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mqgriett · 3 years

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Crosshair- The Exam

Prompt: “You’re the only thing that matters”

Pairings: Crosshair x Fem!reader

Warnings: none!

Summary: you’ve been studying your ass off for a month trying to prepare for the exam that will dictate whether or not you get to go back to the 104th battalion as a medic.

Notes: IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG thank you sm for requesting @lightning-wolffe

You shut off your data pad and pushed it under your armpit, squeezing it with your bicep to not let it fall from your grip as you open your textbook. Before you received the chance to re-read your highlighted notes you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“I heard that your boys landed in Hangar 5.” Kix chirped, pointing behind him with his thumb. He ran his opposite hand through his short brown hair, smiling kindly.

You hummed in response, your attention mostly focused on your annotations. The big exam, one that basically determined whether or not you were allowed to return to your assigned Clone Force, was in three days. Every quiet moment was spent with you cracking open a textbook or reviewing your notes. Now that you thought about it, when was the last time you ate… or slept?

Kix quickened his pace and moved in front of you, using his index finger to push your book down to properly view your face. “You know the exam isn’t for another three days, right?” he asked.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, “Unfortunately not everyone has a memory like yours. I need to study.” you said, closing your book and bopping him on the head with it lightly.

He took the textbook from your hands, holding it up in the air until it was out of your reach. “Fives!” he called to someone you couldn’t see, “Batchers still here?”

Behind you, the ARC trooper nodded, “Gonna be here for the next coupla hours. Engine is shot.”

Kix let his guard down just long enough for you to grab your study materials back. You gently nudged him to the side and walked past, just wanting to get back to your quarters and study.

The medic gave up, hurrying to catch up with Fives as you walked in the opposite direction.

Were you dying to see the Bad Batch? Absolutely.

Did you have the time to? Unfortunately not.

Someone (a medic from the 212th apparently, but you tried not to believe rumors) had fucked up a month ago, and it costs you your privilege of being an on-site medic. All field nurses were sent back to Coruscant to retake the big medical exam to prove that they could still serve as medics.

Unlike Kix, you took it very seriously. Getting anything below a 80% would make your chances of returning small. Only the top 45% of nurses would go back to their battalions while the other 55% stayed on Coruscant to continue their studies.

The large metal door to your room slid open as you scanned your hand and you stepped inside. Without looking up, you wandered to your desk, which was covered in an assortment of different papers and sticky notes.

Still reading your textbook, you typed in the access code for your online notes. After a few seconds an automated female voice began to quiz you on questions you had written down two weeks ago.

You stood up and undressed yourself, lazily pulling a dark brown shirt over your head and letting your hair fall loose from the bun that had sat on your head for the majority of the day.

“Define Choledocholithiasis.” said the voice.

“Stones in the gallbladder or common bile duct” you replied effortlessly, shuffling to your bathroom to fill the water compartment for your caf.

You plugged the machine into the wall, allowing the slow drip of heavenly brown liquid to start as you sat back down at your desk. It gave you a moment to think about everything. Realistically, you were more qualified than half the shinies going in to take the exam.

Kriff, you were wasting your time here.

You pushed back from your desk and slid on the first pair of shoes that were near your door.

The halls had quieted down for the most part, most of the clones eating dinner or heading to bed if they had an early start tomorrow morning.

Massaging your scalp and yawning, you made your way to Hangar 5.

You looked a little tired, but it didn’t matter as long as you got to see Crosshair. You knew none of them would care but especially not him, in the small window of time you two got alone he frequently told you how much he loved your messy hair. He wasn’t much of a verbal communicator when it came to your relationship, but he always made up for it in physical gestures.

Rounding the final corner, your eyes began to scan the busy hangar for the marauder. You took back your thought from earlier, seeing that Hangar 5 was a lot more busy than you had anticipated.

At least two different squadrons were shipping out, from what you could tell it was the 104th and 312th battalions. The blurred figures of grey and green armor made it difficult to keep your focus on one thing at a time.

You carefully started to walk along the wall, ducking until a small cruiser as a short cut.

After another ten minutes of searching you finally spotted a familiar face in the bottom right corner of the hangar.

Tech typed away at his data pad, turning to shout something up at Wrecker, who was sitting on the top of the ship and swinging his legs like a mad man.

Despite the excitement bubbling in your stomach, you took your time walking over to them. It was nice to just observe and laugh at their behavior for a few minutes, it lifted your spirits.

Once you were within vision to Wrecker, he didn’t hesitate to point and shout at you from the top of the Marauder.

“Tech!” You called as he mindlessly searched for you in the crowd of people.

He grinned widely, opening his arms up as you jogged over to him. He hugged you tightly, another pair of large arms suddenly wrapping around both of you.

Wrecker finally set you two down, giving you an individual hug and swaying you from side to side. At one point you were almost choking.

“Thought you were studying for the exam.” Tech said skeptically, eyeing you as if you would ever hide something from him.

You shrugged, “priorities” you peeked over his shoulder, looking for a specific person.

Tech noticed your wandering eyes and smiled, “Cross is taking inventory with Cody.”

“Where’s Sarg?” you asked, linking your arm into his.

“Talking to some of the blue regs.” Wrecker replied loudly, making a few of the 501st soldiers turn to look at him. The large clone was never one to be secretive when it came to addressing the other clones as “regs”. It often drew attention to the group, not necessarily the good kind either.

From a distance you could see Hunter walking back towards the Marauder with Fives, both of them with their helmets at their hips.

Sarg’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, his pace quickening as his urge to be with you grew. He hugged your torso tightly, allowing his arm to sling around your shoulder loosely afterwards.

“It’s been a while.” He said, gently nudging you away from Fives before the ARC trooper could talk.

“It’s been two months. And I always call.” You replied, smiling.

“You look exhausted.” Hunter pointed out quickly, looking down at the bags under your eyes.

You shrugged, “could say the same for you Sarg.”

You four situated yourselves underneath the Marauder, sitting on top of a few power supplies and food crates. Hunter sat next to you, Wrecker and Tech mirroring both of you.

“We were told you wouldn’t be coming down.” Hunter said, leaning back on his elbows.

You raised a skeptical brow, “who told you that?”

“Fives” he answered nonchalantly, “why else would I be talking to him?”

His comment made your eyes roll, “be nice.” You warned, poking his stomach where armor didn’t cover him.

Hunter swatted your hand away, briefly turning his head and smiling. “Look who’s back,” he jutted his thumb behind him, pointing to the two other clones making their way back to the ship.

Cody held a clipboard loosely at his side as he spoke to Crosshair, who carried his helmet against his hip. The 212th trooper laughed at something he said before saluting the sniper and walking in the opposite direction.

You always seemed to forget how handsome Cross was in person. The blue hologram of him during your brief calls did nothing for his strong jawline and high cheekbones. The scruff along his jaw and neck was slightly more visible now, a grey shadow lingering along it.

Pushing yourself off the crate, you broke into a swift jog towards him. For someone with perfect eyesight, he didn’t notice you coming until you were a few meters away.

He opened his arms up, catching you perfectly as you jumped to him.

His long arms held your waist completely as he lowered you to the ground, back arched due to his height compared to yours.“Didn't think you would come.” he said softly in your ear, his voice alone producing butterflies in your stomach.

“I wanted to see you.” you replied, pulling away from him and moving to his side.

Crosshair sent a small smirk to you, which was enough to indicate that he felt the same way.

You walked side by side back to the rest of the group, shoulders touching and hands grazing against one another’s. The gestures were sweet, like the type you would make in school when you were younger. They were enough to make the other person feel loved without drawing too much attention.

The Bad Batch, plus you, sat underneath their ship once more as the rest of the 104th took off in their ships. You waved to Sinker and Comet from the opposite side of the hangar, tossing over-dramatic kisses in their direction while they climbed up the steps. Another mission for them, one that you wouldn’t be going to.

“When do you expect to return?” Tech asked from the top of his crate. You had situated yourself on a lower case, one that was used to store bombs and other small explosives. It kept you about seven or eight inches off the ground while Crosshair took your spot next to Hunter.

You let out a long sigh, “I don’t even know if I’ll go back.”

“They need ya out there.” Wrecker replied, crossing his large legs like a child would.

Crosshair could sense your unease and pushed himself off the crate, settling on the ground in front of you and leaning back so his head pressed against your chest. He let out a small chuckle, no doubt feeling your heartbeat quicken for a few moments. “They’ll take you back.” he said calmly, reaching for your hand and placing it atop his head.

You began to run your fingers through his short, grey hair. “If I don’t get above an 80% then I’m not going back.” You mumbled.

“Why 80?” Hunter asked innocently.

“Because she’s a girl.” Wrecker replied loudly, having absolutely zero common sense as to who could be listening.

Crosshair tense underneath you, muscles tightening against your legs, “Wrecker.” he seethed, using his brother’s full name.

Your face dropped, cheeks heating up. He was right, but hearing someone finally say it out loud made it worse. That was the real reason you had been dedicating so many weeks to studying. Even if Kix received a 45% and you an 80%, they would choose him over you. Clones were bred to be intelligent. You were just a girl who somehow got Senator Palpatine to assign you to a clone squadron.

You wiggled your way out from under Crosshair, stepping over the low crate of explosives and walking up the steps of the Marauder. It was cold inside but the chill felt so nice against your hot body.

In all honesty, you wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your room and bawl your eyes out until you physically couldn’t produce tears anymore. But you knew you couldn’t, that would be showing weakness.

Soft footsteps echoed behind you, Cross’s monotone voice ringing in your ears shortly after, “he didn’t mean that.”

You shook your head, “No no, he’s right.”

He took a few steps towards you, gently reaching for your wrist and pulling you into him. He rested his chin on your head, “you’ll do great on the exam.”

You pushed off of him, needing a bit of air to keep from crying. You shook your wrists out and looked up at the ceiling, it helped a little bit. “Just nervous.” you muttered.

He stayed silent, not exactly sure how to comfort you. Words frequently failed him and in the rare occasion that you were upset Tech was able to calm you down, but not this time. Crosshair wanted to make you feel better, no matter what it took.

You hated being this vulnerable around anyone, the panic in your stomach growing every second of silence that passed.

Taking a deep breath, you began to walk past him, “I need to go, you have more important things to-”

He caught your bicep and spun you back around, other hand holding the small of your back as he kissed you. It was a deep, passionate, yet chaste, kiss. You melted into his grip, leaning backwards to force his lips onto yours more. You held the sides of his face, the small scruff on his jaw feeling immaculate against your own.

He rested your foreheads together and quietly, barely audibly, whispered, “you’re the only thing that matters.”

You were about to kiss him again when Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker walked through the door.

Hunter smiled, “Guess who’s got a new nurse on the team.”

Your head cocked to the side, Wrecker looking like he was about to explode from excitement at any moment. “We do!” he bellowed, “and it’s you!”

Mouth hanging open, you looked from Crosshair to the other three. “What?”

“Welcome to Clone Force 99, medic.” Hunter answered proudly.

#clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper wrecker #clone trooper tech #clone trooper echo #badbatch #bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch x reader

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mr-lancers-english-class · 2 years

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The Roommate

Chapter 5: The Lair

ao3

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The next day, Jay woke up to an empty dorm. Not that he noticed. He barely noticed anything all day. The only thing he could find in himself to do was count down the hours until five o’clock.

It was 11:17am. Psych 101. Five hours and forty three minutes. Three hundred and forty three minutes to go. Twenty thousand five hundred and sixty five seconds. Sixty four seconds. Sixty three seconds. Be ready for a quiz in your discussion section on Friday. Twenty thousand five hundred and forty eight seconds. Forty seven. Forty six.

It was 1:42pm. Inquiry-Based Writing for Science Majors. Three hours and eighteen minutes to go. One hundred and ninety eight minutes. Eleven thousand eight hundred and seventy nine seconds. Paper due next Tuesday. Seventy seven seconds. Do a peer review. Seventy five seconds. Seventy four. Three. Two.

It was 2:01pm. Intro to Ectobiology. Two hours and fifty nine minutes. Guest speakers coming in on Monday. One hundred and seventy nine minutes. Doctor and Doctor Fenton. Ten thousand seven hundred and forty seconds. Come prepared with questions. Ten million seven hundred thirty eight thousand milliseconds. Might be a pop quiz on their lecture content. Two hours fifty eight minutes and forty three seconds. Don’t forget to read their latest paper. Fuck that. Ten thousand seven hundred and three seconds. Probably gonna read it anyway. Two hours and fifty eight minutes and one second. Biased bullshit, but they’re still leaders in the field. Gonna need to know what they’re working to be able to prove them wrong. Ten thousand six hundred and seventy two seconds. Seventy one. Seventy.

It was 4:37pm. Ectobiology discussion. Twenty two minutes and twelve seconds. Oh look at that. Secretary of the Ghost Hunter’s club decided to show up today. Twenty two minutes and nine seconds. Jerkwad had the worst attendance out of the whole class. One thousand three hundred and twenty seven seconds. Six. Five. Θεους, αυτη η ηλιθια. Why the fuck is this sort of stuff acceptable in this class. One thousand three hundred and twenty seconds. The TA is nodding along. Twenty one minutes and fifty six seconds. Προκατειλημμένο γαμ. Isn’t their job to facilitate discussion, not just agree with the leading (only) voices in the field? Twenty one minutes and fifty two seconds. Fifty one. Fifty.

It was 4:58pm.

Jay was sprinting across campus. He had two minutes (one minute and forty seven seconds) until Danny was expecting him in the basement of Moore Hall. The Ectobio discussion had gotten out late. He was supposed to have ten minutes to make the seven minute walk from the chemistry building to Moore. Instead, he’d been given three. Now he was down to two (one minute thirty three seconds). He wouldn’t let himself be late.

He kinda wondered what he looked like to the rest of the people meandering around campus, clutching his bag to his chest and sprinting across the quad. It was the end of October. Anyone foolish enough to schedule two classes this close together in buildings this far apart had long since stopped trying to show up on time, he knew that. He also knew that most people didn’t bother taking direct routes, even if they were sprinting to class. Most people would walk around the brick walls lining the paths, or maybe climb them with care. They were only three feet up, holding back the mounds of dirt from where hills had been excavated to make walking easier, but most people didn’t feel the need to go over them. Jay was not most people, and found himself leaping over them without stumbling or slowing. Three feet up was nothing. He’d been a jumper in high school. Track and field for two years before the old coach got hired by a better school and the new coach was a total asshat. He landed the jump and immediately went into a wild dodge to not trample through a tour group.

It was 4:59pm. Jay slammed through the back door of Moore Hall at top speed. He had less than a minute (seventeen seconds). Two people threw themselves out of his way, leaning into the wall to avoid his wild flight. He took a sharp turn at speed, almost barrelled over a kind-looking older woman with a cane, did a tight spin around her, bounced off the wall, and rebounded into the stairwell door. He took them down to the basement two at a time, jumping the bottom four at once. A brief stumble, almost falling to the ground, then he was up again and through the doorway labeled MAINTENANCE. The door crashed open, slamming into the wall with a clang as Jay dove through it, turned to his left, paused, kept turning left back past the door he’d just come through and– there! Oh yeah, Danny had said it was to the right, oops.

It was 5:00pm (and thirteen seconds). Jay took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair so it looked slightly less like he’d just sprinted the third of a mile across campus that he actually had, and opened the door.

“–swear to god, Ember said– oh hey Jay!” Danny called across the room, raising a hand in greeting. “You’re right on time, dude. C’mon over. I wanna introduce you to some people.” Jay took a moment to survey the room as he walked to his friend.

It might have once been a classroom, but had definitely been left alone for a few years since then. There were a few desks left, the little rickety ones only designed around righties with the half-sized writing surface attached to the chair, but they had all been shoved against the walls. At the end of the room Danny was occupying, there were a number of bean bags and lightly-battered rocking chairs in a little circle. The wall behind them had a little folding table with a baby toaster oven, an electric kettle, and a microwave; what was either a large minifridge or a small regular fridge sat in the corner next to the table. A tall wire shelf at the other end of the table was jam-packed with bags of chips, boxes of protein and breakfast bars, more coffee than even Jay could consume in a month, a few loaves of bread, and a pile of microwave popcorn bags. The smaller shelf next to it held a rather distressing first aid kit, all neatly organized in labeled plastic boxes. One of them appeared to be full of nothing but bandaids, which felt pretty standard, but at least two of them said IF STABBED in large, blocky letters, and another simply said BULLETS.

Those were jokes, right?

“Welcome to The Lair, Jay.” Danny had stood up to give Jay a good solid Bro Hug. Jay wasn’t sure when they had reached that point in their friendship, but he didn’t dislike it. “Everyone, this is Jay. He’s my, uh, he’s my coffee friend. Jay, this is everyone.” Danny gestured to the small group spread out across the bean bags, rocking chairs, and the floor.

“Hey, I’m Val.” An imposing black woman stood to offer Jay her hand. She was shorter than him by at least half a foot, but Jay would honestly say that she looked like she could bench more than he could. “Glad you could make it. Danny’s– well, let’s just say he’s told us a lot about you.”

“Nice to meet you Val.” Jay glanced at Danny. “All good things?” Val snorted.

“Honestly? Mostly no. Not until yesterday night.”

“I– what?” Jay stared at her in confusion.

“What Val should be saying,” another voice piped up, “if she felt like at least pretending to be polite, is that we had heard you were with the Ghost Hunter’s club.” Jay found himself facing a girl who looked surprisingly similar to Danny. Roommate Danny, that is. Same hair, same eyes, same height, same curve to the nose except hers didn’t look like it had been broken multiple times. “We don’t really like the Ghost Hunter’s club.”

“That’s fair. They suck.” The girl laughed at that, a deep full-body laugh. Once she’d taken a second to collect herself, she also offered her hand out to Jay. He shook it, and almost winced at her grip strength.

“Danielle. Danielle Walker. If I decide we can be friends, you’ll get nickname privileges.”

“It’s nice to meet you Danielle. Hey this is totally random, but are you by any chance related to Danny?” Jay could have sworn someone else in the room giggled, but he wasn’t sure who.

“Am I related to Danny? I mean–”

“Ack, wait, sorry to cut you off. Shit, this is gonna be confusing. Not– not Coffee Danny. Roommate Danny. Fenton Danny. Wait, no, Danny Fenton. Are you related to Danny Fenton? You look a lot like him.” Whoever had been trying to hide their giggles had given up on that and just let loose with full laughter.

“Coffee Danny?” Danielle turned towards Danny over Jay’s shoulder and gave him an amused look. “Is that your name now?”

“Not the worst I’ve gotten,” Danny hummed.

“Fair enough,” Danielle winked at him. “And to answer you, Jay, yes we are related. Cousins, on our mothers’ side. Well, sort of. It’s complicated.”

“Yeah yeah, everyone knows all the Dannys, good for you. Now move over, Ellie. I wanna actually meet the new guy now.” Another voice spoke up, and Danielle got shoved lightly aside with a laugh by a tall white guy with bright red hair who also looked suspiciously like Roommate Danny. “Wes Weston at your service.”

“Wes… Weston?”

“My parents think they’re funny.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Wes.” After a pause, Jay decided fuck it, he had to know. “Um, are you also related to Roommate Danny?”

“Nah. I’m convinced we’re like second or third cousins or something but he says no dice. Probably for the best. I don’t think I could deal with any of the Fenton-level crazy for more than a few hours.”

“Weakass!” Danny yelled from his perch on the back of a rocking chair. Wes held up a hand in pause, patted around his pockets in confusion, seemed to find what he was looking for, reached his other hand into the pocket and pulled it out to flip Danny the bird while he stuck his tongue out. Danny glared back, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he had fallen off the back of the rocking chair laughing. Turning back to Jay with a laugh of his own, Wes continued.

“Anyway, it’s good to have you down to The Lair. Despite what Val may have implied, Danny has spoken pretty highly of you.”

“But only in the last day?” Jay raised an eyebrow.

“Well… I mean yeah, but by Danny’s standards it was pretty high praise.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, Danny.”

“Of course, dude.” Danny had recovered and was now standing next to Jay. “We’re friends. I, uh, I was kinda scared to get too close with you before, but I’m really glad that we talked last night. Ghosts are–” Danny winced. “They’re a bit of a hot-button issue around here, and you’ve said you’re an ectobio major and I just kinda assumed, well, heh, y’know.”

“Yeah, no, I get it. I mean, I don’t blame you. For assuming. I haven’t met anyone else in the major who thinks ghosts are anything other than the scum of the Earth. Besides you. I think. But you aren’t in the major, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“Nah, none of us are ectobio,” Danny said with a smile.

“But!” Danielle jumped in. “We are all an itty bitty teensy weensy bit more sympathetic to ghosts than most folks around here. On account of, well, some stuff.”

“Do… do I get to know what that some stuff is?”

“Maybe,” Val answered for Danielle. “But that’s for later. For now, welcome to the Ghost’s Lair, glad to have you in the squad, and can we all please sit down and shut up? Pha– Danny over here was telling an absolutely riveting story about the time Ember bitch-slapped him last week.”

“She did not bitch-slap me!” Danny cried, throwing himself across the rocking chair. “It was a good, solid, musically-powered punch. A respectable punch.”

“Really? Cause the way Ember tells it, she walked right up to you and just– pop! Right across the face.” Wes joined Val in egging Danny on as he sat in a beanbag across from him. Val grabbed a thing of doritos from the snack shelf and sat next to Wes, offering the bag.

“It was a mistake introducing you two,” Danny deadpanned.

“Personally, I’m disappointed in you,” Danielle piped up, having taken up position lying upside down on a beanbag on the other side of Val. “I had twenty bucks that you’d at least try to dodge.”

“Wait what? Crime and Punishment you were betting on me? About this? With who?!”

“Ember and Kitty. They wanted to see who could ‘earn your trust’ or whatever first. E figured this would be some pretty definitive proof she had won.” Jay took a seat of his own on the other side of Wes as Danny erupted with cries of betrayal and treachery.

This little group of four–no, make it five now–was certainly odd. Jay wasn’t sure what to make of any of them, not yet. But, Danny was his friend. And Wes, Val, and Danielle? They were Danny’s friends, and it was obvious the four of them were close. There was something about them, the way they interacted, that Jay just knew came from years and years together. Jay was the outsider here.

Wes snatched the dorito’s bag from Val and held it out to Jay. She immediately dove across Wes to try and grab it back. Jay took the chance while he had it and grabbed a handful as Wes continued to fight Val off with just the one hand. Watching the two of them fight over the chips as Danny and Danielle fought over her business strategy of winning money off his misfortune and pain, Jay realized he didn’t want to be the outsider here.

These four playful, funny, snarky, ghost-sympathetic friends? Jay liked them already. And as Val finally managed to wrangle the bag out from Wes, pin him in a chokehold, and hold it open to Jay like he hadn’t just grabbed a handful already, Jay was pretty sure they liked him too.

#danny phantom #phic phight 2022 #phic phight #phic phight team human #my fic

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bugsy-maria · 3 years

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Sam x SISTER! Reader x Dean

this story is based off an event that happened to me recently. Again I will add tags and title when I get back home.

I sat at my desk staring at my computer. I was doing a review quiz for my physical science class on waves. I looked at the words confused as all hell. Every word looked the same and every question was worded almost the same. My digits were lost in my hair. Tears rimmed my eyes, threatening to spill over the edge. Most hunters wouldn’t care about passing classes with flying colours, but see my older brother Sam wants me to get into a good college and get out of the life. I don’t want to disappoint him so I have to pass. I’m scared that if I even get an A I’d be a disappointment. I’m so stressed and over whelmed that my skin has gotten bad, I haven’t been able to shower for a couple days cause I’m too focused on studying and doing my work that I forget about it. I barely eat anymore. AP has truly ruined me. I click what I think is the answer but fail at the answer is refraction not rarefaction. They are the same word I swear to god. My vision gets blurry and a tear runs down my face as I start to find it harder to contain. I hear a knock on my door, making me quickly wipe my eyes, clear my throat and speak,

“Yes?”

“I heard your distress.” The door opened to reveal Castiel.

“It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand and smiled as he made his way into my room, closing the door behind him.

“You’re lying.” The simple phrase left his vessel so smooth. He looked over my shoulder. “You got a question wrong.” When he said it, it sounded like disappointment.

“I know.” I clicked on the ok button and continued. With cas looking over my shoulder, it seemed harder. I clicked if diffusion but got it wrong was it was reflection this time. My hands fell into my lap and my knuckles tightened till they turned pure white and my nails were now imbedded in my palm.

“You got it wrong again.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Is something wrong?”

“What do you think!” I yelled at him. I’ve never did that before, it felt wrong. But I couldn’t help it, every time he said I was wrong I felt stupid and like a failure. But how was he supposed to know how to read human emotions?

“You’re not stupid you know.”

“They think that.”

“No they don’t. Here let me help, when’s your test?”

“No I don’t need help, I’m fine.” I said.

“I can-“

“Get out please.” I said calmly. He obeyed and left. But before he did, “Don’t tell Sam or Dean about this.” He only nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

-ONE-WEEK-LATER-

I came back home holding my graded science test. Ashamed of the grade I have gotten. I walk in and quickly fold my test and shove it in my pocket.

“How was school?” Sam asked, he stood up from his chair in the library. Walking to me when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

“It was ok. We had a sub in math so I got to study for the test tomorrow, but people were talking pretty loud so it was kind of hard.” I told him trying to keep my mind off the ashamed pice of paper in my pocket. He walked to me and held out his hand.

“Your test.”

“What test?” I tried to pretend that I had no clue on what he was talking about.

“Just give it to me.” His tone was harsher this time around. I sighed and took the paper out of my pocket. I handed him the folded test to him. My hands shake violently and my head hangs low. He looks at the test, eye brows furrowed. “What does that say?”

“87.” I mumble

“Don’t mumble.” His voice gets harsher every time he speaks.

“87.” I say louder but still a little quiet. The next 10 minutes was filled with shouts from Sam. Tears streamed down my face, I was hyperventilating and could barely see the floor I stood upon.

“Why are you yelling up here?” I heard Dean’s voice and instantly got scared thinking about what he would think of me after he finds out.

“Do got want to tell him or should I?” His words dripped with venom, and after a bit of my not answering he told Dean. “She got an 87 on her test today.”

“Really? That’s so good baby girl!” Dean ran up to me and hugged me. I was surprised by the action.

“Dean that’s not appropriate.”

“What do you mean it’s not, she got a good grade, that’s to be congratulated.”

“It’s not if she now has a lower shot at getting into Harvard.”

“When has she ever talked about going to college?”

“She doesn’t have to I already decided that she would go to Harvard.”

“You decided for her?”

“We. We decided she’d go there.” All of the loud talking didn’t help my panic attack and my crying. I got light headed and passed out. All I saw was black.

I woke up to a warm feeling filling me. I looked to my side seeing,I was now on the coach, Sam with his head in his hands and a disappointed look sketched into his face.

“What happened?” When I asked this sams head flew into the air.

“I’m so so sorry (Y/N) I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Please forgive me.”

“Maybe in time.”

#SPN #spn fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #x reader #xreader #reader insert #sam x reader #dean winchester #sam whinchester #dean x reader #spnfandom #supernatural fandom

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stilinskishit · 4 years

Text

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 9

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison @purple286 @multifandxm353 @bralessandflawless

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post this, I haven’t really been in the mood to write. That’s why this part was sort of short, but I’m trying to get back into the swing of things and writing more often!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 9 - Shin

Season 2, Episodes 1 and 2

Ramie had spent most of her time since leaving the hospital, back at the hospital with Lydia. Since Lydia’s wounds were much more severe than Ramie’s she was stuck there for much longer, and Ramie didn’t want to leave her friend’s side. Any time she wasn’t with Lydia, she spent with Isaac. Ramie and Isaac hadn’t talked much about the night of formal, Ramie was still shaken up over the whole thing and Isaac didn’t push. The two were practically dating at that point, just without the label to make it official.

Things for Scott and Allison however, were not going smoothly. Allison had told Ramie that her Dad had caught her and Scott together and freaked out, threatening Scott and basically breaking the two of them up. However, the two of them were still sneaking around together. Therefore, when Lydia disappeared screaming, literally, from the hospital one night, she called Allison and told her and Scott to get to the hospital as soon as they could. Stiles, whom she had called first, was already pulling into the parking lot not long after.

“Did you get it?” He asked as Ramie hopped into the jeep. Ramie held up the hospital gown Lydia had left behind. She had been taking a shower when she took off from the hospital, and Scott requested something to catch her scent with, so they could try to track her down.

Ramie’s phone buzzed with a text from Isaac as soon as Scott pulled up. He said he needed to talk to her, asking if she was busy. She said she’d call him later, and briefly explained the Lydia situation. He told her not to worry about him.

Ramie, not worrying about it, then found herself hiding in the woods from Allison’s father, while Scott was hanging from a trap he had set. Allison’s dad, thinking Lydia had been turned by Peter, was also searching for their lost friend. However, by the next day at school, Lydia was still missing. Ramie begged Melissa to let her go looking for her friend, but Melissa insisted the police had everything covered and Ramie had to attend school. Stiles informed Ramie and Scott when they got to school that morning that someone had dug up a gravesite the previous night, and ate the liver of a body. They were convinced it was Lydia, and that she was turning into a wolf.

“It’s causing me severe mental anguish to admit this but he’s right,” Stiles whispered up to Scott during Harris’ class. Ramie narrowed her eyes from next to him.

“Who’s right?”

“Jackson,” Stiles nodded towards the boy sitting a few rows behind them, while Scott agreed. “The next time she steals an organ from someone they’re probably gonna be alive.”

“This is a pop quiz Mr. Stilinksi, not a group project,” Harris’ voice came from the front of the room. “If I hear your voice again I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career.”

“Can you do that?” Stiles shot back, and Ramie kicked his shin under the table, begging him to shut up.

“There it is again, your voice,” Harris continued. “Triggering the only time I’ve ever wanted to strike a student repeatedly, and violently." Ramie could hear Jackson and Danny snickering behind them, and she shot them a look. Danny gave a forgiving smile but Jackson just smirked.

“I’ll see you at 3 for detention,” Harris said to Stiles. Scott turned to look at Stiles’ and Ramie rolled her eyes. “You too Mr. McCall? Ramona?”

“No sir,” Ramie said, turning back to her quiz while Scott shook his head. She heard Stiles and Scott laughing quietly.

“Ramona,” Stiles whispered teasingly, which earned him another kick to the shin.

…

Late that night after being a good friend and going to Allison’s aunt’s funeral, despite the fact that Ramie knew she was a psychotic werewolf killer, and meeting Allison’s creepy grandfather, Ramie went to Derek’s for another training session. Once Stiles had called Ramie and told her that they had found Lydia and she was safe, Ramie headed to Derek’s. They had been training regularly since they started, not long after Scott was bitten, and Ramie felt like she was really getting the hang of things.

“So, Allison’s grandfather is the new hunter in town,” Ramie panted as she threw a punch at Derek, and successfully ducked from him throwing one back. Derek nodded, attempting to grab her wrist, but Ramie twisted away, causing Derek to slip to the side. Ramie threw another punch and this one hit Derek straight in the nose, as he was distracted by someone yelling his name.

“Jesus, McCall,” Derek groaned, holding his nose. “You got me good.” Ramie opened and closed her throbbing hand as the person who was yelling to Derek came into view, and it was probably the last person Ramie expected.

“Isaac?” Ramie stepped towards the curly haired boy.

“Ramie,” he stammered. “What are you going here?”

“I might ask you the same question,” Ramie said, grabbing gauze from a table near Derek, and beginning to wrap her now bloody and definitely bruised hand.

“Isaac’s with me now,” Derek said, almost smugly.

“With you?” Ramie raised her eyebrows, looking between the two. Isaac looked at the ground. “Isaac please don’t tell me-“

“He’s my beta,” Derek cut her off. Ramie’s mouth dropped open. She looked to Isaac, who finally met her eyes.

“He offered it to me and I accepted,” Isaac explained quickly. “I know about your brother and Lydia and everything.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Ramie stepped towards him, arms crossed over her chest.

“I tried to the other night,” he shrugged. Ramie opened her mouth to fire back, but realized he was right. He had asked to talk to her when Lydia went missing.

“While I’d love to sit here and listen to this lover’s quarrel I’d like to know why you’re here suddenly,” Derek’s voice came from behind the two of them. Ramie jumped slightly, forgetting he was there.

“It’s my Dad,” Isaac said. “I think something killed him. And I swear it wasn’t me.”

Issac explained to Derek that he was having dinner with his Dad when he got violent, throwing plates at Isaac, and Isaac took off. He explained that he had then found his Dad’s body in his car in an alleyway, and it was torn apart. Derek left almost immediately to go check out the body, leaving Isaac and Ramie alone.

“You could’ve told me you know,” Ramie said, sitting down against one of the old subway cars that were in Derek’s lair. Isaac slid down next to her. “About your Dad hitting you.”

“You have enough on your plate,” he gave her a small smile. She grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked after a minute. Isaac shook his head.

“Why are you here?” He changed the subject. “And why did I walk in to you punching Derek?”

“Derek’s been training me to fight,” Ramie explained. “And Scott doesn’t know, so please don’t tell him.”

“Your brother isn’t gonna be very happy when he finds that out,” Isaac smirked at her. “And he also won’t be happy to hear you’re dating me, and I’m with Derek.” “Which is why we keep that from him for as long as possible,” Ramie told him, ruffling his hair as she stood up. He followed her over to the couch, where she grabbed her backpack. “And why I need to get home before it gets too late. You sure you’re okay?”

Isaac’s bright blue eyes met hers, as he grabbed her waist. He leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips.

“Promise,” he whispered, as their lips broke apart. “My Dad was horrible. I’m just gonna wait here until Derek gets back.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Ramie told him. He nodded, giving her another quick kiss before she turned, leaving him alone.

…

“When were you going to tell me that you’re dating a fucking werewolf,” Scott seethed as he caught Ramie in the halls the next day at school. “A werewolf who is now going to jail because the police think he murdered his father,” Stiles butted in, throwing his hands in the air. Ramie shushed both of them, looking around. No one seemed to notice the angry boys, but Ramie tugged them into an empty classroom, just in case, closing the door behind them.

“Oh, and Allison’s grandfather is apparently the principal now,” Stiles said as the door shut. Scott sent him a look that clearly meant to shut up. Ramie sighed.

“I only found out last night,” Ramie said, answering their questions from before and ignoring Stiles’ comment about Gerard Argent. “How did you find out?”

“I could smell him,” Scott explained. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Isaac asked me not to,” Ramie lied. Scott’s eyes narrowed at her, but he didn’t push any further. “And I heard about the police taking him.”

“They haven’t left yet,” Scott said. Stiles was surprisingly quiet.

“I called Derek,” Ramie said, before thinking. Scott’s eyes narrowed and Ramie continued before he could ask any more questions. “Tonight’s the full moon and we need to get him out before then.”

“I have detention,” Stiles said, holding up his hands and looking at the clock.

“Call us after,” Ramie told him, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Scott asked, following behind her.

“To get Isaac out,” she replied, running down the hall. She could her Scott following behind her as she pushed opened the front doors of the school. Derek was parked out front.

“You’re going with him?” Scott called after her. Ramie ignored him, opening the door to Derek’s car.

“Get in,” Derek said to Scott through the open window.

“Are you serious,” Scott groaned back, pointing towards the police car that just took Isaac away. “You did that, that’s your fault.”

“I know that,” Derek admitted. “Now get in the car and help us.”

“How about I go get a lawyer, someone who actually has a chance of getting him out before tonight?” Scott stepped closer to the car.

“Not when they do a search of his house,” Derek said. Scott looked confused. “Whatever Jackson told the police, what’s in that house is way worse, trust me.”

Scott stood still for a second, near the car now. Ramie looked at him with pleading eyes. He groaned, moving down the rest of the steps and opening the car door, Ramie hopping in the back to let him in.

After showing Scott the freezer that Isaac’s dad used to lock his son in, Scott was convinced that helping Derek break Isaac out was the right move. However, he stayed behind to use said freezer to lock himself up for the full moon. Allison was meeting him there and was going to chain him in. Stiles met Derek and Ramie at the police station, the latter two getting in the jeep when they got there.

“Alright, so, the keys to all the cells are in a lockbox in my Dad’s office,” Stiles explained. “We just need to get past the front desk, and get there before the fake cop the Argent’s sent gets there.”

“Fake cop?” Ramie asked.

“Allison slowed him down, don’t worry,” Stiles shrugged it off. Ramie wanted to ask more questions but let the two of them continue.

“It’s no problem,” Derek said, going to open the door. “I’ll distract the lady at the front desk.”

“You? You’re not going in there,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s arm. Derek looked between Stiles’ face and his grip on his arm. “I’m taking my hand off.”

“He was exonerated,” Ramie defended Derek from the back seat.

“He’s a person of interest,” Stiles turned towards her, sending her a glare.

“An innocent person,” Derek corrected. Ramie nodded as Stiles looked between the two of them.

“An? In-? You? Yeah, right,” Stiles stuttered, eyebrows raised. Derek deadpanned back him. “Okay, fine. What’s your plan?”

“To distract her,” Derek said again.

“By punching her in the face?”

“By talking to her,” Derek seethed at Stiles.

“Okay, how? Give me a sample, what are you gonna open with,” Stiles questioned him. Derek was quiet, glaring at Stiles. “Silence, that’s a great idea, it’ll work flawlessly, I’m sure. Any other ideas?”

“I’m thinking about punching you in the face,” Derek started.

“Let’s just go,” Ramie said to the two of them, getting out of the jeep and walking towards the building so they had no choice but to follow her.

When they got inside, Derek’s tactic of flirting with the officer at the front desk actually worked quite well, and Ramie and Stiles managed to sneak into Sheriff Stilinksi’s office.

However, once Stiles opened the lockbox, the keys were nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered. “We need to go tell Derek.”

Ramie nodded, following him out the door and running straight into him in the hallway when he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Jesus Sti, what are you,” Ramie started, then trailed off as she looked up and saw what Stiles was staring at. A man in a cop’s uniform, and a broken arrow in his leg, was standing in the hallway, staring down the two of them. Before Ramie could react, the man grabbed Stiles, dragging him down the hallway. She chased after the two of them, but the man shoved her, knocking her to the ground, her head smacking the wall. She laid on the ground for a second, blinking. Her head was pounding, but she leapt up when the fire alarm started to go off, running towards where the man had dragged Stiles. She ran into the room just as Isaac appeared, pushing the man who was standing over Stiles on the ground. Issac, in wolf form, pushed the man into the wall, as Ramie grabbed Stiles, who pulled the two of them into a corner away from Isaac and the man struggling.

Issac smashed the man’s head into the wall, knocking him out, falling limp to the ground. Issac turned, growling towards Stiles and Ramie as Derek entered the room, stepping on the syringe that the man had been carrying. Issac stepped towards Ramie and Stiles, Stiles grabbing Ramie and pulling her closer, shielding her body with his. However, Derek stepped in, roaring at Isaac who then instantly cowered to the ground, turning back to human, shaking and sweating.

“How did you do that?” Stiles asked, looking between Derek and Isaac.

“I’m the alpha,” Derek explained, a smirk on his face. Issac, looking terrified, looked up at Derek, then over to Ramie.

“Ramie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” he started, visibly shaking, but Derek cut him off.

“We need to get you out of here,” he grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him up and the two of them took off, out of the station. Stiles stood up, pulling Ramie to her feet as well.

“You really should break up with him,” Stiles told her. “He could’ve killed us.”

“And Scott could kill us too,” Ramie shot back. Stiles opened his mouth to fight back but there were footsteps behind them. Noah came into view, looking between the two of them, Issac’s empty cell, and the fake cop knocked out on the ground. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at the two of them. Stiles turned, looking too at the cell and the guy on the ground.

“Uh, he did it,” Stiles pointed at the unconscious man on the ground. Noah sighed again, and Ramie had to bite her lip from smiling at Sties’ horrible excuse.

#stiles stilinski fanfic #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski #Isaac lahey #scott mccall #derek hale #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf one shot #Isaac lahey one shot #teen wolf imagine #season 2 #omega #shape shifted

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marsmoonqueen · 6 years

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Confessions and Advice

Archangel!Michael x Reader

Warning: Michael acting rude, and I think that’s it.

Prompt / Summary: Michael loves the reader, but he does not know how to act around her and ends up usually hurting her with his words. But what are brother for, if it is not to help?

Note: There is a second part called ‘A Divine Help’, but is not necessary to read this one to understande the other or viceversa.

Researching was an extremely important part of a hunter’s life, but it becomes an annoying work when is not the only thing you do.

Y/n was the Winchesters best friend since she was 16 and they helped her with a vampire nest; after that they were inseparable, they took her in and gave her not only a place to call “home”, but a family too.

Being part of the Winchester family had its cons and its perks; being a bookworm as the girl was, she decided that she wanted to finish her studies as a perk, and the boys agreed; thanks to them –especially Sam- now she was proudly going through University.

Anyway, this night was one of those she hated the most. Everybody was doing research: Sam, Dean, Castiel, Bobby, even Balthazar, Lucifer and Michael. But it was a waste of time, for anybody had luck.

The clock announced 3.15 AM to Y/n’s dismay: she had classes the next day and a quiz, rest was necessary, but there she was, reading a lore book in the bunker’s library next to the brothers and Cas, while the other three angels were out.

The 3 humans in the bunker were half sleep, ‘Finally’ she thought ‘Some sleep’ she was relaxing and was about to drift off when a light wind and a too familiar sound of wings alerted her; in front of her there were Lucifer, Michael and Balthazar in that order, standing.

When the eldest archangel saw her, his expression changed. “What are you doing here? Go to sleep now.” He told her as soon as their eyes met.

‘Ouch. Low Blow.’ She sadly thought, ‘Why does he have to be a bloody jerk?’ Now the anger overtook her. ‘I should be used to this rude behavior of his after all this time.’

Giving him an angry glare she said “Well, my time is up, Sam Dean, let’s go to sleep.” The girl stroked Sam’s hair and gently moved Dean’s shoulder, waking them up.

The brothers followed her out of the room and only when the door was closed Balthazar snapped.

“What the hell was that?!�� He yelled at Michael.

“What do you mean?” The archangel questioned him trying his hardest to look careless.

“I think he’s talking about how rudely you talked to your pretty crush.” Lucifer intervened.

“What?” He asked defensively. “She has school and a very important quiz tomorrow. I don’t want her to fail just because she was doing research, when I-we can do it.” He honestly replied.

“Why don’t you just told her that instead of sending her away?” Castiel spoke for the first time.

“She made me nervous okay? She just kept looking at me with those eyes of hers and I… I got nervous and said the first thing that I thought of… which was that she should be resting to pass her test.”

“Well, you will have to defeat those nerves if you want her to fall in love with you, idiot.” Balthazar replied, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

“How can I do that?” Michael asked, becoming anxious for once in his ‘life’. “How can I make her fall in love with me?”

“Maybe if you were more kind and nice with her, she would fall for you.” Castiel stepped closer to him and patted his left shoulder.

“Well, what can I do?” The eldest archangel wondered, gazing from Castiel’s hand to his eyes, then traveling to Lucifer’s and finally to Balthazar’s eyes, Y/n’s best friend.

Balthazar tried to ignore his pleading eyes, but failed. “Aggh! Fine! Stop looking at me with those eyes… Why don’t you just… do nice simple things to her? Like… passing her the top shelves’ cups, or serving her coffee, you can even wake her up in the morning like Sam, Gabe, Luce, Dean, Cas and I do.”

“Sounds… fine.” Michael answered, a little more relaxed.

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps bros, if Michael wake her up tomorrow she is going to break his nose because of what he just told her, so, forget that for a while.” Lucifer intervened. “And yeah, yeah, all of that is nice but you have to do something else, something to make her know that you are hopelessly in love with her… like I dunno… Buying her the books she likes or… cooking food for her, you can do that ‘Netflix’ thing with her.”

“Okay, okay” Michael said, trying to memorize the information.

“What about flowers? Humans seem to like them.” Cas contributed.

“Y/n is not the flower type.”

“Of course she is!”

“Well, what about chocolates?”

“Who do you think she is? Gabriel? No! That’s too easy, he has to do something bigger!”

Michael’s head was literally rolling, what should he do? He always acted like a selfish jerk to her. Who was he kidding? She would never love him.

He walked out of the room without his brothers noticing. When he got out of the bunker, and ten minutes of intense self-blaming passed, he found himself in a beautiful park. His first thought was ‘Has Y/n ever been in here? I bet she would love this place.’

“What is disturbing your mind big bro?”

The archangel turner around to find a busy Gabriel eating a chocolate bar. Michael didn’t speak a word.

“C’mon, tell me.” Gabe insisted, trying to make him say what he –among other angels- already knew.

“Y/n.” The eldest mumbled.

“Y/n what?”

“I… I like her but-”

“Just like her?” The trickster interrupted him with a serious expression painted in his features.

“No. I love her, but she hates me!”

“Why would that be?” He asked rolling his eyes. “Maybe because you are a jerk with her or maybe because you act like a selfish bag of dicks every time she is near.”

“Keep your comments to yourself Gabriel. I know I’m a… son of a bitch? With her… and I know there is no way in hell, heaven, earth or purgatory to make her love me. But that does not mean that I’m going to stop wishing she was mine!”

Gabe inspected his brother, he looked hopeless and desperate, but more than that, he seemed truthfully in love with the girl. His eyes had that spark, his cheeks were crimson red and… and his expression was a true love poem; if he could just put those words he spoke into actions, damn, Gabriel was sure the girl would fall head over heels in love with him.

“Maybe there is a way.” The younger archangel thoughtfully said. “C’mon big bro, we have some planning to do…”

Hours later Y/n woke up with her alarm’s help, after her initial concern about why nobody came to wake her as they would usually do, she figured out that the boys should be sleeping and the angels researching.

After stretching, getting up from bed, and doing her morning ritual; she took her books-filled backpack and went to the kitchen for a well-deserved breakfast.

She could hear voices but as she stepped closer to the kitchen’s door, the voices became whispers, until she was in it and the five angels stopped talking at all.

Castiel was in the farthest head of the table, talking to Balthazar who was at his right side; after an empty seat besides Balthazar, Gabriel was sitting eating a chocolate bar as he read a gossip magazine. Lucifer passed in front of her with a warm smile and a cup of coffee in a hand, while with the other he petted her hair as a greeting.

“Hi Cas, Balthazar, good morning Gabe and Luce.” She said with a tired smile looking at them as they reciprocated it and continued with their doings.

“Good morning Y/n.” His voice made her look at her left side, there he was standing next to the coffee machine with a cup for himself in hand.

Suspiciously raising one brow she responded “Good morning Michael.”

He smiled shyly “How did you slept? Would you fancy a cup of coffee before heading to school?”

“Yeah, please. I slept fine, thank you.” She skeptically responded, walking closer to him.

Michael’s smile got wider and happier as he opened the top cabinet and took her favorite cup, pouring the caffeinated substance in it to then prepare it to her liking, with half sugar and some milk.

“Here it goes.” He said as he turned around and gave her the cup. “That’s the way you like it, right?”

“Yeah… am yes, this is how I like it, thanks… again.” She responded, traveling her eyes from the cup to his eyes, getting lost in them with a frown but visibly relaxed.

“It’s okay.” He mumbled as he enjoyed the moment, exploring her eyes as it was the first time he had ever seen them.

Suddenly she realized the quiet of the room and turned her gaze to the four other angels who were intensely watching the scene, before pretending they weren’t.

Clearing her throat, she said “Well, thanks for the coffee, I better get going if I don’t want to lose my test, bye guys, have a nice day.”

The hunter tried to pass next to Michael, but unconsciously, his hand traveled to her arm in a gently movement.

“Hey Y/n… I know you don’t need it, but… good luck.” Then he placed his lips in her left cheek, making her blush at the contact.

“Thanks Michael.” Was the last thing she whispered before running out of the kitchen to get to her car.

Only when he heard her car start, he turned to his brothers who were wearing proud smiles and nodded their approval.

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monkeysatemylastrolo · 6 years

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Safehouse Ch.2

(Previous chapter) (More to come. Eventually.)

Previously: Sam came to the decision that Dean’s abusive behaviour to Jack wasn’t something Jack deserved to be around, so he and Jack left and moved to an old Campbell cabin in Montana. This chapter covers their first week there.

The next week passed with surprising ease. On the day after their arrival, Sam got them both up early and, leaving the car from the Bunker covered, they hiked to the nearest town and travelled (using several buses) to meet up with a woman Sam had found on something called “craigslist.” The cheap, slightly rickety car they bought from her (a preventative measure, Sam said, to ensure Dean couldn’t ‘track their plates’) made the trip back to the cabin much easier- and proved even more useful when they stopped along the way to stock up on food, bottled water and various fruit juices. Then, later that evening, Jack watched as Sam checked, repainted, and improved on the cabin’s wards, listening intently as the older man explained what each design meant, and what they either defended against or shielded them from.

After that, and for the first time since before he had first heard the all-encompassing screeching of Angel Radio, it wasn’t long before Jack started to feel somewhat solid and safe. Discussions about the wards led to discussions about his powers and, from there, to Sam clearing up the ‘Interdimensional Can Opener’ comment which had been pressing at the back corners of Jack’s mind ever since he’d heard it. With a new understanding of why Sam had been so eager for him to train (and a new sense of freedom in it when Sam also told him that he didn’t have to train- or help- if he didn’t want to), Jack, fuelled by a new sense of clear purpose, threw himself back into the (admittedly still frustrating) exercise of trying to master his latent skills. For one hour every morning, and one every evening, he worked under Sam’s tutelage, fine-tuning his control over the pencil. By day three, he could use it to write large, shaky letters in one of the notepads they’d bought just for this purpose. By day five, those letters had become smoother. Smaller. By day seven, Sam announced that he thought it wouldn’t be long before they could move onto larger items (and, further down the line, to more complicated tasks).

In between the training, they had plenty of downtime. Jack continued to work steadily through the Harry Potter books, while also watching the ‘Clone Wars’ series recommended to him by Netflix. Sam spent his time either on his laptop, reading from the large collection of texts lining the cabin, or working through his daily exercise routine. And, in the midst of all that, they talked. About anything and everything, really- whatever came to mind. The ever-changing order of Jack’s list of favourite foods (though nougat still remained firmly at the top). The moral strengths and weaknesses of the Jedi Order. The life cycles of everything from the yellow-breasted birds (Western Meadowlarks, a google search informed them) which sometimes flew nearby, to the very stars themselves. Sam was knowledgeable about any number of topics, Jack quickly discovered, and what the Hunter didn’t know he was always more than happy for them to research together.

It was during one such discussion on the fourth day, while Sam was telling Jack about which creatures from Harry Potter he knew to be real (and how they differed from their book counterparts), that the subject of potentially going Hunting first came up. Sam seemed uncertain at first- that distant, mournful expression which always cropped up when something reminded him of his brother returning in full force- but nonetheless, after a few minutes of silent consideration, he admitted that maybe going out in the field would help Jack not only to see more of both the world’s good side and its bad, but might also help him in mastering his skills.

Which was why, from that day forth, a third ‘training’ session was added to the afternoons. Sam would provide a topic, or introduce a particular computer skill and, at the end of the hour, Jack would perform whatever test (whether it be a verbal quiz or a demonstration of his digital ability) Sam thought necessary to check his progress.

And every single part of it was fascinating. The monsters. The patterns. The stories of old Hunts. (Sam was always careful to stress the importance of nuance, though. No case, he said, was entirely black and white. Even ‘monsters’ had their reasons most of the time, and neither of them should ever let themselves forget that. Remembering how Sam had tried to defend him against Dean’s and Donatello’s judgements, and how eager that had made him to prove Sam right, Jack could say quite easily that he agreed with the sentiment.)

So yes, overall, and much to Jack’s surprise, days spent in the cabin could quite reasonably be described as… fun

The same could not be said, however, for the nights.

Jack found the nights… hard. It was more difficult, somehow, to keep hold of that secure sensation he felt during their daytime activities when all of that ground to a halt and, all alone in his room, the darkness wormed its slimy way in. His body grew too tense, his mind too cluttered. Every flutter of wings from the birds outside marked the arrival of another Angel- another piercing Voice ready to drive him to his knees. Every flicker of light was Asmodeus’ eyes, the Demon come to slither his way in and trick Jack again with more false promises of redemption and peace. Every shifting shadow was Dean, emerging from the dark with Fury in his eyes and a weapon of untold power in his hands. Every whisper of wind was filled with hissed accusations, his mother and Castiel calling from beyond the grave to taunt him with their disappointment- their certainty that they had been mistaken all along, and that he had always been destined to fail and fall and turn.

And every hoot or chatter or croak carried in on that wind was Lucifer. Agreeing. Laughing.

Jack really hated nights.

Despite that fact, however- despite the seemingly endless hours it took for sleep to finally claim him each time- Jack found that he didn’t want to mention any of his fears to Sam. Not because he thought the Hunter wouldn’t help (on the contrary, he was fairly certain Sam would do every single thing in his power to fix it), but because… he didn’t want to hurt Sam. He knew how much Sam loved his brother. He knew how much it pained him to have made the choice to move away. And he also knew that, somewhere down the line, Sam was hoping for a reconciliation. That he would never stop hoping for a reconciliation.

How could Jack possibly ruin that hope that by admitting that he was, if anything, even more scared of Dean now than he had been before?

It was on day eight, when Jack had just successfully answered Sam’s series of questions about how to identify, locate and stop ghosts, that he noticed Sam eyeing him steadily. Appraisingly. Instead of starting his usual pattern of closing (or bookmarking) the tags (and books) he had been using for his research, Jack halted instead, staring straight back.

“What is it?”

“How would you-” Cutting himself of with a bite to his lip, Sam studied Jack for a moment more before nodding to himself. “Do you think you’re ready to try going on a Hunt?”

Biting back his instinctive, enthusastic ‘yes’ (because he knew Sam was asking for a more deeply thought-out answer here), Jack considered it. Was he ready? Sam wouldn’t even be bringing this up if he hadn’t already found something he thought Jack could handle, but Sam didn’t know about all of the fears and weaknesses Jack was hiding from him…

He thought he’d be okay at night if Sam was in the same room (which would, he knew, be the case at any motel they stayed at), so hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue. But what if they got separated? And what if he lost control of his powers in some way? Just because he could control a pencil while in a quiet cabin, that didn’t mean the same would necessarily be true during the dangers of a Hunt.

On the other hand, though, what if he did have enough control? What if there was some person out there, right now, who Jack’s powers could save? What if going on a Hunt helped him master the next level of control even faster than they had thought? (He’d almost been able to open that pit for Asmodeus, after all, and his desire to help had been fuelling that.)

What if he gained enough control to help Sam get his mom back?

Squaring his shoulders, Jack looked Sam dead in the eye. “I don’t know,” he admitted truthfully. “But I’d like to try.”

The small, proud smile which tugged at Sam’s lips told him he’d answered correctly, and Jack felt his own face respond accordingly. A few moments later, Sam reached down to pick up his own laptop, propping it on one arm as he directed the screen in Jack’s direction. On it were two pages from the same online newspaper- the first with the headline ‘Local man murdered in home’ displayed in clear letters, the second ‘Local woman killed by dead son?’

“Then I guess we’re going to Madison,” Sam said.

(I know that it was originally Dean who found the Hunt in ‘The Big Empty,’ but in this story he’s kinda busy with other stuff. I did, however, decide to slightly adjust the timing so Sam found the Hunt a little later to make up for it- hence the second article.)

Thanks for reading!

#Safehouse #SPN fanfic #My fic #Sam Winchester #Sam is the best dad #Jack Kline #Jack is an innocent puppy #Please accept my humble offering

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tatooedlaura-blog · 7 years

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Eleventh Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth … Fourteenth … Fifteenth … Sixteenth … Seventeenth … Eighteenth … Nineteenth … Twentieth … Twenty-first … Twenty-second … Twenty-third

———————–

They’d been forced to leave northern Minnesota mid-February after Mulder caught one of his bosses staring longer than necessary and asking more personal questions than Mulder deemed appropriate for someone on the run from all kinds of law to be able to answer. Scully had quietly left with him at midnight, walking away from her job, her semi-friends and her identity as Ella Fargas, the nice janitor lady at the high school who hadn’t flinched, regardless of what she had to clean up, which impressed everyone at that school above and below the age of 18.

They’d learned, over the years, to keep everything packed up and ready to go. They didn’t have too many personal possessions but what they had, they didn’t want to lose. Scully’s suitcase contained her clothes, her carved chess set and the ornaments they’d collected while her backpack contained the monstrous medical exam and study book she’d received the previous Christmas from Mulder because ‘he didn’t want her to lose all those smarts she had’. In Mulder’s suitcase and backpack were his laptop which they’d saved months for and gave him access to the world, articles, newspapers, the Internet and forums for everything and anything he wanted to find out. Also, his notebooks, a collection of stolen pens and as he told Scully, a few other odds and ends that were completely and totally useless but completely necessary to life.

They lived out of these bags, two each plus a third large duffel for winter gear, shoes and food in case of quick getaway.

This out-of-suitcase living was now so common place that when Mulder forgot momentarily and hung up his clean shirt in the closet, she gave him a look of such incredulity that he flushed, feeling like he’d cracked their system in half and the world was on the verge of collapse.

Then she smiled at him, taking the shirt from the hanger and folding it, packing it away with the rest of the newly laundered items, “brain farting, as you put it Mulder, is not usually your style. Got something on your mind?”

“Not yet.” Squeezing her hips as he slipped by her, “I’ll tell you if it pans out though, promise.”

Now intrigued, she carried on with her nightly routine, bathing, hair-drying, reading, having Mulder quiz her, volleying back and forth about some whacked-out theory Mulder found online before she asked again, “what are you planning in the brain of yours?”

Poking her side as he lay next to her under the sheets, “hey, a little intrigue is good for us. Keeps the fires alive.”

In one fell swoop, she rolled him over, climbed on top and pushed his shirt up around his neck, “I think our fires are just fine.”

&&&&&&&&&&

They wandered East and West, North and South, back and forth, two days or a week at a time, deciding the comforts of their semi-settled Minnesota existence might not be the best way to go for awhile. It wasn’t until late September that they slowed their ramble, Scully becoming frequently more ill-at-ease with the aimlessness of their journey. She’d made it through almost three years but it was taking its toll. As a couple, they were doing okay, the occasional fight, the occasional silence, the occasional mutterings of ‘jackass’ and ‘pain in my ass’ while both fumed at one another, testing who would crack first and apologize.

But her mind and her spirit were exhausted and it showed, Mulder apologizing more frequently and hugging her more closely than she thought possible.

One morning, huddled safely in a cabin they’d rented in cash, off the beaten path to all but the passing deer hunter, he pulled her towards him, moving the stray blonde hairs from her cheeks, “hey Scully?”

“Unless you have breakfast somewhere in the vicinity of my mouth, don’t wake me up.”

Knowing her just that well, he held up a torn section of cinnamon roll from last night’s dessert, “will this do?”

Eyes still shut, she opened her mouth and accepted the peace offering, sucking the icing off his fingers with a slow, drawn-out lip smack, “yes. What do you want?”

“What would you say to us looking for a place to live, like a real place to live? One with walls and windows and a fridge bigger than a stamp and maybe even more than one toilet.”

He really should have waited until she’d swallowed before dropping this bomb on her and it took a few minutes to dislodge the dough from her lungs, coughing until she cried then calming again from her scary little fit of near-death, “what?”

Mulder could smile now that he knew she wasn’t going to die in front of him, “I was thinking that we could start concocting some kind of story where we’ve gone our separate ways and you would like to come back to the real world and need help finding a house and you could talk to Skinner and see if it’s even possible. Have him feel things out, maybe ask around to know if it would be safe for you to go back to normal.” Sliding her gently back down to lay beside him, “I can’t keep doing this to you. You deserve more than hotel mattresses and living out a suitcase.”

“Mulder …”

“No, I think we should think about this. If it works, then good but if it doesn’t, at least you know we’ll have tried.”

“You … you wouldn’t really leave though, right? You promised.”

“I would be perfectly content to hide in the house all day. I can go running and outside after dark or if we get a place with enough land, I could garden or build stuff, who knows. I just know that I can’t do this to you anymore.”

The thought honestly scared her but in a giddy, good way and kissing him, icing still on her lips, they celebrated the possibility of not having to run anymore.

&&&&&&&&&&&

It was a long process and they were holed up in North Carolina when Christmas arrived, with two feet of snow, windchills in the double negatives and a Mulder-smile, commenting on how it felt just like they were back having their first Christmas together, only naked this time.

Even though it wasn’t Christmas morning, Scully leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved his gift, “open it. I know it’s early but open please.”

Never arguing with an unclothed Scully had been his personal rule since the first time he’d laid eyes on her perfect breasts and not about to break that rule, he took the gift, unwrapping it with paper flying everywhere, then staring at it in confusion.

It was a clear ornament, one that unscrewed in half, holding a single key.

Opening the orb slowly, he took out the key, never taking his eyes off her, “you have me totally befuddled.”

“That’s one of our house keys.” Now he just looked so totally ‘what?!’ that she smiled, sitting up, wrapping comforter around shoulder before continuing, “the paperwork went through with a little help from Skinner and the real estate lady sent the key to the Post Office box and I picked it up yesterday and thought it would be a pretty good gift.”

For some crazy reason, the fact that she would be in a home again soon, with him, like some sort of kind of a hint of a real family, made tears fill his eyes. Holding it up between them, “we should go look at it now.”

“Um, it’s after 9pm, it’s a three-hour drive and that boatload of snow out there isn’t just for looks. Maybe tomorrow or the next day after they’ve plowed some of the highways but right now, we’d be stuck before we got out of town.”

Impatient to the core, he opened his mouth to argue but she shut him up swiftly, her mouth covering his, her body following. Eventually, exhaustion forced him into sleep, mouth slack, body sated, limbs tangled with hers as he mumbled something about christening the new house as soon as possible.

&&&&&&&&&

Three long days later, they were trudging through snowdrifts higher than Scully, forced to leave the car at the main road while they walked the half-mile to the house. Frozen solid, yet sweating profusely under their winter coats and leggings, they didn’t stop to look at the porch or the shuttered windows but went right inside, shucking off clothing to leave in a heap by the door.

Only when they were stripped down to jeans and thermal shirts did they look around.

This time is was Scully crying, stepping up the stairs a few feet to grab him in a proper hug, squeezing his neck until he choked out a laugh and she lightened her grip. Burying his face in the side of her neck, “welcome home.” A few minutes later, he peeled away from her, holding up a finger to keep her in place, which she obeyed with open wonderment. Watching him carefully remove a box from his jacket pocket, he held it up to her, still in its Christmas paper, “I would have given you this on Christmas morning but decided to wait until we got here.”

Intrigued, she ripped the paper, opened the box then removed a clear glass Christmas bulb. Without looking or reading the words on it, she looked at him, “you stole my idea.”

“Actually, Dana Scully, you stole mine. I’ve been waiting since October, when we decided to find the house.”

The Dana made her grin, the Scully made her warm from head to toe but the gift made her speechless. Inside, on a bunch of pulled apart cotton balls, sat a simple, gold band, a small, deep red-purple stone set with a small diamond on either side. Stomach officially all over the map and brain forgetting how to speak, she turned the bulb slowly, reading, “will you marry me?” and the year, Mulder’s script careful and precise in its sloppy familiarity.

She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t breathe. She could, however, feel her heart thudding against her ribs, painfully strong and erratic as all hell. The only thing she could do was stare, the tears blurring things before they fell but in between watery visions, she could see Mulder clear as day, across from her, perfect as anything in the world and all hers.

“Yes.”

The answer shot out towards him like a bullet, fast, sharp, crisp and unmistakable.

He laughed, truly afraid for a moment she was either going to faint, explode or most scary of them all, say ‘no’. Taking the ornament from her, he opened it, slipped the ring on her finger then held up the words to her again, “sure about your answer to this?”

This time her ‘yes’ was whispered in his ear.

#keeping the fires alive #fast sharp crisp and unmistakable #msr #christmas series #my writing #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic

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justanotherdumpingground · 5 years

Text

Chapter Reviews: April 23-27, 2019

Wishful Thinking Chapter 3:

So far, it's mildly enjoyable. I enjoy investigating Tilly and finding out that she has kept a menagerie of animals after getting mixed up with animal traffickers. Pity I couldn't adopt her cat Jinx because I'd love to see the MC hear an animal's thoughts on a regular basis.

Still miffed at the MC's dad for doubting his daughter's capabilities. I get that he's concerned for her, but because she's an adult, he's practically hindering her from reaching her full potential. I mean, she just became junior reporter after that moment with Tilly, so he shouldn't be worried.

Anyway, let's see how Jaime reacts to the MC having the ability to read minds.

High School Story: Class Act Chapter 11:

Why didn't MC and Skye use their phones to record footage of Lorenzo and Amber talking about how they staged Lorenzo's heroic act? That would've saved them the effort to expose Lorenzo for the fraud he is. I guess they aren't crazy prepared after all.

So Danielle's back and suggesting that Rory kidnap the kitten. That's just too risky and dumb. To be honest, I consider her neutralized instead of redeemed, but then again, she had Amber fund the play just for Rory's sake. It was stupid of Rory to nearly consider that offer as well.

Honestly, how dumb is Lorenzo? Campaigning to divert all school resources to throwing parties not only shows skewed priorities in his part, but also comes across as a moot point. After all, the school staff will just nullify his platform if he wins. What made me cringe is that these students act like the student council is more powerful than the principal and teachers. Even worse is when Myra dropped out from the running after receiving a shirt from Lorenzo.

Man, it's so awesome to see Skye urging Rory and the twin to cooperate together. Seriously, I've had enough of this election drama, especially when the most popular candidate will ruin the school. Even worse is that it ruins the purpose of this reboot, which contains the words "Class Act", yet there's no focus on preparing for a play aside from Rory's campaign to strengthen the arts.

Across the Void Chapter 19:

Wow! That was an intense chapter that really captured my entire interest. Evading the Void's patrols through disguise and then destroying their ships was awesome, to say the least. Now it's just up to the MC and the Atlas crew to put a stop to the Void.

Man, Quandry is one walking nightmare. The way he behaves and tortures Zekei scares me so much. I thought he might go after Aquari because she's a minor character, but going after Deimos? Man, that's just scary. I spent diamonds to save her life, mainly because she's growing on me. Nevertheless, it's well done, and I just can't help but praise the writers for punching my guts in this scene by aiming for a character growing on me.

America's Most Eligible Chapter 15:

This is it, huh? Honestly, I'm disappointed at Pixelberry's mishandling of this story by not making relationships affect dialogue. I get that it means spending more time and resources and putting more effort, but considering Pixelberry's history of mismanagement, can't say I'm surprised.

Still miffed that I have to pay diamonds to get Eden and Kiana together. Why can't you do this on your own, Eden? As much as I like her and Kiana, their lack of free will just makes me question the credibility of the diamonds and keys system.

Picking the flirty choices during the quiz on how much I know my partner is fun, especially when Ivy complains about how my MC turns everything into a speech about how sexy and gorgeous he is. It was the only part of the story that I enjoy, though I also can't wait for this book to end.

Nightbound Chapters 1-2:

This is off to a good start so far. I cringed a little when the male MC faces were recycled from TE because they look too young for a 25 year old, but the story's setup makes up for it. I was scared when Kristin got attacked by a bloodwraith that is magnificently terrifying. And the encounter with supernatural beings like Vera got me curious on the setting even more. I like Garrus, Krom, and Ivy so far, and I hope to see more of them as the series progresses.

I picked Face 3 for Nik, and he looks good. I still find him rather fishy because of him not saying much about his job as a hunter. Anyway, let's see how this goes, and it better not disappoint me.

Passport to Romance Chapter 7:

On one hand, it's true Ahmed's coach is a jerk, but on the other hand, could he actually go to the nearest airport and fly himself and his friends to Berlin? That would've saved precious time. Honestly, this stop at Lucerne comes across as a mere ploy to add more screen time for Elliot just because the creators love giving details on him for free while paywalling others. It's a disingenuous self-fulfilling prophecy that drives all kinds of players other than the ones you're targeting away.

Speaking of Elliot, on one hand, I feel bad that he's struggling to get through the grief of losing his parents last year. Nevertheless, my opinion of him is still the same because while it explains his objection to Ahmed and Sumire making jokes at the catacombs, he still has yet to decide whether to improve or worsen, and it has to be done in a logical way. Not to mention that he has no excuse because of his status as the writer's favorite.

Honestly, what is wrong with this MC? Forgetting to ask your friends for their last names is one thing, but snooping on their private stuff without asking for their permission is a whole another level. They should've asked Elliot for permission first, but no. Let's just invade his privacy and rummage through his stuff. In the meantime, I'm amused to see that Bartholomew Chambers's face has been recycled for Elliot's brother.

Open Heart Chapter 11:

Wow! This chapter is intense. First Dr. Banerji coughs blood, a sign that his life hangs in the balance. Next, Mrs. Martinez says she wanted to travel but couldn't because of her Rhodes disease. Finally, Kyra reveals that her cancer's back and initially decides to just ditch chemo because she thought her cancer will come back anyway. I admire the MC's determination to treat their patients and do whatever it takes to get them better, and the team work their friends.

One thing that I'm still curious about is when will the investigation on the saboteur resume. Between the patients and Panacea Labs's shadiness, that might be the reason why it's on the sidelines.

I'm proud of Kyra's ultimate decision to go through chemo and not give up any hope for survival. That's the spirit. Definitely have a huge respect for her.

Ride or Die Chapter 15:

I finally caved in and spent diamonds on having my MC reconcile with her dad. Well, the dad still believed that the MC must answer for what she has done, regardless of whether I picked the premium option, but I'm still glad they have one last talk before she goes out to get back on Shaw.

The driving sequence was pretty intense, and I was nervous that the MC might end up at a disadvantage. It seemed like that at first, but I was impressed at her laying a trap for the Brotherhood with Toby and Ximena's help. Still keeping an eye on Mona and what she'll do.

For the very first time, I'm actually excited to see what will happen next. It doesn't mean I like this story, but at least it does grab my attention that I'm excited for what will happen next.

The Elementalists Chapter 7:

This story continues to be the highlight of my Saturdays (I'm more than half a day ahead from where I'm at :P). First, I'm worried for Atlas and their outbursts for anger and hope they get help as soon as possible. Second of all, the MC and Atlas attuned to all elements was a huge curveball. I thought my MC's personality will change from being like an Air-att, but it was a relief that it won't change. Third, I messed up with Alma training my MC to prevent themselves from suffocation. Kane's method of suffocating air out of people's lungs reminds me of Avatar: The Legend of Korra, specifically the third season big bad Zaheer using his airbending to kill by bending air from one's lungs.

Lake Tempetua looks so beautiful I hope to see it again in a future chapter. It was also fun to see my MC and their friends having fun during the party. Not to mention that I had my MC kiss Cyran because I'm still trying to figure out who my MC will date. Now that I finally get to encounter merfolk, I'm wondering whether there's at least one non-human race that corresponds to a certain element. I might be wrong, though.

Wood nymphs=wood

Djinn=moon

Merfolk=water

Satyr=?

The scene where the MC attacks Atlas shocked and horrified me. I was certain that the choice I picked was the mildest, only for the MC to severely injure their twin. Talking about a curveball on my part. I'm becoming even more worried at what might happen and when Kane will strike back.

#choices stories you play #chapter reviews

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fashiontrendin-blog · 6 years

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Monocycle, Episode 63: Self-Esteem

http://fashion-trendin.com/monocycle-episode-63-self-esteem/

Monocycle, Episode 63: Self-Esteem

In partnership with StockX

When I was nine years old, my dad told me that everyone has an interesting story if you are willing to listen to it. Over the past month, I have really enjoyed treating Monocycle like a bicycle, listening to the stories of particularly interesting people, some more public than others, and getting into the thick of what it means to be a person in the world, whether in the context of being a woman, owning your vanity or experiencing grief. But for old times’ sake (and because sometimes talking is more satisfying than writing), here’s an episode of Monocycle that features no one but me, my sound booth and that background music you probably wish never to hear again but that is probably not going anywhere any time soon. The choice topic is self-esteem, a human condition that has come up in so many of my conversations as of late because it seemingly impairs me, but see the thing is that I’ve been masquerading it as otherwise-titled experiences (self love, self respect, compassion and so on) for at least the last year. Sometimes it is so liberating to finally land on a spade and to be able to call it one even if you don’t have a next step, or solution in place.

We’re only running six minutes and 40 seconds long this week, so enjoy this episode while you take a coffee break, or sit on the toilet, or braid your pubic hair. Please don’t forget to come back and hit me ~up~ in the comments below because now you know I need validation, use self-deprecation to get it and ugh, just love talking to you. HAPPY FRIDAY! T-minus 10…

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