play anymore, but the black and white film channel does. I've tried to sit down and watch it, but after a couple minutes, it ends up being far too painful. I can't... describe the pain. It's everywhere. It's in everything, god damn it.

xxxxxx First floor is gone. The cross is back though. It's illuminated in that same strange red light, taunting me from out in the darkness.

I've been through every inch of this damn place, trying to find some kind of haven away from this madness. I tried to go downstairs at one point. Into the darkness. My ears are bleeding now but I made it back to my room in one piece.

xxxxxxx Oh god. Dear Jesus Christ. Her singing is now screaming. The piano is grating. I wanna go home.

xxxxxxxxx I think this very well might be it. If you'd believe it, the higher floors went before this one, making it damn clear that this has always been coming down to me. It's been coming for me since I got here. I think even Monty could sense it.

Despite having every light in the room on, as well as every single one I could steal from this floor, it just keeps on growing dimmer. The girl. She's not screaming anymore. She doesn't need to scream. She knows I hear her. It's like she's right over my fucking shoulder, whispering right in my ear. And just like that, someone is knocking on the door. Darkness is seeping underneath like black smoke and I know I don't need to answer. It's creeping over the pages, up my arms, shoulders, face, and into my mouth.

Lynae, I'll miss you. ___________________________________________

I'm really.... shocked. It could easily be.... anything..... but something between the too comfortable vibe in the lobby, the handwriting, and the overall feeling I've had since picking the journal up absolutely tells me that there's something to this. Now that I've got it all copied down, I'm getting my girlfriend up. We're taking this journal down to the front desk. God fucking willing, we're leaving as soon as we can.

#my story #mine #creepypasta #nosleep #spooky #creepy

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