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#anyway this turned into another whole ass vent and i just keep making myself sad idk why i wrote this
dtaegis · 3 years
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be honest if i left again for like, 2 weeks or something, would you miss me talking endless about dochero
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Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)
Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: n/a
A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️
Previous Chapter | Masterlist
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Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.
As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.  
“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”
Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-
Oh right. There weren’t coming.
“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”
“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”
Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”
You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.
“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”
Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.
You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
He responds, “Take your time.”
Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.
Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.
“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.
As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.
In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.
The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.
Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.
“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.
No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.
“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.
“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.
Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.
You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”
“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”
A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”
“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.
“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.
Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.
“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.
“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”
“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”
Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.
  “So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”
Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”
“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”
Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.
“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”
In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.
Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”
 “ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.
“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face.  He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.
Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.
Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.
“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.
You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”
“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.
“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.
The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.
“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”
“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”
He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.
Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”
You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.
“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.
Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”
The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.
So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.
Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.
“More like a thousand years.”
“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”
“And when I do?”
“The next day will be your wedding day.”
Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.
“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”
You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.
“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.
He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.
You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair.  Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.
“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”
Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”
“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”
Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.
What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
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Could I ask headcanons of Black Eagles flirting and crushing on Byleth (professor?)?
[Ask and you shall receive lol. Lately I’ve been busying myself with long reports, so I needed something cutsey to recharge.(Sorry if it’s complete rubbish lol) It’s not much but I hope you like it!]
Edelgard: 
Ehh. She won’t be a student much longer anyways. 
Byleth will always be her professor...but maybe another title can be ticked onto that list? She hopes so. 
However, she doesn’t go too overboard. Just a few teasing gestures and quips every once in a while to sedate the budding sentiment in her heart 
With more pressing issues over love, Edelgard can’t afford to play the role of lovesick schoolgirl 
She sets side her personal feelings for the professor when around others. Instead they are treated as a good friend and adored instructor. Alongside the present given on Byleth’s birthday are a few other trinkets Edelgard picked up herself, you know, because she’s extra 
When alone her thoughts often drift. There are many occasions where work ends up procrastinated 
She keeps everything bottled up inside and doesn’t even hint at the idea of a crush to anyone. To love is to be compromised, to be compromised is to be weak, and to be weak is to fail
This is something she firmly believes until the support of her peers and affection from her professor begin to challenge it 
Perhaps there is room for love in her future 
“My teacher, you are an important companion to everyone here and to myself. You must never forget that”  
Hubert: 
Oh he is smooooth. 
Yet subtle 
He knows that he shouldn’t become too attached considering what’s to come in the future. His mind and body are her highness’ to command
....well, all good things come in moderation anyways. What’s a little meaningless flirting?
His flirting methods follow the ‘attack of opportunity’ plan. Meaning that he tosses in his quips when the time seems fitting 
He knows what he is doing. Never assume otherwise 
Obviously such conduct towards a teacher is unrefined. Does he care? The guy couldn’t give less of a sh*t 
He has 100% commented on their dancing attire at least once
People should mind their own business lest they want to lose their tongue. Can’t gossip when you can’t speak, right?  
If the professor doesn’t seem to mind then why should he stop? If they recuperate then that’s even better
It’s no fun when prey doesn’t fight back once in a while. 
“Oh do go on. The droll behind your ever so taunting tone is intoxicating. It almost makes this insufferable lecture mildly entertaining” -shots fired. Professor or not, ‘love interest’ or enemy, Hubert does not tone down the sarcasm 
No one even suspects that he has an interest in Byleth. He downright makes it appear that they are his sworn enemy (whether this is intentional or not? You decide) 
Caspar:
‘Flirt’? ‘Caspar’? That’s funny
It’s not that he can’t do it. Caspar can be very charming when he wants to be, but why bother? 
They’re his professor. If he starts kissing up to them then the others might start to think he’s pegging for special treatment 
He also doesn’t want them to like a facade. He wants them to like him
Not that he would turn said special treatment down if offered. He d o e s want to get stronger, and the extra time with his “favorite”*wink* professor is a lucky bonus 
He tends to have a ‘lingering eye’ that’s easy to pick up on if you catch my drift
he is not pure hearted, just a dunce. There is a difference
The boy blushes at every little action without even noticing
He loves to watch them train, both to better his own moves and to admire them without it seeming weird 
Literally everyone knows that Caspar has a thing for Byleth before he knows it himself. He’s the kind that mistakes a crush for admiration 
He’s also a big baby when it comes to them giving other people attention. 
He justifies his interruptions as: “The professor doesn’t have time to do __ for __! They have enough to do as it is!” 
Now what does that translate to in Caspar language?: “The time the professor spends doing __ is time they could spend with our class me” 
Someone help him. He’s so thick headed it’s actually sad 
Petra: 
“My apologies. I will be returning after the clearing of my head” 
She’s unfamiliar with the courting methods in Fodlan. Are they the same as in Bridgid? 
Thoughts of the professor occasionally will interfere with her study time
Also her appetite. Normally she eats plenty at meals since she hates waste, but the professor makes her nervous about her etiquette 
let’s just ignore that Byleth eats like a ravenous boar
She wants to take them to see Bridgid. It’s only natural to want to share the things you love with those you care about 
She embraces the affection she feels. Byleth is a truly wonderful person and the royal family would gladly accept them if Petra expressed her feelings 
When she returns she wants to ask them to accompany her 
For now she will remain at their side both in battle, in leisure, and in spirit 
Petra also isn’t one to approach with caution. The way she flirts is through honesty 
If they do something she likes then she says so. If they look nice or are trying something new then she’ll comment on it. If she sees something in the shop that they might like, then she buys it 
Petra is simple. She does for Byleth what she thinks will make them happy and doesn’t overthink it in the slightest 
Dorothea: 
The newfound feelings aren’t discouraged nor appreciated. It is a battle between practicality and love for her 
Not because of them being a professor, but everything else 
Mercenary, teacher, reincarnate, solider, tactician, etc. 
Such a dangerous profession with so much blood on their hands. Are those the ones she wants to hold for the rest of their days? 
Will they even live long enough to grow old with her? 
She wants a reliable partner to take care of her and not give her a heart attack on a daily basis. So far only one box is checked 
She will not be a widow at such a young age. She refuses 
When these thoughts emerge Dorothea retracts from Byleth. There’s still the open friendliness that was there before, but now an extra barrier has been put up 
She won’t go out of her way to give Byleth special treatment. Her search for a partner other than them will continue on 
Maybe she’ll find someone else to smash these feelings so that there will be no need to confront them 
Only after they ‘die’ will she stop suppressing them. 
“To think that it took such a disaster for me to see the light. Why do people realize such things when it’s too late?” - she focuses on personal growth until the reunion. Relying on another person to prevent the past from reappearing is not what she wants. 
Ferdinand: 
The best way that Ferdinand can communicate his feelings is through words
He tries. He really tries to come across as a potential life partner for the professor. He can only be a student for so long, and they’re close in age. Logically there is nothing wrong with the possibility of a courtship 
but because speaking ‘frilly’ is a normality the effect is not like how he hoped 
When Ferdinand falls, he falls hard. Yes, he is a flirt. Yes, he stretches himself thin trying to please everyone. Yes, he has his quirks that make him extremely confrontational 
So when he finds someone with the ability to make him both strengthen his morals, question the bigger picture, and grow as an individual (after the whole ‘noble’ mine-bomb) it’s a big deal 
Therefore he will not relent in his pursuit of Byleth unless they explicitly tell him to stop. If words don’t work then he instantly pegs for quality time and acts of affirmation 
Greets them every morning, carries their supplies, invites them to tea, delivers lost items, etc. People really do peg him as a kiss ass. 
He doesn’t get the ‘heart flutters’ that people talk about. When he’s beside the professor he just feels energized. Like he could actually beat Edelgard ‘could’ is the key word in that scentence
“Good morning Professor! If your schedule allows it, would you care to join me for tea later this afternoon? Your company would make it the perfect level of sweetness” 
Linhardt: 
A firm believer of “age is but a number”
It’s more of his personal beliefs that tone down any pursuit of the professor. They are currently in a position of power over him that halts any relationship progression at a professional level. 
So as any healthy person does: he vents any growing affection into his studies
He h a t e s how they make him restless.He’ll be feeling drowsy one moment but then their face will pop into his mind 
He can’t even sleep through class. Not with them there 
Actually works in the class’ favor since he starts contributing to the lectures. If you can’t beat them then might as well join them 
This is how it is during pre-timeskip for the most part. Occasionally he will let his thoughts slip but never any action
He has crests to research and Byleth has students that seemingly want to die by the hour. There is literally no time to flirt 
Now AFTER the timeskip, things are different. Linhardt is a blunt person which sometimes works in his favor. Just so happens that flirting comes naturally to him  
most of the time it doesn’t though
“Could you refrain from doing that? It’s distracting”                                      “Linhardt, i’m stretching. How is that distracting?”                                         “You are an attractive individual. Need I say more?” 
Life is short. He has no filter 
Bernadetta: 
“HI PROFESSOR!”                                                                                       “Afternoon Bernadetta. I see you’re out of your room today”                       “W-what? OH! Yes. Y-y-yEs i aM IM SORRY I’LL GO BACK PLEASE DON’T PATRONIZE MEEEEE” 
She’s scared. What’s new? 
The girl never expected to have these feelings. One night she was painting when what was supposed to be a cloud began to resemble her professor 
It was downhill from there.
Her behavior is exactly the same as prior to her feelings. Being a naturally jittery person works to her advantage, no one suspects a thing! 
Compared to simply being friends it will take longer for her to be comfortable 
She will avoid Byleth at all times outside of lessons. It’s just too hard to communicate anymore 
Eventually her outer shell will crack. The once new feelings will begin to feel normal and the old bernie will be back. Jittery, hyperactive, kind, lovable bernie 
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holdmyowos · 3 years
Text
Mating Season (Hawks x Male Reader Lemon)
Includes: Boy x boy (duh), feral Hawks, angst and cursing.
Your POV:
           It had been a long day at the League. So much hectic things had happened that Shigaraki decided to call a meeting. Everyone was crammed in one room with a really long table. The meeting was one of those that you had been to countless times before. It was just Shigaraki ranting about how nothing ever went his way. Thankfully, Hawks, was to the right of you. That always put you at ease. He was so easy to get along with. That, and he was handsome. Too bad he was probably straight. He kept making stupid jokes and making fun of Shigaraki. Shigaraki gave Hawks the middle finger and kept up his speech. "Shut it, bird boy, or else you'll get in trouble," you hissed at Hawks. He laughed. "Come on now. Live a little." You rolled your eyes at him. "How can I do that when Shigaraki's keeping me here? I'd rather be doing anything else." You whispered back. "A hot guy like yourself shouldn't be stuck in this musty room doing nothing but listening to some crusty dude vent. You should totally hook up with someone!" He winked at you. Your heart about stopped. He was so cute. Did he mean he liked you? If you asked, would he hook up with you? Just the thought made your lower stomach throb. "Yeah, I guess I should. You know who with?" You blushed at him.
Hawk's POV
My body tensed up. No. This could not happen here. Not in front of the whole league. I started fidgeting. What Luke the chances be that he liked me back? My nails dug into the chair arm. His voice was so nice and soothing. So calming. My breathing sped up. I hate when this happens. It puts me in an odd position. My mating instinct kicks in when someone says something like that. I could ask him out, but that might ruin our friendship. I kept fidgeting throughout the meeting, waiting for it to be over. My anxiety probably wouldn't let me talk to him anyway. The pressure in my stomach just gets more and more. My face turns red.
Your POV
For some reason, Hawks had not answered your question. In fact, he had not said anything for the rest of the meeting. He started fidgeting. His face turned red. Did you make him uncomfortable with that question? By the ending of the meeting, his hair was all messed up by how many times he had run his fingers through it. Somehow, his fingernails had seemingly turned into something that more resembled talons. Shigaraki dismissed everyone. You went up to him. You caught his eyes for a few seconds, and his gaze was very intense. You walked closer. "Hey, Hawks-" you took another step forward, and he flew off to his bedroom. What was he doing? You followed him. When you got to his room, you knocked.
"Hey, what's going on?" You asked, concern lacing your voice. He was acting odd. Even through the door, you could hear his labored breathing. He did not answer. Was he ignoring you? You knocked louder. "I'm talking to you! Are you okay? What's wrong?" His breathing calmed down. "I'm sorry! Please... please just leave me alone." He almost sounded like he was crying. "Hell I will! I'm not going to just leave you like that, damn it! Something's wrong, and I want to help you! I'm your friend!" You shouted at him. "I need something more than that," his answer came. What did that mean? What was going on with him? A giant crashing sounded from in his room, as if he had tipped a chair over. "What do you mean, Hawks? Do you need something? I'll get it for you. I'm here for you." Whatever was going on was serious. The Hawks you knew would never cry. He was always quick with a joke, always seemingly happy. He had never show his weakness like this before. "I need something more than a friend. Just leave!" He said again. Yet he still did not sound angry, just sad. What did he mean by that? "Hawks, please. Just tell me what's wrong. I'll help you with whatever it is. I-" your voice broke. "I love you. If there's anything I can do, just come and get me." You took a step away from the door, giving up. If he did not want to tell you even after such an emotional confession, he'd never say.
"Wait."
In a flash, you were whisked away. You could barely comprehend what had happened. He was so fast. One moment, you were in the hall, but the next moment you were in his room. It had all been a blur of red. Hawks shut the door with a click.
You took a moment to take in what had happened. He had grabbed you and dragged you into his room in less than a second. He pressed his mouth against yours with passion, pulling you in. His strong muscles were hard against you. Surprised by how fast he was taking it, you pushed him away.
You took in the scene. He had ripped through your shirt in the place he had dragged you. His room, which normally seemed so orderly, had feathers all over it. A wooden desk had been toppled over, so that much paper and few pencils littered the floor. Hawks's shirt had been cast aside on the floor. His hair was a mess. In fact, he looked so disorganized. He was all sweaty, but his scent was so nice. You could see all his abs and arm muscles spread in front of you, moving with his breathing. He looked so fucking hot. His fist kept clenching and unclenching. He was staring at you like you were the last morsel of food left on earth. His breathing had again become heavy. His lips were parted. One hand of his was on the wall. He looked really angry.
"Why the hell did you say you loved me, if you can't even bring yourself to fucking kiss me?" He spat. He did not give you a chance to respond. He trapped you by pressing you against the door. He very slightly squeezed your neck with one hand, his claw tips barely touching your skin. You stayed like that a moment, his breath hot against you. He slowly calmed down enough to let you go. He flopped onto his bed and laid down on his back and closed his eyes, and grit his teeth together. "Whatever the fuck. Just leave then. I was probably just hallucinating. Tell anyone and you're dead. I swear." He let out a giant sigh and raked his claws on his blanket sheets, ripping long lines in them, as if to prove his point.
"Hawks. It just all happened so fast. I do love you. Really. I was just surprised you accepted me. I just needed a minute. That's all." He sat up on his bed. "Sorry for yelling at you. And threatening you. It's just these bird instincts sometimes take control." He licked his lips and stared at you. "N-no problem. Anyway, what was wrong with you during the meeting? Why did you... you know, flip over your desk? And what is up with those claws?" You knelt down on the floor next to his bed. His gaze wandered over you, humming, as if deciding what to tell you. "Well, if I'm being perfectly honest, you were what was wrong with me during the meeting. What a pain in the ass. You're just so fucking hot that you turned me on. What can I say? And one thing turns into another, and my breeding instincts kick in. I get protective of my space, my things, including..." He said the next word quickly. "...you." "And when my bird instincts kick in, I seem more bird like. So, they are talons, not claws. He stuck out his tongue. It was longer and narrower than usual. I just did not know how to let out my feelings. My instincts go against what human society's norms are quite often. I get angry. So," he gestured to the knocked over desk.
You got up. "Well, I'm here for you now. So don't worry about society's norms." You crawled on top of him and plunged your lips against his. His chest was so warm against you. He broke the kiss for air. The two of you rolled on and off of each other. Finally, he pinned you against the bed. He took one finger and gently traced your jawline. He laid down on top of you, embracing you in a hug. Melting onto you. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I just wanted someone to hold me like this so badly." He laid his head next to yours. You traced his muscular arms. "Are you sure that's all you want?" You whispered in his ear. "What do you mea-" he spluttered. Noticing his pants, you had pressed hard against him. He looked down at you with lust. "Touch me like that again, I fucking dare you. You won't," he whispered. "Yes I will." You started palming him through his pants. He let out little gasps, moving his hips towards your hand.  "Needy, hmm? I kinda thought you'd be dom, not going to lie. Makes things more interesting, I guess." He smirked up at you. "So, you've thought about us doing this before?"
"So?"
"Nothing."
"Good."
A sudden knock at the door surprised both of you. "Hawks, I was wondering if-" Toga's voice. "Hawks is busy right now. How about you fuck off?" You heard her skipping back down the hall, completely unfazed. "Hey, that was rude. Wha-" you cut off his words by taking his dick into your hand and jacking him off. He twitched. You picked up the pace.
"Hell not so fucking rough." He all but moaned. You let go of him. He whined in protest. "Thought you didn't like it rough." "It hurts so badly. I hate how this bird quirk makes me feel. Please. Please just... just do it. Don't waste any time. I can't wait. I can take it without any lube or anything. Please..." you could see how badly his pride hurt, but his instincts were taking over. "...please just fuck me." He took the rest of his clothes off. You followed suit. "You're sure that's what you want?" "Don't make me beg. I couldn't live with myself." You considered the idea, but by now he had caused quite the bulge in your own pants. "Ok, bird brain."
You gently pressed into him. He made deep gauges in the bed with his talons. "You're so fucking tight. Just relax and it will go smoother." "You're right, you're right." Every time you pressed in deeper, he clenched around you and groaned. His wings puffed out. Finally, you pushed all the way in. Slowly, you moved up and down. "Hawks, you're such a fucking bottom." His moans were very loud. "I knowwwwwwww..." You picked up the pace, and soon were nearing your climax. "Hawks, are you ready?" "I've been ready, just... just waiting for you," he gasped. You rode out your orgasms and for the rest of the night the two of you had a great time.
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arsonistslut · 3 years
Text
Chapter 15: A false truth
Meanwhile, Jeff lay awake in his hospital bed. He didn't even properly feel angry anymore, or sad, or..anything. He just felt numb. He was getting a hair transplant, but the doctors wouldn't be able to perform proper plastic surgery until a good year or so, so natural healing of his wounds was the only viable option. His parents hadn't visited once, so he had only the staff to keep him company. Whenever one of the nurses came to change his bandages, as was procedure, he could see the look of pity in her eyes. His burns were horrific to look at, he assumed, but not once did he ask to see his own face.
When they put him under for his hair transplant, the demon, apparently calling itself "Zalgo" when asked, had returned to that space they'd talked in before. The same dark corner, red swelling around Zalgo's presence like a plague. Last time Jeff was here with the demon, he took it's hand and pledged bloodshed upon the world..but now he was second-guessing his decision.
"...How do you know Liu hates me, Zal? I mean..he could be in therapy, for all I know! He doesn't hate me, he can't..I'm his brother.."
"He sure is getting therapy.."
Zalgo reached toward one of the walls and swiped over it, opening a sort of..one way window to the sight of Liu and Natalie, gazing at the stars together, Nat running her fingers through Liu's hair as he curled up in her arms like a cat.
"He's forgotten about you, Jeff..remarkably quickly. Another thing.."
Jeff then saw into earlier in the day. Liu was talking to Randy, the kid that set him on fire, and apologized to him. Did it all mean nothing to him...? Did all the times they helped each other, the bond they had, the fact that his brother was rotting in a hospital and was going to be for a year mean nothing to him?
"A reminder, Jeffrey..he's doing this on purpose. They all do, all the couples at school that see a lonesome soul like you with nobody to go to prom with, your family that irrationally hates everything you do and paints you as a monster, the police who arrested you, mocked you for your disorder, they think it's funny. This world hates people like you, and it won't stop beating you down until you're dead."
Chapter 16: Fresh meat
Keith smirked as he saw the new girl with the black-and-red stockings pass him by in the locker. Nina Hopkins, another transfer from 9th grade. She was what you would call the "alt-girl", and if the rumors were true, had similar issues that Jeff kid had. Keith taps his friend Troy's shoulder, and the two follow her as she heads outside to eat her lunch.
"Hey! Where ya goin', anorexic?"
Nina turned to look at the boys who followed her outside, sighing as she ignored them and muttered to herself.
"Same shit as before.."
"What is it, Jeff? You finally got that sex change?"
"Jeff? who's Jeff?"
"Oh, right, that's your 'dead name'. Sorry, nInA!"
Randy saw the two outside, approaching and looking at the situation. At this point, Troy and Keith were hardly people he wanted to associate with anymore. He didn't want to bully people anymore, to hurt anyone else with these two dopes.
"C'mon, you two. We've got bigger fish to fry."
"What? We're just..introducing her to the neighborhood."
"We're going."
"You her boyfriend or something?"
Randy approached Keith, looming over the ginger with a subdued anger in his eyes.
"Maybe I should beat your fucking ass, Keith. Teach you your fair share of respect."
When his "friend" stepped back in surprise and fear, Ellsworth couldn't help but feel just a little bit satisfied with himself. Damn, that felt good.
"Alright, I'm coming..Jesus."
When the three left, Nina, who was just..caught up in all of this, looked on in confusion as she took a bite out of her sandwich.
"Sheesh..who is this Jeff kid, anyway? Heh, maybe I could buy some drugs or something off of him."
She joked to herself, the rest of school carrying on without incident.
Chapter 17: Breaking away
It was the same walk home as usual. The same cool air, the same autumn leaves flowing through the wind, the same desolate suburbia that New Orleans had become. Liu passed the Wallace Street sign that signaled the closeness of his house, his hands interlocked with Natalie's. He was about to cross the train tracks, but then he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Liu fuckin' Woods. How the hell've you been, little man?"
Keith Winchester. Alone. With a baseball bat.
"This is the same street your brother attacked me on. Poetic, ain't it?"
Liu felt that he wasn't gonna get out of this without violence, but he didn't expect this kid, who from what he remembered hearing, had a pretty cushy life, was going to try and attack him and Nat, of all people with a baseball bat. It was metal, too, so he had to have gotten it from his dad or something. Natalie was more annoyed than frightened, however, and began walking toward the bully.
"Oh, you think you're-"
What came next horrified Liu; the awful sound of aluminum striking flesh full force rang out as Keith bashed her upside the head with his weapon. Liu's conscious quickly gave way to let Sully in, and he charged at Keith, who raised the bat above his head to strike Liu down as well, but a hard punch to the gut quickly doubled the boy over. Sully quickly followed up by grabbing Keith's ears and headbutting him, knocking him to thee ground in a daze. Liu felt like he was outside of his own body, just..watching it all unfold. Sully grabbed the baseball bat and struck Keith in the ribs, then again in the shoulder, again to his ribs. A strike to his ankle came next, causing Keith to cry out in pain louder than before. Sully then heard the loud bells of a train arriving and grabbed Keith's leg, grabbing him and then throwing him down against the tracks, placing a foot against his back so he couldn't escape. The train grew closer and closer, the panic of the situation began slowly rushing back to Liu, as Natalie's voice called out to him;
"LIU, NO!!"
Suddenly, Liu regained control, and before the train could kill Keith, he pulled him out of the way of the speeding train, the shock on his face mirroring his. Keith limped away as Natalie rushed over to Liu's side.
"Liu, what the hell was that?! You nearly killed him!"
"I-I don't know, I just..s-snapped!"
"...I've never seen you that..angry, before..that scared me, Liu. It's like..you were a different person."
"I...I guess it was.."
"C'mon, I'll be fine. He hits hard, goddamn it..you got an ice pack or something?"
Liu grabbed an ice pack from his backpack and gently pressed it up to his girlfriend's face, half of him internally cursing himself for not killing that Keith motherfucker for hitting Natalie, and the other just happy that this whole event was over and done with.
3 days passed, and Keith hadn't gotten any better. He could tell Randy was about to split, and Troy..Troy was as dopey as he usually was, that relentless apathy toward all the cruelty and the violence, it was disturbing at times. Still, Keith had agreed to drive the three out to this junkyard he frequented, helped him separate from the outside world. They'd decided that a couple of good-for-nothing cars in an abandoned junkyard would be the perfect tourniquets for their frustrations, and Keith's father played lots of baseball, so they had weapons to use in such..venting. Troy and Randy were having a fair bit of fun there, making crude jokes and smashing old cars to pieces, but Keith was busy letting out all of the frustration, the anger he had for the Woods brothers and what they'd done to him. The car he was smashing apart was nearly about to collapse on it's own as Winchester screamed curse word after curse word, striking the derelict with hit after hit. Once he was finished, he noticed the two other teenagers looking at him. Troy looked amazed at what his friend did, whilst Randy just seemed...concerned.
"Are..are you alright, dude?"
"No, I'm not alright!! Jeff, Liu, those two fucks have been on my mind ever since the shit with the forest happened! Everybody thinks I'm a fucking weakling, thanks to those two! Well, news flash, I am NOT a weakling!!"
"Keith, we'll get those two eventually, alright? They've hurt you, and that means they hurt all of us. Nobody hurts us."
"Right..they're the bigger fish you mentioned when you pussied out over that Nina girl, right?"
"I didn't pussy out, Keith! We need to get after those shitters and not after some weird 17 year old!"
"You..You lie through your teeth, don't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You left your journal in my car, Randall. I decided to pore through it, and what do I find? Page after page of you whining about us, saying you want me and Troy gone from your life! We were friends!"
"People change, Keith, and I changed. A-After that fire, I realized that it was wrong..all of it was wrong! This bullying shit, it isn't okay! We're making other people feel like shit for our own enjoyment, that's sick!"
Randy let out an exasperated sigh as he sat on the roof of a car, clasping his hands together as he searched for the sort of words he thought could properly express how he's changed. Maybe his story would..resonate with Keith. Troy let out a small chuckle as he laid on a car hood and watched the drama unfold.
"I've never been the best with expressing myself, Keith. People would get mad at me when I said some shit that pissed them off, I didn't have a goddamn clue as to how I was supposed to talk to people. That's why I started all of this, why I started bullying people. People didn't really like me, but it was for a reason I could understand for once! But, now..after I lit Jeff on fire, it just doesn't seem worth it anymore."
"Oh, that's why?! You can't fucking talk right?! Randy, I've gotten arrested for you, you know that?! I took the fall for you for those vandalism charges when we set that old shed on fire, and was because you apparently had a fucking speech impediment."
"Keith, calm down-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"
Randy just shook his head as Keith stormed away, snatching his baseball bat out of Randy's hands. Troy soon got up and followed, looking Ellsworth dead in the eyes as he passed him.
"You suck some off, y'know that?"
"And you swallow, prick."
Once Keith and Troy left, Randy smiled to himself, something he hadn't done ever since the incident. It was like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest, so after taking in the bliss of being free of those two, he stood up and began heading home. He'd finally broken away from those two.
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monaisme · 3 years
Text
One Week Later - Chapter Three
This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”
“Well, if I didn’t think the man was an asshat before...” Mr. Stark growled as he disconnected from the call and sat back on the couch next to a freshly wakened Peter. “Seriously! He told me to call when we were ready and now he’s all ‘call Wong—I’m busy.’ He’s the keeper of the freakin’ Time Stone and he can’t bother to find a few minutes between balancing chakras and making avocado paste to follow through on a promise?!”
Peter could sympathize with Mr. Stark’s frustration, but was definitely less vocal about it. He’d hoped he’d get a chance to see Dr. Strange specifically so he could thank the man for at least getting him back to Earth after the whole ‘thing,’ but he guessed he’d have to wait until they got back to New York.
Mr. Stark, it seemed, was just getting started though. “I mean, he just hung up! I don’t even have Wong’s number! How am I supposed to—?”
 FRIDAY popped in from the device in his hand, “Boss, may I remind you that I can easily—?”
“Not now, FRI!” He gesticulated wildly, “I want to vent and you’re messing with my flow!”
“Tony, be kind.” Ms. Potts—um, Mrs. Stark chastised her husband from the adjoining bedroom where she was packing up her and Mr. Stark’s belongings. “All the wizards have been playing travel agent while everyone gets sorted and you know this.  He can take a break if he wants to. We’ll just call Wong like he asked and be done.”
Mr. Stark scowled at the suggestion. “But Pep, I wanted to talk to him before we left. You know this!” He whined. “An entire universe knows we’re here, and we’ve just kicked some serious ass! We need to coordinate as soon as we get back, make sure that we have a plan in place for the next—”
“You’ll do no such thing, buster! You know that Bruce and Steve will have returned the stones by the time we’ve returned, so stop being difficult. He’s signed on to do the whole ‘Avengers’ thing...” She popped her head out the door and gave him a pointed look. “Whereas you, Anthony Edward Stark, are retired. You have other priorities in your life now.”
They shared a significant look then, and if Peter had been paying attention, he’d have probably noticed it but—well, Peter’s brain was still warring between finding the motivation to get up off the couch versus never getting up again.
He knew what Mr. Stark had said earlier was true, and appreciated the fact that he was fully in Peter’s corner; but now that he was calmer... uh, visibly calmer, he had to start figuring stuff out, asap.
Once Mr. Stark got ahold of Wong, who Peter thought he might have met at some point during his recovery, they’d be on their way. He’d only slept lightly for an hour or so, and Mrs. Stark didn’t need long to finish gathering up the personal items they’d been able to collect thanks to the very wizards Mr. Stark was still muttering about. It looked like it was only a small suitcase for the two of them, and Peter had—yeah. He took a steadying breath as he realized, Peter had nothing to grab. All he possessed were the sweats and t-shirt Mr. Stark had given him to wear after his time in the med bay.
He didn’t even have shoes to wear... home?
Reality wasn’t holding back from soundly smacked Peter in the face.
“Wong! Ol’ buddy! Tony Stark, here!” Mr. Stark boomed from beside him. “Your roommate, Dr. Strange, has volunteered you for Stark family relocation duty.” Mr. Stark looked at his watch, “What are you doing in about an hour?”
Peter could have heard the reply if he’d wanted to, but he was drawn to another phone, Mrs. Stark���s, ringing quietly in the bedroom.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the woman answered with a whisper. “How are you?”
Whoever answered was quiet—just quiet enough that Peter couldn’t hear anything in return over Mr. Stark’s conversation, and he knew he had no business being curious but—
“Perfect!” Mr. Stark grew louder, forcing Peter’s attention back to their plans. “Now, do you serve lunch on this trip or is it just a bag of peanuts and...” Mr. Stark stopped talking. From what Peter could hear, it seemed that Wong didn’t share Mr. Stark’s sense of humour. “Yes, Wong, I’m sorry.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and smirked at the boy. “Yes, I und... no.” Was Mr. Stark getting flustered? “Of course I can be respectful of... yes. I know—I know. Wait, what?—C’mon, you know I was only— But—No, Wong! C’mon—“ A defeated sigh, “Do I have to?—But?—okay! I KNOW!” Mr. Stark pinched his nose, huffed in frustration and then calmed. “Thank you, Wong. We’ll see you in a bit.”
FRIDAY disconnected the call when Mr. Stark turned his attention to Peter. “Kid, I hope you appreciate what I’m about to have to do for you.”
Having no clue what the man was talking about, Peter nodded. “Okay, sir.”
Mr. Stark glared.
“I mean Mr. Stark.” Peter really was trying to keep his struggling from being too obvious, but was apparently failing. “I’m sorry. I’m just...” Peter trailed off as he started fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn’t figure out his place and it left him feeling off kilter. His default setting in those moments had always been hyper-politeness—even if Mr. Stark didn’t like it.
Peter would just have to try harder.
Mr. Stark pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, but said nothing. It was kind of nice and maybe would have given him a chance to catch his breath, except that—
“Alright, dear heart, I’ll see you in a few days.” Mrs. Stark blew a kiss over the phone line, and disconnected from her own call.
Peter’s mind drifted to the bedroom for just a second, wondered who Mrs. Stark would be speaking to like that, and then was forced to come back to Mr. Stark.
“—get that this is a weird time for you, kiddo, but we’ll get home and get you settled in at the tower in no time at all. Happy’s already pulling your stuff from storage and we’ll set up the room next to May’s so you’re close by—we can wait on all that ‘other stuff’ while we get things figured out, but you can make that call once you’re ready. Does that work for you?”
Peter nodded.
Mrs. Stark exited the bedroom, her phone still in hand. “Any luck with Wong?” She asked. “I couldn’t hear the drama over my own call.” She wiggled her phone in the air. “But things are set, right?”
Mr. Stark smiled at her, “You’ll be pleased to know that everything is under control. I’ll grab our bag and we’ll be off once he gets here.” He side-hugged Peter, then finally got up off the couch. “I will, however, take a minute to see if I can grab a quick meet-up with T’challa seeing as our departure timeline has moved up.”
Peter’s stomach dropped. He was leaving?
Peter didn’t notice as Mr. Stark stared down at Peter, saw something, and then crouched down to meet his eyes. “Unless... are you going to be good here with Pepper?”
He hadn’t meant to convey his hesitance at being left with Mrs. Stark. She’d been nothing but kind to him and he had no reason to be concerned—it was just that he hadn’t been away from Mr. Stark in the last days and hours and everything felt so damned raw—and it was written all over his face. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark, really!” He stared back and cursed the fact that he could feel himself tearing up. “I’m good.”
Mr. Stark crooked an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Okay,” he cried out at being called out. “I’m not good, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to go see Mr. King T’challa!”
Mr. Stark snorted at his response. “Kid, how many times am I going to have to remind you? You were literally spit out powerless into the middle of a battle for the universe after being dusted for five years and have only just started to find out how different things are. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m about ready to drop everything to make sure you’re okay, okay?”
Peter cringed and wished he’d stop bringing it up... like REALLY wished he’d stop. The constant reminder made him feel—well, he didn’t know how he felt, but it wasn’t fantastic, so he rolled his eyes and tried to play it off. “I get that, Mr. Stark. Honest. I just—“ he didn’t know how to say that he had to start figuring stuff out and that him being coddled wasn’t gonna help when all was said and done.  Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, who was watching with interest. “Look, Mrs. Stark is right here and I’m pretty sure she can keep me from setting the room on fire while you’re gone, and...” Beyond that, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Mr. Stark thought for a couple of seconds, then chuckled. “I’m being a bit of a helicopter parent, aren’t I?”
Rubbing the unfallen tears from his eyes, Peter just shrugged. “I guess?” He answered, but quickly qualified the answer, “But I know you’ve gone through stuff, too, so we’ve just gotta-- I don’t know, figure it out as we go?”
Mr. Stark just stared at him, like he was trying to figure something out, but not saying a word. 
“Mr. Stark, you’ll be back soon, right?”
He nodded.
“Then we’ll be fine.” Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, “Mrs. Stark can finish up with whatever she needs to do and I’ll see if I can find something to occupy myself for a bit. There’s a tonne of windows so I can check out all the scenery I’ve missed while laid up, and this suite has enough artwork to fill a wing at a museum! There’s stuff to do. You have to be back before Mr. Wong gets here anyways, so I know you won’t get distracted, right?”
Mr. Stark continued assessing. “You know that’s really sad, don’t you? Contenting yourself with looking out windows and checking out the pictures in the bathroom…”
Peter smiled back at him. “Just because I like science and building stuff doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something beautiful, Mr. Stark. I’m a well rounded sorta’ guy.” He brushed his knuckles against an invisible lapel. “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t know what it was, but something shifted and Mr. Stark seemed satisfied. “Alright, but if you decide you need me, you get Pepper to call me, okay?”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“Like if you miss me or feel sick or remember a joke you wanted to tell me, got it? No reason is a stupid reason if you need me here.”
Peter blinked back tears again at the obvious affection. “I’ve got it, Mr. Stark, but you should get going. You’ve only got forty-five minutes before Mr. Wong shows up.” He took a deep breath, then held it in.
“Right. Wong. Can’t wait for him to get here.” Mr. Stark replied dryly. “It’ll be great.”
Peter snorted. He almost wished he’d paid more attention to the call. “Yeah, it will be.”
“Well then,” Mr. Stark straightened up, and everyone politely ignored the popping and cracking of his back and knees. “I’m going to dash off really fast and then be right back.” He gave Mrs. Stark a quick peck on the cheek. “Take care of my spider for me, honey. He’s great entertainment when you’re looking for a distraction during a board meeting.” He gave Peter a wink, and then stepped toward the door.
Peter stood up and moved to stand beside Mrs. Potts.
Mr. Stark put a hand on the doorknob, stopped, and looked back over his shoulder at Peter and his wife. “Seriously, call for anything.”
With that declaration, Mr. Stark finally left the room.
The two of them simply stared at the door.
It took less than a minute for the silence to become awkward.   
“So, how’s the shoulder feeling, Peter?” Mrs. Stark questioned politely.
Maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable? “Oh,” Peter scrunched his forehead in thought as he cautiously moved his arm. “Um, wow.” He moved it a little more. “I think it’s better?!” He couldn’t hide his surprise as he stared back at her. “I wonder when that happened?”
Mrs. Stark smiled softly at him, “I don’t know, but I’m glad to know that you’re not in any pain.” She sat beside him on the couch and placed a tender hand on his arm. “It was hard for everyone to see you suffering— especially Tony so…”
“Yeah,” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck in discomfort. He didn’t like thinking about bothering other people when he was hurt, and this had been a situation he couldn’t work around. “Um, thanks, I guess?”
She smiled so kindly at him, but Peter didn’t know what to say, so the silence descended upon the pair once again.  
Then Mrs. Stark clapped her hands together, startling Peter in the process. 
“Art!” She blurted out. “You said that you wanted to look at some of the works in the suite, and it just so happens that Queen Ramonda gave me a little tour of the place before leaving us to settle in.” She was practically beaming. “I can give you some information on the pieces and maybe we can get to know each other a little… if you’d like?” 
Peter wanted to decline. The urge to mindlessly meander as he tried to figure out what his next steps were was almost physical. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to be alone until Mr. Stark had gone.
But Mrs. Stark looked almost hopeful.  
He smiled at her and hoped it didn’t look too fake, “I don’t want to take you away from whatever you have to do, Mrs. Stark.”
Her grin widened even more, if that was possible. “Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “We just need to grab our bags and we’re done—and I love doing stuff like this!” She stepped towards an incredible sculpture Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Did you know that before I completely flipped my life around and decided to go the Business Admin track at university, I planned to be an Art History major.”
Peter tried really hard to reconcile the Pepper Potts that ran Stark Industries and the Pepper Potts that would have spent her days walking the halls of art museums. 
“You can’t picture it, can you?”
The question brought him up short. “I don’t think I can.” He answered honestly, “But that doesn’t mean anything. I mean really, to know me, would you ever imagine that I run around Queens in a unitard and a mask?”  
She laughed out loud at the description, “Well, when you put it that way…”  
Peter laughed along too, quieter but sincere. 
When they’d both settled again, the quiet felt less tense, but Mrs. Stark still wouldn’t allow it to remain. “Do you really like art?” She asked, feeling less forced than the first time.
Peter didn’t think before he answered. “Yeah, I do. I was really looking forward to the field trip that day—my friend, MJ,” he blushed at the mention of her name. “She was going to show me a new photo exhibit that the museum had just opened up, and I was really excited to see it—plus Uncle Ben used to take me there when I was a kid.” He added, unprompted. “He needed to make sure my brain didn’t jam up with cogs and gears, he’d say.” He chuckled quietly, “But then…” Peter shrugged, the words no longer coming to him.
This time, the quiet served a purpose and so it was left to sit—until Peter was ready. 
“So, tell me about the statue.” Peter piped up as he walked towards it. “And I have to ask, because it’s me—Am I allowed to touch this? ‘Cuz it’s screaming for me to—”
Mrs. Stark took the cue, gladly it seemed. Heavy stuff was over for now and it was time to move on.
“Queen Ramonda didn’t say either way, but this bust dates back to the 1600s so I’d wager a guess that we’ll just be looking with our eyes today. Alright, Peter?” She put a firm hand on Peter’s back, but gave a teasing wink.
Peter slumped in mock defeat. “Fine,” he pretend-grumped and then spent the next twenty minutes really looking at each piece of art with snippets of information being shared by Mrs. Stark. “MJ would definitely love this.” He decided. “She says everything you need to know about a civilization is demonstrated by how it treats its artists.” He smiled. “I wish I had my phone so I could take some pics to show her how—“ He stopped talking. “Oh.” He was growing tired of fading off into new realizations.
Mrs. Stark noticed his shift in mood and moved closer to him, “Peter? Are you alright?”
Peter stopped himself from answering immediately and focussed on the painting in front of him. He was trying to wrap his brain around another ‘something’ that he hadn’t considered and needed to not have another stupid breakdown in front in front of someone he didn’t really know. Seriously, Mr. Stark was bad enough—but to do it in front of his wife? He let out a torturous scream... in his head, which synced up to the actual heavy sigh he released. “Mrs. Stark? How do I find out if someone was snapped?” He tried not to sound so lost and pathetic but it couldn’t be helped. “I mean, the last time I saw Ned and MJ, I was jumping off of a school bus and heading towards that stupid space donut and now it’s been five years so who knows where they could be?”      
She stepped closer still and put an arm around his shoulder. “There’s a registry, Peter. I can check it for you right now or we can check together when we get home, if you’d like... but maybe Tony already knows?” Mrs. Stark gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He was a little...” she seemed to search for a word before she continued, “hyper-focussed when he got back from Titan and anything that impacted the people in his inner circle was at the top of his agenda.” She turned to face him, keeping the contact. “That included you, so...”
Peter couldn’t make the decision. He simply couldn’t, and tried to let Mrs. Potts know, but all he could croak out was, “I... I...”
She enveloped the boy in a hug once she saw the impending panic, and he was remarkably okay with it, even as he tentatively returned the embrace.
“I know you don’t know me as well as the others, Peter, but I’ve gotten to know you through Tony and May—and I want you to know that I’m here for you, too, alright?”
He nodded into her shoulder.
“Doing all of this now, or in hour or even a day—it doesn’t change anything. It can wait until you’re ready. Okay? I know you’re physically all better now, but you’re still allowed to take time.”
He breathed in a calming breath, and exhaled.
“You have so many people in your corner, sweetie. You’ll get through this.”
He nodded again and stepped back from her after a second’s hesitation. “Um, thanks, Mrs. Stark. Sorry about that.” He chuckled nervously and dragged his hand through his hair.  
“That’s not something to apologize for, Peter. Not ever.” She lightly scolded. “Now, did you want to look at another painting? Or did—“
“I’d like to look!” Peter suddenly blurted and then realized how crazy he must have sounded. “I mean, um... would it be alright if I used your phone to take a look? – If it’s not too much trouble. I just... I’d... I really want to know. That’s all... I think.”
“That’s not a problem at all.” She collected her phone from the coffee table where she’d discarded it before their impromptu art tour and tapped at the screen. “I haven’t been on the app since before so I’m not sure if or how it’s been organized, but there is a search function.” She swiped the screen, tapped an icon, and handed the phone over. “It looks like we have another ten or so minutes before Tony gets back, and Wong should be shortly after, so...”
Peter took the phone and stared wide-eyed at the screen.
“Do you want me to look for you?”
Peter shook his head. “I think I’m okay. I think it’s just... I just did the whole ‘tell me now’ thing with May and that didn’t work out so well for me, ya’ know? And here I am doing it again like an idiot. I can’t help but think—” He cut himself off.
“I can understand your hesitancy.” Mrs. Stark offered. “You’re in control here, though, so just say the word...”
The screen darkened in warning of the pending lock screen. He swiped his thumb across the gorilla glass and it lit up again. He thought about it for a second then looked up at Mrs. Stark. “Would it be okay if I did this alone?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll just step out while you—“She moved toward the suite door.
“No!” He called out to her. “Please don’t leave—just, can you maybe just hang out in the other room?” He blushed at his neediness. “I don’t want to be ALONE alone—just a little alone. And this should only take a second, right?” He tried to explain, and failed.
“I completely get it.” She pointed toward the bedroom she’d shared with Mr. Stark. “I’ll sneak in there and wait until you decide you’re ready. Does that work?” She asked.
“Yeah, um, thanks.”
She didn’t say anything else, just stepped into the bedroom and smiled at him in encouragement as she closed the door behind her.
And Peter was left holding the phone, with a search screen glaring back at him.
It wasn’t a big deal, right?
He tried to convince himself as he sat himself down on the couch.
Of course it wasn’t.
Not at all.
Which was why he held his breath as he first typed in “Edward Leeds.”
A couple thousand “Edward Leeds” suddenly filled the screen, primarily out of the UK. Of course it couldn’t be that easy he thought, and Peter was almost overwhelmed—until he caught sight of the ‘refine search’ field at the top of the new screen.
He remembered the day he’d met his best friend, and how insistent the boy was that Edward was a loser name—that Ned was where it was at and he’d be forever known only by that... ‘but don’t tell my mom, okay?’ Peter chuckled as he typed exactly that under “Nicknames” and pressed ‘go.’
Three hundred seven “Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds” popped up that time, which was definitely a more manageable number, even if it still sucked. Peter wasn’t shocked to see that most of them were still scattered through the UK, but with the list not going on forever, he could see all of those other Neds scattered through Australia, Canada, and even parts of Africa and South America. The twenty-eight US Neds were scattered throughout the country—but he only had his eye out for one Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds of New York, specifically Queens—and the one word beside his name in red: BLIPPED.
It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be alone when he got back home, he frantically typed in “Michelle Jones.” He had to remind himself that she also had a nickname so he wouldn’t freak out completely when the kazillion Michelle Jones filled the screen. He hit ‘refine search’ once more and typed in the two letters—‘m’ and ‘j.’
0 results showing.
Peter entered her name again, hated himself just a little for not knowing her middle name—if she even had a middle name—and hit ‘go.’ He refined the search again. Hit ‘go’ again.’
0 results showing.
“shit.”
“Language, kid. My virgin ears can’t handle that kind of potty talk.”
Peter did NOT jump a couple of feet of the couch and let loose a high pitched scream of terror when the unexpected voice came from behind him.
The door to the bedroom flew open and slammed against the wall as Mrs. Stark rushed into the living room calling out, “Peter! What’s wrong?!”
Mr. Stark’s laughter told her everything she needed to know and before a chest clutching Peter had even turned completely to glare at the man, Mrs. Potts was smacking him on the arm. “Tony, you jerk! Be good!”  
“Hey!” He exclaimed as he tried to get away from his wife’s mock fury, “I didn’t know he hadn’t heard me come in!” He dodged another playful swat. “C’mon, Pep! Give me a break!”
She stopped her attack on Mr. Stark after giving him what Peter could only describe as a death stare and immediately turned her attention to Peter. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked.
Peter shook his head even as he tried to catch his breath. "Geez, Mr. Stark! Give a man some warning next time!"
Still trying to get his giggles under control, Mr. Stark defended himself. "You've got your Peter-tingle, kid. I figured you knew I was there!"
Mr. Stark was not endearing himself to the boy in this moment. "It's my spider-sense, Mr. Stark—Peter-tingle is stupid. I don't care what Aunt May says about it, and anyways, it only works when someone is trying to hurt or kill me. You don't count as that... even though I was about a second away from dying from a heart attack." Peter breathed deep, trying to calm his heart. "Geez. Not cool, man. Not cool at all."
Mr. Stark jumped over the back of the couch and landed with a bounce beside Peter. "Aw, kid. I am sorry, but you were just sitting there and I was so excited to tell you about my visit with T'challa-- but... yeah, I guess you were a million miles away then?
Peter couldn't speak for a few seconds, as his mind re-focussed on the phone in his hand. "Um, no. Not that far-- just in Queens, I guess?"
Mr. Stark looked confused. "Queens?"
"Yeah," he answered back. "I was checking to see who'd been snapped and who hadn't, and, yeah..."
The sadness reflecting in Mr. Stark's face told Peter that he knew. "Peter, you could have asked." He sighed. "We just keep messing up, huh?" He sidled up closer to Peter and slung his arm around him again. "Well, Ned was snapped, but I guess you've seen that, right?"
Peter nodded 'yes.'
"Don't panic about him," Mr. Stark assured him. "He's safe and sound with his family and is waiting for you to call him when you get home."
"How...?"
"Happy does more than empty storage lockers, buddy. I promise you, Ned and his family are fine and your Guy in the Chair is ready and waiting for your return."
"Thank goodness." Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "But did you check up on MJ, too? Where is she? Is she safe, too?"
"Well, your friend MJ, she obviously didn't get snapped," Mr. Stark gestured the phone in Peter's hand, "And by the time we were in communication with people there at the tower, she had already tried to set up camp in the lobby and was going to wait for me to get back... well, for you to get back, but that didn't work out so..."
Peter couldn't hide his confusion.
"Don't worry. She’s good, I promise. We set her up in a suite, too. Her mom had been snapped, but her step-dad was still in the picture so she decided she needed to bail, but fast. I guess he was a real winner so..."
Peter snorted at the understatement. "You could say that."
Mr. Stark did his crooked eyebrow thing and Peter knew he needed to explain. "Let's just say that Spider-Man had to make a visit or two to the apartment when MJ's mom was working overnight shifts.
Mr. Stark almost growled at that information. "Well then I don't feel nearly so bad about hiding her away until she could head off to college."
"Good. You shouldn't-- but college?"
"Of course college. MJ's smart as a whip, and I wasn't gonna let that brain rot at some community college because her low-life step dad was drinking away her college fund."
Peter smiled bigger than he could remember at that, "You sent her to college?"
"You know, you could just call her when you get back, you know. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. Besides, she may seem tough as nails, but that kid gets homesick just like the rest of them."
Peter flushed and fiddled with the phone he kept forgetting he still held. "Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure that twenty-three year old MJ is not waiting for a call from me."
"C'mon, Pete, maybe she's spent the last five years living a different life than you all had planned, but you were still one of her best friends and that doesn't change."
Peter smiled again, a little more tentative. "You don't think she'll think it's weird?"
And Mr. Stark laughed again. "It's MJ, of course she'll think it's weird, but if you think she'll give two craps about that, then you didn't know her nearly as well as you say you did."
Peter knew he was right, and was just about to say so when there was a knock at the door and Mr. Wong was hollering through it. "Let's go, Stark, I left something simmering on the stove back at the Sanctum Sanctorum."
Mrs. Stark was the one to actually open the door to the man, and Peter stood up to introduce himself to the man-- or at least he thought he would. Mr. Wong focussed completely on the man still sitting on the couch, "Stark."
Mr. Stark lifted himself off the couch and turned to face him. "Wong."
The men simply stared at each other, assessing, when Mr. Stark finally spoke. “Look, Wong, I shouldn’t have been so glib about the whole,” Mr. Stark waved his hands in the air, “thing, and I’m sorry. Let’s just call it good and be done, okay?”
Wong stared, but said nothing.
“Really?”
A dead stare.
“Ugh. Fine.”
Peter watched Mr. Stark work himself up to do... something. Whatever it was, it had to be awful for Mr. Stark’s reaction.
"Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then Mr. Stark stopped. He huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Are you really going to make me say this?"
Mr. Wong stared back, "You know my conditions."
"Fine."
Was Mr. Stark sulking?
He started again, "Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then he stomped his foot. "Look, I said I was sorry. I won't be so--"
"You'd have been done by now if you stopped delaying, Stark. I'm waiting."
Peter looked to the door where Mrs. Stark was still standing. She was looking just as confused as Peter felt.
Mr. Stark took a deep breath and started once more. "Oh, great and powerful Wong." He paused, but only to clear his throat. "It must have been cold there in my shadow, to never have sunlight on your face. You were content to let me shine, that's your way. You always walked a step behind. So I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength. A beautiful face without a name...”
Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing and side-stepped cautiously away from the men and closer to Mrs. Stark, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. “Um, Mrs. Stark, is Mr. Stark quoting Bette Midler lyrics?”
She could only nod.
“Okay,” he squeaked back. “Just wanted to make sure we were seeing the same thing.”
It took a minute for him to make his way through all the lyrics, but just as Mr. Stark rattled off the last lines of the song, Mr. Wong folded his arms and smiled in sick satisfaction. “Perfect. I’m sure Mr. Master of the Mystic Arts will appreciate your cooperation while he’s matching socks for the next month.”
Mr. Stark sputtered in disbelief, but before he could say an actual word, Mr. Wong turned to Peter, bowed, and smiled. “Ah, young Mr. Parker. It is a pleasure to finally meet you now that you are awake.”
Peter bowed back shyly, but Mr. Stark had finally found his words. “Wait a minute here. You said that I’d offended you and that you’d only forgive me if I quoted—“ He blustered a little more, “You said it was soothing!”
Mr. Wong laughed stiffly. “I know what I said! But I’d already bet Stephen that I could get you to quote a song from an 80s soundtrack and I really wanted to get out of laundry.”
“And making dinner, maybe? Is he actually watching that pot on the stove, too?” Mr. Stark snarked back.
“Nah. We’re ordering pizza tonight. I just wanted you to hurry, is all.” Wong turned his attention back to Peter. “And I can imagine you want to get home, too.”
Peter, who was quietly chuckling at the interaction, nodded. “Yes, please, Mr. Wong,” he answered back politely. “If it’s not a problem?”
“It’s just Wong, kid, and because you asked so nicely,” he made a point to stare accusingly at Mr. Stark and then looked back to Peter, “I’ll get right to it.” He addressed the room. “Do you have everything you need? Polite or not, I’m not coming back for a toothbrush.”
“I’m all set, Mr. Wong, but, I guess, um...” Peter stood patiently while Mr. And Mrs. Stark took the hint and rushed into the bedroom to do a quick once over and grab the already packed suitcase. It was barely a minute before they were back and ready to go.
Wong nodded in satisfaction. “Alright then, let’s go.”
Peter watched in fascination as Mr. Wong placed a weird ring on his left hand and started making a circular motion with his right. In only seconds, sparks flew and a circle formed, then grew larger, and larger—and then large enough that they’d all be able to step through without even needing to duck their heads. “How does this work? Do you come through with us?” Peter asked.
Mr. Wong smiled again and shook his head. “No, I’ll head back to the Sanctum and replay my memories for Stephen after you’ve all stepped through, so get a move on.” He gave a teasing wink then gestured to the circle, still sparking. “There’s nothing special to it, Peter. Whenever you’re ready.”
Peter’s capacity for boldness had apparently fled and he stared timidly at the circle.
Mrs. Stark stepped up, pulled her phone from Peter’s hand and then grabbed hold of it. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think I could go for pizza, too. What do you say, Peter?”
He appreciated the anchor, grabbed onto it. “Sure, Mrs. Stark. That sounds great.” He turned to Mr. Wong one last time. “Thank you for doing this, Mr. Wong. I’m grateful—and I guess for all the things you and the other wizards did for everyone.”
Wong snorted. “We’re sorcerers, Peter, and don’t let this guy tell you anything different.” He thumbed over at the waiting Mr. Stark. “And you’re welcome. Now go, kick your feet up, and order that pizza. We’ll see each other again.”
Peter grinned back at the man—sorcerer. “If you say so—take care.” And he and Mrs. Stark stepped through what Peter figured had to be some sort of portal. “Mr. Stark?” Peter called back, “Are you coming?”
“One sec, Pete,” Mr. Stark replied and turned back to Mr. Wong saying something that Peter couldn’t hear for the distortion between the two locations.
But if he could have heard, he’d have heard Mr. Stark give a tentative thank you for the show— that it would be something Peter could laugh about for a while.
And Wong’s reply. “He’ll need the happy memories, Stark. Help him make them.”  
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years
Text
In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Twenty One
Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader
Warnings: Far From Home spoilers
Masterlist
Authors Note: the final chapter is finally here. I cannot thank you enough for all the likes, reblogs, and comments. I appreciate it all so much. I’m still going to write so let me know if you want to be on my tag list for future updates. There’s a part in here inspired by Jane the Virgin but I won’t spoil it. As always, enjoy the story and thank you for reading. ❤️
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The room turned back into the warehouse and the voices stopped. Peter was no longer held at gunpoint, and was instead standing in front of you with a gun aimed at your forehead. Only, it wasn’t Peter. Beck turned himself into Peter when you were distracted by the voices. Peter was tied up and gagged as he was forced to watch his own clone hold the love of his life at gunpoint.
“Get up.” Beck said sternly in Peters voice. You raised your hands up and slowly got to your feet.
“Why are you doing this Peter?” Your voice trembled. Peters heart broke at your belief that that was really Peter.
“You saw things you weren’t supposed to. Stark left me his industry. This is what I’ve decided to do with it. Spider-Man won’t be treated like a kid when he defeats an Avengers Level threat like the Elementals. You were never supposed to know. Now you better run and never tell anyone what you’ve seen today.” Beck as Peter threatened.
“Why wouldn’t I hand your ass right over to Fury?” You asked cautiously.
“You’ve seen what I’m capable of. Is that a bet you’re willing to take?” Peter asked. “I can turn myself into you and destroy children hospitals, homeless shelters, nursing homes, you name it. I can ruin you. I can make you the enemy. Do not cross me, honey.”
“This isn’t you.” You decided. This wasn’t Peter.
“You don’t know me.” Peter replied. The real Peter recognized those words from when you had supposedly broken up with him. Beck was smart, but he wasn’t that good of an actor.
“Don’t I, Beck?” You smirked.
Beck dropped the gun as a bullet went through his chest. His Peter facade melted away as he hit the ground. Peter watched as Fury came out from behind Beck with a gun. Maria Hill untied Peter and helped him down.
“Now, who else knows about Beck other than you and Y/n?” Fury asked Peter. Peter looked around for you but he didn’t see you anywhere.
“I told Ned and he might’ve told his girlfriend, Betty. That’s it.” Peter told Fury.
“And do you think Y/n is gonna tell anyone?” Fury asked.
“She’s an investigative reporter. She’s gonna tell the whole world.” Peter said proudly.
Fury laughed and looked at a device on his wrist.
“You are so gullible, Peter. And thanks to you, I have to kill a bunch of kids.” Fury said as he turned into Beck. Peter felt like he was going to throw up. He had no idea how much was true and how much had been an illusion. Were you ever there at all?
“Where’s Y/n?” Peter demanded.
“I pretended to shoot at her until she left the building. I was disguised as you, of course. She thinks you’re gonna come after her again. And, who knows? Maybe you will. Or I will. And I’ll look her in sad little eyes and kill her, all while she thinks I’m you.” Beck forewarned.
“You wouldn’t.” Peter growled.
“I will. It doesn’t matter anyway. She will never forgive you Peter. Everything I said to you when I broke up with you cane directly from her. You’ve been neglecting her for Spider-Man’s sake. And now, she thinks you tried to kill her. There’s no use fighting it anymore, Peter. It’s over. It’s all over. Laters, baby.” Beck smiled and before Peter could speak, he was hit by a train at full speed. Peter clung to the side with his bloody hands. He used all his strength to pull himself up and get on the train. He woke up in a jail cell surrounded by foreigners. Peter let himself out and asked a vender for his phone. After being told he was in the Netherlands in a town Peter couldn’t pronounce, he called Happy.
Happy had never been too fond of Peter. He didn’t understand what Tony saw in a high school kid in red and blue pajamas. But Happy also knew that when Tony trusted someone, he trusted someone with all his heart. And Tony trusted Peter to carry on his legacy after he died. No matter what Happy felt towards Peter, he knew Peter had to be something special.
“Calm down.” Happy said after Peter slammed his fist down in pain. Happy had to patch Tony up a number of times and knew how to do sutures pretty well. He just didn’t know how to make it hurt less.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Peter yelled and got up angrily. Happy was surprised by his outburst after only ever seeing the timid side of Peter, vying for approval from Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Happy let Peter vent about his struggles with Tonys death, recognizing a child in need of comfort and support. And eventually, they got to his struggles with you.
“I love her, Happy.” Peter said hoarsely. “So much. Maybe a little too much.”
“I’m sure she knows that.” Happy assured him. The conversation made him reminisce in old conversations he had with Tony about his future with Pepper.
“How could she?” Peter laughed sadly. “I never should’ve listened to Ned. I should’ve taken her on those walks and sat with her on that stupid plan. I drove her right into the arms of another man. And now, I might never get the chance to tell her how sorry I am.”
“Why wouldn’t you get the chance?” Happy asked the teen.
“Because she has every right to never speak to me again. I yelled at her and called her a cheater. I didn’t trust her or listen to her when she tried to tell me something was wrong. And now, she thinks I tried to kill her. She probably hates me.” Peter dragged his hand down his grimy face. “I can’t think about this right now. I gotta tell Fury that Beck is a fraud.”
“Fury knows.” Happy informed Peter.
“What?” Peters head snapped in Happy’s direction. “How?”
“Y/n told him someone was going around pretending to be her, Loki, and then you.” Happy replied.
“And Fury believed her?” Peter asked. Fury wasn’t one to entertain half baked theories.
“Hell no.” Happy laughed. “But then she told him you held her at gun point-“
“It wasn’t me.” Peter interrupted.
“Yeah, I know, dipshit. Let me finish” Happy said grumpily. Peter sat down and didn’t make any further interjections. “Y/n said you held her at gunpoint and started saying a bunch of crazy stuff about taking over Stark Industries. She said you called Tony “Stark” which we all know, you never do. Fury still didn’t want to believe her but she was relentless. You should’ve heard her. She swore up and down that you’d never hurt her and it couldn’t possibly have been you. She said you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body. She refused to leave until someone believed her. So, Fury did some research and found out Beck used to work for Tony. He helped design BARF. We think he’s using the same technology to create the Elementals.”
“She figured it out.” Peter whispered, eyes gleaming with pride in you. “She figured out that Beck was the bad guy and and played dumb at the warehouse so he wouldn’t know she knew.”
“There would be a lot more casualties if it weren’t for her.” Happy nodded. “We’ve got eyes on Beck now but only you can stop him. Are you up for it?”
“Yes.” Peter nodded, now filled with pure adrenaline. “But could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, kid.” Happy sighed. Peter pulled out the Black Dahlia necklace and carefully handed it to Happy.
“In case someone happens to me, could you give this to Y/n? And tell her that I love her and that I’m sorry?” Peter requested.
“What do you mean in case something happens to you?” Happy asked for clarification.
“In case I don’t live forever.” Peter said decidedly.
“Uh, what?” Happy questioned.
“Sorry. It’s a reference. You wouldn’t get it.” Peter shook his head and thought of the song you sang him all those years ago. He always came back to the song as a source of comfort. The melody always carried in his thoughts like a safety net. “Just please give it to her?”
“I will, kid.” Happy nodded.
“And make sure she knows that if I died, I died loving her and wanting her forgiveness.” Peter continued. Happy had heard enough of Peters doubts. He knew Peter couldn’t go into battle thinking he wouldn’t come out.
“You’re not gonna die, Peter.” Happy said gently. “No one is gonna let them happen.”
“I know, but, just in case.” Peter said timidly. “Can you just promise me?”
“I promise.” Happy nodded.
Happy took the necklace and tucked it safely into his pocket. He felt guilty for having misjudged Peter all those years. Peter wasn’t a just kid in pajamas. He was a good person who’d do anything to keep people safe. As Happy watched Peter crafting his new suit, he was again reminded of Tony. He saw little flecks of Tony’s personality blooming in Peter.
“How about some music?” Happy asked as Peter did his thing.
“Can I request something?” Peter asked as he slid his arm into a virtual web shooter.
“Go ahead.” Happy replied.
“Could you okay In Case You Don’t Live Forever by Ben Platt?” Peter asked nicely.
“Is there a specific reason?” Happy asked as he typed the title into the music player.
“Y/n sang it to me once.” Peter smiled in light of the memory. Happy didn’t look amused. “Please? It helps me focus.”
Happy sighed and pressed play. He watched as Peter sang along softly and sighed. He hoped more than anything that Peter would be the one to give you the necklace.
Happy and Peter split up. Peter went inside the smoke monster as Happy went to find you and Ned and Betty.
Happy found MJ, Flash, Ned, Betty, and you running down the bridge in fear of the monster.
“I need you all to get in the jet.” Happy shouted above the chaos as he tried to corral you all towards the jet.
“Who are you?” MJ asked. You nodded, also not recognizing the man.
“I’m Happy Hogan. I work with Spider-Man.” Happy announced, still trying to lead you to the jet.
“You work for Spider-Man?” Flash squeaked, still love streaming the entire event.
“I work with Spider-Man, not for Spider-Man.” Happy clarified, sounding a little offended.
“Where is Spider-Man?” You asked, careful not to call him by his first name.
“Yeah, where is he? Is he okay? Is he in peril?” Flash shoved you out of the way to get closer to Happy, desperate to know his idol was okay.
“He’s fine.” Happy assured. “But I really need you all to get into the jet.” Happy pointed to the jet right as it blew up. Happy turned back to you all and looked around.
“New plan. Everyone get in the Crown Jewels vault.” Happy shouted, pointing towards the exhibit. You all ran towards the vault as drones gunned you down.
Once inside, everyone split up and hid behind a different pillar in the armor vault. You tried to slow your breathing so the drone wouldn’t hear you and find you. Just as you thought you were in the clear, Betty knocked over a suit of armor and the drones started firing like crazy. Everyone ran into the crime jewels vault and Happy blockaded the door. The drones continued to fire at the door, leaving dents in it with each bullet and weakening it severely. Everyone knew the outcome couldn’t be good. Happy did his best to calm you down, but there was no use in telling a bunch of teenagers who were about to die that everything would be okay.
“We’re about to die and I wasted my life playing video games!” Ned confessed in a panic.
“I have a fake ID and I’ve never even used it!” Betty admitted, just as fearful.
“I post stupid videos online so people will like me!” Flash chimed in in the spirit of confessing things before you all were shot but drones.
“I’m obsessed with telling the truth even if it hurts other people’s feelings!” MJ shouted.
“I’m in love with Spider-Man’s aunt!” Happy blurted. Everyone looked at him. You knew what your confession had to be.
“We are Venom!” You yelled as you turned into Venom and punched the drone square in the center. It shattered around your fist and fell to the ground. You let out a roar and shot a web out of both wrists. They latched on to two drones on either side of you. You pulled the webs together and the drones smashed into each other, breaking upon impact. You grabbed a drone with a gun aimed at Flash and bit in in half. You smashed a drone pointed at Ned and Betty to the ground and punched one aiming at MJ. You grabbed the last drone that was about to fire at Happy and ripped in in two. You threw it on the floor and stomped on all the drones until they were nothing but dust. You turned back into yourself and turned around to face the group. You met with several stunned faces, minus Ned who already knew.
“You’re Venom?” Flash squeaked.
“No.” You blurted. Venom slinked around your neck hovered above your left shoulder. “I’m not.”
“We are Venom.” Venom smiled. Flash passed out and Happy bent down to catch him.
“How did I not notice? I notice everything.” MJ whispered, questioning her entire schtick.
“If you’ve got things handled here Happy, I have something to take care of.” You said as you spun on your heel to leave.
“Wait!” Happy called. “Take this.” He pulled a broken necklace out of his suit pocket and handed it to you. You touched the black petals with your nail and looked at him in confusion.
“It’s from Spider-Man.” Happy said gravely. Flash snapped awake.
“Spider-Man?” He asked, eyes wide. You looked at the flower pendant before racing out of the vault. You ran down the Tower Bridge until you saw Peter, clad in a new spider suit. He was limping and looked like he’d been through hell. You ran towards him as fast as your legs could carry you.
“Wait!” Peter held up a hand when he saw you. You did as he asked and stopped where you were. “Tell me something only you would know.”
“You cried after our first time and told me your ATM code.” You blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind. You remembered laughing at him as he begged you never to repeat what happened.
“What was the code?” Peter asked, still cautious and keeping his distance.
“6969.” You said seriously.
You and Peter stared at each other, panting from the chaos, before small snickers escaped both your lips.
“It is you.” Peter sighed in relief. Come here.”
You ran into his arms as he limped over to you. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and squeezed. Peters arm went to your waist and he closed his eyes as he took in your scent. It was you. Really you.
“Are you okay?” You said into his shoulder.
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” Peter asked.
“I’m okay. Everyone’s okay.” You assured him.
You pulled apart and brushed your fingertips over a bruise on his cheek. Peter leaned into your touch after being deprived of it for so long. You stared at him fondly for a minute.
“Uh, there was this sweaty guy in the jewels vault with us.” You suddenly remembered. I think he said he works for you. He gave me this.” You pulled out the Black Dahlia necklace and held it out for Peter to see.
“Oh no!” Peter gasped. “It’s broken. Y/n, I’m so sorry. I tried to give it to you earlier as a part of this stupid plan and I-“
“It’s okay.” You cut off his apology. “I actually like it better broken.”
Peter smiled in relief and stared at you again.
“Y/n, I cannot apologize enough for this trip. Everything went wrong. I’ve been terrible to you. I don’t even know why you came back for me.” Peter spoke sadly.
“Oh, I’ll always come back for you.” You said, matter of factly. “But you didn’t. You didn’t come back to me for five years.”
“I know and I’m so sorry-“ Peter tried to apologize again.
“I forgive you.” You interrupted. “I forgive you for leaving. Because even though I know it wasn’t on purpose-“
“It hurts like it was.” Peter finished, remembering Brads words.
“Yeah.” You nodded, unable to express how happy you were that he understood. You were finally making progress and telling each other what’d you’d bottled up for so long.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you about the break up. I know that wasn’t you. I should’ve trusted you when you said someone else was doing it.” Peter took your hands in his gloved ones and looked you sincerely in the eyes.
“It’s okay. Mysterio fooled everybody, not just you. And I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Loki or the snap.” You finally admitted the words to Peter.
“No, it’s okay. Fake you made a good point. There was never a good time to tell me. But is that really true? Did you really snap?” Peter asked.
“I had too. Someone needed to do it and I was the only one with nothing to lose.” You answered. You didn’t really remember that day. Snapping took a lot out of you. There were large gaps in your memory. The one thing you knew for certain was that you did it in the hopes of Peter Parker’s eyes gazing at you one last time, even if you weren’t there to gaze back.
“But you could’ve died.” Peter choked out. He had wished it hadn’t been true, and that Mysterio made that part up. Peter hated to think about you being so careless with your life when his whole life revolved around you.
“I died the day you and Venom disappeared.” You stated. “I didn’t care if I died that day too. All that mattered to me was bringing everyone back.”
“I don’t deserve you.” Peter shook his head and looked down at your intertwined hands.
“Yes you do. And I deserve you. In every version of reality, we deserve each other.” You spoke, remembering your conversation with Doctor Strange at the funeral.
“Who told you that?” Peter wondered.
“A little doctor friend of mine.” You smiled coyly.
Peter smirked at the thought of the all powerful Doctor Strange helping two kids fall in love.
“I just wish you would’ve told me all of this was happening. Venom and I could’ve helped you.” You changed the subject, but wanting the honesty to stop. If you didn’t air it all out now, you feared you never would.
“We’re always here for you, Peter. Even when we want to eat you.” Venom said as she rested comfortably on your shoulder.
“I know.” Peter sighed, ashamed of his own stupidity. “But I didn’t want to involve you after all you’ve been through. I had to do this on my own. The world needs its next Iron Man.”
“No.” You put your hands on Peters face and made him look at you. “The world needs Spider-Man.”
Peter was quiet as he though about what you said. You’d always believed in him. You made that very clear. Peter was forever grateful that he had you by his side. You never doubted him, unlike the rest of the world.
“Look, Peter.” You said softly. “I love that you’re Spider-Man. But I love Peter Parker more. And I never get to see him.”
“I know, peaches. I’m sorry for that too. Beck, uh, Mysterio told me you said I’d been neglecting you because of Spider-Man and that’s why you broke up with me. Or, why he broke up with me, as you. Is that true? Is that really how you feel?” Peter asked, scared of what your answer might be.
“Peter, I’d never break up with you because of your job. I know how important Spider-Man is to you. You love me, yes?” You asked.
“Yes.” Peter nodded, but understanding why you’d ever doubt that or need clarification.
“And I love you?” You went on.
“Yes.” Peter confirmed.
“Then that’s all I need. If you need to take some time to do some navigating or if you need some space, that’s fine. And if you have to ditch me at a four hour opera to go save the world, that’s fine too.” You laughed gently. Peters eyes became wet with tears of joy. “I’d never get mad at you for that. Yes, I wish I could see you more. But I’m not gonna solve that problem by breaking up with you. If I have to spend some nights alone because you’re out there saving the world, then, well.” You shrugged. “Whomp whomp.”
“Whomp…whomp?” Peter questioned.
“Yea. Whomp whomp.” You repeated. “I just mean, it’s not a big deal. I’m never gonna get mad at you for doing your job. You can be Spider-Man as often as you need. I’ll always be there when you get back.”
“I’ll always be there too.” Peter nodded.
You bit your lip, deciding to be completely honest with Peter. It was the only way to make your relationship last. “Will you?”
“What?” Peter asked, visibly hurt. “You don’t believe me?”
“I want to believe you.” You touched his face again. “But I’ve been having a hard time letting you back into my life because I’m scared you’ll disappear again. I can’t handle that. You’re out on the streets every night doing beyond dangerous things. You’ve been hurt badly before, just look at you now. And I’ll always be there to patch you up, but what if you don’t get back to me in time? How can I know you won’t leave again? Can you guarantee me you’ll always come back?”
“No.” Peter said simply. “I can’t guarantee that.”
You sighed and looked away from Peter, taking his words as a defeat.
“I can’t guarantee I’ll always come home. But I can guarantee forehead kisses every morning when you wake up, cups of tea when you’re sleepy, a hand to hold when you’re scared, eyes to look back at you and arms to hold you. I can guarantee you will never doubt wether or not you are beautiful. I can guarantee a lifetime of celebrated birthdays and poorly made birthday cards. I can guarantee someone to listen to your fears and your dreams and everything in between. I can guarantee an undeniable feeling that you are loved for as long as I walk this earth. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be here. But I can guarantee you all of that.” Peter spoke from his heart. He’d never had a way with words, but his little monologue left your heart glowing and knees week.
“Is that a lifetime guarantee?” You asked as you brushed a curl off his sweaty forehead.
“Absolutely.” Peter confirmed.
“No return policy?” You asked coyly.
“Nope.” Peter shook his head.
“And I don’t have to pay shipping and handling?” You pretended to gasp.
“I-what?” Peter was lost on your attempt at sounding like an infomercial.
“Then I’d like to place an order.” You ignored his confusion and continued with your bit.
“Are you 18 or older?” Peter asked, finally catching on. “If not, you’d need a parent or guardians permission.” Peter said in his best talk show host voice.
“Okay, we have to stop. I’m going to throw up on the London Bridge.” You laughed and pretended to gag.
“It’s actually called the Tower Bridge but-“
You cut Peter off with a kiss. Peter sighed against your lips and kissed you back. It’d been forever since your last kiss. You slid your hands into the curls at the back of his neck and gave them a gentle tug. Peter placed his arms securely around your waist and lifted you off the ground. Despite being surrounded by rubble and tiny fires, it was the most romantic kiss of your life. You pulled away and sighed happily.
“I love you, Peter Parker.” You said, still wrapped in his arms.
“I love you too. More than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” Peter smiled.
“You really love that song, huh?” You laughed, recognizing the lyrics.
“I do. And I really love you too.” Peters eyes suddenly widened. “I have something else to give you.”
Peter got down on one knee and pulled out the ring he had made for you with trembling hands.
“Oh, Peter.” You whispered as you put a hand over your mouth. “You got me a promise ring?”
“No.” Peter said firmly. A little smile appeared on his battered face. “This is an engagement ring.”
You couldn’t speak. You felt a completely new sensation bubble up in your chest. You put your hand over your heart to keep it from giving out.
“It was originally going to be a promise ring, but I don’t think we need that anymore. We’ve already made our promises to each other. I was gonna wait and get you the biggest engagement ring that the worlds ever seen, but you just reminded me that materialistic things don’t matter. All that matters is that we love each other. So, I hope you’ll accept this little pebble on a band.” Peter professed.
“I accept.” You took hand away from your mouth momentarily to get the words out.
“In that case, Y/n L/n.” Peter took a deep breath. “Will you-“
You dropped to your knees so you were at his level.
“Yes.” You interrupted
“Marry-“
“Yes.” You said louder, thinking he didn’t hear you.
“Can I say the words?” Peter laughed.
“Yeah, of course, sorry.” You nodded profusely.
“Okay.” Peter took another deep breath. “Y/N L/n, will you-“
“Yes.” You interrupted again.
“Let me say it!” Peter yelled with a smile.
“Sorry.” You urged him to go on.
“Will-“ he began again.
“Yes.” You face palmed. You weren’t even meaning to interrupt him. You were just so excited. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”
“Will you marry me?” Peter rushed out before you could interrupt him.
“Absolutely not!” You said as you pulled his sweet face in for a kiss. Peter kisses you back as he pulled you to your feet. You broke apart briefly so Peter could slide the ring on your finger before kissing him again.
“What’s going on? Are you pregnant?” Venom interrupted.
“No.” Peter laughed. “We’re engaged.”
“At this age?” Venom asked, sounding a little too much like Captain America for your liking. “I heard you tell Dani on the phone that Peter was at least 8.”
“I wasn’t talking about his age.” You quipped. “And we don’t have to get married right away. We can have a long engagement. Everything will be alright.” You said as Peter nodded. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and admired the ring on your hand.
“We should probably get back to the class.” Peter sighed, not ready to go back to reality just yet.
“You should change first.” You gestured to Peters spider suit. “Unless you want Flash to have a heart attack.”
“Right.” Peter laughed. “I’ll meet you there?”
“I’ll be there.” You smiled. Peter nodded and pressed another kiss to your lips.
“See you soon, fiancée.” Peter grinned as the words rolled off his tongue. He skipped in the opposite direction to go get changed. You watched him throw his fists in the air in celebration and laughed at his giddiness.
“I’d say our move to New York was a success. Wouldn’t you, baby?” You asked as you walked back to the London Tower.
“If you consider getting a child bride successful.” Venom sassed. You laughed and ran towards where you last saw Happy. You had some news to tell him.
This time around, Peter sat with you on the plane and you watched your favorite movie with his dual headphone adapter. You snuggled into his chest and felt him laughing at the funny moments. Brad watched you guys and smiled to himself a little.
Back at the apartment, you helped Peter unpack his bags. A few of his things had been blown up, but most things were saved.
“So.” You said as you slid Uncle Ben’s borrowed suitcase under Peters bed. “Who’s gonna tell Aunt May we’re engaged?” You asked as you waved your hand with the ring on it in Peters face. Peter laughed and kissed your knuckles.
“It depends on if you think she’ll fall for the “technically I’m 23 I just happened to blip” excuse or not.” Peter replied.
“It should be you. I can’t imagine she’d be too pleased when I tell her her 18 year old nephew came back from Europe engaged.” You remarked. Peter rolled his eyes in agreement before pressing another kiss to your knuckles. “I love seeing that ring on your finger. My ring.” Peter grinned proudly.
“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.” You repeated the words you said to him when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. Peter smiled, recognizing the words. You both jumped out of your happy daze when you heard the laundry basket May was holding drop. You both looked slowly and saw Aunt May standing in the doorway, eyes trained on the ring on your finger. Mays eyes widened at the sight.
“What the fu-“
The End
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Text
An Angel Cake for an Ex-Angel
👉 Read it on Ao3
Warning – Destiel tooth-rotting fluff / domestic fluff / human!Cas / established Destiel / Sam makes an appearance for plot’s sake.
Summary – Cas is depressed and Dean is looking to make him feel better by baking him an angel food cake (yeah he fails a few times).
w/c – 2.4k
A/N – Sometimes you sit to work on your wip and something pops up on tumblr and the muse hits you and you write a whole ‘nother fic instead. You’re welcome.
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When Castiel first found himself to be a human, things were OK. But too soon, Castiel seemed to lose his interest in things. He stayed quietly in his room in the bunker and mostly stopped doing the human things he’d just picked up on, like eating, showering, and not wearing the same clothes every day.
Castiel had been under the weather for almost two weeks now. Dean couldn’t take it. Since Castiel was human, he wanted him to experience all the fun stuff. Food, beer, but mostly food. He wanted to take him to his favourite burger places, and he had even planned a road trip for the best pie in each State.
But Castiel wasn’t feeling it. He was sleeping all the time and his energy was all the way down. Dean had bunker fever – he wouldn’t dare leave on a hunt with Castiel like this at home – and he felt powerless. He had started to drink pretty early after breakfast now.
Sam couldn’t take the whole scene anymore so he’d gone to help some hunters with a vampire nest. Dean was drinking alone in the kitchen, starting to feel depressed himself. He hated it.
Castiel showed up around 11 a.m., a robe thrown over his sleeping apparel, which was boxers and an old zep t-shirt of Dean’s. Castiel’s hair was intensely ruffled and flattened in places, his eyes were more sunken than Dean remembered, and his beard was 4 days old. In spite of all that, Dean thought he was a sight. He wished he could make him feel the way he felt about him.
“Dude, you need coffee. I’m gonna make you some coffee.” Castiel sat at the table. “Thanks.” He saw the beer. “What time is it?” Dean answered while measuring grounds. “11. Why?” “Nothing. I thought it was later, because of the beer.” Dean stopped mid-air with the spoon. He closed his eyes. “Dean, it’s not your fault I’m like this.” Dean finished preparing the coffee. “Yeah but it seems there’s nothing I can do to help.” “Dean, the contrast between the amount of energy with my grace and the amount of energy in a human body is too immense. I’ll be fine. I just need to adapt.” Dean took a mug from the shelf. “You need to let me help you, that’s what. Man, please let me help you.” Castiel looked Dean in the eye. Dean’s knees went a bit weak from the intensity of the blue in Castiel’s eyes. That never changed. Cas is still Cas. “Alright, Dean. I’ll let you.” Dean flashed a big smile. Castiel smiled softly.
He brought Castiel his coffee. “I know what I’m gonna do.” Castiel took a cautious sip. “Yes?” Dean downed the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m gonna bake you a cake.” “A cake.” “Yes! Not any cake. An angel food cake.” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like a kid at his fantastic idea. Castiel squinted. “That is very bizarre. Angels don’t eat.” Dean’s heart swelled each time Castiel made that kind of matter-of-factly beside the point comment. He crossed the kitchen in three paces, took Castiel’s face in his hands and gave him a big kiss on the forehead. “Man, I love you so much.” Castiel still squinted. “I love you too, but you don’t make sense.” “Dude! That cake is so light, fluffy and good, you’ll feel like an angel again. That’s how good it is. Get it?” He wiggled his eyebrows again. Castiel’s expression softened. “I highly doubt it, knowing exactly what it feels like to be an angel.” He saw Dean pout. “But OK. I’m willing to try it.” Dean pumped his fist in the air. “YES!” Castiel became serious again. “Dean, are you drunk?” Dean straightened up a bit too wobblily. “No. I’m cocktail.”
Castiel drank his coffee slowly while watching Dean open another beer – to celebrate – get the recipe on his phone and get the cake going. Soon enough, the cake was in the oven. “Are you done with your coffee, Cas? I’ll wash the mug with the rest.” Castiel brought his mug to Dean, who was already filling the sink. He hugged Dean from behind, his arms around him, his forehead on his shoulder. “Hey buddy, what’s up.” “I’m snoozy,” came the answer, muffled in Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, now. I wash, you dry.” “Mh.” Castiel reluctantly let go of Dean – which earned him a fluttery kiss on the cheek – and dried the dishes.
After they were done, Castiel took a peek in the oven. “Looks good.” Dean joined him. “No it doesn’t. Why doesn’t it rise? Dammit. I fudged something.” Castiel rested his cheek on Dean’s shoulder. I’m sure it’ll taste good anyway.” Dean shook his head. “I don’t care. It has to be fluffy. It’s part of the experience. No half-ass cake for my angel.” “Dean, I’m not…” Dean cut him. “Cas, you’ll always be my angel.” Castiel smiled softly against Dean’s shoulder.
Dean threw everything out and Castiel made him promise to sober up before going out for more eggs and other ingredients, which happened later that afternoon. Castiel threw some clothes on and went with him, but wanted to stay in the car. “Man, I don’t care that you look like a hurricane. Come in with me.” “I don’t care either. It’s just going to be faster if I stay here and keep an eye on Baby.” “Nonsense. Come on! You love grocery stores. You’re always fascinated by something.” Castiel thought about it a few seconds. “It’s true. OK. I’ll go with you.”
Attempt #2 was right after dinner. Castiel wasn’t hungry, so he barely touched his plate. Dean got busy – again, with a celebratory beer – baking the cake. Castiel watched closely, trying to follow the recipe. Dean put the timer and they set out some board game to pass the time. They were almost through the cooking time that Castiel said, “Smells like burning.” Dean hurried to the oven. “SHIT.” He quickly turned the oven off, opened the door and tried to vent the smoke. “The hell I did now?” Everything went into the trash again. Dean switched to whiskey.
The morning after, Castiel got to the kitchen a little before 10 a.m. His eyes were better than yesterday but the rest was still a mess. The beard was growing in nicely. Dean welcomed him with a smile and a coffee mug. “Hello sunshine!” He kissed Castiel on the top of his cheek, close to his eye. “Here’s your coffee.” “Thank you Dean.” Castiel sat with his coffee and eyed Dean’s glass in his hand. “That’s not coffee.” Dean smiled. “Nope. I’m changing the parameters. Beer is good for making burgers. Whiskey is better for baking.” Castiel couldn’t help but smile. “I hope it helps.” “This will also help,” Dean said, as he handed his phone to Castiel. “Here, read the recipe out loud to me. Maybe it’ll stick better if I hear it in your voice.” Castiel shook his head, amused. “You’re a strange man, Dean.” Dean winked at Castiel. “Hey. There has to be something to balance out against all the handsome.” Castiel laughed. “OK. Here’s the recipe.”
The third attempt went well and Dean stood proud looking at his cake cooling on the rack. “You’re sure the cake stays in the pan? Read again, Cas.” Castiel checked the phone. “Yes. And it says 3 hours to cool.” Dean took a swig from his whiskey. “That means we have plenty of time to get you looking decent.” Castiel squinted. “Decent?” “Man, I haven’t kissed you properly in days because you stink and you haven’t brushed your teeth. You need serious grooming. And you can’t have angel food cake if you don’t at least look the part.” Castiel seemed surprised. Dean added, “Come on, man. I worked super hard on this. Let’s get you decent.” Castiel seemed to search Dean’s eyes. “I think you’re looking for an excuse to come in the shower with me.” Dean flashed a soft smile. “You bet I do.” “You’ve already shown me how to shower, Dean.” “That’s not what I mean,” Dean answered, as he coaxed a perplex Castiel to the bathroom.
Dean had Castiel brush his teeth first. Then, Castiel and Dean stripped and stepped into the shower. Dean was easily overwhelmed by the soft, sad, tired eyes of Castiel. He kissed his lips softly. “Let’s get you clean, man.” “I know how to do it, Dean.” Dean stroke Castiel’s jaw with his thumb. “Then show me. Lather me.” Castiel, much to Dean’s not-surprise, went pretty methodically. He lathered Dean up with the soap and his hands, and then put him under the shower head and made sure it was all rinsed out. “And my hair?” Castiel shampooed and rinsed Dean’s hair. Dean chuckled. “Good execution. Congrats.” “I’m glad my method is appropriate.” Dean full-on laughed. “Appropriate is the right word, alright!” He took the soap in his hand. “Now, this is another way to do it.”
Dean lathered up his hands real good, all the while holding Castiel’s gaze. He got closer and lathered him slowly, softly, with his hands. It was not particularly sexual, but all his fondness for Castiel went into his movements, conveying how he cared about him. He rinsed him out and kissed his shoulders, and reached for the shampoo. He took his time to massage Castiel’s scalp, with his fingertips and his full hands, again showing his ever-angel he’s cared for. Castiel closed his eyes and put his hands on Dean’s waist. “This is so relaxing…” “So you like it.” “I might get used to that.” Dean smiled a kiss against Castiel’s cheek and rinsed him out.
Dressed in boxers, both men stood in front of the bathroom mirror. “Do you want to keep the beard?” “Do you like it?” Dean smiled. “Cas, you’re handsome as hell either way. So it’s your call. If you want to keep it, we can trim it a bit, so it looks clean and sharp.” Castiel scratched his beard and grimaced a bit. “I think I want it off. I’ll feel more like myself I think.” Dean gave Castiel the clipper and the razor, and Castiel proceeded and cleaned up.
Castiel finished toweling off his face and looked at Dean in the mirror. “Better?” Dean looked in Castiel’s eyes. “Do you feel better?” “Yes.” “Then yes, it’s better.” Dean hugged Castiel from behind, his arms wrapped around him, his chin rested on his shoulder, his eyes closed. He squeezed Castiel a little. Castiel wrapped his arms over Dean’s and rested his cheek on Dean’s head. “You worry about me.” For only answer, Dean squeezed him again a little. “I’m sorry to cause you such worry, Dean.” “It’s alright Cas, as long as you don’t shut me out. Just let me help.” Castiel gave Dean’s embrace a squeeze as well. “OK. I promise.” Dean let go, planted a quick kiss on Castiel’s neck and declared, “OK, now, we can’t spend the rest of the day in boxers, so let’s get dressed.”
The showers didn’t take 3 hours so there was still time to spare. Dean couldn’t take his hands off his human angel, giving him a squeeze here, a pat there, and it seemed to work. Castiel was smiling more, and he was starting to hug Dean back and give him little kisses. Dean beamed each time. He even managed to get Castiel to pin him against the wall and kiss him breathless.
They decided to go out for a late lunch and stopped to eat it by the river. They then sat on a big rock and watched the stream. Castiel saw a fish. Dean wrapped himself around Castiel, who gave him little kisses. Dean looked at his watch. “We have a good half hour of sitting here and look for fish before heading back. Is that good with you?” Castiel tucked his nose under Dean’s jaw line. “Yes, Dean.”
Back at the bunker, Dean and Castiel saw Sam was back, his car being parked outside. Dean got in the kitchen first. “Hey Sammy! How were the vamps?” “Heads rolled.” Sam pointed to the upside-down cake pan on the cooling tray. “Who’s baking?” Dean answered as he reached for a knife and plates. “Me! It’s angel food cake. Get it?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam. Sam shook his head. “So that’s what you do when I’m out doing our job? You play in the kitchen?” Dean repeated, annoyed, “Angel food cake! Get it??” Sam got it, but was not going to give Dean the satisfaction. He turned to Castiel. “What’s his prob – whoa. You look better, man. What happened?” “Dean happened. He asked me to let him take care of me and I accepted his offer.” “Seems to be working.” Dean chimed in, “Yeah. And now, we’re having angel food cake.” Sam finally smiled. “Alright, alright. I’ll go put this away – he shouldered his bag – and I’ll be right with you.”
Dean gave everyone a big piece of cake with whipped cream and berries. Sam was impressed. Castiel didn’t know he was supposed to be impressed, but since he witnessed the failed attempts, he had a feeling success was not easy with this cake. He took a bite, under Dean’s watchful eye. Castiel’s eyes widened and he turned to Dean, chewing. He started to say something with his mouth full when suddenly he just shut his eyes and kept chewing slowly. He licked his lips. Finally, he opened his eyes and turned to Dean. “This. This is the best cake. Granted, I haven’t had other cakes, but I’m sure this is the best cake in the whole world.” He took another bite. “Mmm…” Sam had an amused smile. “If you two need to be alone…” Dean turned to Sam. “Me and Cas or Cas and the cake?” Sam forked a piece of cake. “Moron.”
After cleaning up, Castiel announced he needed a nap, probably because he’d had too much cake. When he said that, he’d given Dean’s thigh a little squeeze under the table. Dean announced he needed a nap too. Before Sam could even roll his eyes, he was up and following Castiel to his room. As Dean closed the door behind them, he heard Sam shouting, the voice clearly coming from the fridge: “What the hell are we going to do with 3 dozens of egg yolks? DEAN!!!”
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The prompt itself. So I wrote this and my day was gone lol I know, it’s not drawing, and Dean isn’t super drunk either. But hey, a prompt’s a prompt and what happens happens. :)
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autoplaysdigimon · 4 years
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Hey y'all, just wanted to post a quick update about what's happening.
So I've mentioned before the logistical problems I'm having with writing updates, but the individual games that I'm doing themselves have their own damn problems:
Dawn and Dusk are just so damn awkward to do both at once! There's no easy way to set up the two folders of images to be visible at the same time, the text is too small to read even on the largest folder size and I didn't necessarily do the same things at the same time for each game, making it extra difficult to sync up. (At least it's the only time I have to do two games at once NO WAIT IT ISN'T I get to do this twice more! One time with THREE GAMES AT ONCE!!! why do I do this to myself lmao)
Digimon World 2 has that weird mix up with the video order, and I can't figure out if the ones I need are missing or just in the wrong order or what the heck. Being that it's a game that I'm far less familiar with than, say, Digimon World 1 was, I'm having a lot of trouble figuring out exactly what is missing.
It doesn't help that both Digimon World 2 and Dawn/Dusk were games that dragged out for SO LONG near the end of my actually playing them (both my fault to be fair, DW2 I didn't get the hang of efficient DNA Digivolving and Dawn/Dusk I got carried away in leaving them to grind on the Farm Islands), so in my brain I've already spent far too long on them already. They're pretty sparse on actual content in the videos, a staple of the RPG genre, to be fair.
Even the anime is giving me trouble! The setup it requires disrupts my usual workspace - I have to change the TV away from the usual podcasts and let's plays that I usually have in the background of my working, which mucks up my layout with all the folders and everything, and I need to switch frequently between actively watching it and having background music on while I caption and write. Hell, having to go back and forth between the show and photoshop when I have to caption a long line is an ordeal in itself. Plus... and this is entirely an opinion based problem, but I get the same arc fatigue from the Dark Masters arc that I did from the two games. It's a great arc, I enjoy a lot of it, but I'm also sitting there going "okay that's great but be over soon! It's time for 02! It's so clooooose!!" I'm aware that this is very much a Me Problem. Also, if I don't go back to it at all, then Piximon will be fine forever! :(
Even the games I'm currently playing are being bastards! The one that I've already talked about in the previous post, which I referred to as Adventuring with Giant Lizards, is giving me serious end game fatigue also of my own doing as I finish up sidequests and the like. This isn't entirely arbitrary, I ended up having to do some major grinding anyway. I'm actually very close to being able to fight the final boss I think, so hopefully I can get that finished soon. I recently finished the game that will come after Monster Racers, lets call it Super Mafia Bros, but the sequel is giving me a hard time right now. Soooooo all of that to say that video games are making me sad.
Monster Racers is being good... for now. Once I get to the part where I had to grind a lot it'll be hell, but for now it's a dream. The fact that it's the only one that isn't giving me problems kinda sucks though. Like, one day out of seven the blog doesn't feel like a burden! Hooray?
I really can't keep leaving the games I'm posting for so long between updates, it means I spend half of the time I'm updating trying to figure out what has happened already and then not making any progress. But it's also very difficult to actually get into the headspace for it at the moment, as well. So I'm thinking two possible solutions, both of which I can use at once. One, I remove the obligation to post every day and the schedule from the header - I'm not posting daily anyway and the header looks terrible. Two, I shelve one of the two Digimon games, probably DW2, and come back to it later. When I finish the game that was meant to replace whichever of these two games finished first, I start posting that, and come back to the shelved game later. Part of me is wondering if I've just started to get sick of Digimon all the time! Maybe it'd be nice to have a detox of it for a while.
I did even wonder about doing a different show for a bit, even maybe one or two episodes of something not on the list. Contenders include the original 1965 series Get Smart, and that one episode of The Simpsons that I harvested screenshots from for that one post about Tim that I have on hand anyway. Get Smart would be kinda fun for a bit maybe, it's very repetitive so it'd get old after a while but it might be fun and it's very ripe for mockery, as well as being a huge shift away from Digimon. Plus I could turn on the subtitles and harvest those too, so I wouldn't have to caption it manually!
I mean.... I should probably talk about the elephant in the room, which is that the anime posts are the ones that people generally like more. I get a few new followers after the weekend posts, and maybe one or two occasionally during the week. If I were desperate for followers, I'd switch to mainly anime posts and have the games be a side thing... but the games are the fun part for me, so I'm not gonna do that. Sorry to anyone who followed for the anime posts! (ALSO I recently passed 300 followers so yay! Thanks! Sorry there's been no fucking content!)
Oh, as long as I'm talking schedules and future games, I should mention another game on the list. I've already told at least one person this anyway, so might as well. Wayyyy down on the list is Undertale. Of course I would. But not for a long-ass time, so hey. There's another (indie) game that I have on the list that is supposed to get a major update later this year, so I've recorded a whole bunch of what it looks like now so that I can do some comparisons when I get to that one, but that thing is even further down the list than Undertale is, so uh. Don't wait up for that one for a while.
Alright, so that was good to get off my chest. Don't get me wrong, I still love doing this and I love you all and I'm not planning on quitting this dumbass hobby of mine any time soon. You all must suffer with me. But it's a lot of effort at the best of times and it's nice to vent sometimes, especially if I think I'm gonna change some things. Thanks guys! :D
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snarkybluechristian · 4 years
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Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 21
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Vaggie waited until the couple had walked away before she rushed into the bathroom to check on Angel.
“Angel?” Vaggie asked fearfully.  “Angel, are you alright?”
Vaggie heard Angel get up from his bed, use his crutches to hobble himself into the bathroom, and sit down against the wall.
“I’m better now,” Angel said between ragged breaths from the other side of the wall.  “I can sit on my ass again, so at least, that’s something.”
Vaggie sighed sadly and said, “Angel, I’m so sorry…”
“It’s fine, baby girl,” Angel interrupted reassuringly.  “It’s not your fault.  Besides, I’m used to the pain.  You know that.”
Vaggie smiled sadly.  She knew Angel was staying strong for her.  He had much more inner strength than she ever realized…
“Angel?” Vaggie asked nervously.  “What did Rosie do to make you scream?”
“If you must know, that slut grinded herself against my crotch,” Angel said audibly shuddering.  “It made me feel agonizing pain.”
“That bitch,” Vaggie snarled angrily.  “I hate her so much.  She spent the better part of the day literally lecturing me about etiquette and how I needed to follow all these 100-year-old rules to be Alastor’s perfect trophy wife.”
“Oh, God,” Angel replied.  “That sounds awful.  How did you take it?”
Vaggie scoffed and said, “Not very well.  I know.  Big surprise, right?  I’ve been pushing Rosie’s patience all day.  She and Alastor punished you in the most painful way imaginable just because I said something about Alastor she didn’t like when we went shopping for dresses.  I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.  She insulted Charlie.”
“I don’t blame ya,” Angel replied.
“Before that, Rosie made sit through a boring lunch and the same boring lecture twice in a row…” Vaggie ranted.
“Wait, twice in a row?” Angel asked confusedly.
“I drew an offensive doodle of Rosie instead of listening to her lecture the first time through,” Vaggie admitted.  “That’s probably why they made sure to make sure to make your punishment more painful…”
To Vaggie’s surprise, Angel started laughing.  He laughed for a good minute eventually pushing Vaggie to begin giggling herself.
“Oh, my God!” Angel said finally taking a breath.  “That’s hilarious, doll.  I can just imagine that look on that bitch’s face.  Tell me.  Was she pissed?”
“Absolutely livid,” Vaggie said.
“Oh, man,” Angel said.  “I wish I could see it for myself.”
Vaggie’s eye then noticed the old-fashioned vent on the ground.  She got on her knees to look at it, and as she examined it, she got an idea.
Vaggie picked up the vent grating, set it aside, and looked into the shaft. It looked like it also connected to Angel's room, so out of curiosity, she reached her arm down and to the right as far as she could.
“Vaggie, what are you doing?” Angel asked.  
“Angel, look into the shaft of your vent,” Vaggie said.  “Do you see my hand?”
Angel looked down into the vent shaft and saw Vaggie’s waving hand.
“Yeah, I see it,” Angel replied.  “What are you doing?”
Vaggie smiled and said, “Wait a second.”
She stood up, ran back to her room, grabbed the notebook off the dresser, and headed back into the bathroom.
Vaggie then tore her drawing of Rosie out of her notebook, wadded it into a ball, and stuck it into the vent making sure to roll the wadded-up ball as close to Angel as possible.
“Angel, I sent you something,” Vaggie said.  “Check it out.”
Angel opened the vent on his side, leaned over with his one good arm, picked up the crumpled paper ball, unfolded it, and started laughing hysterically.
Vaggie chuckled with him and asked, “You like it?”
“Vags,” Angel said.  “This is absolute gold!”
“Well, I had to do something to stay awake,” Vaggie said laying back against the wall.  “That lecture was so goddamn boring!  You should have heard the nonsense she was spouting then and while she made me try on all those old clothes at the store.”
“Did you take any real notes, babe?” Angel asked.
“Yeah, do you wanna hear Rosie’s bullshit etiquette advice?” Vaggie asked with a smile in her voice.  
“Fuck yeah,” Angel said.  “It ain’t like we have anything better to do.”
Vaggie picked up her notebook, turned the page to her notes, and read out loud in as posh a tone as she could muster, “Shoulders back, feet flat on the ground, back straight…”
“It sounds like she said that a lot,” Angel interrupted.
“You have no idea,” Vaggie said making her aggravation clear through her voice.
“Oh, do tell me more,” Angel teased.
“Maintain your beauty and your personal appearance to your husband’s taste,” Vaggie read.  “As a wife, you owe it to your husband to remain pleasing to him to retain his respect and his love.”
“Jesus Christ,” Angel muttered with a chuckle.  “Are you his wife or his employee?”
“That’s what I said,” Vaggie retorted.
“Keep going,” Angel goaded.  
“A lady doesn’t eat like an animal,” Vaggie continued reading.  “She uses her cutlery and her manners.”
“Fair point,” Angel replied.  “Fair point, but you don't eat like an animal anyway.  Why the hell does she need to teach you that?”
“I don’t know,” Vaggie said in frustration.  “She yelled at me for not properly introducing myself as Alastor's fiancée.  “God!  You should have heard her lecture me on modesty!”
Angel scoffed and said, “You?  Modest?  Was she serious?”
“She was dead fucking serious,” Vaggie replied with a groan before she read from her notebook again.  “‘Ladies do not use profanity.  It is unbecoming.  Do not raise your voice unless you're spoken to and given permission by your husband.  Do not make your feelings known.  It is a mark of good breeding to suppress undue emotion, whether of disappointment, of mortification, or laughter, of anger, or of selfishness in any form.  Do not make any vulgar comments. Don't laugh too loud...’  Oh, my God!”
“That shoulda killed ya,” Angel said.  
“It almost did,” Vaggie replied.  “I had to stay calm or Alastor would have made me watch his familiars hurt you again.  No, the shopping is what killed me.  She only let me pick out these old ass dresses from the ‘30s…No offense.”
Angel cackled and said, “None taken.”
“I wanted another dress, but she ripped it away from me because of Alastor’s dress code,” Vaggie continued sadly.  “God, I couldn’t believe it.  It’s something that seems so petty, but it was so humiliating.  It was like I wasn’t even a person.  It’s hard to explain...”
“It’s like you only existed to be someone else’s object?  Like you didn’t have a will of your own?  Like your only purpose was to please an asshole you don’t even care about?” Angel replied with unexpected sorrow behind his voice.
Vaggie fell silent.
“Believe me, babe,” Angel continued.  “I know exactly how you feel.  That was my whole fucking life.”
“It was?”
“Yeah, my father was the same.  He had a rule for everything.  I was a son of the don.  I had no choice.  I lied about being the firstborn son earlier, but I still had a role I had to play and hated every minute of it.  I had to be fucking perfect for his goddamn mob, and he hated me when he realized I wasn’t his perfect son like Arackniss was.  That I was a fag.  He tried to change me.  My mother kept him back until she died.  God rest her soul.  But then, he went into overdrive.  He poured all his hatred into my big turd of a brother and made him hate me, too.  The two of them did all they could to control my life.  The only one I could talk to was Molly, but she was losing her mind.  I was too until that night I overdosed.  I tried to do all he asked, but not a fucking thing I did was ever good enough for him.”
“Oh, my God.  Angel, I had no idea.”
“I don’t exactly like to talk about it.  Why do you think I’m strung up most of the time?  It’s funny.  I’ve stayed away from both their asses for the past 73 years only for me to become the property of another no-good motherfucker…”
“Valentino?”
Angel paused with a sad smile and said, “You really do know everything.”
“You are the most popular porn star in all of Hell,” Vaggie said.
“More like the most popular prostitute and slave to the most powerful pimp,” Angel said with a scoff.  “God, you think I would have figured it out after the first time.  I’ve fucked up enough for both lifetimes.  I’ll be much happier when I’m in heaven with my ma, finally on good terms with God, and have a dimension separating me and all those other fuckers.”
Vaggie remained quiet for a moment before flipping to a blank page, writing on the blank page, tearing it out, folding it up, and slipping the slip of paper to Angel through the vent.
Angel reached into the vent, picked up the piece of paper, and read: “Charlie and your mother would be so proud of you.”
Angel smiled and felt an unexpected tear come to his eye as he said, “I love you too, Vaggie.”
Just then, Vaggie heard a door open and the sound of a cart being pushed in.
“Angel?!” Vaggie asked nervously.
“There’s nothing on my end, babe,” Angel said.  “It’s on yours.  Just stay right here next to me.”
Vaggie sat next to the wall nervously.  But just as soon as the cart rolled in, the noise stopped, and the door shut and locked again.  
“It’s gone,” Vaggie said.  “But I need to investigate.”
“Vaggie, I’d rather you didn’t,” Angel pleaded.  
Vaggie stood up and said, “I have to get out of this bathroom eventually.  Besides, I think I know what it is.”
Before Angel could protest, Vaggie exited the bathroom and saw the cart before her.  It was just a simple dinner cart with a large bottle of water and a plate of food covered by a silver lid.  She lifted the tray and saw a dinner plate of Southern comfort food.  Fried chicken, fried okra, green beans, and macaroni and cheese.
“What?!” Angel exclaimed in surprise.
“What is it?” Vaggie asked anxiously as she picked up her tray and carried it to the bathroom.
“Another smoothie like the one Alastor drugged me with earlier just appeared out of nowhere,” Angel said.  “Must be my dinner.”
“Dinner?” Vaggie said angrily.  “Alastor gave me a tray of food.  Why isn’t he giving you anything to eat?”
Angel scoffed and said, “Isn’t it obvious, doll?  Alastor has me on a liquid diet.  He’s trying to starve me to make me weaker and more compliant.  I know it.  Valentino has used this method of torture on me before.”
Vaggie furrowed her brow and said, “Wait a second.”
Angel complied setting his smoothie down on top of the toilet lid as he settled back in his spot.  
Angel then heard the sound of another paper ball being rolled in his direction through the vent.  He looked down into the vent, picked up the ball, and unwrapped the paper to find a fried chicken drumstick.  
Without a second’s hesitation, Angel scarfed down the chicken until the bone was picked clean.
“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel said.
“There’s more where that came from,” Vaggie said crumpling up more paper balls of food for Angel.  “But you need to give me back the bone first.”
“Why?” Angel asked confusedly.
“So that Alastor doesn’t suspect anything because of a missing bone,” Vaggie replied.
Angel smiled, rolled the bone back into the paper, rolled it back to Vaggie in the vent, and said, “You’re quite the clever bitch.  I underestimated ya.”
“Well, you don’t survive being a prostitute in the slums of El Salvador by being stupid,” Vaggie said picking up the paper ball with the bone and rolling some okra in a paper ball back to Angel.
“So, you really were a whore, huh?” Angel said picking up the paper ball and unwrapping it to find okra inside.  “I’m sorry.  I just can’t imagine you letting any douchebag do you for money.”
“I was a very different person six years ago.  I’m not exactly proud of it,” Vaggie said preparing more paper balls for Angel.  “Make sure you leave no trash.  I don’t wanna imagine what Alastor and Rosie would do should they find out about any of this.”
“Gotcha,” Angel said.  “Just like dumping a stash of drugs in the old days.”
Angel scarfed down his food, threw the paper in the toilet, used toilet paper to sweep up any crumbs that were left, threw that away, and flushed the toilet.
“Good work,” Vaggie said as she finished rolling the last paper ball of food.  “I’m almost done rolling all the paper balls.  Get ready.”  
“Thanks,” Angel said.  “And for the record, I was a very different person too about 73 years ago.”
After doing some quick math, Vaggie replied, “1947?”
“Yep,” Angel replied.  “2014?”
“Yes,” Vaggie said opening the vent to roll all the paper balls to Angel.  “Get ready, Angel.  I’m sending the food over now.”
“You’re a saint, Vaggie,” Angel said.  “I don’t know how to thank ya.”
“Keep recovering until we can escape,” Vaggie replied rolling the paper balls through the vent.  “That’ll be thanks enough.  That, and maybe, start taking your redemption work at the hotel more seriously.”
Angel scoffed as he picked up all his paper balls and said, “I tracked you down here, got captured trying to save you, and still insisted on not leaving without you even though I was given the chance to escape.  Doesn’t that count for anything?”
Vaggie paused for a moment as she settled in on her side to eat her half of the food before she replied, “You know what?  I think you’re right.  You just might be closer to repentance than I thought.”
“Awww, what a sincere compliment,” Angel retorted facetiously.  “I’m flattered.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Vaggie replied sarcastically prompting Angel to chuckle to himself before they both returned to eating her food.
The pair ate in silence until all the food was devoured and Angel had properly cleaned up his side and re-covered his vent.
When they were done, Angel asked, “Did you get enough to eat, babe?”
“Yeah,” Vaggie replied placing the last of the bones on her plate and covering the vent.  “Don’t worry about it.”
Vaggie stood up, exited the bathroom, and replaced the platter on the cart.  As soon as she did, the cart magically sped away.  The door opened by itself to let it out, then locked itself again once the cart was gone.
Vaggie sighed as she sat on the bed to figure out what to do next.  That was when she noticed the book The Taming of the Shrew sitting on the vanity.  Not having anything better to do, Vaggie picked up the book and carried it to the bathroom.
“Guess what I found on my vanity?” Vaggie asked.
“The Taming of the Shrew?” Angel asked.
“Yep,” Vaggie replied unenthusiastically.  “I must have held on to it when Rosie was dragging me up here.”
“That, or Alastor is being about as subtle as a bat to the face,” Angel replied with a scoff.
Vaggie snorted and replied, “No kidding.  Do you want me to read it to you this time?”
“Sure, I don’t mind hearing it,” Angel replied standing up.  “I can translate the bits you don’t understand.  Just wait a moment for me to grab my pillow and blankets.  Sitting on this floor is murder.”
“Alright,” Vaggie replied standing up and heading into her room to do the same thing.  
Vaggie grabbed her blankets and pillows and set up a bed on the floor right next to the vent.  
When she turned away to brush her teeth, Angel asked, “What are you doing, babe?”
“I made a bed, so I could sleep closer to you,” Vaggie said picking up her toothbrush and turning on and off the sink to make it wet before she put on the toothpaste.
“Awww, you do have a soft side,” Angel gushed.
“Shut up,” Vaggie said turning away to brush her teeth amidst Angel’s chuckles.  
When Vaggie was done, she shut off the light and settled into her bed.  Angel did the same in his while Vaggie began reading the play from the last place they had left off.
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ralfstrashcan · 5 years
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3x13 Reaction / Commentary
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Yeah I'm aware, stop judging X___X
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I feel the need to point this out. Apparently it's common practice for the Praetor to just, kill off their more troublesome charges. Interesting. But Jordan has a different work ethic which is a) apparently not usual for praetors and b) something at least Nick attributes to his past and not, idk, common decency. Just how savage is the Praetor exactly?? (Also let me add this to the list of things why 3x15 makes no sense at all.)
Okay, so they found another mundane dead by Heidi's hand...... why exactly don't they call the Shadowhunters? Aren't they obliged to? I mean?
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True, but it sure as hell is her responsibility how she handles them. But we established already that she has a serious perception problem and always sees herself as the victim.
I mean, prime example, if she could have made that smooth exit through the vent where the werewolves couldn't follow, why didn't she just do that from the start instead of attacking Nick? Because she wants to cause trouble and not just “live her life in peace” as she's pretending to.
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More like, he didn't have the guts to face Alec like that. Also does that mean he draped Izzy on the couch like that in that cliché sleeping pose with one hand under the head? At least he took off her boots like a sane person.
“I'm just drained.”
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Haha it seems Alec isn't the only Lightwood sibling with a shitty sense of humor.
“I don't have the same preexisting condition.” “You mean my addiction?”
No, Izzy, he obviously means your fashion sense, keep up. Seriously, who wrote that stupid ass line of dialogue.
I found it pretty hilarious that Simon, Clary's literally oldest and bestest friend since kindergarten, feels the need to apologize to Izzy for taking up so much time with his Clary-reunion and blocking the path for her. The Clizzy Energy is Strong.
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“Hmmmm hot hot hot Clary, please show me more.”
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MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY HAHAHAHA PERFECT
Also, Morningstar.... didn't Val name his dumbass tanker ship in S1/S2 Morningstar? Guy really has it with name repetitions, first Jonathan 1 and 2, now Morningstar Ship and Morningstar Sword... I bet he named all his stuffed teddys Mr Snuffels 1, Mr Snuffels 2, Mr Snuffels 3.....
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The way he delivers this line me might've as well said “Please cut out the emotional disgusting bullshit my skin is crawling already from this I can't take any more mushiness PLEASE GO AWAY.” Gotta love Alec.
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MAGNUS RAGE PUNCHING THE KEYBOARD IS THE MOST RELATABLE THING I HAVE EVER SEEN
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Magnus opening up about missing his magic MY HEART OH MY GOD
(Sidenote though: No wonder he got frustrated with the pretentious Shadowhunter Technology, I mean, look at it. There are only runes. Runes may be called runes, but they don't actually make up an alphabet. Why the heck is there a flexibility rune on the screen? It makes no sense.)
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This whole scene (and Izzy's lipstick lol) is absolutely perfect. I love everything about it, especially Magnus and especially Izzy. I'd be really surprised if Magnus didn't find a way to get her that weird root thingy anyway, because he surely doesn't buy the “feeling a lot better now” line.
(Edit: Now thinking about it I realized two things, a) she probably didn't take him up on his offer to go to another warlock because she felt like that was unnecessarily rubbing in that he can't do it himself anymore* and b) with that line she probably meant she feels lighter already for sharing what happened and just <3<3<3<3<3)
*The only think that would have made this scene more perfect is if Izzy hadn't skimmed over his magic comment without acknowledging it in any way. Though with this thought in mind, that she rejected his offer to spare his feelings, I find myself placated.
Also I love how Magnus pretends he's going to look for pen and paper when really he's running straight to Alec to tell him all about this (and to prevent a repetition of 2x09 form happening.... and now I made myself sad again).
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#effortless (Also reminds me of that post about fire message mechanics that I still owe a certain someone. Where is the time.)
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HAHAHAHA
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???????????? How do they know that? More importantly, does Alec know? Will he hear through the Shadow World grapevine??? So many questions.
I mean, I have sympathy for her. But like, she's too smart for me to buy that she genuinely can't see any other course of action. She just does this because it's the least effort for her, not because she's truly clueless what alternatives are there for here (aka not running around, killing mundanes, starting a fight with everyone). She just thrives on chaos.
Also “Wolves don't just attack without cause. Not in New York” ? Seems like all Institute except the NY one do a shit job since supposedly keeping peace between the Downworld factions is part of their responsibility. Yes, I am still salty about 3x15. (Also, if anyone's confused by this weird foreshadowing, I wrote notes for this reaction post while watching 3x13 when it first aired, but only got to finish it now after 3x19 aired and I can't keep my chronology-screwing bitterness to myself while finishing up the post. But mostly these are my thoughts from then.)
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Yeah something tells me she's not gonna be totally uninvolved in that.
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This and the fact that Russel wants to stop Bat from even leaving the Jade Wolf are the final proofs that all the werewolves actually live at the Jade Wolf and pile up in a giant snuggle pile in the kitchen at night. This is further cemented by the fact that Luke and Maia claim to have flats of their own but we never actually see them. Clearly they're both dirty liars that just wanted to mislead.
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*late Jocelyn's late friend Eliot #rude #whatever
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.......why the hell would Elias code that shit in Circle short hand? So other Circle members, who Jocelyn was hiding from, could easily open that super important safe? So smart! Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Luke in the Circle as well? Shouldn't he be able to read that, too?
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1) Eliot is such a loser and a showoff for ostentatiously writing that J in Jocelyn 2) His hint is seriously “Don't open with brute force.” Wtf kind of hint is that man are you even real.
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I'm sorry, okay, but everytime I see / hear Bellicosi I think Maxi-Cosi XD
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*glares at 3x15* Will I ever tire of raging about that episode? Unlikely.
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Why.....? Since he didn't have any problem 100% blaming Raphael for everything Heidi did (not unjustified, but I'm just saying he's suddenly changed his mind). I mean, if he'd said she's dangerous to him and his family that would've been another matter.
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These are all runes that I don't remember seeing on the Shadowhunters' Wiki Rune Page. Please tell me more.
Jace: “Clary, you've been going nonstop since you came back. You need to take a minute.”
lol if only Jace would implement the same advice himself.
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“Wow I suddeny remember I had a life before I was 10.”
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German Dubbing: Yeah, the ones Consul Penhallow categorically ignored. Honestly. Who dubbs this shit. Wtf.
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Listen I love everything about this scene. (Fun Fact: In the German Dubbing she says vampire addiction, not venom addiction lol as if she was addicted to vampires XD)
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Alec Lightwood, best brother of the year. Btw he's been holding that title since birth. I also don't think Alec would ever judge Izzy for her addiction / look at her as if she's weak, so the fact that she thinks that says a lot about how the addiction affected her self-image.
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Too bad Alec forgets this for the next few episodes and acts like a total tool in that Clave Investigation Thing, smh.
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Good to know.
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Haha that was witty.
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Oooooh why don't they ask another warlock then? For example one who's actually always the smartest person in the room?? Who's also willing to work on this??? Just a thought tho, don't let me interrupt the Maruke Bonding. No, you know what? I hate the shipname Maruke, it's shit, so I'm calling it Luryse as it should have been called. Then again, when am I even gonna talk about that pairing? We shall see.
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“Outrageous, just because people around me keep turning up dead! It's ridiculous, really, that they'd think I could have something to do with that. It's as if they're not aware this is a TV show and supporting characters die because *Moriarty Voice* THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!”
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“That what the kids call it these days when they get kicked out on their ass?” She literally says “From one exiled to another” so she clearly realized he's full of shit.
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“And that's why in two episodes Imma get myself arrested by behaving like a dumbass and then chill in prison as if it's my greatest accomplishment.” Honestly Luke, so many No-s. I can't even.
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“Wow I can't believe I have to see this Luryse bs up close.” Hah, now I used the right shipname and can move the f on from bashing that pairing. Sorry about that. I'm sleep deprived. That always makes me extra salty.
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“When you're alpha you need to make the pack your first priority. Your personal life needs to take a back seat. And mine never did.” I applaud Luke for admitting he was a shit alpha because he didn't proritize the pack. Hindsight is 20/20.
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Wow Luke so helpful <3<3<3 Just like I know and love you.
I also love how nobody questions that Heidi bit that mundane and then chilledly made a phone call at the scene of her Accords-violating crime. How frakking convenient.
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But their runes aren't on the same side. Sloppy work. Also, if the illustrator obviouly takes artistic liberties, then the rune missing on the second pic doesn't have to mean anything. Maybe they just forgot to draw it. Then again this isn't even the most flimsy conclusion-making I've wittnessed on this show so I'll let it slide.
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lol Jace and Jonathan are basically playing tug of war with Clary: Jonathan burning himself, Jace activating her healing rune XD
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Ooooh brainless S1 Clary, how I have not missed you. Srsly now? Carve it out? That didn't work for Simon so why should it now? lol she should ask the seelie queen if she has some handy floor mosaic thingy in her courtyard to help with that.
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In his defense, he moved.
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It's not gonna work is what it is. Srsly how dumb are they? Why the hell does she think something so powerful can just be carved out?? Wtf.
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Woooow they're using a rune removing device, color me impressed. I really thought they'd just put a scalpel to it. So, at least points for trying.
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Uuuuh get some morphin, try again. I mean. But anyway.
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*break up
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......didn't she just break up with him because pack reasons? Where is that not a Shadow World Reason? Please explain. (Also choosing an unflattering screen cap of Simon because he annoys me? Absolutely. I am petty like that.) The easy way Simon accepts their break up really makes me wonder. If Maia hadn't said anything, would he have broken up with her? Since apparently things “changed” and they could “both” “feel” it. Honestly. He literally calls her his girlfriend at the start of the scene as if to draw attention to how ridiculous this is.
You know what, I don't even have the energy to rage about this. Their relationship was so great, they were so supportive of each other, they had great chemistry, great communication, they always stood by each other. And just because Sizzy has to be endgame there were suddenly weird-ass tension between them for no real reason – none that 3A Saia wouldn't have worked through like pros anyway – just so this break up wouldn't come out of absolutely nowhere. It's shit treatment of both their characters and their relationship and I'm just so exasperated with it all. (Also not the way to endear me to Sizzy. But at this point I feel like a broken record.)
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Discount? It was free. Which I'm still finding super hard to believe by the way, that a werewolf establishment would just give out free food to vampires who don't even work there. But what do I know, right, I mean it's not like they just mentioned a few minutes ago how werewolves and vampires hate each other? Right?? Hahaha.
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Wow. This actually takes the time to highlight that this break up wasn't as amicable as Simon thought. Maybe he thought that they were breaking up for human reasons, but Maia clearly feels she threw her relationship away for the pack and it's hard for her. And Simon's tirade wasn't really encouraging her to let him know that. I really appreciate that detail.
Other things I want to say: 1) I didn't like that Maia just flat out broke up with him. She should have informed him that she was going to step up for the pack and would have to prioritize that over their relationship and then leave it up to him if he wants to put up with that or not. By breaking up she made the choice for him. Her course of action is ic, I'm not critizising that, but from like, a personal stand point I don't like it. 2) Foreshadowing: Since her whole pack gets slaughtered, if that would have been the only reason to break up with Simon she coulda just gotten back together with him lol. Haha sorry I'm trash. I know.
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Wow he's really dumb. He knows Heidi's brand of crazy and still he doesn't realize this was a trap. He said himself that Heidi must have done something for the Preator to be after her, and when the Praetor tells him she's been leaving copses left and right he...... takes this as his cue to ally himself with Heidi??? Wtf?????? Does he not believe what Jordan said? Again, he suspected something like that himself and since the Praetor are playing at being the Downworlder Police they wouldn't just make something like that up with no proof. The heck. I don't get you, Boss Vampire Guy.
Also, thumbs down for the Praetor, if they'd just told them their source was Heidi herself (on the phone) this could have been prevented. But, ugh. With how things are I can at least kinda buy that no working communication between vampire clan and Praetor exists.
Still, if the Praetor wants to be accepted as some kind of Shadow World Institution they should really work on their manners.
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.................................................
I I don-- I can't. *sigh* I can't believe I just had to watch this with my own two eyes. Have they not been trained for a case like this? A fellow shadowhunter injured in the field? That activating the healing rune should be the first thing you do? Before lovingly prying information from the dying person?? I mean, if that's not Plot Convenience then I don't know what is. Sure, he needs to give them a snippet of info, but not too much. But please, please, couldn't writers have found a way for this that didn't make them look like the stupidest of idiots in the entire frikkin world?! Wtf. WTF. I can't believe it.
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Uuuuuuh how did she know how to turn those things if all she had to work with was Don't use brute force?? Do I have to understand that?
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“You brought coffee, after all.”
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Look she's so ashamed she even turned away from the screen haha. Also it's so refreshing to see grown ass people approach a relationship like idiotic teens. (Yeah, that was sarcastic.)
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“And right now I wanna do you.” Hahahaha sorry, too good to pass up, you can bet your ass imma turn this into a dumb comic XD
“I love you, Clary. And I'll love you until I die. And if there's a life after this I'll love you then, too.”
Okay, I wanted to roll my eyes at their love confession, but what Jace said was actually really sweet <3
Alec: All our people were accounted for at the time of the murder. Izzy: We think it was a Clave hit.
Oh couldn't have been one of the millions of Shadowhunters from another Institute? No, I'm sure Alec checked that on their neat little Shadowhunter Intranet, that all other Shadowhunters all over the workd were accounted for as well. Honestly.
Also, Maryse says “By the angel,” but in the German Dubbing she says “What the angel” which makes it seem as if Shadowhunters curse by replacing dirty words with “angel” and just... what the angel XD
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Why the hell are they all so obsessed with Latin? Ugh. Exhausting hobby.
Btw lol, please rewatch that scene, the background music is weirdly reminiscent of the Stranger Things Theme hahahaha. (Also omg I'm peeking into the German dubbing and it doesn't even make SENSE hahaha what the shit.)
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LOL that's like the soulmate trope but in painful XD basically the creepy incest edition XD But honestly can we appreciate what a nice hand Jonathan has with a knife and with his left hand?? Prodigy.
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This is it, the final proof that they actually all live at the Jade Wolf hahahha.
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...................................? Why the f is she happy to see Jordan? Last time they saw each other she clearly stated she hated him?? Do I need to understand?? Oh right. In the books Maia and Jordan get back together. Right. Stupid, why am I even surprised by this??
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Wtf isn't he the clan leader? Why the hell is he acting so submissively to Heidi all of a sudden? Literally half a day ago he threw her out of his clan, knowing his place. And now he's like a puppet on her strings. Wtf. But I guess that happens when you treat characters as plot devices. They get inconsistent even if they only have two scenes. *sigh*
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Awwww would you look at that, werewolves and vampires fighting with fists like mundanes. (Okay some of them had like, daggers, but where are the fangs and the claws? Honestly.)
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Okay I did her injustice in my trailer reaction since this is a vamp and a legitimate fight situation.
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Wow that actually surprised me. But Jordan also dies in the books so, oops. Just didn't think they'd skip the getting together.
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WOW that really surprised me. I thought Maia would challenge him and they'd have an epic fight to the death or something. (Also wtf Griffin guy, what's with that creeper face.)
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To be honest I find it hard to believe that Maia acts like this. Scared out of her mind, yeah sure. But she acts helpless, and she's never been that. When she got that pipe thing I thought she'd use it as a stake. Using it to block the door is smart, too, but why didn't she get another to have a stake? Her whole posture, uselessly hangig over Jordan screams damsel in distress and I don't like it at all.
Edit: I had certain fears how this plotline would be developed in 3x14 which thankfully didn't come true, but my conflicted opinion on this ending scene remains.
Anyway let’s take a moment and appreciate Maia’s Killer Boots.
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BTW watched the 3x14 trailer and just.... what. Why the f would Magnus ask Lorenzo of all people for help? He can't be trusted. As if he wouldn't use that opportunity to break Magnus even further! WTF! Where's Catarina? Oh, let me guess, another Drunk Doctor Conference *epic eyeroll*
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Raven and a buddy of ours named Slater (which is his honest to god legal first name) and I were all hanging out last night until way too late in the morning, and for funsies we looked up a list of questions to ask to learn more about your friends and started sharing
Slater and I kept going after Raven went to bed (he’s got a cold, again) and he at one point ended up calling me “maternal” and even insisted that this is true despite the fact that I admitted that I’m not nearly as soft and cute as my dramatic ass instinctively exaggerates myself to be around other people
like it was a label i’d thought about but never...actually actively applied to myself because boy howdy is it hard to get people to acknowledge you’re nonbinary if you’re momming all over the place
idk it also just feels like a bit of a mislabel ‘cause like yeah, I tend to do things like buy people snacks or give them rides and generally fuss over them, but I don’t do it because I care about people (unless you’re one of like, four people lmao those people are mine and I will murder a bitch on their behalf), I do it because it endears me to people and makes them feel more benevolently towards me??? it’s in the same vein as the weird defense mechanism I have where I smile when I’m nervous or upset, and to do that mom shit with genuine intentions would require that I first be a good person and lmao i am..really not
like unfortunately I came to the realization the other day that the whole reason I always “fight for the underdog,” as my mom likes to put it when she deigns to offer me a compliment, is because I see myself as an underdog and want to do for others what I want done for me, not because I actually care???? even though I do a little just because it’ll help me get my way??????? idk justice is a concept with no real application in the world and it pisses me off whatever
Slater and I also came to the realization (and by that I mean I realized a thing about myself, he said a thing as a third party observer and I had a eureka moment because of those two things combined) that the two reasons Raven and I fight so much are because 1) if I have an argument, I want to have an honest to god argument like a normal fucking person where I’m not being ignored so the other person can yell at me about how awful I am and turn it around to be them venting to me about how much their life sucks and how so much of that is caused by me (cough mom cough), like I want a real-ass argument where we yell at each other and are able to say “yeah okay I hear you but” at least twice and either we eventually come to some kind of mutual understanding or the argument kinda naturally dissipates so we can address the subject later with less dramatic emotional weight behind it, and Raven LOVES, like absolutely ADORES shutting down arguments because he has a bit of a temper (a bit lmao i’m hilarious) and doesn’t want to risk punching me in the face, which comes with its own swirl of emotions for me but whatever, and that dissonance tends to just makes me angrier, which makes me keep digging into the argument, which pisses him off even more, and he usually eventually condescends to me until I shut up because he knows it’s an effective method for making me fume quietly and nothing is ever resolved and I’m full of resentments towards him because of it, and 2) when we argue or have a discussion about things we disagree upon, I usually approach the subject wanting to understand why he feels the way he does about the subject and to explain to him why I feel the way I do about it and why I think I’m right so that we’re both on even footing before we continue and so that we can eventually come to some kind of mutual understanding and to overall have an actual conversation, but he always approaches shit as a debate and wants to be able to monologue for ten minutes uninterrupted just to be able to interrupt the other person when their turn comes (god forbid if you try to counter one of the six points he wants to make all at once before he’s done tho lmao) and approaches disagreements with the intention of proving to the other person why he’s right and why they’re stupid for thinking the way they do (which is actually the pot calling the kettle black a little because I always try to assert my views as correct until proven wrong so) and it always leads to the constipated arguments I described above and it’s exhausting and I hate it and it’s the ONLY WAY he thinks he can have a meaningful conversation with another human being and that may or may not be one of the things I resent him for
anyway we discovered a lot of other things about each other too, like the fact that Slater loves guns and military shit in general because when he was five he had a lot of nightmares so his parents gave him a squirt bottle full of soapy water and told him to shoot the nightmares with it and it worked (which is frankly the cutest shit I’ve heard all day, don’t know about y’all) and that he desperately wants a “harem” (which turned out to mean just a poly relationship with several girls who are encouraged to have their own poly lifestyles, especially with but not limited to each other) because he just wants that deep amorous love from a few people to prove that he’s deserving of it and to be able to give it generously and with wild abandon so as to indulge his softer side (again, cutest shit I heard in a while despite being a little sad), and the fact that Raven loves the Disney movie Mulan because it taught him that anyone can be anything and that’s magical and that he absolutely admires the fuck out of Bruce Lee because the man was an almost unstoppable force with a soft heart and idk I've always been a little lukewarm towards Slater for Reasons™ (namely the fact that he makes that one attack helicopter joke and refused to call me “they” so much that in a fit of frustration and exasperation I gave up and told him to just call me whatever pronoun he wants, and the fact that he and Raven constantly make fun of Those Silly SJWs) but y’know he’s mostly just an asshole because he’s afraid of people and I can relate to that even if he’s annoying and edgy about it and I think it’s safe to say that I will probably be hugging him more in the future
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beccawastaken · 7 years
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My life summarized Pt. 1...
I started this blog cause there is always so much in my head, it moves at the speed of light, some of it makes complete and utter sense, some of it sounds great til the very second it rolls off my tongue and then sounds nothing like it did in my head, some of it is just random nonsensical stuff that seems to have fallen off a stand up comedians cue cards and straight into the part of my psyche that prefers her own lyrics. It makes it very hard to focus on one task to completion, I even tend to put down my guitar and journal for months on end...so sad!
I must admit that I have worked my ass off to try to make some kind of sense of it all and now when I am unable to rather than let frustration take over I tend to find my random head ramblings amusing. I mean it is often a frustrated, shaking my head at myself kind of amusing but still...baby steps right? 
Sometimes the thoughts can be so intense and so rapid that its overwhelming and it takes every ounce of my strength not to scream til it stops. At its worst its almost like there are so many thoughts moving so quickly that it can sound like a constant high pitch buzz in my head. Super exhausting, and difficult to explain to those around you. People tell me to just go to sleep...ever tried sleeping with a shop vac on or inside a construction site? That would be comparable to this, plus, sleeping also isn't my forte so I’m double fucked so to speak.
The human mind and psyche intrigues me to no end. The way it works, and how the basic brain functions are the same across society yet our perception and the cogs and wheels inside each skull are as unique as our deoxyribonucleic acid. For each and every one of us, the way we tick can be vastly different from one another, from the person beside you on the bus, to that guy you’ve worked with for years to a lover or spouse and often really have no way of knowing. I mean how often do we turn to each other and say “can we talk about how your brain works?” We just take for granted that it does and don’t give it a second thought.(haha you will come to notice my love for puns)
Its the intricate differences between us that keep me interested in this self sabotaging species, I mean really, Earth doesn’t need humans to survive, in fact it may be better off without us! Who knows, what I do know is that while im here on this seemingly massive planet im going to make the most of it. 
I have a wicked sense of humour (ask anyone haha) and I enjoy messing with people (in a jovial way of course). Im talking like practical joke type of messing with people, light, innocent funny shit. I have been referred to as a brain ninja...I took it as a compliment, however, when you are on the receiving end its possible that it isnt nearly as enjoyable. I do my best not to be mean (I said I do my best, I am not perfect) cause you know, I’m no psycho, although some will attest to that statement not being true, I have honed my inner psycho and now only use her when absolutely necessary. Like if some douchelord crosses one of my angels or my grandson. Then my wrath should be feared, simple enough right? (WOW that escalated quickly! O_O)
I just do not want to waste my life, I spent so much of it not knowing how to handle daily life, assuming (naturally cause why wouldn’t I as a single child raised by someone that constantly blamed others and the world for her problems) that everyone’s mind worked the same, everybody deals with the racing and loops of thoughts you cant kick, or falls asleep with a song stuck in they’re head and wakes up and it starts again as if paused. Every morning. (Don’t drop that duh duh duh....grrr) For days! I mean doesn't everybody worry about every move they make, and lay in bed with they’re eyes closed trying to sleep and checking the clock twenty minutes later only to find SURPRISE, its been three hours! Or this relentless saviour complex I have, I can solve almost anyone's problem or at least help them find a path they are more comfy with but for years when it came to mine, I just couldn’t. This is just a few of the things i deal with or have been forced to deal with this life, Im sure i will touch on more. 
I have my children to thank for helping me learn how to deal with my version of life and not giving up on me when I know it would have been easier at times. (Dont drop that duhduhduh....ugh) I want to be honest in this blog, I pride myself on my honesty yet shy away from the darker, not so beautiful sides of who I am as if they don’t exist to the outside world. The thing is, I do not look sick, in fact I look great, besides a few extra pounds. My illness is not a physical one yet it has complete control from the inside out a lot of the time. I work very hard on a daily basis so I do not look like I am falling apart.
I feel emotions at a much higher level than the majority of humanity, I know this now. I don’t feel a lil bit of anything, if im sad, im so sad that even just being in my presence can break your heart. If something good happens and I feel a twinge of joy, I literally have to physically hold myself still sometimes cause it will surge like a lightening bolt through me and often some strange squeak comes out, fingers fully extended as if the energy just exploded form my core and out my extremities. Then, just as fast as it surges it disappears and there I am a woman bordering forty with this maniacal smile on my face like the joker and hair standing up like the professor from Back to The Future. Its quite a sight I am sure, and as much as it has been really hard to work with this side of myself I would rather be inside looking out and have to fix my hair then the onlookers forced to decide between the choice to ask if I am alright or back away slowly. Same with anger, although we have a bit of a deeper connection than other emotions, yea, thats right, we tight. Let me explain...or try;
I like to think my anger trigger point was when grandpa died, but looking back that is ridiculous, I was pissed at both my parents for what they put me through during the divorce but refused to take it out on them, they were in enough pain, they couldn't see it but i sure could.  When I am angry I scare people, I seem to fear nothing (not sure if that’s brave or not) and once I am angry there is no going back, I am completely incorrigible, illogical and refuse to listen. I have scared off men twice my size, not with violence of the physical kind, my verbal violence can be so articulated that I honestly think some people are scared to the core. I have shocked myself at times and thats not easy. Once I realized that I was growing into my version of the hulk I had to do something, I was starting to hate everyone and everything. 
I started replacing the empty yet extremely fucked up (for lack of a better word) threats with just simply making light of what it was that triggered me, albeit in an aggressive manner however it has proven effective in attempting to analyze what set me off and try to stop the rage fuelled rant.
I really wanted to give you an example but as I was trying to find one it proved difficult so im gonna call that progress. Anyway this venting became humorous to those around me, they all knew me so well that they would turn they’re heads and try not to laugh (ever been laughed at when your livid? its not cool, same as if are upset and someone says ‘calm down’ calm down, CALM DOWN?! like fuck off n all if you honestly believe im not trying, you think i wanna feel this way? like this is some kind of sick joke for me? pfft people!) in an attempt to not be caught in the crossfire of my verbal war. 
At first this angered me too (go figure, Hulkbitch) then one day, someone laughed and I took a step back and thought about what I had said and started laughing. Clearly my loved ones weren't laughing at my agony, but the words and descriptions i used to figure it out did tend to be funny. It takes a lot for me to get angry like that now, if I do tho, I still vent with sarcastic wit and make myself laugh to bring myself out of it. 
I think I have myself in line pretty well now, I guess I should give some history here, I was a very happy child on the outside but a ball of nerves within, my mother was extremely mentally ill (which i did not know til after her passing) and my father was a violent alcoholic. Luckily I was sheltered from the worst of what they put each other through as they separated when I was 2, but fought and fought and fought over me for nine years. My mum would insist dad never wanted me he just didn't want her to have me, said that I was never good enough in his eyes cause he wanted a boy. Dad, would point out the homeless lady pushing all her belongings in a shopping cart and say “hey kid, thats where your mum is headed, just you watch”. I know now they were just dealing in their own ways with what was happening between them but it really messed with me. 
My father, my daddy, quit drinking not long after the separation, i to this day believe that he did this not only for himself but for me, to show me that no matter what you can make changes, just gotta face the problem head on and deal with it so you can move past it. He was always a tough, vulgar, strong, stubborn, hilarious and short lil french man with an ego the size of Goliath. He taught me not to take shit from anyone if I believed in the topic at hand and to learn to turn a cold shoulder when needed. Emotions were not discussed, Im not even sure to this day if I can remember him ever saying I love you, but he didn’t have to, I know he did. 
Mum had her own ways of dealing over the years, she was all emotion, raw and uncut. She would always react first, think later, which meant she felt the need to apologize a lot.  For her mistake, for not being good enough, for not doing well enough this was so hard to watch. She would repeat the same self defeating patterns she had been doing her whole life and expecting things to change. Definition if insanity much? shitty part is back then they had no fucking idea what insanity was, nor did they care to look. Had someone just took her side and spoke for her she would still be here, if only she was honest with me about how sick she was, I may never have gotten as sick as I did. She thought she was protecting me...
This woman was the sun to my moon and I loved her more than words can ever express. She never believed me when I said it, she always said right up til the end that nobody ever loved her. I know this was not true cause I figured my dad wouldn't get so mad about stuff if he didn't care, the opposite of love is not hate, its indifference. Mum was always in and out of the hospital and it was super hush hush, I assumed she had cancer. I was petrified to lose her, so I didn’t ask questions, just waited.
The custody battle went on and on, I remember my dad pushing our 1970somthing car up the street for some reason, didn't phase me much. I just said “oh look theres my daddy, he looks mad!”. We went to Expo ‘86 in British Columbia and mum was subpoena’d to come back to the prairies for court immediately, so she had to leave her vacation just to go back and find out it was remanded.  They were both so angry all the time, I thought it was my fault...had I not been there there would be nothing left to fight about right?
Okay so divorce was finalized when I was 11...Grandma and grandpa (mums side) loved the shit out of me too, ive seen pics of gramma in the military which made sense as I grew up as to why she was so tough but she must have been retired by time I was born. They bought an old ‘70s van and converted it into beds in the back, a table and even a port a potty! They lovingly got personalized plates with my name and the number “2″ after it. They took really good care of me, always loved me and wanted what was best.
I remember around 10yrs old I realized my initials were B.S. and I was not impressed at all as not one word that came out my mouth (at that age) was BS. I was insulted and wanted it changed, plus I knew it would make mum happy if I changed my name to hers. The divorce was finalized my initials were changed to B.J....JUST in time for puberty, (woooooooo) yeah, didn't live that one down for a very long time.
My reason for bringing up my grandparents is so that you all know that aside from this somewhat bleak story thus far, I had many people that loved me, including mum and dad, they just preferred to fight about it. 
Shit, fuck, damn, I just had a memory, not a good one but I spoz thats why our brains block things out eh? I do not know how this came about, my mother was very abused growing up and it took a toll on her.  I remember mum and the  grandparents fighting, i remember gramma telling mum to get her head out of her ass and i remember trying to picture that...I was not going to be seeing them for a while til things cooled down.
Mum was sure that my grandpa had molested me, I am not going to say it didn’t happen but as far as I can recall my grandpa was the sweetest most loving man ever. anyway, mum was questioning me, yelling, badgering me and generally acting crazy i spoz, this was before I know what that looked like.  She kept asking inches from my face if he had done anything to me and i maintained that he hadn’t. Finally hours later I was tired and hungry and she was clearly still psychotic she yelled at me are you sure (for the millionth time) I finally yelled out “fine, he did it!” I had no idea what he had done, or when, cause i wasn't there i just wanted her to stop. She was making herself crazy and it broke my heart. I didn't see my grandparents again for three years. Grandpa had gone senile and was not himself, didnt remember close family members etc. When I got there, I ran in the house and we met at the doorway, me at the bottom of the entrance stairs and him at the top. I smiled, and he looked at me puzzled, then started crying, then laughing then crying. I was so glad he got to remember me. I missed him so much.
This was all before I was even a teenager. Grandpa died not long after he was put in a care home cause gramma wasn't able to care for him. His death was my first experience with such a thing, I had no way of knowing how to deal with a loss like this...so I guess I just didn’t.
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The Half of She
Growing up, I was always unapologetic; I never felt the need to explain myself or why I do what I do or how I did it. I was me & whoever didn’t like it could’ve excused themselves out my life. But the older I got, the more obstacles I came across. The more obstacles I came across, the more I played myself (I’ll explain it later) but it seemed like the more I played myself, the more I felt the need to explain myself. I know I shouldn’t have to, we’re all human.. we all fuck up. Some more than others, granted; but we all fuck up so we shouldn’t judge anyone right ? If it’s so right, then why am I writing this blog out now? What I don’t want is for this blog to be misunderstood, it’s not pity blog, it’s a venting blog.
What most people don’t know about me is that I deal with depression & anxiety. It takes everything in me to keep going (to do anything) but I do keep it pushing. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not using that as some safety blanket to excuse my fuck ups (no never) but to they both played a large role in a lot of what I did & how I did it. For me, I think it developed when I was younger. I was raised & surrounded by people who didn’t believe in “sitting down & talking” by nature, the people in my family go through things & instead of talking about whatever it is they went through, they would rather bottle it up & move on. They weren’t the affectionate type of people, which may not seem like a big deal to most but a simple hug means the world to a kid. Which I think is something that all parents should know since they were once children themselves. But, I guess not all parents got that memo.
I’ve been through a lot of bull shit, granted most of the time I put myself in those positions, but I’ve always bounced back from anything I put myself through. I haven’t been through it all, but still I consider myself to be strong. I’ve been called weak & weak minded & I won’t lie there were times where I’ve felt weak/weak minded (not bc I was told that I was weak) but for me, I think it was my weakest moments & the darkest moments that’s given me the most strength. It’s those times when everyone thought that I was the most weakest that’s given me the extra push to keep going & to stay strong. A lot of people don’t know it, but those days when I looked most vulnerable was the days where I would break night in the bathroom reevaluating everything about myself tryna think about what could I do to do be better. Those were the days where I would cry myself to sleep bc I didn’t know how to deal with what I was dealing with, nor did I know how to run to anyone. Those were the days where I would talk myself down from anxiety attacks & it was fucking hard, but once again I did it. I would break down & fall apart at night & pick myself up in the morning, go about my day to just break down all over again.
Nobody really knows the other half of she, but to love me is to know me & to know me is to understand me. U can’t tell me u love me without understanding who I am, that’s just my honest opinion. I picked up my first blunt at the age 12, not bc I was depressed not bc I was forced to any way shape or or form… but bc I simply wanted to. I was never taught about it so when I saw it for the first time my curiosity took over. I had my first drink later that year, a few years later I got drunk for the first time. (I had to be turning 15). My very first heart break was at the age of 16 & I leaned on weed & alcohol but not as much as when my aunt died (when I was 17) yeah I post her pictures & write these paragraphs about her but what nobody understands is what she was for me. They don’t get how her death affected me. She was literally my diary, she listened when I wanted to talk. She spoke when I wanted to hear, she hugged me when I needed to be hugged & told me it was gunna be alright even when I didn’t think it would. I spoke to her everyday & used to break nights on the weekends with her whether it was in person or through the phone we always broke night. Anyways, when she died my whole world shattered. my heart was sincerely broken & again nobody knew. She died in November, so I had to keep a brave face & still go to school. I missed her funeral & burial which till this day kills me a little more everyday. My everything, my last strain of hope was taken from me (or atleast I thought that was my last strain of hope) & I couldn’t deal. A year after that, my 4year relationship went down the drain but it was my senior year of high school. I had homecoming, tailgate, prom, senior trip & senior field day to look forward to & I wasn’t in the mood for none of it. By my senior year I was taking down alcohol like it was water & smoking like I was a chimney. Again, I had to keep a brave face bc I had school & this time work. The show kept going so I had to keep going. A year after that I was 19 & graduated, still dealing with my demons but I still kept it pushing. I met a cool cool guy November that year. It was the same week of Thanksgiving, except I really just met him again bc he was the friend of my ex. I liked his vibe & we hit it off well, now I’m not sure if it was bc we were both lit or if it was bc we actually did hit it off. But, anyways… we started hanging out more & more but instead of him lifting me he was dragging me down. I didn’t know how low he was in life (mentally) until I started getting sucked into his black hole. He introduced me to pills (Ecstasy) at the moment, it was all laughs but it got serious real quick. It wasn’t till the second time that he got physical with me that I finally learned my lesson. I left him alone. a year after that, I rekindle an old fire except he wasn’t an old flame back then, he was just a friend back then. But this time he was bae, or at least I thought so. The guy gave me a weird type of strength, he gave me life (as crazy as it sounds) when he would open his mouth to speak, it was about real things that most guys wouldn’t dare to speak on. He made me feel wanted & we complimented each other. But when u finally meet someone who’s just like u, it can go really good or really bad. For us, it went really bad & till this day on we still don’t talk. It broke my heart, I lost my guy & a good friend at the same time. I was able to deal with loosing him as a partner, but not as a friend. It wasn’t meant to be thou, at the age of 20 I was a hot ass mess & he didn’t even realize. What he didn’t know was that I was working Applebee’s during the day & a Mexican bar at night. It was like having a double life. During the day I was a waitress, & at night I was a bar dancer. At the same time I was going to school. I was doing it all just to get my car finally. But as usual nothing goes as planned & in return I was really depressed, once again I fell back into pills but this time, a little heavier. The men I danced for were all old & disgusting & would get hard on’s off the simplest grinds. I went home crying everyday bc I was really going against my morals just for money. But one thing I’m gunna say about that is before u go to judge a stripper, prostitute or whatever the occupation think about what led them to that, or what positions they were put in to have to go that route. My last straw at the bar was seeing one guy try to force one of the girls into the bathroom & another trying to touch me while I was dancing (both in the same night) I was done &i didn’t wanna be bothered anymore that I’ve already been bothered. Did my last round of dancing, took my tips walked out & never looked back. 21 was kinda different, the first few months were pretty good to me, the girl got her first car & a good paying job. But it wasn’t until June that things went down hill for me. June 12th, Pulse was shot up & I lost two friends.. Amanda & Mercedes.. 3 days later I got fired. 15 days after that, I lost my car. I hadn’t even had it for 6 months before I lost my car. When I lost my car, I lost my last strain of hope for anything to get better for me. It felt like my whole life had been spiraling out of control for some time now & I felt like I had enough, soooo I was drinking every day & back to the pills I went. My best friend called me out on my shit & 2 months later I was omw to NY. I left everything behind just like that, u woulda thought I was gunna be happy to leave but it was painful to leave behind what hurt me & almost killed me bc the healing process hurts too. It hurt me then & it still hurts now too. My pill taking era was my lowest era for me, & it’s the most painful one too. Imma always cry about it. But in that same token, nobody can tell me about that phase either. For yah, I was probably some pill popping junkie. But for me, it was my coping mechanism bc as many people who was around me & surrounded me & claimed to love me & be there for me, I was alone & really freaking sad with life. I was literally sinking & nobody had the slightest clue. It was almost normal for people see me drinking so much & smoking so much “she’s 21” “she’s young” not knowing that I was using drugs as a coping mechanism, granted it was wrong but like I said, it’s when u all think I was the weakest that actually made me the strongest. All of what I went through is gunna help me be a better big sister, aunt & one day it’s gunna make me one hell of a mother bc I know how to steer my little siblings in the right direction, I know what signs to look for. I know how to talk to my nieces, I know what to tell my nephews to get them to speak. I’ll lay in my daughter’s bed with her while she cries out her first heart break & I’ll pat my son on his back for all his accomplishments & tell him where he went wrong instead of shutting him down. & when the day comes that any of them feel a sense of curiosity, I’ll be there every step of the way to hold their hand do that they won’t slip, I’ll be there to steer them right.
So when u all see me line my eyes & straighten out my curls. When u all see me smile so big that my cheeks start to hurt. When u see me cracking jokes & getting excited for Black Ops Zombies. Know that’s me. When they ask u to describe me & u tell them “she’s bubbly & goofy & giggly” “she loves pizza & nuggets & beef patties too (chipotle is her fave)” “she loves makeup, & anything else that involves cosmetics” “she sings & dances even thou she’s not the best singer & doesn’t know the latest dance” “she loves fruits & she loves to sleep” “she loves hard & she loves just about any kid that comes her way” “she’s a little hard on her self, but she does it only to keep from slipping back into that dark place she was in” Know that’s me. When u hear me laughing till I’m crying, singing till my voice cracks into a new tone, or simply being annoying. Know that’s me. That’s all me. U could read this whole paragraph & be like “yup I know her" & granted u actually may know “her” & who she is but understand that u only know the half of she. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it with little to no regret about it. Not even this blog could fully explain me. I could use all of the words in all of the worlds & it still wouldn’t be enough, but still for whoever does know me thanks for being apart of the half of me & to anyone reading, thanks for trying to understand the other half of she.
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ohloll · 6 years
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Lets get personal😏😏😏 (all of them)
lmaoo oh boy here we go
1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?
already answered
2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
lil peep but he died
3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.
vaporizer (she got third degree burns). that you didn’t walk around a
4: What do you think about most?
work and jake
5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?
“that would be so sad”
6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
already answered
7: What’s your strangest talent?
i can juggle??
8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)
girls… are dramatic.  boys… are the only gender i’m friends with
9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?
actually i think someone did write a poem about me. i forget who. and there’s a song named brielle
10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?
it’s been quite a while
11: Do you have any strange phobias?
i don’t like lipstick
12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?
does heroin and pills in powder form and a vape count
13: What’s your religion?
baptist probably. idk all i know is i believe in god
14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?
uhhHhHHh idk
15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?
behind
16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?
mayday parade or lord huron or vance joy or every indie band ever
17: What was the last lie you told?
i don’t remember
18: Do you believe in karma?
i believe that everything comes back around, yes
19: What does your URL mean?
well, fuck
20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?
weakness: self sabotage (but working on it!!) and perfectionism. strength: determination and consideration
21: Who is your celebrity crush?
myself
22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
no i wish
23: How do you vent your anger?
i punch walls and create scars on my hands :)) but last time i was mad i cried and vented to a friend so baby steps am i right
24: Do you have a collection of anything?
i have shells that i collected from florida but an actual collection, no not really
25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?
talking on the phone
26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?
yeah i am actually
27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?
hate: my alarm clock. love: my dog yawning
28: What’s your biggest “what if”?
what if i didn’t relapse. where would i be, who would i be, etc.
29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?
no and no
30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.
my computer lmao
31: Smell the air. What do you smell?
air
32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?
phoenix az
33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?
east coast, that’s my home!!
34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?
who knows
35: To you, what is the meaning of life?
to grow and experience
36: Define Art.
art is anything you consider art
37: Do you believe in luck?
good question. i don’t think so
38: What’s the weather like right now?
it’s dark now but it rained earlier
39: What time is it?
12:27 pm rip to me
40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?
yes and no i have never crashed. it’s a damn miracle
41: What was the last book you read?
i’m not sure but i’m starting to read come back by claire fontaine. haven’t picked it up in days though
42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?
yeah
43: Do you have any nicknames?
braille
44: What was the last film you saw?
the adderall diaries
45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?
uhhh i used to get shin splints a lot when i played soccer those sucked
46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?
no
47: Do you have any obsessions right now?
i don’t believe so
48: What’s your sexual orientation?
i like who i like
49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?
yeah when i went to the pscyh ward senior year of high school for overdosing in school everybody thought i went to rehab lmao
50: Do you believe in magic?
yes, ms. frizzle from the magic school bus would never deceive anyone
51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?
after a while no, doesn’t benefit anyone
52: What is your astrological sign?
taurus
53: Do you save money or spend it?
usually save but lately i’ve been spending and i hate the feeling
54: What’s the last thing you purchased?
flavoring for snowcones because i thrifted this cool ass snow cone machine but it didn’t work very well :// we bought three but i threw the damn receipt away and i can’t return two of them. and wendy’s
55: Love or lust?
what’s the question
56: In a relationship?
yes :))
57: How many relationships have you had?
i’d say four
58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
no can you
59: Where were you yesterday?
i was at work and then i got ice cream with my mom and then visited my grandmother and then got cheesesteaks
60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?
no
61: Are you wearing socks right now?
no, wearing socks to bed is a crime
62: What’s your favourite animal?
sloths
63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? i didn't even see this question but idk literally just being yourself
64: Where is your best friend?
i don’t really have one. but kirsten’s in michigan and jake’s probably in his bed lmao
65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.
that’s too much work
66: What is your heritage?
i’m irish and i don’t know what else
67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?
my tired ass was sleeping
68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?
he doesn’t have one but that’s an interesting question lmao
69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?
are we alive
70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?
indeed but a lot of the time i'm so busy that it's hard to keep up with social life
71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?
save the dog. if my boss doesn’t understand i wouldn’t want to work for him anyway. i’d find another one
72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?
a) i would tell everyone so they can prepare. b) i would spend all my remaining money and do some cool shit. c) yeah i think it’d be very normal to be afraid
73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.
love
74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?
jordan belfort
75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?
8843
76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?
being on the same wavelength
77: How can I win your heart?
you can’t
78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?
absolutely
79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?
god i can’t choose one, everything is a domino effect
80: What size shoes do you wear?
7ish
81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?
idk probably a quote from a vine that only true viners would understand
82: What is your favourite word?
yeet
83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.
god
84: What is a saying you say a lot?
oh fuck
85: What’s the last song you listened to?
so will i
86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?
burnt orange
87: What is your current desktop picture?
this elephant that’s been my picture forever lmao
88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?
nobody, i don’t have hate in my heart like that
89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?
unsure
90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?
call my mother
91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
lmao u mean shrooms
92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
god i hate these kinds of questions
93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
none of them because they all had a purpose
94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?
idk i’m not big on celebrities
95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
maybe africa or europe or some cool tropical place
96: Do you have any relatives in jail?
no
97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?
yeah omg i was blacked and my friend drove me and my other friend home and the next day i found out that i threw up in his car and he had to clean it up i felt so bad fkdsklfsj
98: Ever been on a plane?
many times
99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?
everybody’s got something, be kind and be real
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darkcrono915-blog · 6 years
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Family is everything...that stresses us out!
Does anyone feel like they are their worst selves when they “return home” to visit family for holidays or random times?  I wanted to use my vacation time to go to Chicago, or somewhere else but then I had a reality check with my bank account.  I decided to come back home because, free lodging with my mom, and now I remember why I barely ever come home.   I want to be the “good person with family values” but how can you be that person if you’re family is, well....terrible.  Am I a bad person for thinking that?  Am I a good person for trying to push through it and try with my family anyway?  Am I a bad person for being at the point of giving up after over 30 years of crappy experiences and negativity on their behalf?  Am I bad for acknowledging the only reason I keep trying with them is because it’s socially taboo to “give up on your family”?  If you are reading this and feel like it, I welcome the comments from strangers below.  Or if you have similar stories you’d like to share, it really helps relieve the stress to vent and share yourself with all the random people that exist on the internet that weirdly want to read about your business.  Personally, I am writing this post because I don’t feel like there is anyone in my real life that I can share all this with... Do you want to hear the whole story or just what is stressing me out today?  How about a little bit of both. I had an verbally abusive father who cheated on my mom, and stole lots of our family’s money and tried to leave us with nothing.  He was in my life until my early 20′s, and I never liked him.  He treated my mom, my siblings, and I terribly.  I tried to let him back in my life once at 22, and it kind of backfired...so I have no relationship with him now, and life is way better.  A problem people never tell you about: once you cut one terrible family member out of your life, it’s super tempting to do that with all of them. My sister is mentally challenged, but also a lying deceptive scumbag.  It’s honestly hard to tell sometimes if her behavior is being shaped by her mental illness, or her overall bitchiness. As she’s gotten older, her condition has gotten worse.  It’s very sad, because there is nothing that anyone can do to help her or fix her.  She is just destined to...get worse.  It’s really hard on my mom who has gone above and beyond what any other person would do to take care of her, even pushing through the abuse my sister regularly gives her.   My brother is an ass hole, with no disabilities.  He has no excuse for his behavior and who he is, other then just being a jerk.  He has always been a jerk.  He used to be a charming jerk with lots of natural talents and success that made people look at him with respect and awe.  Through aging, circumstance, and honestly a crappy disposition, nowadays he’s a jerk with less charm and appeal who continues to be a Grade A Douche Bag...the only difference is, now the world isn’t shining on him as much.  Sometimes I feel bad for him, sometimes I am glad his life is shitty.
My mom, I have a hard time writing about.  On one hand she has been an incredible influence on my life and has been a huge saving factor for me and my siblings on many times.  Family is everything to her, except she’s been dealt a really crappy hand.  So now she’s constantly turn our shitshow of a family into the makings of a lifetime original movie.  It will never work, but she will never stop trying.  The problem with my mom is that I have been her therapist since I was ten.  She had nobody she could talk to about my abusive father, disabled sister, or douche-bag brother, and so I became the outlet and the “advice giving column”...10 year old me, 15 year old me, 20 year old me, 25 year old me, and 30 year old me is totally over it.  I wish I could be there for her, but I resent that she put so much baggage on me as a kid.   My biggest problem with my mom is that she doesn’t see the pain that I deal with regularly...which is one of the reasons I am writing this to you all right now, because my mom is among one of the many people  I can’t talk about my shit with...even though she is under the impression that we are thick as thieves, because SHE can share with ME everything....all though it is not the same for me.  
…So let me take a moment and back up and talk about one of the biggest issues I had growing up in the shitstorm of a family that I have.  I was always the “other kid”.  My sister was the one with all the problems, my brother was the golden child who made no mistakes, and then there was me...the one that, well...was there?  I never was given a voice, I never was seen as an individual.   My mom and dad were so wrapped up in how amazing my brother was, that I was just the...unremarkable kid.  I didn’t have the athletics, nor did I have the social graces, or the intelligence.  I was just...the other.  My achievements were never above average, and my pain was never seen as relevant.  Then, around the time my brother was in college, his life started to start sucking and he started to be disappointing to my parents (again, another parenting mistake on their part...just cause a kid starts not being successful doesn’t mean you just, get let down by them)  Then I started to get noticed by my parents, they were “so proud” of me...but when you’ve been getting the participation award you’re entire life, and you start getting “first place” because, the real first place became a letdown...it doesn’t feel like first place.  They even often have eluded to me being their “favorite” which is a bunch of crap because A) Parents shouldn’t have favorites and B) I know damn well I am not you’re favorite! I am just, you’re best option.  Even to this day, my mom notices me, until my brother is around and being “good” and then I still fall back into that same old category of being invisible.  
Another important side-story to help me express how I am feeling right now:  Several years ago I had to leave my job and move back home with my mom.  It was a real crisis depression moment for me.  I quit a job I loved, because there were some outside factors that just weren’t good, and I came “home” trying to figure life out...was I ever going to be able to do that job again?  Was it the circumstance I was in that caused me to leave, or am I really just a big failure?  These were questions I was considering...I was going through a lot, and nobody in my family or life really understood it.  They just saw me as someone that walked away from their career and was jumping on the fast track to nowhere....Interestingly enough, I dropped from the favorites list of my mom then too, into just being something that disappointed her.  This was the start of me acknowledging and dealing with my depression that I have.  Sometimes my super low self esteem comes out and runs the show, and I feel like nothing I do matters.  (Can you blame me?  I grew up in house that told me with their lack of action that NOTHING I DO MATTERS!)  While I was back home, I never got any support and help soul searching...Just a lot of the classic parenting attitude of “get back on that horse, and get your life together.”  Ok, I did need a lot of that, but I think I would have loved it if my mom listened to me and tried to help me understand what I was going through...or at least tried to be there to struggle with it with me...instead, every moment I was home I was her listening ear to all her legal problems, issues with my brother, and concerns involving my sister...Old habits die hard, or in this case, not at all. I think I hit my all time low when I finally moved out of my mom’s house, got my heart broken, was working the same job I was in high school, and all my attempts to be better or “Make something” of myself were failing...That was the most depressed I have ever gotten, and my mom never saw it as I real thing I was going through....but trust me it was, I have never felt so low.
Flashforward to right now.  I am home for the week, hearing about how she has never seen my brother so depressed...how he really needs us...how he needs to be cared for….how none of my problems were ever this bad (literally something she told me!)  And meanwhile, he still is the same douche bag that treats her and myself not unlike how my dad used to treat us...he is very verbally abusive to my mom.  She LETS him smoke pot every day in the house.  Now look, I have nothing against smoking pot...well, I do...I think it’s stupid, but that’s an opinion and I don’t think it should be illegal...but should a mom really be the person who is encouraging this kind of behavior?  She puts up with so much of his crap because “He’s going through a hard time” but where was this heart when I was going through a hard time?  Oh that’s right...I’ve never been through anything like this before, according to her....So yeah, that’s what I have against my mom, that she doesn’t see me as a person.
All this doesn’t matter when I am back in MY home, hours away from these people...I can just suck it up for Thanksgiving and Christmas (Which are my two least favorite days of the year because I have to be with all of them) but...am I so wrong for hating every moment I am with them?  
And you may be thinking, “Dude, you just need to try harder, your family needs you.”  You are seeing me at the end of my rope, but I promise in my life I have tried so hard to be there for them.  I used to love the idea of a loving close family just like my mom does today.  Family holidays used to be my favorite times of the year, because maybe this year we’d be a close normal happy family!  I have been there for my sister in so many times where she needed us, maybe would turn her life around, only to find it to be a situation where she was taking advantage of the situation.  I have tried for years to have a relationship with my brother...at first I idolized him as any younger brother would (and he was a terrible person back to me) then I blamed my dad for our relationship (Which isn’t 100% wrong, my dad made us compete for his love which is part of our issues towards each other today).  So I kept trying, and kept being let down and hurt.  Finally after 20 years of trying, I stop trying...and my mom acts like I am the one who is wrong!  It should be noted, that my brother never tries.
So I’m looking at this family this week and am 110% done.  Is that wrong?  Am I a bad person?  What would you do?  What have you done before in a similar situation?  How terrible does your family have to be for you to stay home on the holidays?  Every year I think about just not coming to Christmas or Thanksgiving but that seems like the worst thing to do to my mom...but honestly, I hate being around these people so much.  They don’t see the real me, and they don’t give me the chance to show them who that person is...and they wouldn’t care even if they saw him.
If you’ve read all this (Good lord, why would you read this!?!) I’d love to hear your thoughts.  If I disagree with them, I won’t be mean to you...I just won’t administer whatever suggestions you give.  I’d appreciate any wisdom or insight you have.  And just for reading this long, first, blog post of mine...I thank you!
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