#it's super easy - especially on here - to let yourself get caught up in the negative whirlwind
Airing Some Clean Laundry
A pet peeve is the number of posts, writings, and memes that are about relationship failure rather than success. The online community feels like it is infected with the same disease so prominent in the vanilla world and this illness is an addiction or craving for the bad news. So rather than write a someone done me wrong post, red flags, or a negative Ned ramble it is time to share some ideas to improve and enhance a relationship or perhaps a person’s next partnership. Many of the things discussed here will fit any relationship from vanilla to lifestyle. While some of this will be old hat for many but hearing a refresher is never a bad thing.
It is important to always use your voice and speak up with a partner. When we have an amazing partner, things can feel as though that special someone can read your mind but even with the most connected partners, there will be times when this just is not happening or they are interpreting what they are reading incorrectly. So it is important to never wait, hope, or expect a person to grasp what you are thinking but instead take the time to clearly express yourself. When the subject matter is challenging, it is all the more important to talk through things rather than hold out the hope that a partner will just pick up on it, no matter how well you feel that you have left clues and queues for them.
When it is time to talk through something with a partner, it is also important to always be polite, especially during those times when a partner has done something upsetting. People can have the tendency to just unleash and unload on a significant other when they are angry but the madder you are, the kinder you must be while discussing things. Lashing out only feeds fear and aggravation, endeavor to stay calm, cool, collected, and let politeness be your guide rather than exasperation.
Life is busy and it is so easy to get caught up in the crushing of life but the more demanding one’s commitments are, the more important it is to make time for a partner. When we are super busy, it can be easy to focus on what challenge is next in line for our attention which can unintentionally push a partner/relationship to a back burner. It can feel unromantic to some but make and keep scheduled times with your partner.
Not only is it important to commit to spending time together the busier we become the easier it becomes to forget about self-care. Everyone is unique in the volume of self-care needed and how they best practice it. Remember your partner is there to support you, so work with them to see that there are enough as well as the kinds of self-care that work for you. It is impossible to care for others when we stop caring for ourselves.
Since everyone feels busier today than yesterday, try keeping your partner’s events on your calendar. It does not matter if you are old-fashioned using a datebook or keep it all on the smart device of your choice, place their events there right along with your own. If we are busy and/or stressed it can be important to have that reminder so we do not forget to pep up a partner before an interview, meeting, or exam, and to follow up with them afterward. It is better to see a reminder than realize you dropped the ball and missed an important event in their life.
No matter how hard a D/S partnership tries to live the lifestyle every minute of every day, the vanilla world is always going to be pressing into it. There is no way to escape and it can feel like it is always trying to strip bits and pieces away. While this is just a little thing but make it a point to use titles and/or pet names at least once a day. Since each relationship is unique there is a hard and fast ‘rule’ on how often but at least once a day helps as a mental cue and reminder of the added layer the relationship has and needs to thrive. Besides, inside all of us kinkeriffic people, when we hear a partner call us by a title or pet name it brightens our day at the minimum.
Busy, busy, busy is a theme here and it continues with this piece of advice. Make plans with your partner and even more importantly follow through with them. Make dinner plans next weekend, schedule a road trip (if there is road head involved, my advice is to not schedule that) for this summer, and start arranging while saving for an even larger adventure next year. A well-documented red flag of a relationship on the rocks is that partners start withdrawing from and are unwilling to plan endeavors together in the future. Creating and following through on adventures in the future will help keep partners focused on tomorrow and each other while if there is an issue with someone pulling away from plans, time to circle back to the top, use words, and talk through the challenge.
Take advantage of a billionaire’s saying. Jeff Bezos has the phrase “disagree and commit” and this saying has a nice fit within a D/S relationship. What is meant by disagree and commit is that while we might not agree with what we are going to do, or perhaps have to do, for a partner, once we have given our word that we will do it, it is imperative to do are our darndest while we do it without any ass dragging or half assery while doing it. In the lifestyle, most reading this will think of a submissive doing a task assigned by their dominant that they might not agree with but it also applies to d-types too. Dominants need to keep their minds open and realize that their submissive very well may have a better idea and while there are times when they might not fully embrace their submissive’s thoughts, they need to give their all at trying it their way and comparing the results. Even if we do not agree with our partner when we agree to do something for/with them it is important to do it as enthusiastically as we would if it was our idea or way.
Never stop asking questions. Ask, ask, and ask more questions. Life is not a game of twenty questions but unless we ask things, we will never fully understand our partner and what they want/need. Within the wizarding world of D/S, a question that needs to be asked much more is, “What does this mean for you?” Many things in D/S and life mean different things to different people so make sure that how you understand things is exactly how your d or s type does.
It is spring or fall, depending on where you are in the world, and both of these seasons are great for hanging laundry out to dry in the spring or fall breezes but many people these days seem to have a fetish for putting their dirty laundry out for the world to see, comment on and, even worse, get involved in. Publicly airing a relationship’s dirty laundry or disagreements is only going to create drama, cause hurt, and make someone suffer. No partnership is perfect, there will be discussions and differences of opinion but when this happens keep it all ‘in-house’ and do not share these for the world to watch and comment on.
This is such a simple little thing but never forget your manners. Flashback to the movie Animal House, “Thank you, sir, may I have another” but manners are not just for submissives. No matter your role or non-role should vanilla be your thing, remember your manners and never forget please, thank you, and you are welcome. Once again it is such a simple thing but using manners is an easy way to show your partner that you respect them.
When something does go bump in a relationship, have a graceful exit open for your partner when you are talking it through. What I am suggesting is that it can be hard for any human to admit an error from time to time. No matter how good we are as an individual at owning our missteps, sometimes it takes a moment to get there. So when having a conversation about a faux pas, do not play the blame game and put it on your partner. Try instead to blame that big screw-up that comes into all of our lives, miscommunication. Rather than say “How could you do this” consider saying “Perhaps we miscommunicated because I was thinking this would be the result”. Rather than blaming your partner which may put them on edge, you are offering them a graceful exit in the moment of miscommunication. Often when people are blamed, it can be hard to own a mistake but by putting it on a communications breakdown, it can keep walls and defenses down at the moment which allows for ownership of the error to happen quicker and keeps the discussion from moving from discussion to argument.
When you see your partner do something amazing, let them know you noticed. Share your appreciation for a good job, deed, or outcome, and make it a habit, this will let your partner know that you care. Doing this also fights a common issue that comes up in longer-term partnerships, the feeling that effort and dedication are unnoticed and a partner is unappreciated.
Make sure that you give your partner good feedback, even when it might not be what they want to hear. When you are sharing something that you know or even think your partner might not what to hear, make sure that you express things in a kind, polite, and positive manner. This is especially true when it comes to coitus, kinky, vanilla, or somewhere in between. It is always surprising the number of people who privately complain about their partner’s bow-chicka-wow-wow skills but will not engage in a conversation with their partner about what they are lacking or need to improve. Suggesting more of this and less of that will help your partnership grow to spectacular delights while grumbling to friends will not make it better. If you are adult enough to get it on, be adult enough to talk about how to do it better.
Know what you do not know. It can be very easy to assume a partner knows or understands something they do not have a clue about, especially when it comes to lifestyle activities. If your partner is into or wants to explore something new to you, there is no harm in sharing that it is new to you. Learning about and exploring the new ‘trick’ can be a great bonding tool. Remember to know what you do not know and while the old saying says to fake it until you make it, if your partner is into or curious about something, they will know that you are faking it. So do not be a faker hoping to make it but just be forthright in sharing your lack of experience.
It is a very human desire to want to please our partner which can make saying no a challenge. This is often associated more with submissives wanting to please their dominants but it also does apply to d-types because if a dominant has a happy s-type, they will be happier as well. So it is important to realize that it is not only good but healthy to say no when it is needed. FYI, submissives, the right dominant for you will understand this and respect the H E double hockey sticks out of you for saying no and a d-type that cannot or will not is a chump in need of dumping. So while it can be hard to say no to your partner, there are times when all of us, regardless of role, need to do this, and when that special someone does tell us no we must not only respect it but see it as a sign of a healthy, mature partnership.
Well, this little ramble has gone on a bit longer than intended, so it is time to wrap things up. It is a good reminder to have a little clean laundry on the line rather than airing the dirty laundry that seems to fill the internet plus a reminder of how all of us can make our next or current relationship stronger, which is always a great thing.
What thoughts do you have on improving a partnership?
As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.
©TLK2023
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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 1
You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.
pairings: dark!Avengers x reader
word length: 3.3k
chapters: 1/?
warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.
Cleaning rich people’s vacation homes hadn’t been your dream job growing up. You had such high hopes when you were a kid, well into your teens, of becoming a zoologist. It had started off like most kid’s dreams—in kindergarten you wanted to be a veterinarian. That grew into wanting to become a herpetologist, but then you wondered, why limit yourself? As a zoologist you could be around tons and tons of animals, studying their behaviors and ecological impacts. It was about half way past your fourteenth birthday that you realized none of your dreams mattered.
You woke in the middle of the night to a crippling pain in your stomach, an unbearable heat boiling under your flesh. You must’ve been screaming, because your parents burst in frantically—only to stop dead upon stepping past the threshold. At the time you had no idea why, but it had been shock. Omegas were rare nowadays, more and more betas were being born while the number of omegas dropped. It was a point on contention; betas could breed with alphas, rendering the omega almost obsolete but alphas, especially ones with packs, wanted omegas.
Personally, you figured that evolution had decided to take things into its’ own hands. Everything about omegas spat in the face of adaption; they were small and delicate, hardwired to obey alpha commands even to their own detriment, experienced a full weeks’ worth of being completely and utterly incapable of survival on their own—
Well, unless one acquired (through whatever means necessary) methods to prevent it that one. Heats, a homegrown threat guaranteed to commit acts of violence at least twice a year. By the time your first had worn off, your parents had already jumped into action. They had three different packs bidding on you. Your mother had been bubbling with glee, talking about how wonderful it was that she had produced an omega when she herself was a beta. Your very existence was about to rocket them into both fame and fortune. So, you ran away. That same night.
It had been shockingly easy to locate illegal suppressants. They taught all about them in school, how they were horrible and taxing on an omega’s physiology. Suppressants masked an omega’s scent, prevented their heats, and (in your opinion) were the best invention of the twenty first century. You couldn’t have given a flying fuck about what negative impacts they might’ve had on your body—death would be a reprieve. Unfortunately you’d yet to have any of the widely touted negative effects (effects that you were pretty sure were made up to keep omegas afraid and compliant) and so you found yourself cleaning rich people’s vacation homes just over the Canadian border.
You’d been living out of your car since you first bought it at sixteen, for five hundred dollars. You gave a creepy beta a blowjob to get your license forged. It was the best investment you’d ever made (not that you had the opportunity to make many) and the clunker was still getting you from point A to point B and that’s all you needed. You had to move constantly, staying in one place too long meant people started to notice you, especially in the small towns you frequented in Ontario. But there was so much forest surrounding you that every once in a while you could just drop off the face of the earth, camping so deep in the woods no one would stumble across you. It made staying anonymous so much easier.
That was actually the current plan, after you finished cleaning this last massive cabin; to abscond into the woods for a while, until you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You won’t return to this town for at least a year. You’ll spark recognition when you return, but not enough for anyone to consider you more than an outsider in their close-knit community. The kind woman who lets you work for her cleaning company so sporadically will remember you when you ring her, the only person particularly thrilled to hear you’re back for a few months.
You do an excellent job and you do it fast— you can thoroughly and perfectly clean a 6 bedroom mansion by yourself in less than 10 hours and you were paid under the table so you didn’t require overtime, which Mrs. Hunt loved (there was no tax to be taken from an unreported cash payment though, so it was a fair trade in your opinion). You would work yourself to the bone, 10 hours a day everyday there was work available for at least three months and then dip without any expectations until the next time you returned, when she was gushing over the amazing reviews your work had gotten the last time you were around.
It was symbiotic existence—you were paid well for your efforts, more than enough to sustain living out of your car for months at a time, and your performance drove her online reviews into the 4.9 stars range and made it feasible for her to raise her prices. Mrs. Hunt didn’t ask any questions either, even when you requested to only work alone and couldn’t provide any identification beyond a driver’s license.
You were finishing up the kitchen in what was definitely one of the nicest places you’d ever cleaned when your phone went off in your back pocket. It made your skin prickle. Very few people had your number and you couldn’t think of a single reason they’d ring you instead of texting unless something was wrong. You propped the mop against your shoulder and dug out the phone, frowning at Mrs. Hunt’s name on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! How are you doing?”
“I’m well, Mrs. Hunt,” you answered, your voice coming out semi-robotically as you strained not to sound panicked while continuing the conversation like a normal fucking person, “I’m just about done here, I was finishing the dry mop in the kitchen when you called and then all I need to do is pack up.”
“Oh perfect! I was calling because the owner just rang me, apparently some of his packmates will be arriving a bit earlier than anticipated—potentially within the next hour. Something about someone getting caught up at work, I’ll spare you the details. But if you’re almost done then you’ll probably be gone by the time they arrive.”
“Certainly Mrs. Hunt,” you’d immediately started frantically dry mopping the moment the words ‘within the next hour’ escaped the woman’s mouth, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder. “I’ll be gone in the next few minutes.”
“Now even if you aren’t its okay,” the concern in her voice meant that your own had betrayed you, waivered when you responded without your knowledge. “I always warn the owners that if they arrive before the scheduled time that there’s a possibility the house won’t be done and/or there might be people actively working in the house. You won’t get in any trouble, okay?”
“R-Right, thank you ma’am,” you swallowed heavily, finishing the last swipe across the tile in the kitchen and hustling back into the foyer. “I really won’t be but a minute though. I always keep all of my equipment put away and together if I’m not using it, so I really just need to pack up the mop.”
Which you’d already shoved into the rolling cart you picked up each morning that held all of your cleaning supplies provided by the company.
“Don’t forget your bucket too!” Mrs. Hunt sounded smiley again, “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can stow your cart tonight. Have a good one swee—.”
“You too!” You might’ve hung up a touch too soon to be considered polite, shoving the phone back into your pocket and running into the kitchen. There was no time to dwell on manners.
The mop bucket was sitting on the counter, already washed and dried and waiting to be put away. You’d started keeping your things completely put away at all times the same day you’d been accosted by a homeowner who arrived home earlier than expected while you were still trying to pack up. You’d tried to put your notice in that night, a couple of years ago now, but Mrs. Hunt begged you not to—promised it would never happen again. This must’ve been her best attempt at preventing it. At least you had already planned to leave town tonight anyway.
You nearly sprinted back to the cart, haphazardly tossing the stupid bucket on top and wheeling it towards the huge front doors. You’d just stopped to reach around and grab the handle when the knob turned and the left door was pushed open, nearly hitting your cart.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he was a beta, curly haired and dark eyed with pale skin, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did I knock anything over?”
“N-No, sir,” you pulled the cart back a few steps, nearly trembling with the effort it took not to blast right past him, especially when you noticed him carefully scenting the air. "The house is all clean, I was j-just leaving.”
“Thank you, for getting everything clean for us. We don’t get to come out here as often as we like, I’m sure the place collected a lot of dust in our absence,” he smiled, looking both parts shy and calculating to your well trained eye— and you had no time for such consideration.
“Not too much, h-have a nice night!” You could feel your pulse racing and that was bad. Even the good suppressants, the ones that most of your money went to, had difficulty completely masking the scent of panicking omega.
“Did you use bleach?” The question caught you off guard and you almost jumped when he put a hand on your cart, glancing through the array of chemicals.
“Y-Yes, in the bathrooms. I wasn’t informed of any sensitivities—”
“Nothing a little fresh air won’t take care of,” you wanted him to stop looking at you like that, like there was some pale flash of recognition behind his eyes. “Would you go open the windows in the bathrooms upstairs? I’m afraid my nose is pretty sensitive, several of my packmates are similar.”
You did not like that his nose was especially sensitive and you hated that his packmates were similarly afflicted. It felt like getting punched in the face with a fight or flight instinct, your brain immediately demanded that you leave the cart and run past him—fuck the cart, fuck the job, you could find something else.
“Oh, and do you have the key to the front doors? I might as well get them from you now instead of us having to go down to the office tomorrow.” Your hand immediately dove into your pocket, yanking out the single key and dropping it in his palm. “Thanks— and the windows? Sorry, I just can’t go up there until it’s aired out.”
He wasn’t a huge man but the way he filled the doorway made you second guess trying to run past him, even if he was greying at the temples and looking a little rumpled. It was strange, you wouldn’t usually have such an intense reaction to a beta, but something about him was vaguely unsettling. So instead of trying to make a run for it, you turned on your heel and forced yourself to calmly walk up the stairs. There were four massive bedrooms in the cabin, each with its own bathroom and you’d need to go through and open the windows for the three bathrooms that had them. It meant darting into huge bedrooms, dodging expensive furniture and knickknacks and trying not to dirty the freshly mopped and swept hardwood floors in the process.
It took about five minutes but you felt like you’d run a marathon, your heart was pounding and there was sweat at the nape of your neck. All you wanted was out of the stupid fucking house, immediately. You dashed down the stairs and turned the corner, seeing your cart right where you left it. The door was still open too, but the beta was no where to be seen. You immediately darted forward, grabbing the cart tightly and beginning to push it past the threshold—
You were stopped in your tracks at the sight of two unnecessarily broad alphas. Both were tall, the white man standing just an inch or so taller, with a full beard and blond hair. The black alpha had facial hair too, a cleanly edged goatee to match a faded cut. Both were incredibly attractive and putting off waves of pheromones, to the point that your head floated for a moment. Your lips clamped shut on a whine, instinct trying to push through and alert the two powerful alphas of your presence. Instead you ducked your head and continued out the door.
“Hi there, sweetheart.” Your gaze snapped up, immediately locking with a pair of dark brown eyes. “You the housekeeper?”
“Yes sir,” you answered quietly, stopping short in front of them when neither moved out of your way. “Sorry to have been here so late. Have a good evening.”
Both were still smiling, still pointedly not moving.
“My name’s Steve, that’s Sam,” the blond’s nose twitched, just slightly, and you realized he was very discretely scenting the air. “Nice to meet you. Do you live in town?”
“N-No, please excuse me,” you nudged the cart forward just an inch but they still didn’t budge and panic began coursing through your blood with renewed vigor, “excuse m—”
“Your scent is… confusing,” Steve’s head tilted to the side, “I don’t mean to be crass, of course, but I couldn’t help but notice.”
“It’s always been this way,” the response was automatic and your brain began shutting down all unnecessary functions; you were about to have to run and hope your omega physiology would make you faster than them.
“You smell almost like an omega,” he continued, both hands coming to rest on his hips, emphasizing the width of his shoulders. “But not quite?”
“I’m a beta.”
“Are you sweetheart?” Sam’s voice was a rumble, his head tilted to the side while his dark eyes burned holes into your skin.
The tone an alpha used with naughty omegas was deliberate and tightly controlled, the same as a command or a purr or a growl. It was on purpose, an attempt to nicely draw out the correct response. He wanted you to admit you were an omega, to tell them the truth of your own volition. The fact that your hindbrain desperately wanted to comply was a completely different issue—one you didn’t have time to address right now.
“Positive,” you breathed, clenching your fists tightly around the handles of the cart for just a second before deciding to leave it behind; you’d never be coming back here, there was no reason to worry about preserving your job.
Your eyes were quick and indefinitely perceptive. Being an omega was one step up from being a prey species, it came with inherent instincts that made you especially good at predicting behaviors. After all, an omega was only as good as their ability to please and soothe packmates. One of the single upsides to being an omega was that you were fast though—fast enough to outrun most alphas. And you only needed to go about a hundred and fifty feet, once you were in your car you could certainly get away. So the second you realized the pair was about to shift, moving to face each other more than you, you darted around the cart and dodged to the left.
It wasn’t your fault, honestly. There was no way you could’ve known you weren’t dealing with normal alphas. The blond was so fast that he almost moved between blinks—one moment he was still, the next he’d wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back into his chest. His arms were like steel, one wrapped around your torso to keep your arms pinned to your sides while the other carefully held your chin. Your hindbrain was screaming now, submit, submit, make alpha happy and you bit down on your tongue to hold in the whimpers, the omega sounds your throat was trying to produce.
“Shhh, shh, calm down,” it was half a tone away from being a purr and you continued to squirm while you still could—an alpha command was coming, you could feel it in your bones.
“Let Steve smell you,” Sam was rumbling instead of talking again, a similar half purr to how Steve had started speaking. "Everything’s okay, omega.”
You felt a nose nudge down your neck, towards your scent gland and you bared your teeth at the man in front of you. “I’m not an omega!”
“You smell like omega,” Steve’s breath ghosted over your skin and you fought a shiver. "Sort of. It’s buried, under… beta… sour beta?”
“What sort of suppressants are you on, sweetie?” You startled as the beta from earlier emerged from the house, wiping his hands on a dish towel absently. "Are you cutting them with anything? Heroin, or coke? It’s okay, you just need to tell me.”
“Tell Bruce sweetheart,” Sam coaxed, automatically moving to roll up the sleeves of your shirt, evidently looking for track marks. "Where do you get them?”
“I’m not on suppressants!” Your voice was almost a shriek at this point, desperately imitating the behavior of an angry beta rather than a terrified omega. “I’m a beta! Get off of me!”
“Okay, okay, here then,” Steve’s arm around your torso tightened, the one on your chin beginning to work its way down towards your jeans. "There’s only way one to tell for sure.”
Shock and fear and humiliation; an array of emotions swarmed through your body as his hand popped the button but those were the three you could identify and you immediately started thrashing your legs—he was going to check if you had an omega ridge and then everything would be over. It was a defining physical characteristic that couldn’t be passed off as anything other than what it was: a boney protrusion meant to catch on an alpha’s knot so they could be locked in place. In females it was found in the vagina, prominently featured directly before the g-spot so a knot would cause persisting pleasure. For males it was similarly positioned next to the prostate.
“Calm down, calm down!” Sam crooned, hands coming up to cup your face as while Steve’s slithered down the front of your jeans and into your panties. "It’s okay sweetheart, no matter what. Whatever Steve finds, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”
The thrashing was doing nothing but tiring you out, you’d already been intensively cleaning for the past 9 hours without a break and it certainly wasn’t dissuading the hand slithering between your folds. You bit down on your tongue harder, until you drew blood to prevent the whimpers—you couldn’t make that stupid sound, you’d never make that stupid, pathetic, whiney noise, you couldn’t. Not even when a long, thick finger penetrated and sunk knuckle deep. Not even when the pad of said finger brushed your g-spot before hooking onto the ridge, tugging gently in a way that would’ve caused blinding pleasure had you not grounded yourself with the pain of biting your tongue.
“There it is,” Steve’s voice was soft, finger carefully running the length of the ridge. "A nice deep one too.”
“How long have you been taking suppressants?” Bruce prodded quietly, coming to stand next to Sam. “I need to know what sort of damage we’re looking at.”
When you didn’t respond Sam sighed, fingers brushing gently over your chin as he directed you to face him. "Please don’t make us use an alpha command, sweetheart. We just wanna take care of you. Tell Bruce how long you’ve been on suppressants, please.”
You regarded the handsome alpha for several short moments before spitting a mouthful of blood directly into his face.
content warnings: assault, noncon vaginal fingering
edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus
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G/T Secret Santa Exchange
Story for @gilby-the-geek-girl
Challenge from @secret-shifters
The house was warm, bright, and full of laughter. A few people were exchanging presents, and most had a glass of eggnog or cider in their hands. It wasn't a massive party, only a couple dozen attendees, but it was a little crowded for Celine's tastes.
As a friend-of-a-friend attendee, she didn't know most of the cheerful group, and was a little too shy to try and mingle this late into the party. Instead she sat on one of the host's fluffy couches and watched the merriment with a mix of discomfort and amusement.
"Hey!" A rosy face appeared next to her, and she jumped. Someone she vaguely recognized from one of her classes, Anna maybe, was leaning over the couch next to her.
"Selena, was it?"
"Celine, actually," she corrected, a little startled.
"Oops! Sorry!" Possibly-Anna said, breaking into tipsy giggles. She held out a glass full of cider. "Did you want something to drink?"
"Um, no thank you," Celine declined with an awkward laugh. If she were at her own home, she might be tempted, but Celine was a bit of a lightweight. She was a little wary of drinking any sort of alcoholic beverages with so many strangers around, especially with how she was currently feeling. There was a slight itching, a tingling under her skin that meant losing her self-control could end badly.
"Suit yourself, I guess," laughed Anna. She straightened and joined a large group of chatting friends.
Celine felt a familiar wave of claustrophobia, and took a deep breath. Honestly, the party wouldn't be half bad if she didn't feel like she might shift at any moment.
Celine was a sizeshifter, a being that was able to change her size dramatically. While some size-shifters had complete control over their abilities, others were more unpredictable. Celine had moderate control over her shifts, but the longer she went holding back, the more uncomfortable she felt.
Right now, her body felt far too small, the room far too tiny for her. She subtly scratched her arm, and tried not to imagine stepping outside and shooting up to three times her "regular" height. She let herself grow an inch taller and glanced around the room.
Byron, the friend who had invited her and the only other sizeshifter she knew of in this city, had been mingling with some of his friends, but she'd lost sight of him several minutes ago. She wanted to pull him away and ask if there was any way they could leave early. As a sizeshifter with even less control over his size, he'd understand.
Of course, she'd feel terrible making their ride, a really nice person named Wren, leave early, but she would rather leave when the discomfort was bearable.
Last she'd seen Byron, he'd pulled one of his friends aside to talk. She hadn't seen them in several minutes, but when Byron's friend came back alone, her gaze shot to them. Suddenly, a shifting in their hair caught her attention. She blinked, doing a double take.
Sure enough, nestled in his friend's hair sat Byron. They locked eyes as well as they could from across the room, and Byron gave what looked like an apologetic shrug. He waved his now tiny phone, and Celine checked her texts. There was a new message in the carpool group chat from Byron.
Sry, unexpected small problem. Have 2 ride back w/ someone else.
It was subtle enough that Celine would've understood what happened even without seeing him small. She completely understood, but her desire to stay was even less now. She started to look for Wren, not looking forward to telling them she wanted to leave early.
***
Wren wasn't a huge fan of parties. They weren't a very social person, but Byron and his friend had needed a ride, and he was one of their few friends that actually cared about them. Besides, this party wasn't too bad. They'd had a little eggnog, but not enough to feel more than a slight warmth. The other partygoers mostly left them alone, so they didn't have to socialize too much.
About halfway into the party, they got a text from Byron saying his change in plans. At first they let out a sigh. Typical Byron, having some secret emergency that changed his plans. It was fine, though, Wren was used to his strange habits by now, and as long as he had a different ride they weren't too worried about him.
Wren just hoped the ride home wouldn't be too awkward with just them and Celine. They didn't know her very well, but she seemed nice at least. And she hadn't reacted negatively to hearing they were non-binary, which was usually a pretty good sign. They wondered if she'd be willing to leave the party a little early.
As if summoned by their thoughts, Celine was suddenly standing next to them. Wren jumped slightly, and gave a small wave.
"Uh, hi, Celine," they said. She waved back just as awkwardly, and stood silently for a couple of seconds. At least they were both in good, socially awkward company, Wren mused.
"Hi," she finally said with a little laugh. "I was wondering if you saw Byron's text?"
Wren nodded, waving their phone and almost dropping it.
"Yeah I saw it just a minute ago," they said. "Typical Byron."
"Typical Byron," Celine agreed with an awkward but nice laugh. She seemed like she wanted to say something else so Wren waited.
"So, I know it's still pretty early, and I'm sorry if it's inconvenient, but how do you feel about leaving a little early?" She blurted, words running together slightly in her rush to get them out. Wren felt themself sag slightly with relief.
"Honestly, I am so glad you asked," they said, looking up to meet Celine's eyes. "I don't really like parties."
Celine smiled down at them. Something seemed slightly off to Wren, and they frowned. Maybe it was just the eggnog, but…
"Are you taller now?" They asked, squinting. Celine laughed awkwardly, looking off to one side and Wren slammed their hand over their mouth. "Sorry, that's such a weird question. Obviously you're not."
"It's fine, it's fine," Celine said.
"Do you think Byron's still here?" Wren asked. They didn't want to leave without telling him goodbye, but he might've already left.
"Uh, I haven't seen him for a while," Celine answered. Wren scanned the party for a few seconds, seeing no sign of their friend.
"Well, I guess we can always say we're sorry we missed him later," they said, eventually giving up.
Leaving the party was surprisingly easy. Most people didn't even notice they were leaving. The one guy who did wished them a happy holiday and went back to the party.
As they stepped outside, Wren was a little surprised to see snow falling. Celine, who had visibly relaxed once they stepped outside, tension falling off her frame, looked surprised as well.
"I thought it was supposed to be 'unusually warm' tonight," Wren said, quoting the day's weather forecast.
"I guess the weather really is always wrong," Celine responded with a little laugh. Wren unlocked their car, and they both climbed inside. When Wren turned the key, the car made a horrible spluttering and failed to start.
"Um," they said, and tried again. Five minutes, and several curses later, they gave it up as a lost cause.
"I'm really sorry," they said, feeling mortified. "Should we just go back inside?"
Celine hesitated, looking super uncomfortable. Wren wondered if she had trouble with crowds.
"I have a… place pretty close by that I can probably walk to, but I'd feel bad leaving you alone," she said.
"A 'place'?" Wren repeated incredulously.
"Well, Byron lives kinda close to here, and since I go to his place pretty often I have a little area with this super old car parked there for emergencies," Celine rambled.
"I'm not gonna lie, that's really weird," Wren said, still very confused. There wasn't even a guarantee that car would work, and having a 'place' was a little sketchy. They weren't thrilled about walking in the snow, but they were even less thrilled with the idea of letting Celine walk off by herself. That was a disappearance waiting to happen.
"If… if you don't mind taking me along, I could walk with you to your… 'place' and you could drive me home?" they suggested. After a moment, Celine nodded.
"This is such a bad idea," Wren muttered to themself, then they followed Celine into the snow.
***
After about ten minutes of walking, the snow had soaked through Wren's shoes. They really regretted not just going back inside, but at this point Celine's car was probably closer than the party.
At least Celine seemed to know where she was going even if she'd severely underestimated how long it would take to get there.
"I'm sorry, I really didn't think it would take this long," she apologized, looking just as miserable as they felt. She looked more uncomfortable than cold though, shifting from side to side and fidgeting with her warm looking hoodie.
"It's f-fine," Wren muttered, only lying a little bit. They were really regretting not bringing a warmer jacket. "As long as you don't get lost, then we're screwed."
"No, I know exactly where we're going," she said confidently. "I'm good with directions I just have trouble with distance sometimes."
Celine gave them an apologetic look backwards. She stopped as she noticed them shivering.
"Are you ok? Do you want to use my jacket?" She asked, sounding worried. Wren shook their head vehemently.
"No, no, then you'll be cold. I'll be fine for another couple of minutes, let's just get there quickly."
Celine looked worried, but kept walking. Over the next minute she looked more and more fidgety, until finally she stopped. Wren shot her a questioning look, but she wasn't meeting their eyes.
"I have… an idea," she started hesitantly. "It'll be warmer, and we'll get there quicker, but… it'll be kind of shocking. Do… do you trust me?"
Wren stared at the girl who was basically a stranger, leading them to an unknown location in the snow. At this point, they thought it was a little late to be evaluating their life choices, and they told her as much.
"I mean, if you're a serial killer it's a little late for me to suddenly realize how sketchy this situation is," they joked nervously. "But I think, and I really hope, that I can trust you." Celine smiled, but she took a couple of steps back.
"Thank you, I think," she said. "Just… don't freak out, ok?"
Wren nodded, feeling more freaked out by the second. Celine took a deep breath, then stopped fidgeting, completely relaxing for the first time since Wren had met her. They watched in fascination as she looked somehow freer, less stressed, and taller. Then their heart skipped a beat as they realized that she was actually getting taller, it wasn't just their imagination.
They watched with wide eyes as Celine slowly grew, until she was twice their height, then three times, so tall they had to crane their head to look up at her. A massive shadow fell over them as she blocked out the light from the moon and the distant streetlamps. She knelt, but kept growing, getting so tall that they couldn't see all of her at once.
Wren didn't even realize they were backing up until they ran into something large and warm. They jumped and looked back, shocked at the size of the hand behind them. Celine's hand was now big enough to completely cover them. They stood in stunned shock as Celine gently cupped her hand around them, her fingers almost as long as their body. Wren looked back up in awe.
"Celine?" They asked, voice sounding small, even to their ears.
"It's ok," Celine said. She sounded like she was whispering, but Wren could feel the vibrations from the sound. Far above them, Celine smiled.
Fingers moved around them, and Wren's attention was brought to the impossibly big hand at their back. They stared as another hand the size of a mattress appeared at their side.
Wren suddenly knew exactly what a hamster felt like when being picked up, as hands cupped them from both sides, gently maneuvering them to sit in the palm of Celine's hand. Warmth radiated from her hand, and they could feel her heartbeat pulsing beneath them.
They were torn between being nervous and amazed, and they settled for studying the incredible close-up of hands in front of them. They hesitantly reached out to touch Celine's fingertips, their breath catching as they traced the detailed lines.
Wren felt a slight sense of vertigo as they were lifted higher. Celine had lifted them to her face, and the full force of a giant's attention distracted them.
"Are you feeling warmer now?" Celine asked, and Wren felt the vibrations where they sat. It took a couple seconds for them to process the question, and they nodded, still too shocked to speak. Their heart was beating a little too fast, and they realized they'd been silent for far too long.
"C-celine, what… how?" They stammered, unable to tear their gaze away from her. It would be hard to look away if they wanted to, considering she took up most of their vision.
"I'm a sizeshifter," Celine said, a smile that they would've called small if they were the same size on her face. The phrase rang a bell, and they wracked their memory. They remembered their parents using the phrase years ago but they thought that was a fairytale. Apparently not.
Wren stared for another moment before the amazement finally overtook the shock of suddenly feeling so tiny.
"That's so cool!" They blurted, a smile breaking out onto their face.
***
Celine had been nervous about showing her ability. Wren seemed trustworthy, but it wasn't something she just told people. She'd been planning to shift and walk on her own. The discomfort from not letting herself shift had been growing since they left the party.
However, when Wren insisted on coming with her, and refused to take her jacket, she couldn't bear seeing them so cold. Not when the walk was so much longer at human size than she remembered. Not when she had such an easy solution that would help them both.
They seemed nervous at first, but she thought it was more the shock of seeing someone grow taller than a house than actual fear for their safety. And after less than a minute of sitting in her hand, they stopped shivering, so she counted that as a win.
Once Wren got over their initial shock, they were excited, looking up at her with an awed expression that made her feel embarrassed. They seemed a little too flustered to talk much, so she stood as slowly as she could, trying to keep her hands from shaking too much.
Wren seemed ok, waving up at her with a shy smile, and looking out in fascination. She started walking again, making progress much quicker, and they eventually relaxed against her fingers.
Her heart melted, and she felt flattered at the amount of trust she was being shown. Honestly, she thought Wren would be scared off once she mentioned the hideout she had for if she needed to grow. Of course she hadn't called it that, but the wording had been weird enough to scare anyone off.
But Wren had stayed, and even now was trusting her, sitting calmly in her hands and listening as she chatted about something she read recently.
Eventually, even sitting in her hands couldn't keep the chill away, and they started shivering again. They weren't that far from Celine's hideout, but she asked them anyways.
"Would it be ok if I put you in my pocket? It would be a little bit warmer."
Wren nodded, and she carefully shifted them to one hand. They held onto her fingers for balance, seemingly fascinated by watching her hands move up close. She carefully moved them to the opening of her pocket, tilting her hand and letting them slide off into the hoodie pocket. She stuck her hands inside, careful not to squish them. After a moment, she felt them lean against her hands, getting comfortable in the warm pocket.
She walked cautiously for the next minute, careful not to shake them up too much. When she reached the hideout, she sank to a seated position.
"We're here," she said quietly, not wanting to move Wren without warning. There was no response.
"Wren?" She carefully felt around her pocket. Her tiny passenger was curled up against her hands, breathing deeply. She smiled as she realized they fell asleep.
"I guess I'll let them sleep a bit longer," she whispered to herself as she watched the now tiny snowflakes falling and felt the gentle breathing of her tiny friend.
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Rescue (5/?)
Pairing - Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU
Summary - You’ve always believed your soulmate was out there somewhere, Bucky not so much. What happens when he finally takes a leap of faith and reaches out to you?
Warnings - some canon-typical violence in later chapters, the occasional curse word, but I promise to make up for it with loads of fluffiness
Chapter Word Count - 1798
Notes - Posting has gone from once a week to super sporadic lol (sorry everyone!). My goal is currently to have it finished before school starts in a few weeks. Inspired by Rescue by Lauren Daigle and by a lot of the concepts in Sense8.
Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
...a few weeks later...
“Dogs or cats?” Bucky was leaning back against his headboard, idly flipping a knife as he listened for your answer.
“Hmmm… that’s a tough one. I’m gonna say cats for right now, dogs later when I have a bigger place. I’d feel bad leaving a pupper cooped up in here while I’m at work.” You rinsed your plate and set it in the drying rack, moving to drain the sink and reaching for a dishtowel.
“I get that. Been thinking of getting a cat myself. It’d be nice to have around but would also drive Sam crazy, win-win. Your turn, Y/N.”
“Any broken bones?” You asked as you hung the dishtowel up and headed to get ready for bed.
Bucky barely stifled a laugh. “More than I care to count, doll, ribs and fingers mostly. Comes with the job.”
You try to picture him shrugging his shoulders like what he said was no big deal as you finish washing your face, shaking your head as the image fails you. “Wow… I forget how dangerous your job is sometimes…” you whispered the last bit to yourself but you knew he had to have heard you.
Not willing to let you dwell on that thought, Bucky presses forward, “How ‘bout you, hmm? Break an arm maybe? Collarbone...?”
“Nope, not a single one actually. I did have to get stitches once but I was so young I don’t remember it. Busted my face on the corner of a table when I was a toddler. Still have the scar.” You peer closer into your bathroom mirror, gently running a finger over the thin white line.
“Ouch… maybe we’ll compare scars one day..”
Bucky sheaths his knife, turning out his bedside lamp and slipping under his sheets, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Meanwhile you’ve slipped into your pjs and climbed into bed as well, a comfortable silence enveloping you both as you tuck into a ball under your covers. Your mind begins to wander, the dark and the quiet opening doors to thoughts and questions that typically remain dormant during the light of day.
“Hey Bucky?”
“Yeah, doll?”
“Can I ask you a hard question?”
“Sure…” His heartbeat picked up, suddenly wary of what you were about to ask.
“Did um… w-were you one of the ones that got dusted?”
He let out a slow breath, the memories of that terrible day playing back in his mind. “Yeah… not the most comfortable feeling.”
“Same. I remember… I remember being so confused and then… nothing. Until we all blipped back that is. Adjusting to a world that went on without you for five years hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.”
“Tell me about it…” he murmurs, his thoughts going much further back than the five short years you both lost, the statement ringing with more truth than he was ready to admit yet.
You clear your throat, “Well, I certainly ruined the mood.” Laughing nervously you forge on. “Time for a new topic, I think it’s your turn...?”
“Sure, let’s see… how are things at work?”
“It’s alright, nothing exciting really. It’s not my dream job or anything, but it pays the bills and the girls I work with are pretty nice so there’s that. How about you? I’m sure your job and the people you work with are a thousand times more interesting than what I’ve got going on.”
Bucky smiles fondly, “Well you already know Sam, can’t live with him, can’t work without him. He’s fun to mess with but I couldn’t ask for a better friend or partner… not since my last one anyway... But Sam’s not nearly as reckless as Steve. Steve was a handful in the best of times, always looking for a fight but in a good way, never backed down when he knew it was the right thing to do… Feels like I’ve been watching his back my whole life…”
“Sounds like you two were close? Did he… did something happen...?”
“Oh yeah he ah.. he sorta retired..? Just decided he was tired of putting his life on hold for the next mission. I supported him but it was still hard to see him go.”
“That’s very noble of you Bucky. You are an amazing friend and partner. He was so lucky to have you.” The admiration and pride in your voice is unmistakable.
Not one for taking compliments well, a flustered Bucky attempts to lighten the situation. “Life goes on right? The world may be getting weirder every day, especially since everyone came back, but I think I’ve found my place in it.”
“That’s so good to hear… I still feel a bit out of place, most of my friends survived the blip and are just in completely different places in their lives than I am. We still talk but I don’t think it’ll ever be the same…” You pulled your blanket tighter around yourself, snuggling deeper into your nest and shaking off the negative thoughts clouding your mind. “So, tell me more about Sam, what makes him so fun to mess with?”
Bucky can’t help but laugh, “Literally everything. He’s so dramatic and it’s way too easy to push his buttons. Just the other day, we were training and he was working on throwing his shie---umm I mean this new sort of weapon and I mayyyy have been telling him the wrong thing just so it would knock him on his ass. Laughed about that for days.”
You found yourself laughing right along with him, eventually ending with a sweet sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to see you smile...”
Bucky stops laughing abruptly and you immediately know you’re the cause of the sudden tension between you. Unlike previous times however you resolve not to cave or opt for the awkward smooth-over. Time to face your fears, Y/N.
“Bucky, part of me desperately wants to apologize for saying that but honestly, the rest of me isn’t sorry at all. I really do want you to be totally comfortable with me and I know I promised not to push you but… I need you to know that seeing you, eventually touching and being with you is something I genuinely want. I mean how could I not want that with the man that I lo--” the words stuck in your throat as you caught yourself, “...th-that I’m meant to be with? You’re my soulmate Bucky, you have to know what that means to me, to us.”
Bucky felt like he was torn in two, reluctant to admit that the thought of letting you all the way in was getting to be as stressful as keeping you out but then again he was the stubborn type. “It’s not just about you seeing me doll, it’s about what seeing me will mean, it’s about my whole life and all the crazy that it entails.”
“You know… you know you can be honest with me right? I can handle it, I promise. There is literally nothing that you could tell me that would drive me away from you, okay? Nothing.”
“How can you promise me that?. You can’t possibly mean it. You don’t know… you don’t know my whole story. It’s not a pretty one.” You can feel his walls going up but you can’t hold it in any longer. It’s now or never...
“What if…” you swallow nervously, “w-what if I told you I did know. That I know you better than you think I do...”
Your words flowed like ice through his veins. “What are you saying Y/N?”
“I-I started to put two and two together almost immediately, as soon as you told me your name. It’s not that common you know....” He’s so quiet you wonder if he has stopped breathing. Knowing there’s no turning back you continue, “And there were so many little things that kept adding up: that you were so reluctant to let me see you, how you told me you used to be military but now you work in security... that you live and train with Sam, Sam Wilson right? Or that time you were out of contact for a week and the story broke about the Falcon and the Winter Soldier taking down that terrorist cell? I know that was you Bucky, I’m not crazy.”
You took a deep breath, calming down a bit. “Did you really think your soulmate would be that clueless? That the person meant to be with you. a literal Avenger, wouldn't be able to figure it out? I’m not upset with you, I promise. It's not like you lied to me, everything you said was ‘technically’ the truth. But... the more I learned about you the more I confirmed my hunch and the more I felt like I was lying to you, and that just didn’t sit well with me.”
Silence was all you could hear on Bucky’s end but you knew he was still there. You gnawed at your lower lip worried that you had made a horrible mistake. “I wanted to come out and just tell you, so many times, but at the same time I had promised not to push you. I was waiting for you to be ready to tell me but I was also starting to worry that it was never going to happen. Bucky I’m so sorry, I--”
Bucky blurted out, “Why are you still here then?! You should have shut me out already. How could finding out not change how you felt about me? Y/N, I’m not just some guy with a military past and a job that takes me away for days, weeks, sometimes months at a time, that’s enough to put a strain on any relationship. But I’m also over a hundred years old, I deal with literal alien threats, and a-and I’ve killed so many people… those memories, the things they did to me, that part of my life is a literal hellhole, and it doesn’t go away, ever. It’s always with me… all those years without memories and now I’d give anything to forget…” You could hear his labored breathing, the anguish in his voice. Tears welled up in your eyes for him, ashamed that you’d hurt him but also desperate to be the one to comfort him. “Y/N I’m-- I’m sorry, I have to go. I need some space right now.”
“Wait Bucky, don’t---” and just like that the connection severs. Not completely thank goodness, you can still sense your bond deep down, but you feel as though a chasm has formed between the two of you.
“I’m not going anywhere Bucky… I love you...” you whisper into the silence, hoping somewhere, somehow that he can still hear you.
Part 6
Taggy tag tags: @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @sebspocketsquare @sgtbxckybxrnes @bionic-buckyb @plumfondler @imaginingbucky @sexonastickstan @angryschnauzer @witchymarvelspacecase @palaiasaurus64 @eyecandybarnes @promarvelfangirl @the-observant-fangirl @ballyhoobarnes @trinityjadec @kjs-s @sebbytrash @true-queen-of-mischief @buckthegrump @moondancewrites @thisisjamesbarnes @beccaanne814 @oneshot-shit @moonbeambucky @stevieang @tnupsweetpie @avenger-nerd-mom @eyesfixedonthesun22 @searchingforbucky @notimetoblog @sugarfreecapsicle @nomadicpixel @nacho-bucky @sarahwroteathing @captain-rogers-beard @buckys-darling @tilltheendwilliwrite @ifellinnthepit
@marie-is-in-the-dark @lorilane33 @igothroughphasesalot
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The week boasted no irregularities at Night Raven College, an unusual feat for an institution of its background. You however, having lived every week since your arrival shrouded with stress if not by the overblottings, then a troublesome class assignment, rather enjoyed the silence and appreciated it(while you still could).
It was Friday and the last bell of the day had rung, a cacophony of relieved sighs following the loud ringing alongside the rustling of materials being put away. You, as well as your irritating, arrogant cat roommate packed your bags as the teacher gave one last reminder of the homework. As it was the weekend, you would concern yourself with it until Sunday night.
You turned to Grimm as you both stood in the hallway, Ace and Deuce having just exited the classroom amongst a throng of final period students eager to return to their dorms. “I was about to tell Grimm, but since you’re both here, I’ll let everyone know,” you said as Deuce and Ace arrived to your standing point, “I’m not sure I’ll make it to movie night this evening so you guys can start without me.”
The four of you had planned a perfect and relaxing evening with enough food that would be enough to satisfy your craving for junk. Needless to say, you were annoyed to have missed such an opportunity. Especially as your guys’ schedules had uniformly lined up after a very long time of deliberation. Crowley sure had a knack for ruining your opportunities to relax.
Ace shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, let’s just reschedule for another day.”
“But we’ve been planning this for weeks! For once we all are not super tired after a single day. Besides, we already have all the snacks and finally convinced Headmaster to let us borrow his projection device-“
“Like Ace said,” began Deuce, interrupting Grim on his whining tirade, “it’s not like we can’t reschedule. Though I’m a little disappointed, I wouldn’t want you missing your errands.”
“By the way Prefect, since we’re on the subject, where are you going?” Ace still had that carefree smile, it eased your nerves for what was to come this afternoon.
You pulled out your student ID and pointed out what set it apart from regular students’. “This stamped crest at the bottom right corner recognizes me as an official Dorm leader, it will also let me into the room where Dorm leaders hold their meetings...”
The stamp in question was just like the official school crest, except the crow was positioned differently and instead of black print, it was red. You stared at it shortly before pocketing the laminated identification card.
“So, if I am understanding correctly,” Deuce muttered, “you’re attending a Dorm leader meeting?!” You winced at his booming words but nodded, a little confused with his outburst. He didn’t let you linger with confusion, “It’s just that, and these are just what the rumors say, but apparently Dorm leader meetings are incredibly violent. They begin arguing and escalate to a full blown magic battle.”
That didn’t sound too good.
“Then it makes sense that the door is sealed, Headmaster wouldn’t want students witnessing the Dorm leaders in disarray, huh?” Hummed Ace. You had a vague hunch the sealing was there for other reasons besides privacy but Ace suspected it too. It may be exactly as he said...
You could all but calm your jitters now, just what did you get yourself into? Or more like, what did Headmaster Crowley want from you this time? He was the one who asked you to attend mind you.
“Rest easy Prefect, you have your phone so if anything goes wrong, call or text us.” Deuce always knew what to say.
“Thank you Deuce, that’s very reassuring,” you smiled sincerely for you did feel much better. With a temporary silence, where all four of you stood awkwardly until you decided it was inevitable, you said your goodbyes, “Well, I’ll be off now. Wouldn’t want to be late on my first Dorm leader meeting.” You tried to put on a cheery smile but all that came out was one that looked eerily similar to how it would if someone had stitched the corners of your lips to lift them.
You exchanged “Goodbye’s,” some “good luck’s,” before ultimately starting down the hallway. The three magicians stood behind as you, their magicless friend, disappeared into a different corridor.
Ace then after said, “Well, can’t help it, we’ll just have to find a different day”
“You try to sound like you don’t care but you were actually very eager to show Prefect the movie you chose, huh” teased Deuce. And so, another round of bickering ensued as the desolate and ignored Grimm tried to regain their attention.
.
From the moment you stepped away from the comfort of your circle, the heaviness in the pit of your stomach increased tenfold. You could not imagine the refined and respectable Dorm leaders would really break the rules in front of the Headmaster, this logic gave you some semblance. Alas it could only last so long when you remembered how far Leona had gone just to remove from the Magift tournament your good friend Malleus.
Indeed a worrying amount of bad blood existed amongst the Dorm-heads but you hoped it would be subdued with the authoritative presence of Crowley. You’d hate to be caught up in any more magic spectacles. The sheer negativity from an overblot was enough to overwhelm a magician, so one could only fathom your exhaustion at such an exposure without an ounce of magical blood in your veins.
When you stopped in front of the designated door, your thoughts also stopped. Instead you realized how paranoid you’d become, so much so that you were thinking about a potential overblot during the meeting. It was silly to be this nervous, you had spoken with all of them and had befriended a few. How difficult would it be to sit through a likely mundane talk that would regard upcoming events?
Maybe there’d be bickering of course, but that was expected as not everyone would be in agreement at all times. They each were very unique individuals with equally unique thought processes. However knowing them, they would go onto personal territory and begin insulting one another. Which could lead to pent up frustrations being released and a whole blown out magic battle-
Slapping your checks gently, you deescalated the situation that had felt all too much like a premonition. From the pocket of your uniform, you pulled out your student ID.
Now, you’d dealt with magical tools before but that didn’t mean you were never at a complete loss when introduced to something new. You thought to bring it up like a scanner, but to no avail were you granted access. You fiddled with the door and the ID card for a couple of minutes, spying the time was five minutes before the meeting began.
At the moment your eyes landed on your wrist watch which was elevated to the level of the door’s knob, you noticed a small slit right above it. You slid the card in, first turned up, second time turned down.
Your third try you did face up again, with the end where your picture was located at tucked in first. An electronic beep followed, and as the door opened, you cheered at having bested the admittance tool that was much like a credit card machine.
The room seemed dark at first, or well that was more of your impression of it. Much of Night Raven College followed a dark, gothic type architecture as well as aesthetic. You weren’t surprised that everyone was already here, seated around a circular table with papers, pencils, and other materials laid askew.
You’d never been to one of these, so all you had on you was your backpack. That should work as it carried your writing utensils though. One more thing you noticed that set you apart, was that you were still in your school uniform. It seemed everyone else was wearing their dorm uniforms, even Malleus who never attended a meeting due to poor invitation etiquette(from other dorm leaders) stood out less than you, and he was well over six feet tall.
And it also seemed like Vil had made Captain Obvious his role, “Look at this potato, absolutely inconceivable that you would come to a meeting in those dirty rags.”
“You practically wear the same thing,” you pointed out, but the next attack swooped in so quickly and ridiculously you were left flabbergasted.
Riddle had been the orchestrator of the attack, having stated in his harsh tone, “You’re late.”
After twisting your eyebrows, you argued, “Even the clock says it’s 2 minutes before 4-“ You wanted to say that their little tea party didn’t seem too important but held your tongue. You had a feeling Riddle wouldn’t allow you access to the snacks if you spoke back anymore and frankly, you were starving.
“You should have a seat Prefect, Headmaster is very particular about everyone being in their place when the meeting begins.” Azul was kind enough to inform you.
You found it funny how Crowley demanded order in the meeting room but couldn’t do the same in dire ordeals involving a certain group of Dorm leaders. But enough about that, you needed a seat quickly.
However, there was no empty seats. You looked wayward into the room and found a sad little stool in the corner. It so happened to be made of the heaviest metal. The head splitting noise of the feet of the stool dragging on the floor filled the vicinity. You could feel a number of gazes on your back as you tried not to focus on the other occupants.
Whether it was by mercy or annoyance, definitely the latter, you were suddenly lifted and sat on the stool, you held on for dear life as it floated at a rapid pace to the table and then haphazardly twisted so you were facing everyone. You were squeezed between the floating tablet that had its own chair and Kalim.
Vil huffed as if exasperated and drolly commented as he leaned his chin on his palm, “If you are to continue to attend these meetings, you have to wear appropriate attire that represents your dorm.”
“But Ramshackle dorm doesn’t even have a crest(or clean water), there’s nothing to represent-“
“Up up, you will not argue with me. Make sure to have a uniform next time you come or I’ll personally make it so that you cannot enter this room.” Vil was always very harsh with you. Unlike everyone else who seemed to care less about the garbs you had on, he seemed especially offended. “You think you can look however as a Dorm leader? How can you call yourself an advocate for Ramshackle Dorm when you can’t even put the minimal effort into your appearance.”
You didn’t think you looked as awful as Vil criticized. Maybe your hair was a little frizzy and unkept at the hairline and your shirt wasn’t as tucked in as earlier but it wasn’t like you came in caked in mud either. Vil had impossibly high standards. However now that you noticed, you looked notably more unruly than the rest who had not a wrinkle in place and didn’t look like the standard tired student after a long day of classes. But then, suddenly some help-
“Ah, just knock it off. All your whining is getting on my nerves,” huffed Leona. He was leaned back with his eyelids closed and that angry look on his face. Whether his intention was to help you or not, you had to be thankful for his very honest character. Some disliked his bluntness and called him lazy, but questionable morals aside, you actually thought Leona was quite efficient. As they say, “lazy” people aren’t lazy, they are simply smart enough to come up with a more convenient and trouble free process. You were brought back from your thoughts by the lion himself, “Besides, he’s gonna arrive soon-“
“More like now-“ at Kalim’s excitable tone, the shrill of shattering glass engulfed your ears and you knew immediately, based on that very wasteful entrance, that Crowley had arrived.
As said, he stood before you as a flood of heaven’s light from the sizable hole in the window entered the murky, dank walls of hell. Crowley scanned the room and did a double take on you.
Your stool was much shorter than the high chairs everyone else had been graced with, you were also more or less slumping in an attempt to make yourself smaller. This was unconsciously done of course, try as you might you couldn’t stop acknowledging how little you fit in with the rest of the room’s inhabitants.
Crowley’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, as if he was at a loss for words. If you didn’t know any better, he was probably at a loss for words.
He said while his beady little eyes settled on your face, “Oh, well look who’s here early!”
“It’s ten minutes past the meeting time,” Riddle said rather snarkily.
“Ah yes...” the man in question mumbled, then after shouting, “BUT, we shall get started immediately!” Crowley had declared. “Come then Dorm leaders, let me listen to your complaints”
“I’d hardly call them complaints, they’re more like issues that need to be resolved for the sake of the student’s safety,” said Azul after a clean rearranging of his papers. “Octavinelle can deal with its own problems, however when those problems transcend outside of our plumbing abilities, we will request help from a third party source.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and with finality said, “That third party source is you, Headmaster”
The pressure was on in a matter of seconds. You knew Crowley’s tune too well to understand that he had probably procrastinated on a lot of the topics that would be mentioned today. Half of you couldn’t wait to see his ear chewed off for once and the other half dreaded the length of this meeting for this was a meeting that involved Crowley and responsibility. Two elements like those simply did not mix.
And you were right... His first response?
Evasion.
“A-ah, I see. But Azul, was the flooding not fixable by magic?” The crow man said. You looked between the two, Azul’s eyebrows jutting down almost immediately after that statement.
“Headmaster Crowley, you should know that magic is not the solution to all of our problems. Besides, it’s only a temporary fix that is becoming more, and more frequent to see to. Please contact the plumbing company and have them fix our flooding problem-“
“Stupid.”
Oh dear. Dear, dear lord. You hoped he hadn’t any more insulting elaborating for your premonition would become very true if a certain octopus’s temper wasn’t moderated.
The single word had come from Leona. You had all paused to listen to the lion who chuckled mockingly much to your dismay. “You live underwater and you’re complaining about a flooding problem? To me it sounds like all you need is a custom pot and you’ll feel right at home”
Was Leona still annoyed that his deal had been for naught during the magift tournament? Definitely. Was Azul still brimming with irritation that his contracts had been reduced to dust? Without a doubt.
“Maybe you should concern yourself with that flea infestation from your own stye” Azul replied coolly. Your eyes widened as you looked down, feeling an awkward tension suddenly rise. You weren’t surprised an argument was being instigated between these two. Based on a couple of previous mentioned incidents that is.
You just wished nobody else would warrant any more input. Alas, it seemed these days all you did was hopeful and useless wishing.
“Cease your mindless bickering, you sound like fools. There are actual topics in need of discussion and exchanging insults won’t resolve them,” Riddle was the one who had mentioned.
But then he was in the line of fire, “If we’re bringing up issues that need discussion, then I’d like to put in a formal complaint against Riddle.” Riddle sputtered at Leona’s words. “He overworks his students and forces them into useless tasks like painting roses red. It makes it worse when you find out that he dictates the outfits they wear and makes them do it under the blistering heat.”
“I most certainly do not!” Riddle had shouted and appeared to be gaining a red hue to his face. “The weather in Heartslabyul is regulated”
“So you don’t deny that you exhaust your students regardless of the weather?” Leona added another quip, “ You wouldn’t be so defensive if you weren’t with any faults, your tomato face gives it all away.”
“Now now, do not insult Riddle for wanting to make his Dorm a beautiful place. We should praise him for putting in the effort of making it look so gorgeous unlike that barren wasteland of yours Leona. It’s an absolute eyesore,” drawled Vil.
“What’s an eyesore is that your face looks more like cake than cake itself Vil,” the lion fired back. Vil was readying his rebuttal. You clenched your teeth and looked helpless between both, looking to Crowley who had taken to sipping delicately out of a tea cup. Bastard.
It’s not that you were concerned for their strained relationships, it’s what their strained relationships entailed for you. Crowley wouldn’t herd his students into peaceful territory, instead he’d leave you to it. Once again the responsibility would be dumped onto you at the expense of having Crowley look for a way for you to return to your world. You sighed dejectedly as you watched the unfolding ordeal.
Before you knew it, Azul had jumped back into the mix and was berating Leona for always instigating fights with his “childish” comments.
“If I’m so childish for stating the obvious, what does that make you guys for stringing along?” His rhetorical question seemed only to further fan the flames of rage in the three Dorm leaders. You looked at Kalim besides you who was laughing loudly.
So carefree and free spirited...
He pointed excitedly and said to you, “It always seems to go South, just enjoy the show while it lasts!”
“I don’t remember it always being like this. But I suppose things changed in my absence.” Malleus chimed into yours and Kalim’s discussion.
“They did. A lot of us don’t have very good chemistry with one another. It always ends up in a big fight if Headmaster doesn’t intervene” said Idia on the other side of the floating tablet.
“But is it okay to simply sit back without doing anything to put a stop to them?” Malleus questioned, looking quite troubled. From what you were told(that he wasn’t ever invited to these meetings), you discerned Malleus had been quite looking forward to interacting with his peers.
Ah but there was no way to when more than half of the Dorm leaders were engaging in a verbal battle with one another.
Idia had said what you and Kalim had both been thinking, “If you try to stop them, you’ll just be dragged into their mindless argument like Riddle and Vil”
“It’s so easy to get lost in the rage. Idia and I have both fallen victims to the petty behavior,” Kalim said with a wicked wide grin. You don’t understand why he looks so proud of himself...
“Yes, it’s like this room is cursed or something,” Idia remarked.
You sighed wearily, “I don’t think the room is the problem...”
The lot of you watched on as the insults grew more and more personal. Unbelievable that they were so egotistical and prideful. Vil really felt like he was above all others(which you found ridiculous; beauty was subjective and as far as you knew, he only adhered to a selected society’s beauty standard). Riddle really believed he could exercise control over the rest(it would be better if he would try to coax the others into a compromise like an equal but instead he decided to shout commands like an arrogant, tyrannical brat). Leona was prideful and that bluntness you had praised not even ten minutes ago was becoming the bane of your existence. Speaking of banes, Azul couldn’t be more insufferable with his know it all attitude.
You had not realized that Crowley’s demeanor had shifted to something much darker and sinister as the arguing winded along. Finally he broke. Just like his tea cup.
“SILENCE,” the crow man shouted, effectively silencing the Dorm leaders, “YOU ALL HAVE ME SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR CONSTANT SHOUTING MATCHES!”
“Headmaster, you are shouting yourself,” Kalim said, matter of factory, scratching his temple with a single digit.
“Ah. Ahem, excuse me,” Crowley let the components of the tea cup he shattered crumble to the floor. They landed with a clink in the quiet room. “It’s been consistent arguments from you all and it’s very disappointing to witness this kind of behavior from you, who are considered elites at this already elite institution. I will not tolerate this blatant insubordination. You are Dorm heads and as such, are expected to conduct yourselves like so under all circumstances. You’ve disrespected and defiled your titles with your selfish and childish behavior and have left me no choice but to give a punishment of the worst severity.”
.
A heavy quietude hung in the air. The threat breathed down all your necks as you all waited with bated breaths. You hoped Crowley wouldn’t dish out the very formidable punishment to you. After all, you’d done nothing wrong. Crowley wouldn’t know what was coming his way if he even considered involving you in any more Dorm leader altercations.
Riddle braved up a few ass kissing words, “We understand Headmaster and will accept any punishment you give us”
“It was completely juvenile of us to act in such a way that defiles the good image of a Dorm leader,” Vil followed up.
“Yes, we profoundly apologize and will not do it again.” Azul bowed his head in shame.
Leona said nothing, for he had been truthful with his feelings and felt no remorse in expressing them. He thought the other three looked quite like boot-lickers offering suck up statements. Whatever Crowley had to offer, he could take it.
Bring it on he mentally challenged the bird man.
“Your punishment is,” Crowley sucked in a long breath, purposely leaving you all with the suspense. “So horrific you’ll spend every single day in complete and utter agony. Every moment will be a torturous reliving of your worst nightmare. You will come out changed men... traumatized changed men.” A few had nervous sweat drops rolling down their temples and others looked comically stone faced. “You all will be subjected to the cruelest, most severe repercussion.” Crowley said, “You will be subjected to...” and you all stood at the edge of your seats. The time came when he revealed the long awaited words, “A sleepover.”
.
.
.
“Huh?”
Leona was wrong...
HE COULD NOT TAKE THAT! Bring it back! Sweet sweet and noble ancestor, reverse this curse-
“WHAT!?” Vil’s shrill scream was enough to make you wince. Azul was stunned to silence much like the rest of you.
In all honesty you didn’t think it was that bad. Until-
“In Ramshackle dorm-“
“WHAT!?” It was your turn to scream as you stood up, knocking your stool over and causing a cry as it made harsh contact with the floor.
“For seven days-“
“WHAT!?” You all shouted in unison, baffled by the unexpected turn of events.
Crowley had nerve.
“To offer my dorm like that,” you sputtered in disbelief, “it’s unacceptable Headmaster!”
“Fufu, it’s the only place big enough to house you eight and isolated enough to keep you from interacting with anyone but each other.” Crowley explained as if you had all accepted it and come to terms yet. You would raise hell before you even considered allowing it. And you did.
“I refuse-“
“I override your refusal. This is for the benefit of the school and my decision is final.” That piece of no good dog shit. Bird brains were small with high capacities however this one seemed to only be small and know how to only be small. “I am very busy so I cannot police the Dorm leaders into acting civilized enough to not embarrass the school. However I will provide Ramshackle with all the necessities to host the additional seven temporary students for I am gracious.” He goaded.
“No Headmaster, you are not being gracious at all,” you fired back, “I don’t understand why you have to lump me in with all of them. Never mind that I am a Dorm leader, you never recognize me as an official one except when you need something from me. On top of that, why is Kalim, Idia, and Malleus being punished as well?”
“Kalim and Idia have previously participated in the discourse. As for Malleus...” Crowley rubbed his chin, “Well, I suppose it would be a learning experience for him. I’m sure Lilia will approve.”
“You still haven’t answered why you’re lumping me in as well- Hey!” You cried as you ran after the bird man who had hopped out of the window and was falling fifty feet. “Headmaster you can’t just leave without an explanation!”
“But I have explained already,” his voice echoed as you leaned out the cavity in the stained glass pane, “You are an impressive beast tamer! I trust all will go well in your hands! And be sure to have Ramshackle dorm ready to receive its new students by 7:00pm tomorrow!”
Ah... he was gone just like that. What do you know, he didn’t even let you chew him out...
The room that had been in chaos suddenly descended into a space void of any sound but breathing.
.
.
.
“Don’t say anything,” you weakly mumbled as you glared at the spires of NRC, the wind blowing through the flags and essentially masking Crowley’s location. You were sure that everyone had heard the crow man’s last few shouts of information, but had probably missed the one that pertained particularly to you. Defeated you turned to the rest and said in an eerily calm voice, “I need to make the preparations, please be on time tomorrow evening and make sure you have everything you will need for a week”
“But wait, aren’t you against this? Why are you suddenly giving in?” Kalim uttered, probably put off by your change in demeanor. In truth, you were still definitely against it but you took Crowley’s words like a threat.
Fingers tapped against your chin, “I think all of our hands are tied. You guys can’t disobey Crowley and I can’t afford to put him in bad graces with me.”
“Still, for him to just declare something like that and disappear without elaborating...” Vil seemed exasperated as the rest of you. You could hear Idia’s nervous breathing through the tablet as Riddle spoke up.
“With or without elaborating, it’s like you said,” he gestured to you, “we cannot disobey. Especially as he is correct in the fact that we have acted out of line.”
“Regardless of how quickly things have happened, I’ll have you guys know that I lock the doors at 10:00pm sharp. Be on time please.” You were already picking up your bag and heading out the door dejectedly. “Also, don’t forget anything!”
•———•••———•••———•••———•••———•
Ahaaa this chapter is super rushed and choppy but I’m looking most forward to writing interactions between the characters as they all settle into their new lifestyles for a whole week.
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i!! have a question i don't think has been asked before? we always see the skeletons being incredibly talented in their chosen fields of expertise, but what are some things they're just downright terrible at? which of the ladies can't draw for shit, who would rather sit at the bottom of a pool for a few hours than be responsible for a few kids, who always forgets to throw away empty milk cartons? stuff like that! gimme them Character Flaws tm because honestly i rarely see people focus on them??
Ohhh, this is a good one! I’m generally someone who aims to be positive so i tend to steer away from angsty asks, but that’s very different from character flaws; thinking about this sort of thing is a lot of fun too. Plus super important! … Also, I’m wheezing at “who would rather sit at the bottom of a pool for a few hours than be responsible for a few kids”.
So here goes! The major character flaws of the ladies, while also trying to not overlap/repeat (since several definitely share a few, but I don’t want to rehash, heh). (post-answer edit: woops these are all straight up character flaws, rather than ‘bad habit’ flaws, ahaha! that’ll have to be for another ask in the end XD )
Plus a bit of silver lining after all to heal any sad hearts ;v; Under a cut to save your dashes =v=b
Serif: Getting her to be honest about her negative feelings is like pulling teeth, oh stars. She’s a laidback lady, it’s not like she’s overly effusive with praise or anything; but positive and/or neutral feelings will come easily from her, with general honesty about it and not really hiding it. Sure she might tamp down on some flustered/’oh no she’s hot’ type reactions, but to a normal degree. And she’s fine with being honest with casual critique/review if it’s asked for. Any negative stuff bubbling up in her though…? Nope, no way, her mouth is shut tight. It��s to the point that you have to know her very well to tell the difference - and it’s definitely to a bit of an unhealthy degree. If she’s angry, or strongly upset, or so on, she just doesn’t talk about it.
Remember that line from Undertale? “nothing can be done about it, so there is no point in being morose?” It was something of a common theme in her Underground, but with all her responsibilities and her general personality she internalized it hard. It’s important to be able to relay negative feelings or just let yourself be mad, but you just won’t catch it with Serif. This one’s gonna take a lot of work to work through…
Vellum: She’s blunt. Now, this isn’t always a bad thing; honesty is great in a lot of circumstances, and she always hopes Serif will catch on too-! However, in any society, you have to know… when to curb yourself. You get yourself into trouble, others into trouble… you hurt feelings, or miss cues that might inform you better about a person, and sometimes even end up a bit self-centered. Vellum’s an absolute joy and a wonderful friend, but her bluntness can sometimes rub the wrong way.
Sometimes a softer touch is needed, you know? Reading people isn’t easy, and I certainly don’t think we should discount anyone who isn’t the greatest at it; but it’s also important to recognize as a character flaw. She’s not… the greatest at it, still. She has a bad habit of accidentally insulting people in utter good faith, making for a head trip and a bit of a struggle if you get into a tight spot with her where subtlety and creative liberties with the truth would be preferable.
Sapphire: Is absolutely bullheaded. She does any number of obscenely stubborn things with a grin and a good attitude, however, so a lot of people don’t realize it until she’s sort of… bowled over whatever else might’ve been happening. Think about in-fic, how she charged into your apartment; sure, it was with the good intent to get Addy before she could wreck shop, and with all the charm of her million-watt smile and sapphic-hand-holding powers, but she didn’t stop to ask, or explain much at all. Luckily for her, it ends up working out well because she is at least good natured…
However, it doesn’t always. She’s accidentally caused people to clam up further by trying to get them to open up, on the rare occasions she does get mad it’s hard to waylay her from a headstrong attempt to ‘right things’, and so on. It can be a bit exhausting to face or to reason with her, even more so because she is extremely smart and skilled enough to accomplish a lot. This side of her takes patience and, well, a lot of work to get through to.
Amber: is extremely soft-hearted. She looks laidback, yes, and often comes across as a chill charmer-next-door, but she has a soft spot a mile wide and untold fathoms deep. This seems like a good thing on the surface, but it also leads to her having a bleeding heart (… so to speak); she tends to negate her own feelings or sweep them under the rug in favor of others. Whether it’s not expressing her own frustrations often, or quietly taking into account everyone else’s preferences, weighing which one would make the most of them happy, and casually suggesting that as if it were the same as her own choice - well. It comes through in countless ways.
Her amicable nature trips up even more under the fact that most people don’t realize she’s such a bleeding heart, because she doesn’t act the way most people would think such a person would. So it becomes a spiral, where she ends up negating her own feelings more and more in favor of spreading a little more happiness to everyone else, in subtle ways they don’t even see. It closes her off to other people’s understanding, somewhat ironically, so it ends up being hard to get past that ‘wall’ of her own overactive empathy to actually get her to open up and think about herself and share more personal details and opinions.
Crimson: surprising no one, Crimson is quick-tempered. And I mean quick. For such a laidback lady, more than happy to joke and flirt and laze back with the handful of people she cares the most about, she can just as quickly snap, on her feet and barely - if at all - held back by those with her. It comes from a logical place - her entire life, she had to prove she was fierce and fiery enough to protect her little sister, to prove they weren’t going to be walked all over, to prove she was a force to reckon with. It’s embedded in who she is, now; and it can make it hard to broach certain topics or to get her to be vulnerable, emotionally most of all.
Her harsh temper is mostly directed on anyone who’d cross her and hers, but it can leech out and become a bit hairline in general if something’s gone down; she ends up hurting the people she tries to protect, and it kills her inside. She doesn’t want to be mad, not at them anyways - it puts her in a worse mood, hating herself for it, and self-perpetuates until she can find a way to eventually calm down enough to reset her temper. Her tendency to lash out like a wounded animal makes her all the more reticent to truly open up - after all, what if she lashes out when you’re even closer? Surely, surely that would hurt worse.
Scarlet: The most impatient of all the Lilytale crew. She can’t stand lateness - in herself or others; and she has very, very high standards. In fact, this comes from upholding herself to the highest standards, under the shortest of timeframes. See, growing up, as she caught on to all Crimson was having to do to protect them and make sure they were even fed, and Scarlet could get to school with at least a modicum of safety and dignity in being decently dressed/prepared and so on, she started to put pressure on herself. She didn’t have time to dawdle; she had to get smart, get strong, get fierce enough to be able to protect her big sister in turn. This feeling only grew as she did, and now, while she can have patience for strategic reasons (she’s impatient, not foolhardy), it runs very thin. Think to the fic, where she literally picked you up to take you to dinner.
Her impatience costs her the most in interpersonal relationships. Her own creeping need to be her best at all times as quickly as possible causes her to perhaps call things too soon with some acquaintances (especially in a peaceful world), or causes her to act rashly when an invisible clock has run out. She struggles to relax and take in the idle moments, something inherently critical for distressing and cultivating softer moments with those around you.
Pepper: happens to be the biggest perfectionist of all of them. As Cinnamon’s older sister, she had to help raise her in a world that would happily kick weak kids to the gutter if they didn’t prove themselves; she quickly became fiercely exacting, desperate to ensure she was the most capable fighter/protector, a stable provider, a monster to think twice about being messed with. She tried to give Cinn as regular a childhood as one could eke, while also encouraging her to develop the things she showed aptitude for… and trying to figure out ways to help her improve terrible weaknesses.
It’s something that comes from a… good place, but is inevitably a terrible weight on those around her if not checked. While currently she can at least acknowledge that she’s a perfectionist, she’s still not… apologetic about it, especially towards herself. Her entire life required her to be constantly pushing to be better; it’s part of who she is. And she’ll keep doing it, even as it sets her on a lonely island distant from others, if only to continue ensuring her & hers are safe & secured. This one’s another that’s hard to break through to.
Cinnamon: is, secretly, the most self-deprecating of all of them. It’s harder to see than most of the other flaws listed so far; insidious and quiet, it leeches into her mindset and affects her relationships to a strong degree. Perhaps the flipside of Pepper’s perfectionism, Cinnamon never feels like she’s good enough. She’s intelligent & observant to a degree that exacerbates this; she knows too well how things should go/what she should have done/better qualities to cultivate, but when she inevitably falls short, rather than a roadblock, it’s an affirmation of her status as ‘not good enough’.
Because of her life growing up, it’s a flaw that’s even harder to pick up on; she doesn’t seem to outwardly second guess herself, and doesn’t even react much to ‘failing’ a task. It would be dangerous to show that sort of thing (she’s more likely to show a bit of irritation if anything, if really stressed - but it’s all inwardly directed). She’s extremely skilled at countless things too, but it’s never enough to her. It triggers depressive spirals and an aloof, laidback attitude that’s something of a protective barrier to keep from drawing attention to what she perceives as her flaws, and makes it harder yet for her to actually be emotionally open with others.
Blade: is what might best be described as… morally unscrupulous. Considering her background, this is perhaps of… little surprise. What most has to go when you get to the point in a famine to consider eating other sentient beings is, well, your scruples. Stark morality has no place in the world hers became; while she wouldn’t call it a weakness, exactly, it only hurt worse the longer time went on. She had to abandon it or risk Falling. It lead her to being a bit more… callous, shall we say, a bit less concerned with just how grayscale ‘morality’ had become, how well you could reason through a lot of terrible things if it meant she and her sister - and, slightly lower but still important - their little community could survive to see another meal.
Nowadays, obviously she’s happy to not have to worry about cannibalism, but it definitely left a deep, unshakeable flaw in her personality. She only believes in the ‘morality’ of ensuring the well-being of her and hers; she tends to shrug off… well, crimes, especially ones that don’t hurt people in particular. She doesn’t understand people who get twisted up about morality, and tends to get a little annoyed, more and more when it comes to ‘playing nice’ especially ‘just for looks’. She’s survived a famine and came out permanently fucked up in something as deeply personal as her ability to use magic, to say nothing of her head wound; she hates pretending, hates niceties for the sake of niceties, and is liable to shut out (or, physically, kick out) anyone who tries to get her to be more accommodating according to their own standards, or more understanding of what she now perceives as wishy-washy moral banalities.
Twist: is, for lack of a better word, deeply rebellious. This one may come as a surprise for some, but like with Blade, it’s deeply rooted in their background and what took them from being “Serif and Vellum” to “Blade and Twist” - some of their backstory is still under spoiler-based protection, but essentially she and Blade got their… worst injuries a significant way into the famine. What happened - and what had been building - effectively disillusioned her in a lot of ways. She refused to bow to anyone’s rule anymore, knowing that terrible sacrifices did need to be made, but believing…. better ones could be made. Their lives were extremely rough beyond just the famine, to put it succinctly…
That rebelliousness really implanted in her; it’s one of her greatest flaws now. She questions leadership to a bit of a fault, and you have to really earn her believing you can make weighty decisions. It’s obstinate, and causes a lot of frustration when it really would be faster to fall in line; it also leads to her having a slightly devil-may-care attitude and needing a lot of convincing (and probably her sister’s direct opinion, who Twist trusts the most & for good reason) to not flagrantly disobey the law (eg, magic acts while out on the town on rare occasion, etc). It’s exhausting for those that do have her best interests at heart, but she’s extremely disinclined to listen to casual opinions; it’s a very good thing that she’s smart and can figure out the why of many things on her own, or she might cause a lot more trouble, however well-intentioned.
Alpha: is perhaps the most overconfident. It’s not without reason; as an AI, she’s obscenely capable & vastly ultra-intelligent, and has the tech access (/can perpetually gain access to it) to ensure she can learn anything needed or get anything needed. While not in bad faith or anything, it’s inevitable that this leads to something of a superman complex; she feels a bit invincible, and while some things take time or are inconvenient at a given moment, she knows it’s largely just a matter of time before she figures it out/overcomes the temporary obstacle.
This leads to, however rarely, a miscalculation in her own abilities - perhaps a less quantitative variable that she didn’t perceive as important enough before something terrible happens. It also leads to weakness on the interpersonal side of things; it can be a bit daunting to be emotionally vulnerable with that kind of confidence… whether for her, or for someone who might consider being emotionally vulnerable with her. As of yet, she hasn’t had to… challenge this overconfidence too much; at most, just better cultivate a bit of reluctant patience. It’s going to cause more troubles as time goes on, however, as she’ll be forced to face that not everything is as easily, or at least with steady work, solvable.
Glyph: is the most ephemeral. Fancy word, I know, but fitting; she’s excessively hard to pin down, both literally in a physical location, and emotionally. She’s transient to an extreme; she only very technically has a home with the Lilytale crew. It isn’t that the girls don’t want her there, they’re totally happy to have her and consider her as part of their motley crew, but Glyph herself gets… restless, if she’s in one spot for long. She tends to at least stop by once a month, sometimes staying for a week, others only passing through a nearby town to meet up for the day. But outside of that she’s constantly drifting from place to place, experience to experience, new sight and open sky to the next.
This… sounds pleasant, but it’s also very much a flaw. It comes down to an inability to plant roots, to feel permanent, to not want to. It’s something she is deeply uncomfortable with thanks to her backstory, and avoids beyond the way the Lilytale crew managed to make her one of their own - and even with them, she hesitates to get close. She has very few close relationships of any kind because of this, and is rarely emotionally open or available. While she’ll show up when she’s needed, she feels unreliable for how brief each appearance of her feels in the long run; for how unlikely it is you’ll get a proper hold of her at your convenience. Sure, it’s not necessary in the slightest to be at someone’s beck and call, but it’s also deeply isolating to never be available in your average day-to-day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oof! Now, all that said… I do want to point out the fun, warmer part - the silver lining, so to speak. All of these flaws… are also a big part of their strengths! Essentially, take their flaws, and pose them in a different light…
Serif: won’t reveal negative feelings, but is a great mediator and leader
Vellum: is blunt, but tells the truth at the most critical points where it’s hard to speak out, & inspires honesty in others
Sapphire: is bullheaded, but is reliable; gets even the hardest tasks done
Amber: is excessively soft hearted, but has the greatest sense of empathy and understanding of others no matter the circumstance
Crimson: quick-tempered, but is the first one to speak/act out against injustice, and to protect her loved ones.
Scarlet: is impatient, but is conversely dedicated and will never let the important things fall by the wayside.
Pepper: is a perfectionist, but is a hard worker that won’t accept failure and will ensure her loved ones get the best of anything she can provide.
Cinnamon: is self-deprecating, but conversely can see the best in everyone, and knows the inherent value that everyone can bring to the table.
Blade: is morally unscrupulous, but also can most clearly see what’s truly important in everyday life and overall; will always see to the well-being of her family/found family.
Twist: is rebellious, but can cut through the red tape and not fall into trusting someone/the status quo to the point of missing red flags; inspires others to question habits/expectations put on them in a healthier way.
Alpha: is overconfident, but also inspires the positive desire to take chances & to have confidence in yourself - all while knowing she has your back.
Glyph: is ephemeral, but brings all kinds of new perspectives to the table and has a way of seeing the world that broadens everyone’s perspective.
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Sticks and Stones
Title: Sticks and Stones
Request/Prompt: 1. The bar thingy to insert my name into your fics is super cool! 2.Would you write something where the reader is feeling some self-doubt because of how their mother emotionally abused them as a child, and Sam encourages them and makes them feel like their reaction to the abuse is valid? I would so grateful if you would, but only if you're comfortable with it. It's a heavy topic, so I 100% understand if you don't want to. Again, please don't feel obligated to complete it! Thank you! -- @meticulouswreck
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: ANGST ! Negative self talk !!! Mentions of abuse !!
Word Count: 1,980-ish
note; first off, sorry this came later than expected! secondly, i’m glad u like the bar thing ! i hope this is what you were looking for. i know this is a sensitive topic so i tried to approach it as carefully as i could, but if i made mistakes or you need me to change anything please message me so i can! x
also, unrelated but i was listening to “Let Me In” by Gabrielle Aplin while i wrote this and i highly recommend the song its A+, 11/10
__________
It was always worse at night.
The echoes of her words, your mother’s words, would creep slyly from the recesses of your mind, warping your thoughts, twisting your inner voice to mirror her own. Old conversations stained your rare happy moments, harsh accusations snapped at your every action. Somewhere along the line, the painful memories had distorted your own thoughts, and you’d adopted her harsh criticism - perhaps that was the worst tragedy of all. She couldn’t torment you anymore, but she’d taught you to torment yourself.
Sam slept beside you, eyelids fluttering with his dreams, his jaw slack, no longer tightened with the stress the daytime always bring. You envied him - the night was his solace, but it was your hell. Even Sam’s arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his gentle breath fanning over your neck, could not erase the doubt that crippled you.
He doesn’t love you. Why would he? You’re not good enough for someone like him. He’s a hero, and you’re… no-one.
You clenched your jaw to restrain your sob, channelling it into heavy breathing as your blurry eyes focussed on the roof. You tried to distract yourself, seeking out cracks in the ceiling, stains on the walls, but your eyes couldn’t erase the words reverberating through your skull. You couldn’t even tell whether they were in her voice or yours.
Sam shifted in his sleep, and you felt your heart stop as you paused with bated breath, watching him cautiously… his lips parted in a quiet snore, and you relaxed. The last thing you needed was to wake him up. He deserved the little rest he got, you weren’t going to be the one to deprive him of that. You were burden enough, in your mind.
Daytime was never this hard - surrounded by Sam, Dean and Cas, enveloped in chatter and laughter and teasing, it was easier to drown out your thoughts. But at nighttime, your thoughts were your only company. The weight of them crushed you, pulling shaky breaths from your lips and tears from your eyes. You needed a distraction.
You rested your hand on Sam’s arm, slung over your stomach and holding you close - a reassurance that you were there, with him, that you hadn’t met the same fate as all too many of his exes. But as he slept, it was easy to crawl out from beneath the youngest Winchester, leaving him snoring peacefully and tangled in sheets.
Releasing a shaky sigh, you grabbed your coat and left the room. You weren’t quite sure where you were headed, you just knew you needed to get out. The more you paced around the bunker, the more stuffy it grew. Her words… your words, crowded your mind and threatened to choke you, to snuff out the little hope you had left. And so, when you saw the Impala’s keys lying on the library desk, your fingers closed around the cold metal without a second thought.
The cold air slammed into you as you left the cosy confines of the bunker. Your cheeks and ears burned raw with the chill, and you dug your hands into your pockets as you walked towards the car, parked along the curb. The tears on your cheeks were beginning to freeze when you managed to unlock the door with clumsy fingers, and you were quick to thrust the keys into the ignition.
The Impala stuttered and shuddered with the cold, but eventually roared to life, the noise settling into a steady purr as you turned on the heater and rubbed your hands together before the small vents. As the blood began to return to your fingertips, you rested them on the cool wheel and prepared to pull away from the curb, only to halt as something tapped lightly on the passenger window.
Your heart was sent racing at the sound, the haste throbbing drowning out your thoughts as your breath caught. Leaning over, you rolled down the window and breathed an initial sigh of relief as you saw it was just Sam, bleary eyed and still in his pyjamas. Even his feet were bare, and you quickly ushered him in so he wouldn’t catch a cold.
“What are you doing?” you asked in a quiet voice, though there was no one around to hear you. Sam’s brow creased in concern.
“I woke up, and you were gone. I couldn’t find you inside, and I got worried, so...”
A small smile twisted your lips. “So you came to rescue me? Pyjamas and all?” you teased, and he huffed a laugh, leaning back against the seat.
“Yeah, well, maybe that part wasn’t quite thought out,” he admitted, and his humorous tone softened as he saw the tear stains on your cheeks and the red rims of your eyes. “Are you okay? What are you doing out here?”
You sighed, shaking your head slightly and leaning against the steering wheel. Sam paused as he sensed your unwillingness to talk. “I know what it feels like, wanting to escape,” he said eventually. “It feels like I spent my whole life running. From hunting, from my dad, and now from whatever big bad each year seems to bring. I used to sneak out and go for drives at night. Pick a direction and just go until I saw the sun. Dean would give me shit for it the next day, but it was nice to leave everything behind. Just for a night.” He glanced over at you pointedly, and you gave him a slight nod.
“Yeah. I get that. I get that alot,” you admitted. And although you hadn’t thought you’d ever allow yourself to share your feelings, you felt you’d explode if you didn’t. Sam had that effect on you - being around him left you feeling so utterly safe that you didn’t feel quite as much like a burden, not during the moment at least. Those feelings came later.
“Okay, I...I’ll talk. But I’m not good with… sharing stuff, so… I’m gonna drive so I have something else to focus on, okay?” You spared him a glance from the corner of your eye, catching sight of his gentle, satisfied smile and his accepting nod.
“Okay,” Sam replied. You released a shaky breath as you put the car into drive and pulled onto the road, headlights illuminating the long, narrow stretch ahead of you. Your knuckles were white on the steering wheel, fingers circling it so tightly that your nails bit into the palms of your hands, leaving small, reddened crescent marks. Your mouth was drier than cotton and you opened your mouth to begin, only to find yourself closing it again.
“Sorry,” you said eventually. “I… I’m not used to- to people actually wanting to listen to me,” you admitted. Your voice was small, barely rising above a whisper, but Sam heard it anyway.
“Why don’t you start with… why you got out of bed at three am?” he suggested lightly. You swallowed and licked your lips before beginning.
“I guess… I guess it mostly comes down to self doubt?” Your voice tilted into a question, and Sam nodded slowly.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked. You released another shaky sigh.
“I… I guess I just don’t ever feel good enough,” you mumbled. “Not a good enough hunter, not good enough for you, not a good enough… person. Just… a burden,” you surmised. Something about saying the words out loud, hearing your broken voice piercing the silence of the car, made your feelings seem all too real. You swallowed thickly.
“Y/N…” Sam whispered, his tone heavy with empathy. “Why would you think that? How could you ever possibly think that?”
You forced a short, sharp laugh that was too loud in the quiet night. “Honestly? My mother,” you got out. “She… that’s what she always told me,” you continued eventually. “I was just a burden on her, good for nothing, never… never enough. And she had no qualms telling me.” You chuckled dryly. “I feel bad even talking about this with you now… she never wanted to know how I felt, not really. Sometimes it felt like she didn’t want to know me at all.”
The gravity of your hurt seemed to crush you as the words left your lips, and you couldn’t bite back your sobs anymore. You pulled over, and as soon as the car was off, Sam was shifting closer to you. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your knee and his large hand found yours, encasing it entirely.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, and slowly, your tears began to subside. When your breathing evened, Sam spoke again. “I don’t want you to ever feel bad sharing how you feel with me,” he told you. “Or if you don’t want to talk to me, you can talk to Dean. Or Cas. Hell, call Jody! But I love you, okay? We all do. You’re the furthest thing from a burden.”
His words made tears spring to your eyes yet again. “I just- I just feel so stupid even feeling like this still! It was- it was so long ago, I was only a kid. I have you guys now, my new family, and I know you love me, I do, I promise. I just… I can’t shake this constant feeling of self doubt. It’s like I can never escape her,” you whispered, and Sam shook his head slightly, pulling you into his arms.
It was hard to hug him in the small confines of the car, especially with his height, but he curled his frame over you protectively as he held you close to his chest. You could smell traces of soap on his skin, the light stubble on his jaw rubbing on your cheeks, his hair tickling your skin. His warmth enveloped you, and you could feel his heart beating steadily beneath his shirt. You’d never felt so safe.
“Don’t feel stupid,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. “These kinds of things… they leave scars. And it hurts, but it’s okay, as long as you keep moving forward. I can’t promise that it will ever stop hurting, but it’s okay to feel it. Your feelings are valid, okay? So long as you remember you have us now, and we’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam’s voice fell to a whisper, and you pulled away, sniffling and nodding.
“Thanks, Sam,” you whispered, and he gave you a sad smile, his large hand cradling your cheek as he gently wiped a tear from your cheek. You could feel the calluses on his skin, a result of years of hunting. And though you knew these hands had ended many a monster, and held so much strength, he touched you with such tenderness, such… reverence... And you knew his words rang true. This man would be there for you, always. Through hell and highwater, he would never leave your side unless you ordered him away.
“Well… we should probably get the car back home before Dean finds out we stole it,” Sam said teasingly, and you found yourself giggling and nodding despite yourself.
“Yeah, he’ll kill us,” you agreed. Sam’s fingertips lingered on your cheek a moment longer, running gently along your cheekbone, tracing your lips… and slowly, his mouth brushed over yours. The kiss wasn’t as intense and passionate as ones you had shared before - no, this was soft and sweet and slow. It rang of a promise, and warmed the blood in your veins as goosebumps rose on your skin. He left you breathless when you pulled away, but instead of sending your head spinning, it finally allowed your thoughts to settle.
“You okay?” Sam checked when you didn’t speak. A slow, shy smile spread across your face.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
And for the first time in a long while, you meant it.
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Day 4ish
So, today is one of those positive days! I’m super excited because I made it through the day without feeling like I’m going through an absolute mental breakdown! No tears were shed today, which for me is a huge success (it’s the little things), I left the house in the first thing I put on, I posted a picture on social media with no hesitation! WOW! I feel like a whole new woman, crazy how 1 good day can conquer all, it’s an amazing feeling! I’m blabbering but these days to me are so exciting! I wanted my post today to fill in on what the heck my mindset is! 2017-2019 were some of the roughest years I’ve endured yet, a lot of drama, heart ache, confusion, losing myself in a pit of depression. I’ve been a little lost puppy dog for a few years now, at the end of last year I hit the lowest I’ve ever been. I felt as if I had nothing, I was nothing, I was going no where and there was really no point to anything I was trying. I was in a terrible mindset and kind of just skating by life. I was terrified of absolutely everything, too scared of the world to pursue anything I’m passionate about, too terrified of people to build on my group of 3 friends I surround myself with. I was realizing what a toxic person I had become, to my friends, my family, myself especially. I was so draining, so negative. I put on a smiling face, but my mind was sucking energy from anything it could because I had none to feed it. A week into 2020, I decided I didn’t want to be that person anymore, I didn’t want to be afraid, I didn’t want to be nothing, I didn’t want to be draining! I took the fact that I had hit rock bottom, feeling like nothing, to completely redefine myself. Some times its hard to get out of the mind set of negativity, okay, not sometimes, ALL THE TIME. Negativity is such an overwhelming thing, it takes all the energy from you except the energy to feed into the negativity. It’s taken soo much to understand myself, my mind and this energy, so don’t think this is all just happening. This year I finally decided to just stop caring! I’m focusing on the mindset that nothing lasts forever, including me. If I try and I fail how many of my failures will be remembered in 100 years. Sure, I feel embarrassed, terrified and anxious 98% of the time but I have been feeling soo fulfilled! Yes, I’m still terrified of everything I’m facing but I’m walking with the mindset of at least I’m finally just conquering it! It’s so easy for us to hide away in a shell, to never face anything that scares us, to never try new because were so used to the old we figure it’ll be pointless. But lets be honest its never too late to start trying something new. You’re never too old to continue and finish you’re education, you’re not too old to pursue a dream you’ve wanted for so long, it’s never to late to restart your life! It’s so easy to get caught up in a timeline mentality, counting out the years it’ll take you to complete something and telling yourself you’ll finish too late, its pointless to start now. I’m here to reassure you it’s not! I’m only 22 years old, I find myself doing that exact thing! I’m not in a relationship, I kept telling myself it’s getting too late to get married, most of my friends are in relationships or getting engaged by now. I’ve only had ONE serious boyfriend.... A lot of my friends are having babies, at 22 I kept telling myself, it’s getting too late, I wanted my first baby at 25 and now I don’t have a man I have no chance of that happening. I’m 22 and don’t have a degree, I kept telling myself it’s getting too late to finish a 4 year degree, I’m even more screwed if I wanted to go on and do graduate school of any sort, I won’t finish school till I’m over 30! I realized I was holding myself to impossible standards that fit MY life. I was comparing my timeline to those on my actual Facebook timeline. I wanted there lives and that’s what I was trying to live by! That’s a culture that is way too easy to get sucked into! Going through this journey has made me so aware of what I want, what I’m doing and where I wanted to go. I post on my social media but I realized I needed to stop scrolling, I needed to stop reading, I needed to separate myself from that world. I needed to discover myself, I wasn’t doing that by constantly judging or wanting other peoples lives! Things I’m conquering this year are figuring out my journey, living my life the exact way I want too, living without stopping myself and being the best version of me. Taking all of that with an understanding of I’m going to fail, I’m going to have backtracking days, I’m going to have lazy days, but overcoming that with pushing forward and continuing to grow and learn! I hope you can take my journey with an understanding of failing, feeling self conscious and being scared is fine, but pushing through, enjoying life, trying new journeys and overcoming is the best part about it all! I hope you can find your strength and your fearlessness to begin the journey you want!
List of things I’ve wanted to do for years, haven’t but will try to accomplish this year (I’m sure this list will grow);
- Blogging my life openly *
-Modeling professionally
- Starting a degree in a field I’m passionate about
- Going on more adventures alone
- Going to new places and more adventures without cancelling
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Hi Iva! I’d love to request a matchup from you. Congrats on starting a blog, it’s always impressive to see others maintain a strong work ethic! One thing: it may not affect the results since I COULD be matched with a student anyway, but I’d like to expand the potential matches from just the students to also include the other women in the game like Manuela, Rhea, Catherine, etc! Also I hope this all isn’t too much pleaaase let me know if it is!
General stuff about me! I’m a straight male, an INFP, and about 6'3". Raphael sized vertically, but I’m like. Lorenz or Sylvain in build. I’m quite good at traditional art but it’s really just a hobby. I enjoy exercising, writing (I used to run blogs here in the past), reading, swimming, board games, and I’m open to trying new things for those closest to me!
Some of my Strengths are really great! I have literally never had any complaints about my performance at any job I’ve worked even on the days I felt like crap. I’m a trooper with endurance but to be blunt I don’t even KNOW where my motivation comes from since I haven’t felt true drive in years. I'td be nice if I were more passionate than I am about things like formal education and earning money… but I. Love. KIDS! And they find it easy to interact with me, too! Okay over multiple occasions and experiences being out with friends and family and even work I’ve had kids hug me, tell me about themselves and their lives, chase me down and grab my leg while I walk, and separate from their friends just to talk to me. I swear I must radiate Big Brother Energy! Or maybe even fatherly vibes… I’m very warm to those I care for. Exceptionally so, even! The guys I’m friends with have called me super soft since I’m especially open and I don’t have a problem hugging them or telling them that I really care about them! When it comes to love, I get seriously doe-eyed over my girl. She takes special priority in my life. A relationship is not a casual thing to be taken lightly imo. I have a natural talent for gift giving and I’m slick with my words too. My self awareness is high so I have a talent for reading others’ limits and I make sure to avoid making others uncomfortable with jokes I might make. I’m a natural tease with a sarcastic, dry wit. Patience and consideration with people who have suffered through traumas is important to me. I don’t wanna write TOO TOO much so I’ll just list some stuff quickly: It’s very difficult to scare me, I’m an A-1 listener and advice giver, I stay calm in situations that’d make others lose face, I’m well mannered while being plenty vulgar in a good balance, I stand up for myself and others, and I’m happy that I’m supportive to my loved ones!
I’ve got plenty of Flaws, too. I haven’t fully realized this until recently but I’m very much anti-social. I sat alone for my whole junior year of high school. I truly enjoy doing things by myself such as going to restaurants, watching movies, and going shopping. It’d be nice to have my love to do those things with but I meet with friends about 2-4 times a month and besides that I’m working or I’m home. Meeting new people doesn’t excite me; I NEED my circle tight and small. This next thing has been a truly double edged sword for me but this is how I am and it ties into my honesty; I will not apologize for something I don’t feel remorse for, even if I’ve accidentally hurt someone with my words. The key there being if I DON’T feel remorse. If I empathize with another’s standpoint and feel that an apology is due then I’ll do so genuinely! But the thing is, I won’t say anything if it isn’t genuine, and if the simple act of being myself creates conflict with someone then I feel no need to say sorry even when under pressure by others! Example: If someone says they love me and I don’t love them, I won’t say it back. This rarely happens since tbh I have a big heart but when my patience is depleted I’ll give up on people. I hate feeling like I need to walk on eggshells! I want to have the freedom to be me at all times so having to alter myself for interactions with people I don’t click with is a huge downer that I avoid like the plague. Some people lash out on or rely on others but when I’m overcome with negative emotions I stonewall and isolate myself. I’m also stiff and awkward when it comes to physical affection with the opposite sex but I think that’ll just take some breaking in to overcome. No heart popping anxiety, just gotta adjust gradually. Literally touch starved. I’m not good at being self motivated. Money doesn’t excite me so when I work I consider that what I do is of value to the person I’m serving and that serves as my motivation. Some of these things aren’t 100% flaws as opposed to personality traits but what makes me think of them as flaws is the way they affect interpersonal relationships. Oh and chronic depression babyyyyyyy!! I’m still kickin’ for now though.
Overall I believe that I’m a man of high highs and low lows. At the risk of sounding cringey, there’s a lot of darkness and a lot of light within me. An old friend once compared me to a cinammon pretzel; soft and hard in all the right places, a little twisted, but super sweet… and that has always stuck with me cause it really touched me.
Hi! Thank you so much for your kind words and for your request! I took into account all the ladies, ultimately though after much thought I decided to pair you with…
Hilda Valentine Goneril!!!
-I had a bit of trouble picking someone for you, but I think you’d go great along with Hilda. While you are very hard-working, Hilda is well… not. What really caught my eye was what you mentioned about that despite feeling not very passionate about what you do, you are still very disciplined in your work, therefore I think you could sort of teach this to Hilda, teach her how to work hard even if it’s something you aren’t really motivated to work hard for, especially since you share a key motivator, helping others. Sure she probably won’t turn into a diligent worker overnight, but over time you might rub off on her quite a bit (as she’d probably really dislike it if you tried to force it on her).
And while Hilda isn’t normally motivated to do most things, like I just mentioned she does tend to be really driven when it comes to helping others who have trouble doing something themselves, like Marianne who had trouble cleaning up the library due to her clumsiness, or Raphael who wanted to give his sister something cute. She’s also driven when she knows someone will be or sees someone happy due to her efforts. For this reason, I think working with children could certainly prove to be a good outlet for her. While she isn’t shown interact with kids much, she does seem to have some sort of deeper understanding of them, as shown when she was helping Seteth with his fables. She also loves anything cute, and kids are cute lol. Also, let’s face it, Hilda is a bit of a princess. That’s why, if Hilda were to have a partner, she’d most likely want to have to be someone who is really loving with her and is not afraid to show her or the world that (even if it isn’t with physical affection). You also both have a bit of a silver tongue and love to tease. If there is anyone who could get Hilda or challenge her, it’d be someone who can be as witty and playful as she can. With Hilda, I think your anti-social ness could be an obstacle and an advantage at the same time. Hilda is definitely more extroverted, she is very sociable and charismatic and is often seen hanging out around people. That being said she strikes me as someone who only really has a few close good friends, people who she is truly honest with, therefore I feel like when spending time with people she really cares about it’s easier to do it in a private manner (if that makes sense). Lastly, one of the most important points, I think, is that you can also easily read people, which is handy because, as much as Hilda likes to talk, she is quite manipulative and insincere when she wants things her way. Only a few can really tell what she really feels and what she doesn’t at times (aka Claude). If someone saw through all of her excuses and lies, she’d be forced to be more honest, and you’d realize that her intention is not to hurt or play with people, but to not disappoint them. Even if you and Hilda might differ when it comes to lying to please others, the fact that you are always looking to be yourself and won’t let anyone change who you are, like her, is exactly the type of spiritual soulmate that Hilda needs, someone who is able to understand her desire to live freely and follow whatever her heart desires, without the expectations of people always looming over her.
Headcannons:
When Hilda first meets you, noticing how nice you are and how much of a hard worker you can be, she can’t help but ask favors of you.
You quickly catch on to her shenanigans, but sensing something underneath of it all, decide to help her.
She’s quickly moved by your efforts though, as she comes to know that even if you might not be personally fulfilled, helping others is always motivation enough for you to work hard.
If you were to introduce her to some kids, Hilda may feel awkward around them at first, as she might not know how to initially handle them, but soon after you’ll realize she’s a NATURAL.
She always makes the kids feel special and invincible after showering them with compliments, she’ll make jewelry for them, and tell them stories of her amazing brother.
She’d be like that cool older sister everyone wishes they had.
She finds it super cute how unapologetically soft you are with your guy friends, never going out of your way to pretend you aren’t.
She absolutely loves being the center of your world, she knows how doe-eyed you get over her and she can’t help but tease you about it at times.
In turn, she does admittedly get really flustered once you suddenly turn the tables and you start being all slick and smooth.
You know no one else in the world is going to appreciate your talent at gift-giving like Hilda is.
You two spend half of the time teasing each other so whenever you hang out around other people they can’t help but feel like there’s some, ahem, sexual tension in the air.
*Also, the PDA doesn’t help fhdjlhfghgk.
*Like at first both of you were wondering who was gonna make the first move (most likely it was Hilda though cause gurl can’t handle herself), but after that, it turns into low-key a competition, who gets to steal the most kisses, who gives the most surprise hugs, who can make the other one get flustered first, which is always pretty damn hard cause you can both be touchy-feely as hell.
*Even if you might do your own things at times when you are together you are basically inseparable, those hands aren’t letting go anytime soon.
*Literally, everyone has diabetes now because of you guys (Claude is like “Hilda we are having a meeting can you sit in a chair instead of your boyfriend’s lap-”)
Hilda isn’t someone to force others to do things they don’t want to do, so she won’t ever force you to hang out with others if you don’t want to.
Speaking of which, since you two are always following the beat of your own drums, it would be totally normal in your relationship for each of you to do your own things. You’d always have your own personal space and you’d never feel tied down by the other.
She respects your personal space a lot, especially when she knows you aren’t feeling your best and/or are dealing with your depression.
She is truly always there to comfort you if you need her though.
Same goes for your honesty, even if she might not follow in your example, she won’t ever reprimand you for it or encourage you to lie.
You’ll never feel the need to be someone other than yourselves with each other, free but together.
Other matches: Annette Fantine Dominic, Shamir Nevrand
Hope you enjoyed the matchup! If you feel like you weren’t portrayed correctly/I misinterpreted your information let me know and I’ll make the corrections!
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[Rewrite] The 6 Months Peter Parker was Dead Chapter 1
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Summary; Peter is forced to fake his own death to save the lives of his fathers, as well as his boyfriend Wade and the rest of the Avengers. Now living as his secret identity of Spider-Man, he must cope with the pain he's causing his friends and family, while adjusting to the lonely life of a full-time hero. It's not easy when his decision keeps finding ways to haunt him, and it seems his identity is even harder to hide when he's 'dead.'
“Peter, please. Just look at me. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to hurt Tony, or Steve, or anyone else that cares about you. You’re so young.”
Bruce’s pleading was wasted breath. His uncle’s voice was distant, barely audible over the pounding of blood in his ears. Peter’s mind throbbed with unease. The burning embers kissing the windows and door frame were pulsing brighter than the rest of the world, and when he tore his gaze down to his arms he saw the crimson burning his skin and up the expanse of his shoulder. Fire Trucks blared deafeningly close, yet he didn’t so much as wince. Men and women were screaming at the rescue teams to help. It all sounded so far away. When he looked up at the fire consuming the burnt mansion, dripping with hunger and malintent, the blistering heat scorched his body. Sweat gathered on the edges of his hairline, and for a moment he felt he was breathing in pure charcoal and ash. His logical mind, though hardly present, told him this was a terrible decision, and he should stay clear of the collapsing building. He felt a hand firmly grasp onto his shoulder, before it drug his limp form around to face Bruce. Peter caught sight of calm eyes staring back down at him, though the usual composure of the scientist before him had broken. Blood dripped steadily down his cheeks, and Peter was aware of wires of a bomb strapped to his uncle’s chest creeping up from under his shirt. They served as a grim reminder of the consequences of his actions, if he chose not to go through with the plan being forced onto him.
The splintering crash of another room caving in on itself pulled him from his mystified haze. His senses slowly started to return, the deluded shrieking now hitting him in stereo. Glancing back at the horrifying scene, the mansion was standing on its final legs. His window of opportunity was running short. There was a tunnel in the basement open only for so long, and Peter would lose his chance to disappear into it if he didn’t make quick decisions.
A man howled for help from the second story. Peter wasn’t sure if he was a pawn placed there by Harry, or if he was an actual tenant of the home that had been ambushed with his arson. Either way, the fire truck's ladder wasn’t operating, and the man had no method of escaping. Peter’s urge to rescue him was making his stomach churn in agony. He knew Harry was watching, and any aberration from the scheme would result in negative outcomes for everyone involved.
“Don’t think about me for a second.” Bruce’s voice was soothing, and much closer to Peter this time, his hands desperately anchoring him in place to keep him from making a move towards the flame-engulfed house. “Think about yourself. It would be better for me to die than you. Remember your fathers. Remember New York. All the people that love and depend on you. The people that would be devastated.”
Who? The thought made Peter’s throat constrict. He couldn’t deny Tony and Steve would be left in shock- and childless- but thinking logically, both of his previous sets of parents and the one girl he’d ever loved were already dead. Superheroes lost people all the time. In the overall scheme of things, did his life really matter…?
But Bruce. Uncle Bruce was someone Peter had vowed to protect. He glanced shortly up at his worn face, the abuse he’d been dealt taking form in dark bruises on his jaw and a fractured nose. The Green Goblin had been the mastermind behind this all.
Harry Osborn had made his appearance at the science convention Bruce and Peter had gone to that afternoon. Peter had originally been invited by Tony, but his Dad hadn’t been up to attending the event and sent Bruce in his place. The look of disbelief on his Uncle’s face when Peter had shot out a web to defend them was cemented in his mind. Peter fought hard. He hadn’t won. Harry had baited them out of the convention center to a parking garage rigged with electric traps, and he’d stupidly ignored his spidey-senses until it was too late. Static shot through the room, currents cutting through his body until he was debilitated and had passed out. The horror he felt waking up to Bruce, beaten, bloodied, and covered with explosives, had felt grimly similar to watching Gwen fall to her death 2 years ago. He couldn’t go through that again. He couldn’t watch another person in his life die because of his double-life.
Windows shattered behind them, glass shards dropping to the sidewalk and causing onlookers to take steps further back to avoid the spray. Peter was pushed into Bruce from the momentum of the crowd, though Bruce wound his arms tightly around him. Peter could feel his unwillingness to let go. He wished he could stay that way with him, even if just for a minute longer. He may have resolved himself to his death, but that didn’t make the fear any less harsh.
“I know you think it’s your only option. But Peter, you have so much more to live for besides just being Spider-Man. You can’t lose your family. You can’t lose Wade.”
Wade. He would be devastated. He and Peter had agreed they would end each other’s lives when it came down to it, because neither wanted to survive alone. His promise ring was heavy on his finger. Peter slowly reached down and slipped it off with trembling hands, pressing it tightly into Bruce’s palm. “Keep it for me.” Peter’s voice ruptured through his chest, searing his lungs. His body ached, like he would have a break down any moment. However, he didn’t feel the immediate need to cry. He felt... numb.
Harry hated Peter. He didn’t have to scream it at him a thousand times to get the point across. He could see it in the spiteful eyes of his ex-best friend. He could see how Peter had broken him with his refusal to be the experimental drug for Norman. He had promised to do what he could to help the man he’d grown up with, but Norman had taken matters into his own hands and was too far gone for Peter to save him in the end. And then there was the night Norman had killed himself in a horrible accident, impaling himself on his glider when he had tried to take out Spider-Man. This fueled Harry’s inexplicably strong animosity, and Peter had no way to convince him that he hadn’t caused the loss of his father. In his eyes, while he knew it was horrible mistakes leading up to this, he accepted the blame for ruining his friend.
“You don’t deserve your dads.”
Peter had been electrocuted to the point he felt the shaking wouldn’t stop, sweat dripped down his face, and burn marks charred his arms and legs. He was in no shape to attempt an escape from the Goblin, especially with Bruce covered in explosives and unable to mutate to the Hulk. He wouldn’t risk his life in a gamble.
“Little Spidey wants to take away my father, my future, and still wants to pretend he’s the good guy! All we wanted was your goddamn blood !”
“Harry, this isn’t you.” Peter had seen Harry’s darkest days - through every disagreement with his family. Yet, despite the pressure of his Dad and the fate that awaited him, his fire had never burned out. Now, it seemed only black voids filled his eyes. “Let me help you. I-I promise, I’ll do everything I can-”
“No, that offer has expired. Sadly enough for you!” Another bolt coursed through his spine and spread down to his fingertips. Peter collapsed to his side on the floor, his body spasming excruciatingly as he tried to catch his breath and his heart threatened to give out. “You’re on my terms now. And that is somewhere you don’t want to be.”
Harry had given him an ultimatum. He cackled sadistically from behind his deranged mask, hovering over Peter’s broken frame on the floor still his twitching from another round of electrocution. “I won’t kill you. I want you to kill yourself. Peter Parker will die from this world either way.”
Peter was too disoriented to respond, and trying to pick himself up off the floor only left him dazed and in a heap once more. His limbs seemed to stop obeying him entirely.
“So I have a choice for you, Spider-Man.” A single, deformed finger blinded him, his brain engorged with electric sparks and hardly able to take in the details of it wavering in his eyes. “I’ll blow Banner’s brains out like a firework , reveal your identity to the world, and just as you return to normal life with Dear old Dad’s and your family of super-freaks, I’ll come for you. You won’t know where I am. But I’ll take a person from your life one by one, rip them to shreds and send you videos to commemorate, until you end your pathetic existence yourself.”
“Don’t listen, Peter.” Bruce croaked, though his prompting didn’t eliminate the weight of the Harry’s threats.
“Two.” Another green finger dug into Peter’s forehead, pushing sharply at his temples to make his neck arched painfully back. “You will leave your life as Peter Parker, and your Dads will be childless. You are a part of the Avenger’s now, aren’t you? Do you have fun being Spider-Man? Running around pretending not to sleep under the same roof? Is it easy to lie to them? I hope so, because Spider-Man is all you’ll ever be. You’ll kill yourself- or at least, they’ll think you’re dead- on television so everyone can see just how weak and pathetic you truly are. And you’ll suffer each day watching them in pain, knowing they couldn’t save you. Your Hulk will live. So long as you trust him to keep a secret.” He paused, tauntingly, and withdrew his fingers from the teen’s forehead. Peter stared in disbelief at the floor in front of him, a shuddering taking over his form. He couldn’t do that to Steve and Tony, or the rest of his family. Either choice was a terrible punishment for them; they’d lose a friend, a team member, and suffer the publicity of Peter’s identity reveal and the murders that followed; or they’d lose their only son, while he played observer to the aftermath right under their noses.
“Don’t make me wait all day, Spider-Man, the choice is clear. Make your decision by the count of three, or I’ll set off my boom-toys and kill Banner now.”
Before Harry had even reached 2, Peter’s voice shot out in utter panic. “I’ll do the second one! I’ll pretend to die!”
Peter could see the heartbreak on Bruce’s face. He knew he was selfish. He knew he couldn’t do this to the people he held most dear, but he couldn’t risk lives that weren’t his. He couldn’t put people in danger who had never agreed to be in harm’s way in the first place.
“Be careful. Get the bombs off as soon as possible.” Peter brushed away Bruce’s arms from his body, taking a few steps backwards. Worry spiked in Bruce’s eyes, but Peter had his back facing him before he could say another word. He ducked under the police tape at the front lines. A fireman squawked to his right and made to grab him,, but Peter was quicker and evaded his grasp. He sprinted towards the home before anyone had really noticed he’d broken through, but when they had, there was an outcry of concern from the crowd. His steps tapered off at the front door and he slowed to a stop. The furniture and walls just inside the doors were blackened from the flames, sweltering smoke pouring through the frame. He could smell the petrol that had fed the fire, which was now spilling down the stairs at a rapid pace. He had a minute, maybe less, before the entire front room would be consumed by the blaze. Sweat collected on the arch of his eyebrows, and for a moment he was left petrified on the porch. There were civilians screaming at him to stop, and training his ears, Peter knew one of the first responders was dashing towards where he stood, his footsteps slamming against the asphalt. Despite the dread of entering the tomb that stretched in front of him, he couldn’t let himself get stopped. If he were interrupted by an officer he wouldn’t get a second chance to finish what he had started. His eyes locked onto the cameraman from their local news gawking at him from behind police lines, and before concerned bystanders could get in his way, he had ducked in the doorway and out of sight from the public.
Before he had even taken 5 steps away from the door, an explosion sounded behind him, nearly catapulting Peter into a half-destroyed piano from the force. Peter threw arms over his head as dust and debris sprayed his way, varnishing his face and hair with ashes. The side of the house closest to the stairs had begun collapsing, beams creaking before plunging through the weakened ceiling and splintering against the ground. He navigated his way towards the kitchen, the furthest point in the house from the source of the fire, purposefully orchestrated by Harry. He knew he was watching him, executing perfect timing as to prevent Peter’s plan from getting hindered. This also meant Peter was given no chance to go back on his word, once it was set into motion. His way out had been barraged chunks of burnt wood and drywall, and there was only one escape point remaining; the basement.
The roof groaned with strain, and the snapping of wood caught Peter’s attention. A tingle of warning ran up his spine, and his arms straightened above him on instinct to catch a burning beam that was hurtling down towards him. It easily outweighed him and was painted black with fire. The flames scorched the skin on his hands, but his adrenaline-induced high distracted him from the pain. He managed to throw it aside back towards the living room, side-stepping the cavern above him in case another piece of the frame decided to give out. He sucked in a sharp breath to look down at his palms, bits of the skin burned away to reveal pink and bloodied skin, but there wasn’t much to do about it now. The sooner he got out of this house, the less trauma he’d have to worry about later.
He trudged his way down the staircase that led to the under structure, the air growing thinner and easier to breathe. Peter hitched his backpack off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, yanking out his suit. Despite the rush he was in, he faltered when he looked at the fabric, as if it was his first time seeing it. He didn’t feel like he was in a hurry this time to don the costume. After today, it would serve as his prison sentence. He wasn’t able to take it off and return to his life as a student, son, and Daily Bugle employee. Peter Parker, in this reality, was dead.
He tore off his current clothing, dropping it to the ground beside him. It was difficult to pull the spandex over his damp skin, but he eventually was zipping it and fixing his mask in place. Feeling his breathing obstructed by the suit was what finally made it all seem real. He wouldn’t be returning that night from his trip with Bruce to a warm bed and a kiss on the forehead from Steve. He wouldn’t spend his night listening to Tony trying to prove why it was a pointless convention made for less competent scientists to prove their theoretical intellect. There’d be no family movie night like every Saturday, and Natasha wouldn’t tease him and Wade endlessly when Wade snuck in once Tony and Steve went to bed. He wouldn’t go out for his nightly patrol, and he’d never again return at an unholy hour to rush to hide his new bruises with concealer and long-sleeve shirts.
Peter was really losing his entire life.
He twisted to locate the crudely carved tunnel leading out of the basement and up towards the back yard. Harry had told him it would be there as his means of escape, and it seemed just barely big enough for him to crawl through. With a faltering confidence he shoved his backpack in far enough to fit his body, then grabbed hold of the walls of the dirt path to pull himself in as well. His toes poked around for a growth in the dirt, and when he found it, he gave it a light tap and withdrew his foot. A weak bomb went off and the end of the tunnel collapsed, the light fading out of the space in seconds. Harry hadn’t been lying about the detonator to prevent his route from being found. He really had planned this revenge meticulously. Peter grabbed hold of his backpack and pushed it up further along the steep angle, using his feet to climb up after it.
Trapped in utter darkness in a tunnel that led Peter to god-knows-where, he crawled towards the beginning of a new kind of hell he wasn’t emotionally prepared to face.
--
“Now being called a Reckless Hero; How the adopted son of Tony Stark lost his life in an attempt to save politician Jamison Morre last Tuesday when he was trapped on the fourth floor of his burning home. The Manhattan Arson and Explosives team has just concluded their investigation on the case of a house-fire that left two dead earlier this week. Firefighters received the call about this massive fire at about 4:30 PM. When they arrived on the scene they discovered Morre was still inside the home, unable to escape his bedroom before the fire had caused the stairs to collapse. 20 Year old Peter Parker-Stark was spending the day with a family friend when the young man supposedly passed by the scene and heard the cries of the homeowner as he yelled for help. Despite all of the first-responders best efforts, they were not able to extend their ladder due to faulty equipment. It was then Stark decided to take matters into his own hands. He ran into the half-demolished building to try to reach him, but a gas line exploded just as he entered. Police say they found a body that was badly burned and crushed under the rubble, but it had been concluded to belong to Parker-Stark. We talked to the fire chief that was on the scene at the time.”
“It was an unfortunate incident that my men were not prepared to deal with. Our truck ladder wouldn’t extend, and we couldn’t reach the man through his window. The kid ran past us and it took too long for any of us to realize he had gotten through. It’s something sad that we have to deal with when heroes like Spider-Man and Captain America run around and try to save people all the time. Normal people want to be heroes, too. All of our trucks are being tested to be sure this won’t happen again, and the parts that failed are being looked into.”
“We’ve received no comment from Tony Stark on the incident. More details to come as they’re uncovered.”
The TV clicked off, the screen shutting down to black, and Peter was once more basked in the silence of his empty apartment. He drew his legs up to his chest, resting languidly against the arm of his couch. After a couple of nights taking refuge under the bleachers of his old high school, Bruce had gotten him settled into a rented furnished studio apartment, at least for the time being until he figured out the next steps he would take. It had been surprisingly difficult adjusting to life on his own. Despite his roots of living primarily with Aunt May and Uncle Ben in an aged, single-family home, he had grown quite accustomed to life in Stark Industries and the luxuries that came along with it. Of course he was also never completely alone in the tower. Even when his 5-or-so family members were away on a mission, he still had Jarvis, who was decent company. But now he was left isolated on the other side of town.
Bruce hadn’t come to visit Peter yet. At least not when he’d been home. He’d left a new phone, clothes from his room, his laptop, his promise ring, and cash in a box on his counter while Peter was out. He also texted him updates about upcoming Avenger’s meetings, though all official activity had been postponed until further notice. Peter hadn’t heard anything about Steve and Tony’s state yet, though he figured that was for the better.
The depression of losing his family had hit him quite hard. Rather than crying to mourn his losses, he just felt... empty. His life had been shattered apart by the man he used to consider his best friend, his relationship had been ripped prematurely away, and he was left a captive to his superhero persona. He hadn’t brought himself to move from the couch since he’d moved in, much less go out for patrols. Besides, the temptation to burst into his old home and reveal that he had never really died and beg for forgiveness for lying to them would overwhelm him. He wasn’t strong enough for it yet.
On his new phone he navigated to the social media sites his family had kept up for him, all now switched to a remembrance page. Several people from highschool and college that had barely even known his name when he was ‘alive’ had posted tribute statuses. Even his professors had reached out about the unfortunate death of their student. The name that stood out most viciously on the page was Flash. He was, according to his post, torn-up by Peter’s death, wishing he had been given the chance to apologize for his misbehavior all those years ago towards Peter. The fact that his death may have actually done good for a person made him want to laugh at the sour irony.
There was still the intrusive thought that overall this may be a benefit to those he’d left behind. After all, how many of his family members had he seen murdered, or close to it, because of his genetics and powers? It was hard to ignore the fears when they were the only thing keeping you company during the day.
Peter’s police scanner buzzed on low volume next to him on the cushions, and the words ‘Masked Red Man’ and ‘Shooting.’ immediately caught his attention. Wide-eyed, his fingers fumbled to turn it up.
“ 612 we’re requesting response cars because we have squads tied up with this shooting. Unable to move inside. 5 suspects have been spotted with firearms, and approximately 24 people are still inside the mall. Masked man is now out of sight and has appeared to have entered through the fire exit. Shots have been fired. Where did this guy go? Were those swords?”
Apparently there was a hostage situation in the mall, and Wade was getting himself involved. The fact had Peter on his feet in a second. Wade had been kill-free for a year and half since joining up with the Avenger’s alongside Spider-Man, and had been very proud of that fact. Peter was really hoping that streak hadn’t been broken. No, he had to be sure Wade wasn’t going to hurt anyone. His chest ached as he pulled himself from the couch and tumbled over to his suit that laid out on his counter, holding it up before him.
No more moping. He was going to have to face this head on. He was doing this to protect those he loved, and he couldn’t give up on saving the city and the people in it just because he was grieving. So he pulled the zipper open and ripped off his shirt, trying not to let his mind linger on the anxiety of seeing Wade again.
--
Spider-Man landed stealthily on the glass roof of the Manhattan mall, but he still heard an eruption in the crowd gathered to watch the scene, supposedly noticing him. He braced his fingertips against the slippery panes and crawled silently, eyes scanning inside for where the hostages were. He’d heard from the report that the shooters had been spotted near the electronics store on the second floor through a window. As promised, when he reached that area, he saw a man standing with a loaded gun in the center of a broken escalator, with a group of a dozen people kneeling behind him. There were bound to be more shooters in another section, which Peter had to be careful not to alert, as to not risk any of the individuals’ lives.
He carefully gripped onto and pulled one of the glass panels up as warm air rushed out at him, calculating his strategy. Yelling below him indicated someone was on the phone, likely with the police, in one of the hidden stores. The hostages seemed to all be alive at least, though Peter was sad to know there had already been at least one casualty. He picked the angle at which he could quickly web the gun with one hand and grab the gunner with the other, which would hopefully be silent enough that he could then land in front of the hostages and body-block them until he’d taken out the three other gunman.
Peter adjusted so that he’d have room to jump down once he’d webbed the man, extended his wrist, and braced himself to ambush his target.
“Who the fuck is that?!”
The faint sound of boots hitting tile drew his attention to a maintenance hallway. His vision locked in on a man making his way towards the gunmen with a frightening ambiance, shrouded by the crimson emergency lights flashing rhythmically. His katanas were dragging on the ground, sparks leaping off the tips , and nothing about this man seemed friendly or hopeful like Peter had come to know him. His heart swelled in his chest upon seeing the familiar suit, a sharp pain forming in the back of his throat. Wade. His presence brought in an instant happiness that threw him completely off guard, though the grief overshadowed it in a moment when he’d realized that it meant nothing. Wade had no idea who lied behind the mask. They were still stuck miles apart.
“Stop walking towards me or I’ll kill one of the kids!” Peter was torn back to the situation at hand. His eyes darted to look for the other gunmen, and he could see the barrels of their machine guns poking out of the door of one of the stores. He counted 3 present at the scene, which meant one was still missing.
Deadpool’s heavy steps didn’t falter at the threat, and Peter’s ears picked up on the clicking of a gun safety. It was time to make his move.
A child screamed when Peter descended down on them, which distracted the man aiming at Wade long enough that his blades had the chance to scrape together. Peter turned in horror, expecting a maimed body lying on the floor, though he was met with the sight of a halved gun and the man bleeding from his nose after taking a hilt to the face. Thank God. The criminal was injured, but alive.
The whizzing of a bullet entered his ears and he instinctively side-stepped it, and several other shots. His wrists darted out, web fibers solidifying and sticking onto the strap of one of the rifles. He ripped it out of the hands of the gunman, pulling the magazine out and discarding it before the body clattered to the floor. Peter shot another two webs at the man’s arms and drug him forward, digging the heel of his foot into his forehead to disorient him. Deadpool was beside him without hesitation, sliding under a bullet’s path and yanking the shooter’s feet out from under him. Peter noted that Deadpool was dully silent compared to his normal banter and… Peter would give anything to hear just a hint of laughter in his voice. Peter turned his head at the hostages, pointing towards the exits. “Go to the police. You should be safe.” He said, calmly, to keep them from panicking and trampling one another. His voice disguiser he’d invested into when he’d gotten invited to the Avenger’s buzzed softly in his mask, distorting his voice deeper and leaving it unrecognizable.
Peter cemented two of the criminals to the floor. He used his knee to anchor another, wrapping web around his wrists to subdue him, and Deadpool seemed to be taking care of the other gunmen. His heart rate had picked up to a rapid pounding due to the close proximity of Wade, and he struggled to find something to say. There was an uncomfortable tension draping them, and Peter knew he should break the silence. He straightened up ever so gradually, studying Wade’s mask, though the mercenary seemed to notice and refused to return his gaze. His body language echoed the tenseness he seemed to feel, his quivering hands using more force than necessary to rip at the shirt fabric of the knocked out man to tie his hands. Peter wanted to hug him. It hurt so terribly to be this close, to see him looking so defeated, but unable to do anything about the fact. Nothing else felt as important in that moment as comforting Wade did.“Deadpo--”
“I have to go.” Deadpool stood from his work, looking over at the computer store. Peter followed his eyes, slowly, every fiber in his being not wanting to look away from Wade, to see the last of the men cowering behind a desk. “You can take care of him, right, Spidey?”
Wade sounded drained. Peter swallowed down the remorse that took over him as he nodded. “I-Uh- Yeah” Wade braced to walk away, but panic erupted in Peter’s chest. He didn’t want him to go. “Um, We should talk!... Sometime. Like we used to.” He said awkwardly, with urgency, unsure why he had made the offer knowing that he absolutely could not risk giving his identity away.
The mercenary hesitated, his blades, still dirtied with blood and gunpowder, being shoved away into their holsters on his back. “Yeah, maybe .” Wade returned half-heartedly, and it was clear he had no intention of accepting Spider-Man’s offer. He didn’t say anything else, picking his way over the bodies and dragging his feet back towards the exit.
And all Peter could do was watch him walk away with the other half of his heart. His promise ring sat heavily on his finger, under the glove.
He was broken. There was no other way he could describe the torment that had crushed his spirit. Wade was hurting, that much was clear by his shortness, and Peter knew it was entirely his fault.
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This Car of Mine, Chapter 2
here’s the next update! felix goes back to the shop to get his car repaired, and walks out with a heart that’s about ready to burst and maybe one or two less fingers than he had to start with. who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Felix was practically bouncing in his seat in the lobby of the mechanic shop as he waited for Miss Calhoun. He couldn’t recall ever being this excited to see someone before and it felt almost childish, but he didn’t let that bother him. Maybe it was childish to develop a crush on a complete stranger so quickly, but even if it was, he was going to let himself enjoy it while it lasted. The man sitting behind the counter cleared his throat, catching Felix’s attention, and instructed him to drive his car around to the garage.
“You trying to cop my style or what?” Calhoun teased as Felix climbed out of the driver’s seat clad in his uniform, a blue shirt with his name emblazoned on the chest. “I’ll have you know this jumpsuit is corporate-issue, one of a kind.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am,” he chuckled. “Especially not when it looks so much better on you than it ever would on me.”
“Oh, please, flattery don’t charge these batteries,” she smirked, popping the hood of the truck. “What do you do, anyway, that you’re dressed like that?”
“I’m the super for the apartment building down the street,” he answered.
“If you’re a handyman for a living then why am I the one leaning over the engine of your car?”
“Well, I do have a penchant for fixing things, but I’m afraid that cars have always been the one thing I could never quite wrap my head around,” he answered sheepishly. “I can fix a broken washing machine in under an hour but I’m useless when it comes to this stuff.”
“Most of the machinery is similar, you know,” she said. “I could teach you how to do this and then you’d never need a mechanic again.”
“That’s true,” he said, pausing briefly before continuing with a bit of trepidation, “but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to come here anymore.”
“I wouldn’t worry about needing an excuse if I were you,” she said quietly, focusing her attention back on his truck. “Come here.”
Felix obeyed, moving to stand beside her. It took a moment, but the meaning behind her words finally dawned on him and a blush flared up in his cheeks. He looked up at her face for some kind of clue that what he had just heard wasn’t a figment of his imagination, but she had already begun explaining the importance of disconnecting the negative battery cable before they could begin the repair.
He tried his best to focus on Calhoun’s instructions, but he had never stood so close to her before and he couldn’t help but be distracted. Of course she was beautiful--he had known that from the start--but up close, he was completely mesmerized. She turned her head to look at him, pausing mid-sentence as she found herself caught in his gaze. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart, and Felix found himself unable to resist her pull. He slowly began leaning in even closer, but before he could work up the nerve to close the gap and press his lips to hers, she cleared her throat, shaking them both out of their daze.
“Are you listening to me?” she asked, trying to convince herself that she hadn’t just come that close to kissing him.
“Absolutely,” he said, nodding rapidly. He was doing his best to appear calm and collected but he found that nearly impossible to do when she made him so nervous and flustered.
“Okay,” she said, sounding unconvinced. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she turned back to the engine.
Felix remained focused for the rest of her lesson, determined not to let himself slip again. He had to remind himself that she was just trying to do her job; this wasn’t the time or place to be trying to make a move. Maybe she had no interest in him at all. Together, they replaced his fuel pump, and Felix was proud of himself for managing to help with a car repair without screwing anything up.
“See? Told you it was easy,” Calhoun said.
“Well, I did have a pretty wonderful teacher,” Felix replied.
“Hey, what’d I say about flattery?” she teased.
“Does it really count as flattery if it’s the tru--haaaaughhh--”
While he had been speaking, Calhoun had closed the hood without realizing that Felix had been leaning his hand against the edge, effectively crushing his fingers. Springing into action, she popped the hood back open and pulled his hand away before closing it again. She ushered him into a nearby chair and knelt in front of him as she examined his fingers.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“It hurts pretty bad, but I’ll be okay,” he said with a slight shake in his voice.
“It doesn’t look like any of your fingers are broken,” she said. “I don’t even know how that’s possible.”
“Just lucky, I guess,” he replied.
“Yeah, lucky you,” she half-joked. “Let me get you some ice.”
His fingers were already bruising purple by the time she returned, and she winced at the sight of the swelling that had also begun. She pulled up a chair next to him and gingerly placed the ice pack on his hand. The painful throbbing in his fingers was the last thing on his mind as she held his hand, however. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at her soft touch; he had expected her hands to be rough and callused like his due to her line of work, but instead he was met with a surprisingly smooth embrace.
“How is your skin so soft?” he asked.
“What?”
“My hands are so worn from work,” he said, holding out his uninjured hand for her to see, “but yours aren’t like that. They’re soft.”
Calhoun carefully removed her hand from atop the ice pack and delicately traced her fingers over the palm of his hand. She could feel the coarse, uneven patches of skin he had described, but it was far from unpleasant. Despite the rough surface of his palm, she was certain that if he were to close his hand around hers, to lace their fingers together, his hold would be cozy and warm. Felix was melting under her ministrations, wanting nothing more than to pull her hand closer and lay a kiss across the back of her palm. A door slammed shut on the other side of the garage, rousing them from their respective fantasies.
“Calhoun, I’m headin’ out for the night. You got the keys?” a gruff voice called. Felix looked up and recognized its source as the man who had sat behind the counter when he came in.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she replied, hastily releasing Felix’s hand and placing it back on the pack of ice.
The man nodded and began to leave before turning back around to address Felix, pointing at his injured hand.
“You know, this is why most people just sit in the waiting room while their car’s getting fixed.”
Felix and Calhoun were both too shocked to respond, and with a nod, he turned and left. Focusing on Felix once more, Calhoun pulled the ice away from his bruised knuckles and they both leaned forward to assess the damage. His fingers were still purple and red, but the swelling had gone down, allowing them to see that, although painful, his fingers weren’t broken. She walked over to the first aid cabinet on the wall and grabbed a roll of gauze wrap.
“Here. Wrap it up as tight as you can without hurting yourself,” she instructed. “I’m gonna drive your truck around the block to make sure everything’s good with the fuel pump.”
Felix nodded and soon she had driven his car out of the garage, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Everything that had happened in the last ten minutes felt like some sort of fever dream, and if not for the very real pain in his fingertips, he might have believed that it was. More than once today he had felt a brief moment of connection with Miss Calhoun, and he couldn’t tell if the head rush he was experiencing was from his injury or the giddy feeling she seemed to instill in him.
By the time she returned, his hand was wrapped snugly and the pain had subsided to a somewhat bearable level. Felix felt his heart flutter at the sight of her behind the wheel of his truck.
“How’s your hand feel?” she asked as she approached him.
“Better,” he answered with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for your help. If it weren’t for you I would’ve probably just panicked until I passed out.”
“If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”
“But I also wouldn’t’ve learned how to replace a fuel pump,” he pointed out. “Today was my first ever successful car repair, all thanks to you. I take it everything’s running smoothly?”
“Yep, it shouldn’t give you any more trouble,” she answered.
The satisfaction of a job well done quickly wore off as they realized that this meant they had no reason to see each other again.
“Well, I... I know it’s getting late, so I ought to let you get on with your evening,” he said, attempting to keep the sadness out of his voice. “I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me this past couple days.”
“Just doin’ my job, Felix,” she replied. “And don’t forget you have my card, you can always call if something else happens.”
“Trust me, Miss Calhoun, you’re the only mechanic I want working on my truck from now on.”
“Oh, sure, I can just imagine you trying to recommend me to your friends,” she teased. “‘She does a great job, but she might break your hand.’”
“Sure, my fingers may have had a rough day, but the rest of me is just fine,” he smiled. “All told, I’d say the rewards outweigh the consequences.”
Her lips quirked up into a shy smile and his heart did somersaults in response.
“Drive safe,” she said, handing him the keys. “And please let me know if that hand gets any worse.”
“I will,” he replied. “Have a good night, Miss Calhoun.”
By the time he arrived home, he was still consumed with thoughts of Calhoun. He sighed as he pulled the key out of the ignition and leaned back into the driver’s seat. She had said he didn’t need an excuse to come by, but he wasn’t sure he had the courage to go see her without one. Glancing around the car, a glint of light caught his eye on the floor in front of the passenger seat. He leaned over to investigate, finding a set of dog tags that had been left behind. He turned them over in his hand and felt a jolt of excitement as his eyes scanned the name that was engraved in the metal: Sergeant Tamora Calhoun.
It looked like he would have an excuse after all.
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“It’s the best days of your life!!” people (or more specifically parents) always say, to which my response quite often was, “well my future isn’t looking very bright then”. Now, having recently graduated high school, I sort of understand the sentiment. For me, the past few years have included many ups and downs, academically, socially and mentally. But somehow, someway, I managed to persevere. Now here I am, sharing some of the knowledge I’ve accumulated that has gotten me through the past few years. Whether you are an incoming freshman or senior desperately trying to battle senioritis (oh yes, it’s a real thing) I hope this little guide provides you with a little bit of insight. Now, without further a do… welcome to Jen’s declassified school survival guide!
PT 1 - ACADEMICS
Obviously, academics hold a lot of weight in high school. If you decide to pursue higher education they are pretty much your ticket in.
- Choosing classes: When it comes to picking what classes you’ll be taking, actually think it through. Play to your strengths, and seek out alternate options for subjects you know you have trouble with. You are far more likely to do well in a class you enjoy! If you know what you want to do after graduation, pick your classes relating to that. If you don’t, try to keep your options open. Choose electives that allow you to try out new things (like computer coding or a foreign language). It is often these classes where you truly find where your passions lie. If something isn’t working out for you, see if you can change it. Don’t be me and suffer through a chemistry class you hate!
- Organization: Get some sort of planner. Whether it is a fancy bullet journal or a super basic one from the dollar store, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is staying on top of things. Write down due dates for every assignment, presentation, quiz and test. Doing so allows you to clearly visualize what you need to study and when. A lot of your academic success depends on you remembering about that pre-calc exam and the deadline for that essay (especially if you have teachers that deduct marks for overdue assignments)!
- Studying: The earlier you find a method that works for you, the better. While it is important to study enough for your classes, you need to be careful not to burn yourself out. Don’t pull all nighters, because trust me, they rarely work. The night before an exam, close your books early and spend the rest of the time relaxing and getting a good nights sleep. Focusing your mind on what you have learnt is just as important. Also when possible, form study groups! Talking through concepts with your friends or quizing each other on new vocab words is a great way to retain information. Just make sure you actually do some studying and don’t just sit around drinking coffee and watching youtube (I’m looking at you 10th grade Jen).
- Ask questions: It might be hard, but sometimes you just need to swallow your pride and admit you don’t understand something. Try asking a friend who gets it first if you don’t want to go to the teacher right away. At the end of the day however, asking for help is ten times better than failing a test.
PT 2 - SOCIAL
Thanks to Disney channel original movies, it may seem like you have to have dozens of friends and be president of five different clubs to be successful socially. You don’t.
- Find your ‘squad’: For lack of a better word, yeah, your squad. The people who will have your back. It may take a while to find them, and it may evolve over the years, and that’s perfectly ok! Having a few close friends who you can lean on is important for your mental health along with your social well being. They’ll be the people you can joke around with at lunch, or study with in the library after class. Make sure these friends are a positive influence however, and don’t hang around with who don’t treat you with the respect you deserve.
- Extracurricular’s: While you don’t need to join every single one your school has, look into joining one or two. They are a great way to make new friends with similar interests to you, along with providing an outlet for academic stress. If there’s not a club that interests you, talk to your teachers about forming one!
- Drama: It happens. Even when you think you’ve avoided it, it somehow creeps up. The best way to deal with it is finding someone to talk to about it and resolving it before it becomes too serious. Don’t let relationship drama interfere with your school work. Drop all negativity as soon as you can.
PT 3 - MENTAL HEALTH
Nothing is more important than your mental well being. NOTHING. Not grades, not friendships, N O T H I N G.
- Rest: Listen to your body. It knows what you need. While its not always possible, do your best to get eight hours of sleep each night (alright, this is a bit hypocritical coming from me, but just go with it). Working yourself to the point of exhaustion is the worst possible thing you could do. Along with this, remember to take care of your entire body. Drink water and eat something for breakfast (even if it is as small as a piece of toast or an apple).
- Search for positivity: It can come in all shapes and forms such as friends, family, music, or even tv. Look for the things that will help you keep your spirits up no matter what you’re going through. Some days you’ll feel like everything is overwhelming you, and taking a break to watch an episode of your favourite comedy on netflix is exactly what you need to recharge yourself. Life might not always be sunshine and rainbows, but it’s important to still keep its rays and pot of gold in sight.
- Seek help: If things are becoming to difficult for you, get help, and the sooner the better. There is absolutely no shame in it, and it is far better to talk to someone about it than suffer alone.
PT 4 - SENIORITIS
Yeah this gets its own section because wow, it’s real.
- Stay busy: I found that the fewer classes I was taking, the more I began to loose interest. During my first semester I was taking five classes, and by the end of my second, only two! I used my free periods to nap and just generally loose interest in the two classes I was taking. It sucked. In order to try and pull myself out of the slump, I started teaching myself a new language. It gave me something else to do when I’d usually be sleeping or scrolling through twitter. Of course, this method my do the exact opposite for you if you’re someone who can’t stand having more than three things on their do to list. But if you’re like me and get easily bored when there’s nothing to do, keep yourself occupied. You’ll thank yourself in the end. And if all else fails, just think of all the amazing opportunities waiting for you after you graduate, and to get there it means picking yourself up and actually going to class.
And lastly, some words of wisdom from my friend that basically sums everything up: “Make sure you have a balanced schedule, like enough time to go to the gym and study and talk to friends cus it’s so easy to get caught up and forget stuff”.
I hope this has been even the tiniest bit helpful, and as per usual, my inbox is always open if you have any questions or stories to share!
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were so excited for April the 26th, so here’s 26 lessons Taylor has taught us
IF PEOPLE DONT LIKE YOU FOR BEING YOURSELF JUST BE YOURSELF EVEN MORE. - When people make fun of you learn to have more fun then them, keep on dancing and be you. I learnt to be more of me, have fun and take in a little laughter. Thank you for teaching me to shake when the haters come at you and bounce back when they do it again and again and again. We have to be able to make a toast with our real friends who like us for being us. Walking away from people who make your life so sick to the point you’re losing yourself is never easy but sometimes it’s the right thing to do. Only be remembered for what you want to be remembered for. Elise https://thebestpeopleinlifearefreets.tumblr.com
2. The lesson she taught me was to never forget who i am. to remember MY qualities, MY differences, MY inspirations, MY flaws, MY loves, and MY fears. she taught me to embrace them. taylor’s music is everything to me, and every line means something completely different. she has talent and a way with lyrics different than any other being to ever exist. she taught me to search for my talent. she taught me to try new things. for every little thing that makes up me as a human. to remember those. that’s what taylor taught me she also taught me good music. Halle
https://hiilovetaylor.tumblr.com
3. My lesson that she taught me that it’s ok to be myself and ok to be the way I am. Mash http://mashpatatoetay.tumblr.com
4. Taylor has taught me to not let what other people think of me get in the way of me being happy. Maddie http://endofadecade13.tumblr.com
5. Taylor has taught me that it’s okay to do what you feel is right even if your haters disagree with you. Zack http://tswiftblogging.tumblr.com
6. Taylor has taught me to follow my dreams and that I’m not alone in pursuing them. She’s rooting for us!!!. Hope http://swiftlysunshine.tumblr.com
7. taylor has taught me to block out all of the negativity life throws at us and live for ourselves.
Olivia http://hiswindow.tumblr.com
8. Taylor taught me that even in the midst of your worst and darkest times there’s hope and light and happiness. Hayley http://tayfthay.tumblr.com
9. You should just focus on your goals and don’t let other people sidetrack you. Zsombor
http://iamzsombor.tumblr.com
10. The lesson Taylor has taught me is to not care about what people think about me. Like Taylor once said “you are not the opinion of someone who doesn’t know you”, means a lot to me, because I’ve been bullied a lot but Taylor helped me get through it especially she has helped me with my depression and anxiety. Marissa http://nowimurdaisy13.tumblr.com
11. Taylor has taught me unconditional love. Carly http://littleblackdress-swift.tumblr.com
12. Taylor taught me that I shouldn't let other people's values and opinions on my life change my decisions. And that I don't need other people's validation for my life and the way I am. Honestly this entire article meant the world to me and writing all of that would take years haha but I love how far she's come as a person and I love her for teaching us so much. Navs http://navyaalovestaylor.tumblr.com
13. Taylor taught us that we are not the opinion of someone who doesn't know us and that we are not our mistakes. http://taylorsleofriend.tumblr.com
14. One lesson I have learnt and I am most proud of is to Never Be The Opinion Of Someone Who Doesn't Know You. Asoba http://son-of-taylor.tumblr.com/
15. Taylor has taught me to be myself and not care about what others think of me and because of this I’ve found people who like me for me. Emily http://imreadyforittay.tumblr.com
16. ‘to not be afraid to be myself and shake off the haters’ Sarah
http://callitwhtyouwant13.tumblr.com
17. You are not the opinion of someone who doesn't know you. If they don't know who you are and what you stand for then how can they judge you. Be who you want to be and love the people you love. Stay close to family and friends, and cherish their love for you. Do not be caught up in the false gossip of people who don't know you and don't CARE about you. Because as Taylor has taught us from the start, we are NOT the opinion of people who don't know and care about us. Elise http://melbourneswift13.tumblr.com
18. T has taught me that sometimes to hold on you have to let go. Grace
http://getawaygrace13.tumblr.com
19. Taylor taught me that I should never be ashamed of who I love, no matter who disapproves. There will always be times in your life when your parents or friends won’t approve of who you’re dating, but if you feel like it’s right then that doesn’t matter. This is communicated primarily through songs such as Love Story, Ours and Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I think this message is super important, especially for LGBT+ fans!. Sara
http://heytayloryoulooklikeanangel.tumblr.com
20. Okay. Taylor has taught me to not be afraid of love or heartbreak, cause both of those things shape you into the person you. She inspires me to be my best self and I love her for that. Liva
http://livswiftly.tumblr.com
21. Taylor taught me that the best thing I can be, is myself. She taught me to stand up to bullies and not them get me down, and that as long as I remain true to myself, I will always be happy in life. Brandi http://a-getaway-cat.tumblr.com
22. Other than giving me unimaginable happiness and so many new friends from all around the world, Taylor's dedication towards her art and her kindness towards others has made me idealize her and look up to her. However, if I had to put my finger on one of the most important lessons that she has taught ME, I would have to say that she really has helped me become more confident and comfortable in my skin. From the clean speeches at shows, to her opening up about her body image issues. She really taught me that not being happy with yourself is still okay. It's a process to overcome and it takes time. This valuable lesson has really made me a different person today and I can't thank her enough for that. Meshita. http://cherrylipsswift13.tumblr.com
23. “A lesson she taught me is that it’s okay to talk about your feelings. So many times in life we’re taught to ‘stuff your feelings’ and not to ‘over share’. Since Taylor has been brave enough to ignore the media’s criticism and to share details of her life with us, she has created songs that are relatable to so many people. In return, it has helped so many of us because we can listen to one of her songs and immediately feel better because someone out there understands. When you see that your favorite person is able to speak out, it’s encouraging for us to do the same.” Carly http://getawaycarly13.tumblr.com
24. “be kind to yourself, and to others, everyone is fighting their own battle” Lauren http://riskingggoodbyes.tumblr.com
25. Taylor has taught me to always be kind to others. Sometimes it’s hard but Taylor has truely taught me to always be the bigger person, always be kind and stay true to myself always. This life lesson changed me for the better and I’m beyond grateful for her. Abbey
http://youbelongwithtay13.tumblr.com
26. Taylor has taught me to never give up on my dreams. She started out playing in small venues and never giving up even when it was tough. She continued to pursue her dreams and give everything she got and look where she is today. She has taught me that even when I fail I have to get back up and try again! Her and her music have been here for me through some of the toughest times of my life and I’m so thankful for her. I love her so much and wouldn’t be the person today without her and her music. I’m so excited for the next chapter. Alison http://reputallison13.tumblr.com
@taylornation @taylorswift
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Chapter 5
masterlist
author’s note: sorry this one has taken so long!! this week has been super busy!! hope you like it and as always send feedback (:
word count: 2,087
“So you slept with him or you think you slept with him?” Jimmy asked, having some difficulty trying to follow my story.
“I definitely slept with him, I just don’t remember it.”
“Okay. okay. I get it.” He started, as his hands moved, connecting the dots visually as well as in his mind. “And now you’re going on a date with him.” I nodded, confirming everything he had just said.
“Are you excited?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But, I do need your help.”
Jimmy still just stared at me blankly.
“Like how do I even approach this situation?” I asked, walking over to where he was, stretched out on top of my bed, before sitting down on the edge of it.
“Aren’t you supposed to ask you girl friends about this, like Molly or Stella or someone.” He said as he propped himself up on his forearms.
“Yeah, and I will.” I rolled my eyes. “I just wanna know what a guy thinks during this situation, like expectations and stuff.
“Expectations?” He questioned. I nodded. “I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“You are actually no help.”
“What do you want me to say?” He asked incredulously.
Huffing, I practically threw myself on the bed. This was not going at all as I planned. Jimmy almost seemed mad that I was asking his advice on what to do on my date. But, to me it wasn’t just a date. Richard was a guy I had been crushing on for a while. I wanted things with him to go well. This was important.
“Sorry.” He said, his tone softening as he began sensing the tension between the two of you. “It’ll be great.”
I gave him a soft smile. I could see that he was tying and that was enough, for now at least. “Do you wanna order sushi?” I asked, trying to move the conversation in different, lighter direction.
But even with that the night still seemed weird, just sort of awkward between us. There were things that neither of us were saying. There was a little bit more space between us on the couch, and even after the movie we had watched, and though it was almost midnight and while usually Jimmy would just crash on my couch, he decided to go home. And that’s when I knew, really, that something was off.
I guess sometime during the movie I had fallen asleep and when I woke up, startled, expecting to see his familiar face next to me on the couch. But, he wasn’t there. The TV had been turned off, all the dishes were in the sink, and there was a blanket placed upon me. The only thing missing was him.
On the way to my room, I checked to see if he had moseyed his way into the guest room to sleep, having done that a few times before, but nope. There was nobody in there. Glancing at my phone, I checked for a text, saying that he was leaving or something but that wasn’t there either.
The rest of the night I couldn’t sleep. My body was exhausted, but my mind was restless. Whether it was the nerves about my date or the awkwardness from Jimmy I couldn’t shake, I didn’t know.
Thankfully, however, the morning and my day at work had gone pretty smoothly, and now I had about two hours to get ready for my date.
And, damn did I look good. It took nearly the whole two hours, but it was worth it. Hair blown out to perfection. A smokey eye that was just smokey enough that it brought out the natural green hue of my eyes. A nude color on my lips that complemented everything else, without overpowering it. I was ready.
And, as I held the soft pink dress up against my body one last time in front the mirror, I knew for sure. The dress tied in the front, showing just a hint of cleavage. Usually, I didn’t wear as soft of a pink color but since it was summer and I actually had a tan, I decided to go for it. Pairing it with a gold studded, open toed heel, really made it the perfect summer outfit. But, as I glanced at the clock, I realized I only had five minutes until he would be here, and with the realization that this was happening, now, I started freaking out.
I heard his knock at the door, but I didn’t want to just rush over, so I grabbed my favorite lip gloss and my purse, before opening the door. He looked great. His navy blue dress pants were fitted to a tee, there was no doubt they were custom made for him. He paired it with a simple white button shirt, that was a few buttons unbuttoned, and a matching navy blue jacket. I smiled at him, trying to match the one on his face.
“You look incredible.” He gushed. “Are you all set to go?” I nodded before we left, walking into the
Richard was a gentleman, there was no qualms about it. From the way he held doors open for me or how he pushed my chair in as we sat down for dinner. It was sweet- a nice surprise from the usual meet ups I had had with guys. I let him choose the restaurant, and it was nice, I just wasn’t familiar with it. Usually, and unless I had to, I usually stayed in SoHo. It was where I worked, where I lived, where all my friends lived, where all my spots were- theres as no real reason to leave.
It was a big restaurant, but it didn’t feel big. Maybe it was the candle light that made it feel intimate. But, some how it felt like it was only the two of us, all the other voices and faces around us seemed to blur, and all I could focus on was him.
“So.” Richard started, after taking a swig of his red wine. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” I laughed nervously.
“Anything.” He said, seeming genuinely intrigued. “I see you everyday in the elevator, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“Okay. Well, I work in media.”
“Do you like it?” He asked.
“Yeah, I really do.” I smiled. “Do you like your job?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation between the two of us flowing.
“You know, I always think I don’t.” He began, while I semi regretted asking him the question noticing the negative beginning to his answer. “But then I’ll go on vacation or take some time off and by the end I’m always itching to go back.”
I smiled again, nodding. I was trying to picture him at work, but then it hit me- I didn��t actually know was he did for a living. “What do you do, exactly?” I asked sheepishly.
“I’m a lawyer.” He chuckled, at my shyness. “When you caught me the other night I had just finished meeting with a client. You don’t know how happy I was to see you.”
I just stared at him blankly, not quite sure what to say.
“Let me guess.” Richard said, his hazel eyes looking exceptionally golden under the lighting of the restaurant and a devilish grin upon his lips. “You don’t remember.”
I looked down, shaking my head at the embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” I tried. “I was just really drunk, I wish I remembered it.”
He waved it off. “Happens to the best of us.” He said so nonchalantly. He wasn’t mad. There was no drama, no fights. It was refreshing to be talking to a guy and not be dealing with any of the usual bullshit that usually came with my relationships.
Thankfully after that conversation between us never lulled, even when the food was placed in front of our place settings, we still found a way to keep things going. And, man, as time went on he just got more and more handsome. Now, I really wish I remembered having sex with him.
It had all the makings to be a great date, and really, it was. The only thing that could make it better would be if he kissed me at the end of the night.
I watched as he paid the check, I tried to say something when it first came but he waved me off telling me that he had it, just sort of studying the features of his face that I had never noticed before. Like, the small scar on his neck, right underneath his ear. Or, the sole freckle on his forehead that you might miss if you were just glancing at him, as it was only a few shades darker that his actual skin tone.
“Are you ready to go?” He asked. I smiled and nodded, before standing up, and walking out of the restaurant and I knew he was right behind me. I could feel his presence- but not in a bad way. It was comforting.
The cab ride back to our building was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. When something came up, we talked about it, but I didn’t feel the need to constantly be making conversation. It was peaceful.
It was crazy, this was only our first date but already I felt like I could be myself with him. In passing, I had always thought he was stuffy and proper, but he was the opposite- easy going, funny, just a person I wanted to be around.
The elevator ride was quiet, especially as I noticed the look of one woman as both Richard and I walked into the elevator at the same, laughing. She knew what we were doing, and I knew what she thought. He was older, not old, but older. But, as I looked up at him, he smiled, and that put any fear or hesitation about him or his age to bed.
As we walked down the hallway to my door, his hand laced with mine. It was sweet, innocent, and it made me blush. He let go just as we got to my door, the both of us stopping in front of it.
“Well, this is me.” I said, glancing down at the floor quickly.
“I had a really great time.”
“Me too.” I answered immediately and honestly. “We should do this again.”
He nodded. As he looked at me, our eyes connecting. I could tell that he wanted to kiss me but didn’t know if it was okay. It was, of course, it’s not like this was uncharted territory for us. He had already seen me naked. So, I kissed him. I think it took him by surprise. It was a good kiss. It didn’t ignite fireworks in me, but rather was like a slow burning fire.
It was the kind of kiss that makes you want more.
And, with that I said goodnight before walking into my apartment. The rest of the night, though, I couldn’t help smiling, through everything.
“How was your date with what’s his face?” Jimmy asked, annoyingly.
“Shut up.” I quickly responded. “You know his name.”
“I know.”
“What do you have against him? Seriously? “ I questioned.
“Nothing.” He breathed.
“Well, you must have some problem with him, you always seemed annoyed when I bring him up or have some sort of attitude when you bring him up in conversation.” I practically yelled across the room. I couldn’t help it. I was heated. I really like Richard, and I couldn’t see why Jimmy would have such a problem with that.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it was making you upset. I just, don’t think this guy is good enough.”
“Well, good for you that it’s not up to you to make those decisions.” I snapped back at him.
“You’re right.” And, with that, I pressed play resuming the show we were we watching. But it didn’t matter what was on the screen, I couldn’t get my Jimmy/Richard drama out of my mind.
Even though Jimmy had said everything was alright, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something definitely wasn’t. The person that stood before me wasn’t the one that I knew. And, while I thought it was jealousy, it wasn’t like he had ever acted this way before with any other guy that I had dated. But, instead of fixating on it I turned my attention to Bachelor in Paradise, which we were really watching more for Jimmy than for me. But, he would never admit that. Ever.
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Actual, real-world Life Advice from Lee: INTERVIEWING
Hopefully, you know the basics – give yourself cushion to travel and arrive a few minutes early (10, not 30, even if this means sitting in the parking lot for 20 minutes), dress nicely and neatly, smile, shake hands, turn off your cell phone. But what about when it comes to the actual questions? I worked in a recruitment office for awhile, and still work closely with recruiters in the US – so here is some advice from Old Lady Lee on interviewing. Take it or leave it ;)
Have at least four experiences in your back pocket that you can comfortably and quickly talk about.
Times where you excelled through hard work, accomplishments you’ve had. Ideally, these will be in the context of whatever you’re interviewing for (work experiences for work interview, school experiences for school interview) but it’s okay to have 1 or 2 that aren’t. Be able to talk, SUCCINCTLY, about how those experiences allowed you to demonstrate:
Time management
Leadership
Problem-solving
Communication
Those are super common behavioral-based topics. And if you have a teeny bit of a script, you have a starting point to flex if they ask you about prioritization (similar to time management!), persuasion (similar to leadership!), using your best judgement, etc. etc. Talk about them EQUALLY. If you use the same experience for every question they will think you’re a one-trick pony. The reason you’re being asked questions like this is because most companies believe the best predictor of future performance is past performance, so if their work environment is fast-paced or full of prioritization, they want to know how you’ve handled that in the past.
Use the STAR approach to answering – Situation, Task, Action, Result
This helps your answers stay focused. If they ask you ‘tell me about a time where you demonstrated initiative’ you can say ‘Once I had a group project for XYZ class’ (Situation) ‘We had to do a group presentation on ABC topic’ (Task) ‘I felt encouraged to do something out of the box, so rather than just do a traditional powerpoint, I persuaded my team to do an interactive skit. I took the initiative to write the script early, presented it to them for feedback, and worked with them on revisions’ (Action you took) ‘The teacher really enjoyed that we took a risk, and rewarded us with a high grade. From that experience, I learned about (working with different personalities, time management, taking calculated risks)’ (Result of the action you took). Practice these kinds of answers with your four-five situations from above. Google ‘behavior-based interview questions’ as a starting place.
Use their language
Shakespeare used to do this! Open up a conversation between Romeo and Juliet, and you’ll see that they constantly use words the other one used in the sentences prior – showing that they are listening and on the same page. Contrast that to Juliet and her mother, where hardly any verbiage overlaps, which shows they are not listening and communicating on the same wavelength. This is especially valuable in written applications, but applies verbally as well. Don’t be…blatant or gratuitous, just keep it in mind. If they ask you about a time when you problem-solved, use the phrase ‘I solved the problem’ at some point. Again, practice helps.
Take a deep breath
I mean that literally. Silence is never, ever as long as it feels in your head. Seriously! If you need a second, it’s okay to say, “Gosh, good question, can I have a second to consider it?” or you can repeat the question back to buy a few seconds to think “A time when I motivated others? Let me see.” Your interviewers know this is stressful and hard, and most of them are sympathetic to that. Especially if you are young and this a first job outta school and such. Get your oxygen and then go. (If they’re a jerk? Sign maybe you don’t wanna be there – you get to evaluate fit from them just like they’re evaluating fit from you). No matter how much you prepare, they will ask you something that makes you go blank for a sec. Know that’s gonna happen, and know it’s gonna be okay! Breathe, think through STAR, and speak.
BE HONEST – but not extensive
DO NOT I repeat DO NOT give a BS false compliment answer to ‘what is your greatest weakness’ (by which I mean ‘oh gosh I just work too hard’ or “I’m just too much of a perfectionist”) Just don’t. DON’T DO IT. Your interviewer, if they have EVER interviewed ANYONE, will see through it and will have to make a great effort to not wrinkle their nose at you. Give a real, thoughtful, and SHORT answer. One. Do not launch into a self-deprecating list. Maybe you struggle with finishing details, or communicating peer-to-peer, or maybe your just straight up don’t have enough experience. Be honest. AND THEN SPIN IT to a POSITIVE FUTURE. “I’m great at the bulk 90%, but I struggle with that last 10% of details. But I’ve been learning from my detail-oriented peers, and I’m working on partnering with them more to improve my ability to see what they see, something I would continue in a new environment” Or “I don’t have large-scale experience with a company this size, but I feel my experiences in the classroom/with the smaller business will translate well, and I’m a quick learner, so I think this can be overcome in a reasonable amount of time.” Tell them how you are actively working to overcome that weakness. And always, always be honest. You will BOTH regret it later if you’re not. If they ask you if you like working in a fast-paced environment and you lie, you’ll all be miserable in six months. It can be very easy to fall prey to the panic of ‘gotta get a job’ but – maybe one more interview for the right fit is worth it, or you’re just wasting time and will have to repeat this all later, with the bonus of explaining why you left a new job a few months in.
It’s all sunshine and roses – even when it wasn’t
Never, ever, ever say anything negative about a prior boss or coworker. I don’t care if your previous boss sacrificed kittens to capitalism, don’t do it. This is the one place where it’s okay to flex or omit the full story. Again, don’t lie, just pick a different focus, ideally, a positive about the new place. For example, “Why did you leave your last job” - rather than say ‘because my boss was a JERK’ say ‘I wanted to move towards an opportunity where I could better use my skills in communication paired with my interest in saving the whales, which is why I am grateful for the chance to speak with you about this position, which nicely dovetails those things”. This gets TRICKY when it’s stuff like ‘tell me about a time when you fought with a coworker’ but again you can spin it to ‘we both learned how to communicate’ or what have you. ALWAYS go neutral over negative and don’t make it about money.
Know Thyself
They’ve read your resume and/or application. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be there! So when someone asks you ‘tell me about yourself’ (AND THEY WILL) don’t recite your resume (I went to school for ABC, I worked in ZYX doing 123). Instead of ‘I went to school for…’ say ‘I studied [topic] because I’ve always had a passion for…’ don’t go totally off topic (if you ONLY talk about your community charity hobby, they will wonder if you have any interest in working) but weave in that stuff that makes you you that didn’t make it on the paper. They won’t ask you these questions, but ask yourself, and know the answers because these are good things to talk about--
What motivates you?
What energizes you?
What do you wish you were doing more of?
What are you passionate about?
What brings you joy?
What does a good day at work look like? What will you have accomplished?
What working environment excites you?
How do you communicate?
How do you know you’ve done a good job?
Ask them questions back
This shows interest and engagement and honestly, YOU are interviewing them too!! Ask about what they enjoy about working/studying there. Ask them what a typical project looks like. Ask what a typical work week looks like. Ask about successes from the department. Ask about the team and what they do well. Ask about the working environment and culture. Ask what questions THEY would ask if they were in your shoes. Ask what you feel is most important for someone in the role to have or do to support them. Have at LEAST one question ready – but better to have around 3 in case they answer it pre-emptively.
Let them talk
Listen! Liiiiisten! Listen when they answer, listen when they ask, listen when they talk. It’s easy to get caught up in thinking about your scenarios or how you have to answer or how much you want this – and you’ll miss something. Take it one question at a time. DO NOT be thinking of what you will say next while they’re talking (this is hard, hahahaa)
Smile, you did it!
Thank your interviewer, and even if it went massively badly – remember everything is a positive ;) you have a new ‘tell me about a time you failed’ answer, with the spin of ‘I learned a lot to help me work through the nerves and prepare for the next time’.
BREATHE. SMILE. YOU GOT THIS.
If you follow me, I’m always free for a practice interview if you want.
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Fireflies: the Beginning
This is what happens when a simple one and done turns out to be so much more...
Daryl and the Reader have a rough start. Will they tear each other apart or become friends?
Warnings: mentions of dead deer and language
Word count: 1600ish
A/N: takes place between seasons 3 & 4 when everything at the prison was calm. After the initial attack, but before round 2.
Series Master
@charlottecl @dragongirl420 (just for you)
Working hard was nothing new to you. Now that you were at the prison, you wanted to make it work. You wanted to be invaluable to them, to fit in, to have a family again, a place where you belonged. Being alone was the worst thing a person could be in the apocalypse and you were tired of being alone. Even when you were at Woodbury, you kept to yourself, stayed off the radar. With a person like the Governor running the place, you knew better than to draw negative attention, or any attention at all, to yourself.
The prison had a better feel to it, more community, less psychotic. Mostly, the people at the prison were welcoming, there was one that was less so, Daryl. You got nothing but the cold shoulder from him. That was fine with you, you didn’t care if he liked you, but he could, at least, say hello when you said hello.
He’d been gone a few days on a hunting trip with Rick when he came walking up to the food prep area with a deer carcass on his shoulders. He was covered in mud and blood and the sight of him was slightly alarming. Too late, you realized that he was going to drop the carcass near the prep area.
Unceremoniously, he shrugged the deer off his shoulders and it landed with a thud near the baskets of vegetables. He barely lost a step and kept on walking right past you, silent as usual. Carol didn’t even register what had happened.
“Hey!” you called after him but he kept walking.
You dashed after him to get his attention, sick of his bullshit.
“Hey!” you said again, catching him and grabbing his upper arm.
He turned out of your grasp.
“What?!” he was staring you down, pissed off about something.
You didn’t back down. You could be dead tomorrow and life was just too damned short to take shit from assholes like him.
“Are you hurt?!” you asked pointing at the mess down the front of his clothes.
“No, I ain’t hurt, this comes from real work,” he sneered.
It seemed like he was decent to everyone but you.
“Look pal, I work my fingers to the bone. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I don’t know what you think I do, but I sure as hell don’t sit on my ass all day. Now get that carcass out of my prep area before you give us all food poisoning,” you barely held back from yelling at him.
“That’s food,” he pointed at the deer, “prep it.”
“Did you even field dress it? How long has it been dead? Is that blood from draining it? I could give a shit less if I have a bite of it, but these people need every scrap we can provide. Now I have to clean all of the vegetables to make sure no one gets sick. You,” you jabbed his bloody shoulder, “get that goddamned deer out of my prep area. Drain, skin, and clean the fucking thing and I’ll be happy to fix it up any way you want.”
Before he stalked back to the deer, you thought you heard him say “bossy bitch.”
Carol was watching her friend get his ass handed to him by the new girl. She only barely hid her amusement as he stalked back to the deer.
“She’s not wrong, you know,” Carol pointed out.
“Whose side are you on?” he grunted while picking up the deer again.
“The side that keeps us healthy and fed,” she said as he walked away.
“Thanks a lot,” he grumbled.
“That’s your side, too!” she called after him.
Rick had caught the tail-end of the argument and asked Carol, “What was that all about?”
“The new girl is finally tired of him being an ass,” she explained.
“Huh,” Rick mused. He watched as (Y|N) was cleaning up the tables. He had an idea, but he’d have to wait and see if it happened on its own.
THREE WEEKS LATER
Things weren’t good between you and Daryl, but they weren’t worse either. He even said “hello” a few times. You knew he wasn’t a bad person, that was easy enough to see. For some reason, you brought out the worst in him.
You’d just finished cleaning up from dinner and made yourself a heaping plate of leftovers. They would go bad if they didn’t get eaten.
“(Y|N)?” Hershel asked.
You turned to see your mentor looking at you rather sheepishly.
“Oh god, what?” you answered.
“Daryl didn’t get any of this fine dinner you made tonight. Would you mind taking him some?”
“Hershel, that man hates me and I don’t know why. I don’t make much effort to chat him up.” It hurt your feelings that he was so cold to you and you hated that it bothered you.
“He doesn’t hate you, darlin. He just doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s been through a lot and pushes people away. Just don’t give up on him,” he handed you a bottle of water.
That was bullshit. Everyone you met since the world died had been through a lot, yourself included.
“Fine,” you relented, “where is he?”
A few minutes later, you were trudging through the field to the south west guard tower. The grass was growing like crazy already, thankfully there was a path that was well worn through the field. There was no sneaking up on that tower, there was nothing but open spaces on all sides of the remote tower.
Inside the building, you climbed the stairs and emerged in the lookout. The small space smelled of rotting wood, paper and vinyl that had cooked in the sun for far too long. Daryl and a couple other people were the only ones that took watch in that tower and cleanliness was not a priority.
You made a quick dash out onto the catwalk, “Jesus Christ, there’s a lot of spiders in there.” You couldn’t hold back the whole-body shudder that came over you.
Daryl was sitting on the catwalk; his legs dangling over the edge and was leaning over on the lowest rung of the guardrail. No matter what, Daryl always wore that leather vest with the angel wings on the back. He only half-turned his head to speak to you.
“How’d you live this long makin’ all that noise?”
“I wanted you to hear me, smartass. I didn’t want to get shot dodging all those spiders,” you told him.
You sat down near him with your legs crisscrossed. You put the plate down in the space between you and you noticed Daryl eyeing the over-full plate before he turned back to watch the fields. You nudged him with your hand. He gave you a scathing look in response.
“You don’t scare me with that hateful gaze,” god he’s exhausting. You indicated the plate between you, “It’s not all for me, Oscar.” You waited for him to take the water bottle you were holding out to him. You eventually had to put it down. “Look, man, I can eat this all myself, I’m hungry enough. It’s been a while since I felt like a fat pig, wouldn’t mind remembering what that feels like, but here I am willing to share with a guy that hates me.” You watched him for a few quiet moments.
“I’m not asking to be super best friends, Daryl, just basic courtesy, the stuff I see you do for, literally, everyone but me,” you waited for a reaction but got none. “I don’t know what I did to you, but I don’t think I deserve this level of shit from you. Share with me or not, I don’t care. Take the last of your deer meat. You need it more than me.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward for you. You were happy to look at the grounds from that vantage point. If you could put aside the fact that the world died, it was quite peaceful and the view was spectacular. The grounds gently rolled outside of the prison yard and there were trees everywhere. The sun would start to set soon and the clouds looked promising for a spectacular sunset.
Daryl had been hungrier than he’d let on and ate most of what was on the plate. You’d brought along a large can of pineapple chunks and were quite pleased to be eating them, especially since they hadn’t gone bad. You ate as you waited for the sun to do its light show and looked up at the clouds to see if you could spot any hidden pictures.
“Sea turtle,” you’d randomly spotted the familiar shape.
You’d caught Daryl off guard, “What?”
“That cloud,” you closed an eye and pointed, “right there, looks just like a sea turtle.”
He craned his neck around to look.
“It does look like a turtle,” he admitted.
“Yeah, but it’s a sea turtle,” you clarified. He gave you a look that said “so?” “Dude, they live their whole lives in the water. The females only go on land to lay their eggs. The only thing they have to worry about are natural predators, not dead things trying to eat them……plus, they look cool.”
“Ever see one before?” he asked.
“Only in a zoo,” you answered.
He made a scoffing sound and went back to watching the fields. Daryl was being almost pleasant. What a nice change, you thought. When you were both done eating, the sun was starting to set. The yellows and oranges faded to pinks and reds and that was when you saw them, letting out a little gasp.
“Daryl,” you whispered and touched his arm. He grabbed for the rifle next to him. “No, you assured him, “it’s okay.” You were still whispering, not taking any chances of disrupting them. Seeing them told you what time of year it was and that your birthday was coming soon. “Look…fireflies.”
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