#in fact ever since it got colder and i began wearing more covering stuff it has passed but every so often now i get this. terrible sensatio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underworld-of-imagines · 3 years

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The Stars - Dean Winchester

Prompt: “Anything for you, Y/N. Anything.”

A/N: Wow so I found this one and decided to finish it. Hope you guys like a cute little imagine I wrote for Dean.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”

Her haunting words startled to awake, tears streaming as the image of Dean and Sam’s dead bodies freshly replayed in your mind. Your skin was covered in a sheer layer of sweat, glistening ever so slightly in the darkness. The pounding of your heart ricocheted through your body as you forced air into your lungs. Shadows in the corners of your room started to dance with the darkness – in your delirious state, you could have sworn that there were people standing in the corners.

‘It was just a nightmare Y/N. Just a nightmare.’ You reminded as the pounding of your heart began to subside. But the anxiety still ran hot through your veins, the panic settling deep into your bones, causing you to shake from fear. ‘There’s nothing there,’ you reminded as your eyes flicked over the dark corners of the room nervously, searching for any sign of danger. Giving up, you rested your head back on the soft pillow, willing for the panic to stop.

The gold numbers glistened in the dark lighting, your haunting eyes reflecting back at you, chilling your blood. Raising a hand up to the heavy wooden door, you landed two knocks before letting your hand fall to the handle.

“Dean?” You questioned as you entered the pitch-dark room, your voice quiet and timid. “Dean are you awake?” Usually after a nightmare, you would seek out Dean, searching for the warmth and protection he offered. There was something you found so comforting when you were around Dean, when you were in his arms.

“Y/N?” Dean croaked, his voice thick with sleep. The room flooded with the warm light of his lamp, illuminating his tired frame. “Another nightmare?” You nodded, nervously folding your arms over your chest. “Come here,” he gestured, patting the other side of his bed. Cautiously, you walked over to the bed before climbing on top, crawling into his open arms.

“You’re okay,” he soothed, his rough hand gently pushing through your hair. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.” You nodded into his chest, taking his warming scent in. Dean never failed to calm you down, he always knew exactly what you needed, and was always willing to give it.

“Was it the same nightmare?” He asked, his hands tracing patterns over the flannel you were wearing.

“No, it was different this time. Scarier.” Your voice came out soft, softer than you had ever heard it before.

“Well whatever it was, it’s okay. We’re all here, and we’re all fine.” Nodding, you let your head fall into his chest, letting your lungs fill with another deep breath of his scent.

You laid in that position for a while, letting his warmth sink deep into your bones, his scent filling the deepest corners of your lungs. He gently hummed some old rock songs that you vaguely recognised from his collection, attempting to lull you back to sleep. His hand gently trailed up and down your back, leaving fleeting touches that sparked your skin with excitement.

‘Just tell him how you feel, you could have this all the time.’ You tried to convince yourself. For the longest time, you had harboured feelings for the hunter, ever since you joined the crusade. But every time you attempted to tell him how you felt, something happened, or you freaked out and bailed. So, you stayed quiet, silently pining after the attractive man from the backseat of the impala.

“Can’t sleep, can you?” His voice broke your thoughts, the humming had stopped, and the room was now blanketed in silence.

“No, I can’t.” The words were barely a whisper even in the silent room. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer into his large frame, gripping you tightly in his grasp. You savoured the feeling of his strong muscles around your back, your cheek awkwardly pressed against his chest as you were held impossibly close to him.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he suggested once he released his grip on you. Nodding, you sat up as he shuffled around the room, pulling on a pair of sweats and a flannel. He grabbed a blanket out of the cupboard, throwing it beside you. “Do you need anything?” His hands through one of the drawers beside his bed.

“Maybe a pair of sweats?” You asked and he nodded, throwing a pair at you. He turned around as you pulled up the sweats, making your heart burst at the kind gesture.

“Okay, let’s go.” He grabbed the blanket he had pulled out, bundling it into his arms before throwing some snacks on top. You followed him out of his room to the garage, where baby was parked.

“Do you want to choose some music?” Dean offered, grabbing the cassette out of the player. Your heart filled with warmth as you rifled through his collection. He never let anyone choose the music. Ever. But here he was, giving you free rein of the music for the drive. That made your heart burst with warmth.

“How about some Led Zeppelin?” You suggested, holding up the Led Zeppelin cassette you had gotten him for Christmas. He smiled and nodded, glancing at you as he sped along the dark road.

Dean had a destination in mind, a little backcountry road that led up a hill he had once stumbled upon. He always wanted to take you there, to look at the stars in the sky, but the timing was never right. You were the only person he ever wanted to show this spot to, he wanted it to be your spot. Luckily, it wasn’t too far from the bunker, so you could go there whenever you weren’t hunting – which was a rare occurrence.

“Where are we going?” You asked, watching the dark road ahead.

“Just a place I found. It’s not too far, maybe another mile or two.” You nodded and rested your head against the window, watching as the trees speed past, lit by the bright headlights.

Mere minutes later, Dean pulled Baby off onto a dark side road, only wide enough for one car. Wondering, you lifted your head up to see where you were going. A shred of fear split your heart as you thought of all the horrific possibilities of where he was taking you.

“Don’t stress Y/N,” he soothed, reaching out to rub your arm gently. “We’re just going somewhere quiet to watch the stars,” you nodded, grabbing onto his hand and giving it a squeeze.

The impala rocked along the dirt road, kicking up dust as you sped up to the hill. You knew that Dean hated getting her dirty and would probably spend half the day tomorrow cleaning her off and working on her. It’s about all he seemed to do lately when you weren’t hunting.

Pulling off to the side, he put her in park before turning off the car. He turned to look at you, his eyes glancing over your body before he grabbed the stuff out of the back. “Come on,” you followed him out of the car, over to where a small patch of grass was. Laying the blanket out, he threw the snacks on top before laying down, motioning for you to join him. Agreeing, you moved over to the blanket, laying down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder.

Silence fell over the two of you as your eyes looked at the stars in amazement. The sky was brighter than you had ever seen it, bright with stars and colours of the galaxy. A chill ran over your spine as the wind got colder, tickling the back of your neck.

“Do you know much about stars?” You asked, moving closer into his body searching for warmth.

“Not really. Only that they’re pretty, and the brightest one has your name on it.” You felt a warm blush creep up on your cheeks, thankful that it was dark out and he couldn’t see it. “Sam probably knows something if you’re interested in learning. People used to navigate by the stars, that’s all I know.” His arm wrapped down around your body, pulling you even closer into his warmth.

“Before he died, my dad had this telescope in the backyard. Whenever it was a clear night, we’d take look through it.” You recalled, fond memories playing through your mind of cold nights with your dad. “For my seventh birthday he bought me a constellations book. Of course, I’ve don’t remember any of them though.” Dean rubbed his hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

“Maybe we can learn them together. I mean when we’re not hunting.” Your heart burst with love at the thought of learning the stars with Dean. The fact that he was willing to learn something with you, the man who knew nothing other than hunting, wanted to learn stars.

“It sounds good to me,” you mumbled, sleep overtaking your body. You looked at the stars one more time before flicking your eyes down to Dean’s face. “Thank you for this,” you whispered before closing your eyes and dozing off.

Dean smiled and kissed your forehead lightly. “Anything for you, Y/N. Anything.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean imagine #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean x reader fluff #dean fluff

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exosmuttytalk · 4 years

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Guardian - II

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, unnamed female OC (told from the perspective of DO)

Genre: angst.

Rating: mature.

Warning: this deals with topics darker than my usual. Death, suicide and mental health problems mentioned. Proceed with caution and take care!

Summary: there is no summary because the core happening of the story is what makes it as a whole, so you gonna have to read to find out lol

Word count: ~3000

GUARDIAN I

**************************************

A three work question popped in my head as I put all the clues together, but I really did not want to even entertain that though. There sure must be other explanation; that could not be happening.

Jackie could see me; that was for sure. Maybe this was all an elaborate prank? You could have a twisted sense of humour at times, but this was going too far.

I turned around the sofa to kneel before you and looked straight into your face, which was not even ten centimeters away from mine. I could have laid my hand against your cheek. I could have leaned in and kissed you on the lips. But I didn't.

Instead, I screamed. As loud and screeching as I could manage, scraping my throat in the process. You didn't even flinch.

Jackie, on the other hand, who by then had been lying in her bed next to the TV stand, did hear me. She leaped of her seat and hissed at me, the hair on her back standing.

Her reaction startled you enough to finally stand up and hold her, babying her as you usually did, whispering soft words next to her head to calm her down.

"What is it, girl? You're fine, there's just the two of us here. Let's go find a treat for you, hm?"

Just the two of us?

My rapid breathing was making me lightheaded and dizzy. Your words echoed in my head and fit in perfectly with the idea that had been taking shape in my head since I was unable to open the door earlier.

My gaze searched the room, looking for anything that could either confirm or deny it, and it came upon a couple still closed white envelopes at the basket we used to sort the very few important letters we may receive in the mail.

As I already expected, I was unable to touch the papers, but what I saw was more than enough. The first envelope was addressed to you and rubricated with the seal of a funeral home. The second one was an official government letter. The one you would get with a death certificate inside.

Was I dead?

My disbelief was slowly being replaced by anxiety, confusion and fear. This wasn't possible. I clearly remembered last night's fight. Then this morning, I had woken up in our bed, as usual. You had already left for work and I had the day off. Or had I?

I was heavy panting while sitting there on the floor, trying to remember what I had done the whole morning exactly. Had I showered? I couldn't remember picking the pair of soft jeans and white t-shirt I was wearing. Had I eaten anything? I didn't feel hungry. But I could feel the cold, hard floor under my body. I could see and smell everything around me. I could hear you coming back from the kitchen with a bag of salmon treats in the hand free from the cat that was comfortably lying in your arm.

I didn't even give myself time to think anymore. I stood up quickly and purposely stood in the way I knew you would make back to the couch. I squared up, expecting our bodies to impact against each other. But the collision never arrived. Instead, you just walked straight through me. As if I wasn't standing right there. As if I didn't even have a body.

I could see you shudder, as if a sudden cold gust of wind had made its way through the collar or your shirt and down along your back, goosebumps forming on your skin.

Once again, Jackie looked straight at me, unequivocally fixing her green eyes onto me, recognizing me.

But you, you were completely oblivious. Somehow, we weren't on the same realm anymore.

I was more than probably dead.

How? I didn't remember being sick or even feeling unwell lately. I was actually so excited for the next month to come, we had plans to make a road trip to make the most out of my longer than usual holidays. We were gonna stay at my parent's for a couple weeks.

Thinking about them was the final straw that broke the precarious balance I had managed to keep and I started crying silently.

I stared at your face and wondered how this could ever happen to us. We had most of our life in front of us and we knew we wanted to spend it together. Seeing as Jackie bumped her head affectionately against your hand after she had been fed made me think of that beautiful patience of yours and how you cared for people you loved. You were going to be a wonderful mother. But not to my kids.

The dark rim around your beautiful eyes seemed absolutely normal to me right now. Everything made sense. I couldn't remember, but as for Sarah's words, I had been...dead for around a month. And they had all probably been looking after you. Making sure you got out of bed, ate and went to work or socialized in any way.

Tears rolled down the side of your face to the cushions on the couch, but you didn't seem to mind. Jackie was still resting on top of you, offering that silent support she always seemed so good at providing for you. Something I would never be able to provide for you anymore.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, unknowingly sharing our grief, but it was already dark outside when you stood up. You grabbed Jackie’s bowl once again and got into the kitchen, where you came back from carrying it filled to the brim with dry cat food, stuff she didn’t particularly seem to enjoy, and no food for you. Instead, there was a three quarters full bottle of whiskey under your arm. You didn’t like whiskey, we only had that bottle lying around to serve in the case of visits.

After you put the bowl back down on the floor, you made your way to the rest of the house. I followed you closely, mimicking your wincing when you took a sip of the lukewarm liquid in the bottle as you made your way to our bedroom. There, you rummaged around to find your laptop and got undressed, to later get into the main bathroom.

When we got this house you insisted at least one of the bathrooms should have a big bathtub. You didn’t have that growing up but made the most out of the one we had at home. I smiled bitterly to myself remembering of times I would come back tired from work and you would be waiting for me to indulge together in the relaxing warmth of the water against tired muscles. Other times, you would be waiting already inside of the tub, naked underneath the bubbles, and that was no time for relaxation.

You took you time preparing your bath. Added your favourite lavender salts, pulled all your hair in a bun and started playing Swing Kids on your laptop, aiming the screen towards the water. You got into the piping hot water, not really caring about the fact that it was clearly too warm, your skin flushing when it came in contact with it. Taking small sips, you had already gone through almost half of what was left of the bottle.

Swing Kids was always your favourite among all the stuff I participated in. You always told me how it was so different from any other war movie. I remember when you came to pick me up from shootings with food, and when you used to help me memorize my lines. How much you liked my haircut for the film and how you’d sometimes fall asleep on the couch, stroking my hirsute hair. I can remember your bright smile on the premiere day as you watched Ro Ki-Soo prance across the screen and your soft chuckles at the appropriate times. You even tried your hand at tap dancing, but discovered soon enough coordination and precision only came to your body when you were drawing construction models.

There was none of that left. As the movie progressed, your face became more flushed due to the effects of the alcohol, your eyes sadder and the water colder. The bottle emptier. Occasional hiccups erupted from your throat. It made me giggle, but you didn’t notice.

The movie was paused right after the big performance, but before the abrupt ending. Taking a last, longer swig out of the bottle, you rested your head against the rim of the bathtub and closed your eyes. Time went by and only your slow, superficial breathing, could be heard in the room. It was impossible for me to know whether you were awake or not; you had always been a very light sleeper, but I doubt anyone can sleep in water cold enough to cause all the hair in your body to stand up.

That bathtub had always been too big. It was already roomy for me, so for you it was closer to the size of a kids swimming pool. And you began slipping in. At first, I didn’t notice. Only when the water reached your bottom lip, I realized you had let yourself slide into the water with no resistance. I still didn’t know if you were asleep, but that didn’t matter because you were probably completely drunk. You were still sinking down into the water and soon enough, both your mouth and nose would be covered. And you were still unresponsive.

I began screaming again. I banged on the sides of the tub and on the walls of the bathroom. I tried splashing the water. I tried to pull the plug to no avail.

I was running out of ideas when the water was already touching the tip of your nose. That’s when it occurred to me that Sarah may have been on to something. That you may have done this on purpose. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Hell no.

I quickly stood up from my stop and ran through the house looking for Jackie. That little shit was peacefully sleeping on her bed, oblivious to anything going on around her. Do cats even care? I stomped forcefully on the floor next to her to wake her up and she stared at me, groggy and in disdain. She took her sweet time to stretch and wake up, only to ignore me and go hide under the sofa.

I kneeled down and pleaded with her. I tried to temp her with some of the treats of the bag that was still on top of the sofa. No noise came from the bathroom. Desperation tears were running down my cheeks as in a last attempt, I reached for her underneath the sofa. I didn’t expect to feel her fur and the warm flesh underneath when my hand reached her loin. Jackie freaked out as much as I did, but I wasted no time and grabbed her forcefully with both hands before jumping off the floor, her wrestling between my arms.

You face was almost completely covered by water by the time I came back into the bathroom. I didn’t know how long you’d been that way. I panicked. I dropped Jackie right into the tub, on top of your head. She struggled around the bathtub, wheezed and scratched every part of your body she had access to in order to get out of the freezing water.

But it worked. You opened your eyes, sat straight up in the bath, coughing and gasping for air. You managed to crawl out of the tub to hand on tightly to the toilet bowl and vomit all the alcohol from your stomach, hair stuck to your reddened face, bloodshot teary eyes, panting for any air that could make its way into your lungs. But alive.

I leaned back into the wall and slid down to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, letting go of some of the tension and watching you clean yourself up and flush the toilet before lying down on the hard, cold stone floor. I was only able to see your back from where I sat, but I noticed your shoulders shudder in a silent cry.

Jackie came back from whatever whole she’d been hiding in, still soaked from the unsolicited bath. I apologized in my mind. She came to sit right beside your head and began licking a particularly nasty looking scratch she had inflicted in her struggle. In return, you sat up straight, grabbed a small towel from a cabinet nearby and enveloped the cat into it. That way, you took care of each other.

“Why did you jump in?” You voice sounded hoarse and painful, your throat would probably suffering injuries from the water and later coughing.

You sank your nose into the animal’s wet fur and started crying there.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I slid across the bathroom floor and surrounded you with my arms, embracing you from behind and resting my head in your shoulder; the best way I could replicate the way we used to sit at the sofa when just watching TV.

Your body stiffened at first. Still naked and cold from the water, you were even more sensitive than usual to temperature changes. You shuddered when my chin hit the top of your shoulder. But you didn’t move or recoil. You just sat there, paralyzed, Jackie in your arms looking alternatively between you and me, putting all my might into making you recognize my presence.

“Soo..?” Your voice came as nothing but a whisper but relief flooded me over.

“Hey,” I responded softly, unsure if you would hear.

I still don’t know if you could hear me, but it didn’t really matter anymore. You body didn’t feel so tense anymore. Even if you didn’t feel me the same way you used to, I could sense you softening under mine, even leaning back searching for some support.

I hugged you as tightly as I could, watching as goosebumps erupted on every part of your skin that was connected to mine. But I didn’t let go.

“Why did you leave?” The pain in your plea hit me like a ton of bricks.

“I…I don’t know, baby. I am here now”, I struggled to get my words out of my choked up throat.

“I’m not ready.”

Neither am I, I thought.

Time goes by in a different way when you don’t have human needs. Or when you don’t have a body, altogether. Your sniffing was the only thing that took me out of the state I was in. Holding on to you. Focusing on feeling your body close to mine. Listening to your breathing. An almost meditative state I could’ve stayed in forever. But you were getting cold and you’d end up getting sick.

I shifted around and scurried out of the place I had been occupying to kneel right before you, to look at you in the eyes and grab your hand.

“Baby, listen. Listen to me!” I shook your hand forcefully and you looked straight through me, but you were attentive.

“You can’t do this to yourself. Tomorrow you’re calling your mom first thing in the morning and you’re going to live with her for a while. Until you get better, hm?” I made a stop waiting for some kind of response that never came, although something inside me told me you were getting the message.

“You have a lot of things to live and many people who love and care for you. You can’t do this to them, do you understand?” I caressed your face with the palm of my hand and you leaned into my touch, but your eyes still looked for me around the room.

“You are…the better half of us two. You need to go on living for us both. Remember that list of stuff we wanted to do together?” The knot on my throat barely let me speak, but I soldiered on. “You’re gonna do it all! You have time, you have money and lots of friends who are going to come along. You are not alone. You can still enjoy life. And someday, you will laugh again, baby. You will laugh the same way you always used to do. And I’m gonna be watching it all and laughing with you.”

Tears rolled down your face freely. Jackie, who had until that point been grooming herself at your lap, leapt off you and trailed off the bathroom, tail proudly raised and almost dry.

“If it weren’t for that cat, you may not be here now,” I said mostly to myself as I noticed you eyes following your pet. “She’s just a small portion of all the people in the world that love you and would be devastated if you were gone, myself included. Please don’t do it, baby. Please live, for me.”

I will always wonder how much of my message I managed to get across to you and how much you actually were able to take in, considering not only the extremely unusual circumstances, but the fact that there was the equivalent of more than half a bottle of whiskey still running through your system. You leaned back into the wall of the tub and nodded softly to yourself.

“Please don’t go,” your request came softly and chocked up, sobs starting to form at the back of your throat.

I slid down to the floor so my head was resting on your lap, in the same spot Jackie had occupied before; kissing every patch of skin I had access to in the way. I felt extremely tired and groggy and your image before my eyes got progressively hazy.

“I won’t. I will always watch over you. I love you,” were the last words to come out of my lips before I closed my eyes.

_______________________________

(Sorry Jackie for throwing you into freezing water)

Any feedback welcome!

GUARDIAN I

Masterlist

More Ksoo:

Everyday (OC/Fluff)

Jealousy (Chansoo/Smut)

#exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #do fanfic #do #do kyungsoo #do kyungsoo smut #do fluff #do angst #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo angst #exo angst #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #my stuff

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 6 years

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Speech Impediment - Chapter 7

Ships: Logicality, prinxiety, platonic dlamp

Summary: After hearing the voicemail left by his mother, Dexter goes into temporary hiding while he clears and collects his thoughts. The others, not knowing where he went, become worried and search for him. When they find him, it’s in a place they’d never expect. Or rather, he finds them.

AO3 - Here

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 8

They all watched as he walked away, calling his name but receiving no answer. The four of them didn’t know what to say or to do to keep him from walking away. So they did nothing, looking at each other for an answer of what to do.

Logan decided their best bet was to wait for him to come back to the dorms on his own.

Three hours passed since Dexter had walked off after the voicemail, and he had yet to return. Their room was the first place Patton and the others had checked, in case he had arrived there first, but there was no sign that he had been there. They took extra care looking for Dexter, in the shower, in the closet, and under the beds, he still wasn’t there. Roman was the next to suggest they check the coffee shop, but sadly had no luck. Logan then gave the following suggestion and led them to the library, where they looked and asked around. Dexter hadn’t been there either.

By the time they decided to head back the sun was already beginning to set on the horizon. When walking through the parking lot Roman noticed that his buggy was gone, meaning that he had left the campus. Patton started to openly panic at the news.

“Oh, it’s getting colder by the minute.” Patton whined as he looked out the window as the sky became darker. “The coat he was wearing wasn’t very thick and he’s so sensitive to the cold!”

“Come on Pat, Lies and Dolls should be fine. The car heater will be keep him warm until we find him.” Roman said to the worried dad, trying to calm him.

“Actually Dexter told me that the heater broke and won’t be fixed until Monday.” Logan corrected him, but when he noticed Patton’s breathing get heavier and more frantic he quickly back tracked. “Ah, but he has an emergency blanket and supplies in his trunk! And stores are still open, he could be taking refuge somewhere.”

That made Patton feel slightly better, but he was still scared that his youngest son might be lost or hurt somewhere, or worse...

“What if he doesn’t comeback?” Virgil voiced his thoughts suddenly, curling up on Dexter’s bed as he would usually do on Patton’s. “Do you think whatever his mom said scared him away for good?”

Everyone looked to Virgil in surprise, making the emo flinch in embarrassment and shame. That thought hadn’t occurred to any of them. Dexter may very weird and likes to hid away from the world at times while under stress, but he always came back eventually once he felt better.

“No that can’t be it, look.” Logan spoke up, pointing over at Dexter’s terrarium, “Dee Dee is still in there. If he had actually left for good he wouldn’t leave her behind.”

Pointing that fact out made everyone ease up a bit, but Virgil still didn’t look too hopeful. Patton, being the only other one as visibly shaken up, went over and sat next to him, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“I’m scared too kiddo, but he’ll come back. Eventually.” He said, mustering up all of his strength to give a reassuring smile. But Virgil could still see doubt and fear in his eyes.

Each of them there had spent the past year getting to know each other and their stories. They’ve grown close and formed a life long friendship, and hopefully relationships too. That’s why when each of them learned that Patton was getting a new room mate they had become worried someone would take him away. Roman and Virgil shared a dorm room together, Logan lived with his folks in the city, so keeping an eye on him was not always possible.

So when Patton became persistent in including Dexter in their group they had been skeptical at first. But as they got to know him and once he opened up to them, it was clear that he too would be a life long friend. Even so, how well did they truly know him?

What if he didn’t see them in the same way? Would he ever really leave without a word?

Suddenly, two warm hands clasped onto his and brought Virgil out of his pessimistic thoughts. Looking up from his lap he met Roman’s compassionate gaze staring right at him.

“It’ll be okay, love.” Roman said, his voice low, “In the mean time, let’s all go look again.” Virgil nodded, keeping his head down to hide the red that was surly flushing his cheeks.

Roman, Virgil, and Patton then headed out to search some more, taking Roman’s red Audi. Logan stayed behind in the room to contact them in case Dexter came home on his own.

Roman drove cautiously through the snow drift to avoid sliding on ice. The car’s brights were kept on while they searched to they could get a better look at their surroundings, but were turned down whenever a car passed as to not blind the other driver.

They went up and down the city streets closest to the University before branching out. Searching aimlessly as they scoured the sidewalks for a man that looked like Dexter, or a yellow Volkswagen bug that looked like his model. They peered into store and restaurant windows as they drove by, not actually going in order to not prolong the search.

Holding his cell tightly in his grip, Virgil called Dexter for the eighth time since they got in the car, but was sent to voice mail again after hearing it ring a dozen times.

“Love, that has to be the tenth time you called him. His phone is probably dead or on silent.” Roman said to him from the wheel, Virgil sitting beside him in the front seat.

“Or he’s ignoring me.” Virgil muttered.

“Nonsense kiddo, you’re brother wouldn’t do that to you.” Patton chimed in from the seat behind Roman.

“Or he is.” He grumbled under his breath, putting his phone in his pocket and turning his gaze back to the window.

“Sweetheart, you don’t know that.” Roman attempted but was interrupted quickly when Virgil raised his voice back at him.

“Yeah I don’t, because out of all of us here I’m the one he cares about the least!”

The car came to a slow stop when they hit a red light at an intersection. Roman and Patton both turned their heads to Virgil in surprise. The emo huffed and crossed his legs under his jacket, pulling the stings on his hoodie to close the hood over his eyes.

“You all get along with Dee so well. You were his first friend, Logan connects with him over their tutoring nerd shit, and you and him are so creative that it’s natural for you to get along.” Virgil confessed, gesturing to both Patton and Roman respectively when he mentioned their bonding with Dexter. “We have nothing in common. He loves horror and gore, but that stuff just gives me anxiety. He likes snakes and reptiles but I like cats. I never know what talk to him about, I can’t even talk to him about his writing because when I read his last story it gave me a panic attack but I was too embarrassed to tell him. How can I call myself friends with him?”

Roman and Patton looked at each other in worry before turning back to Virgil, listening as he gave his uncertain monologue. They hadn’t been aware that he had been feeling guilty about not being able to connect well with Dexter, because they all thought that both of their love for all things spooky already made the two of them great friends. Apparently that’s not how Virgil saw it.

Roman was about to say something, reaching out a hand, but was stunted again when a soft knock came from outside the passenger window. Everyone in the car turned to looked at the knocker knocking and were surprised to see it was actually Dexter himself. He was draped in a blanket and covered in a small layer of snow. His skin was an unholy pale shade and his lips were turning blue.

“Would you mind not giving me a ride?” He smiled.

Hearing his signature speech impediment they all immediately hopped out of the car crying, “Dexter!”. Virgil was the first to wrap his arms around the snaky boy, followed by Patton then Roman, who had to get around the car. All of the sudden each of them started to spew questions and talking over each other.

“Where have you been, Dee? We were worried sick!”

“Why the fuck weren’t you answering you’re fucking phone?”

“Why are you here? Where’s you’re car?”

“Language! But seriously, why did you run off?”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“Did we do something wrong?”

Dexter’s head began to spin from all the questions that were shot at him all at the same time, and the fact that they were hugging him a little too hard.

Out of nowhere a loud horn honked at them and they all turned to see that a car had pulled up behind them, waiting for them to move so he could continue down the road.

“Can’t you see we’re having a moment, shitbag?!” Virgil yelled at the driver. The driver honked at them once more before going around them and rolling the window down as they went past.

“Assholes!” The older man shouted at them and drove away.

“Fuck you!” Virgil shouted back, flipping the car off, ignoring Patton as he lectured him about cussing again.

“I’m not sorry, but my car didn’t break down and my phone isn’t dead.” Dexter explained after getting air back in his lungs when they let go to confront the car. “I wasn’t walking back when I didn’t see a normal car parked at a green light.”

“What do you mean normal? Casey is an awesome car.” Roman defended for his Audi.

“Yes, unusual.” Dexter scoffed, trying to be sarcastic, but just confused everyone. “Always mind. Anyway, can you not give my car a jump?”

“When you’ve been out here for hours? No way!” Patton sternly refused, pushing Dexter towards the car door, “You are coming home right now!”

“But my car-”

“Can wait until tomorrow, amigo.” Roman told him, getting into the car as well. “Where’d you park it?”

“Not in front of the reptile shop.” They all gave him a stage look. “L-looking at snakes calms me down.”

“Okay he’s not normal. Let’s get back so we can get him warmed up.” Virgil said from the back seat, letting Dexter be in the front so he could be closer to the heater.

Patton called Logan and told him that they were on their way back with Dexter, and to prepare a heater and blankets for when hey arrived. The car ride back was swift, but not too rushed, and they pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes later. Everyone helped Dexter get out of the car and into the elevator. Normally Dexter would have refuse to use the elevator, but Patton wasn’t having it and would not let him walk up three flights of stairs.

When they walked into room 203, several blankets were set on Dexter’s bed like a nest, and a small heater was set next to the bed on the desk. Logan immediate walked over and pulled Dexter over to sit in the blanket nest, and keeled in front of him to check his body for any frostbite, starting with the hands and face.

“Just like a mother hen.” Roman mumbled, but went ignored.

When Logan finished his examination he let out a relived sigh and stood up. “Only some minor frost nip on the ears, cheeks and hands.” He said before suddenly cupping Dexter’s cheeks in his hands. “Treatment includes holding the nipped body part against warm skin, and blowing on it.”

Dexter quickly pulled away before Logan could attempt the latter treatment, extremely uncomfortable with having the other’s hands all over him.

“Or I couldn’t wrap myself in a blanket.” Dexter said instead, scooching a tad away.

“Mind you mother, Dee.” Patton said as he sat down next to him.

“Patton, don’t encourage it.”

“Why? You’re obviously the mom of this group!” Roman joined in. “You always lecture us about our diet and exercise-”

“Because I don’t want you to die.”

“Like a mom!”

Thus a friendly argument broke out among the three of them. Patton and Roman listed off all the motherly things he does, and Logan fervently denying them, saying he was just he was just being considerate, then Roman saying that’s exactly why he’s the mom.

While the others got distracted by their fighting, or as Patton calls it, discussing--or as Logan calls it, debating--Virgil walked over and quietly sat down next to Dexter.

“You feeling better?” He asked, albeit a bit awkwardly.

“No, I’m feeling awful.” The still shivering boy replied.

“Good.” Virgil said simply, seemingly dropping the conversation, but Dexter noticed him continue to twitch and didn’t know why that was.

“How about you?” He asked in turn. Virgil jolted slightly, as if he didn’t expect to be asked that, and continued to avoid eye contact. After a few moments, the others still debating in the background, Virgil spoke again without looking up.

“Were friends right?” Virgil questioned hushedly. Dexter barely caught what he had said, but was surprised by the question.

“Do you see us as such?” Dexter asked, slightly hurt.

“No, I do!” Virgil said quickly, finally looking up at him, “I just thought that you didn’t think of me as much of a friend as the others.”

“Of course I don’t, what didn’t give you that idea?” Virgil only shrugged in response, not willing to talk any further. Dexter didn’t want to press further, or more so he didn’t know how to ask, so he let it go. The emo had always been the only other socially awkward friend in the group, Logan wasn’t awkward he was inept so he didn’t count, but Dexter always found comfort in that.

Did Virgil not feel the same way about him?

“Why’d you leave?” He suddenly spoke again staring at his phone, acting like he didn’t just ask a question. But he asked loud enough for the others to hear and stop their discussion.

All eyes turned to him when he didn’t reply, peering into him questioningly with their questioning questions. Dexter felt stumped on what to tell them without actively lying. He didn’t want to do that to them, but he also didn’t want to bother them with something so stupid.

“I’m not fine.” He said simply, wrapping the blankets tighter around him, trying to throw them off.

“That’s a lie.” Logan said in a terse manner. Dexter winched slightly, knowing he was caught lying so easily. He tried to hide from them in a cocoon of blankets, but Patton stopped him from doing so.

“Dexter.” That was the first time he’s ever use his full name. “What’s wrong?”

There is a reason that Virgil is afraid Dee left for good, but more on that later.

Hope y’all like the new chapter, love ya and see ya next time!

Tag List:

@noneed4thistbh @romanasanders @fuckingemoace @bunny222 @sea-blue-child @astraastro @helloitstimetofight @blue-wolfbane @applecannibal @ryuity @anxiouslyfred @i-identify-as-a-mango @shadowjag @scorching-scotch @cyberpunkjinx @im-so-infinitesimal

#sanders sides #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #prinxiety #platonic dlamp

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silverfootstepswrites · 6 years

Text

Butterfly [44]

summary The first steps are always the hardest.

“Shizune-sensei, your present was so thoughtful. But I’ve never even managed to cook decent rice before. It’s such a waste of all your nice notes,” lamented Sakura. Shizune and Kurenai sat at her desk with her. They laughed at her mournful tone.

“Don’t be like that. Anyone can learn. Heck, even Uchiha-sensei came make curry,” Kurenai pointed out.

“Only curry,” Shizune corrected.

“Only boxed curry,” added Itachi from across the room.

“You’re going to get scurvy, Uchiha-sensei,” scolded Shizune.

“There are vegetables in curry,” Sakura pointed out. Itachi nodded as Shizune let out a deep sigh.

Shikamaru, who had been nursing a can of coffee, slowly sat up straight. Asuma turned to give him a questioning look. Not seeing Shikamaru slouching was like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. Not unheard-of but a little odd.

Shikamaru held a finger up in front of his lips. His eyes pointed toward Sakura before flickering over to Itachi. Back to Sakura.

Asuma’s eyebrows rose. Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, he mouthed, ‘Really?’. Shikamaru said nothing. Asuma considered this, nodding several times as he settled back in his seat.

“Anyway, you’re worrying for nothing, Haruno-sensei. Everyone is horrible at cooking when they start,” replied Shizune.

“That’s true. I gave Dan-san food poisoning twice during our first year of marriage,” Tsunade spoke up.

“My older brother tried to wash chicken with soap when we were children,” Gaara offered.

“I burnt ramen once,” Kakashi sighed.

There was a brief pause as everyone stared at Kakashi. He stared back at them. Unashamed.

“See? We all have to start somewhere. You didn’t just start knowing how to do calculus, right? You started with basic arithmetic, right?” Shizune explained.

“Math is evil. Don’t bring it into this conversation,” muttered Shikamaru, almost under his breath. He didn’t manage to dodge in time to avoid Kurenai smacking his knee with her notebook.

The day after Christmas, Sakura had gone to the post office. She retrieved a sizable stack of envelopes and parcels. There were even packages sent from overseas. She ran into Naruto on her way home. He helped her carry everything into her house, insisting that he take the heavier half.

“I’m a man. That’s what men do,” Naruto bragged, flexing his right arm.

Sakura glanced at him, trying not to laugh at him. “Oh, is that what men do?” she asked.

And Naruto gave a sheepish laugh of his own, scratching the back of his head as they stepped into her house. “Well, according to my old man. That and make bad jokes, apparently.”

Naruto helped her deposit everything in the corner of the kitchen. The packages sat untouched for a few days in the corner of the kitchen. Not because she wasn’t excited to open them. It was actually because she wanted to have time to read every message, to appreciate every little thing.

When the weekend came, Sakura sat on the kitchen floor and began opening up all the envelopes. There were the usual drawings and signs with her name on them. Some were accompanied by letters. Others just had a name and a location. Sakura posted each of these to her Instagram story, tagging people when she could.

Inside was a paper plate that had been colored gold with marker. There was a hole punched into either side of the plate. Someone had threaded red and blue yarn through the holes. The accompanying message was written in green marker:

You only have 6 gold medals from Worlds, but to me, you won 7 times.

Another message asked her if she was doing well. Whether she had been getting enough rest.

I’m still very sad that you won’t be competing anymore. But I’m glad you’re finally taking some time off, it concluded.

Another person wrote, Seeing you smile at the Grand Prix was so amazing. I hope you’re happy, whatever you’re doing now.

Of course, there were many more that pleaded for her to return. Begged her to come back, even.

The kindnesses that poured out in every single message overwhelmed her. She had never gotten used to reading stuff like this. Even after all these years. Just to know that someone, somewhere, was thinking of her like this. Who loved her so much without having ever met her. Who rooted for her even when she had run away from everything like a coward.

Tears welled up. Spilling. Clutching the letters to her chest, she began to sob. Chest heaving, clogged up with all the emotions that had built up since the Olympics. Since everything had turned a little sharp around the edges.

Itachi knocked on the door. He had felt uncomfortable just walking through the gate. Kiba and Shikamaru had assured him multiple times that it was fine just to shout. But that seemed to go against everything his mother had taught him.

Knocking again, he shifted his weight to his other foot. He glanced down at the furoshiki-wrapped box in his hand. The cloth was yellow with a blue or purple flower design. He had a lot of trouble discerning between the two colors. Asuma had dropped it off earlier that morning with the excuse that his wife had made too much. When Itachi had opened it, he had found the box overflowing with toriten. Strips of chicken deep fried in tempura batter. His mouth began to water just looking into the box.

“This is too much for me too, Sarutobi-sensei,” Itachi protested.

Asuma had shrugged. “Find a friend to share it with?” he had suggested before walking off.

Itachi had messaged the group chat. Kiba and Shikamaru had agreed to meet up at Sakura’s. Even though she herself hadn’t read any of the messages.

“Uh.... Haruno-san?” he called, knocking again.

Itachi jolted when the window of the house next door rolled open. An old woman hung out, squinting at him.

“She went to the rink!” the woman called.

“Oh. Thank you, Chiyo-san,” Itachi replied.

Chiyo grunted before her head slipped back inside. The window sliding shut. That didn’t bother Itachi, though. Old woman Chiyo was notoriously grumpy. The only person she ever spoke to was Sakura, who mentioned that she helped the old woman weed her garden or change her lightbulbs when she needed it.

Itachi walked to the rink. He tried calling Sakura on the way, who didn’t pick up.

Kushina greeted him at the counter of the ice rink. Her eyes darted in the direction of the door before flickering back to him.

“Um...I.... I don’t know if I want to let you in there right now, Sensei,” she told him.

Itachi blinked. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

Kushina blinked right back. And then she laughed. He could see where her son had inherited that full-bellied laugh from. She waved her hand at him as she replied, “Oh no! No no no. It’s not you.... it’s just...”

The laughter faded as she looked back toward the doors leading to the rink. Kushina put her hand on her cheek.

“....Well... Sakura-chan came in crying. I... think she wants to be alone?” Kushina told him.

“Oh. Well. I’ll ask her. And if she wants me to leave, I will,” replied Itachi.

Kushina blinked several more times. As if that idea hadn’t even occurred to her. She said nothing as Itachi stepped out of the lobby, into the room next door.

Music played from the speakers. Some kind of house music, playing so low that it was hard to make out the voices. Sakura lifted her chin when she heard the doors open and close. She sniffed. Her whole face felt heavy and swollen after the good she had had. She wiped her eyes with her wrists, letting her blades guide her in a meandering path

Sakura spotted Itachi walk up to the rink. He didn’t rest his elbows up on the sides. He just stood there.

Sakura did another lazy loop on the ice before she glided over to greet him.

“Hi,” Itachi greeted her. His smile was tiny, almost like he wasn’t sure whether it was allowed.

Sakura sniffed again before she smiled as best as she could. “Hi.”

“I stopped by your place but you weren’t there,” he told her.

“Oh.”

Sakura noticed that he was holding onto some kind of container.

“...Do you want me to leave?” Itachi inquired.

She looked back up at his face. Thinking it over for a second, she shook her head.

“Would you feel better if you talked about it?” he then asked.

She gave another wobbly smile at that. “Probably. But I don’t really want to,” she answered.

“That’s fine,” Itachi replied. He looked around the rink. It was empty. Not even Naruto was sitting in the stands with his homework.

“Do you mind if I stick around for a while?” He didn’t add that it was because he didn’t feel good leaving her alone. Sakura looked him over for a long moment. And then she shrugged.

Itachi sat on the bleachers, glad that he was wearing such a warm jacket. It was much colder in here than it was outside. He marveled at how Sakura could run around in a sleeveless shirt and look completely fine. In fact, she wiped sweat from the back of her neck as she moved past.

The song changed. Sakura made a face. She shuffled through a few tracks until she settled on one.

Itachi was no expert on skating. He had understood growing up that it was a sport that his mother loved. And he had known that it required a tremendous amount of athleticism. But watching Sakura up close, he began to understand why his mother was so obsessed. It was a particular blend of grace and power. Combined with the fact that this was all accomplished balancing on a metal blade made it all the more impressive.

“I saw you once. When I was a university student,” Itachi suddenly told her. The words spilled out, almost accidentally.

Sakura’s head turned in his direction.

“On TV?” she asked. His chin was in his hand as he watched her.

“In Sendai. I saw you practicing once. I met your coach and he brought me to watch you,” explained Itachi. Sakura’s eyebrows rose. She slowed.

“I thought you went to school in Tokyo. What were you doing in Sendai?” she demanded.

To her surprise, the smile melted off his face. Itachi clasped his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. She drew closer and closer. Until she stood at the edge of the rink, hands gripping the top of the barrier.

“I told you that I studied scenography,” he said. Sakura nodded.

“Uh, well, I was top of my class. I was really well-known for my backgrounds. Especially if they were painted. I grew up hearing that I might even be a genius,” Itachi explained. Sakura’s eyes were glued to him now.

“And... during my junior year, I got into an accident. And I became partially colorblind.”

A gasp slipped out of Sakura. Her hand rose to cover her mouth. Itachi wasn’t looking at her now. He looked down at his feet.

“I couldn’t create anything. I mean, how could I? It all looked.... wrong,” he went on. The past came back to him in waves now. It surprised him how easily it returned.

“I became very depressed. I took a break from school. All I did was go to work and drink. Mostly drink, honestly. And then, after about a year, a senpai from school made me visit him in Sendai. We ran into your coach by accident there and he ended up bringing us to watch you. He gave me some good advice.”

“What was the advice?” Sakura’s voice came out in a whisper.

Itachi finally looked up at her. He was smiling again.

“That life goes on. Even if you can’t do the thing that you love most. Some little girl might write you a letter asking you to be her coach. And she might go on to win an Olympics gold medal,” he answered her.

She turned away from him. So he wouldn’t see the fresh tears gathering in her eyes. She didn’t care that he could hear her sniffling. He didn’t say anything about either.

It was nearly an hour before Sakura felt ready to get off the ice. She wiped the snow from her blade and then slipped the flexible guards onto them. As she sat on a bench to unknot her laces, Itachi hopped of the bleachers to join her.

“I quit skating because I’m getting old,” she said in such a small voice that Itachi wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it. But then she glanced at him, meeting his eyes. So he sat down next to her. She resumed loosening the laces on her boot.

“I know 27 might not seem old. But it’s really old for a skater. Especially a woman,” she explained. She finished with the left and moved on to the right.

“I’ve seen it over and over. The top skaters get old and they go from first to fifth in competitions. It’s so embarrassing to watch,” she went on. She yanked her boots off both feet. She took a moment to flex her toes.

“I just.... I didn’t want to go out that way. I didn’t want anyone to pity me. I wanted to be remembered as the best. It’s sort of cowardly, now that I think about it,” she trailed off into a mumble. She reached into her duffel bag to pull out her sneakers.

“That makes sense to me. Although, I don’t know how much my input matters,” Itachi offered. Sakura suddenly looked at him. She smiled.

“It matters,” she replied.

She held his gaze for a long moment. But before either of them could say anything, Sakura’s phone rang. The vibrations buzzed through the whole bench. She picked it up. Kiba’s face lit up the screen. She swiped her finger across the screen.

“Oi! I’ve been shouting outside your house forever. Open up!” he scolded her.

“...I’m not at my house, Inuzuka,” she told him.

“Sorry, Inuzuka-san. We ended up at the rink. We’ll be there soon,” Itachi called. Kiba sputtered something. And then there was rustling and crackling over the phone. Sakura and Itachi exchanged a look of confusion.

“Oi!” Kiba shouted.

“We’ll wait around. Hurry up before Inuzuka starts eating the grass,” Shikamaru said into the phone. They could hear Kiba grumbling in the background. But his voice was muffled, as if Shikamaru was holding him by the face.

New Years passed by so quickly that Sakura almost couldn’t believe that another year had gone by. Her mailbox was filled with cards from all around the world. Karin, Suigetsu, and Mangetsu sent her a photo of them posing in front of a lion statue. Haku and Kisame sent along a card too, wishing her a happy new year. She received more from people all around the world. Ino, Utakata, even some of the old friends she thought would have forgotten all about her.

New Years Eve was spent at the Sarutobi household. Mirai fell asleep long before midnight, as did Asuma. Snoring away on the couch with his daughter sprawled out on top of his belly. Neither of them woke as Sakura and Kurenai snapped photos of them with their phones. Even with their not-so-quiet giggling.

Shikamaru and Kiba spent the holiday with their respective families. Even Itachi took a train up to stay with his family for a few days. Sakura was glad that Kurenai and Asuma had invited her. Spending New Years alone in her house would have been the nightmare scenario. Although she had a suspicion that if the Sarutobi’s hadn’t taken her in, another family definitely would have. This was Konoha, after all.

When school resumed, Sakura couldn’t put her finger on it. But something felt different.

The same coworkers smiled at her during the morning meeting. The library had the same, papery, dusty smell. She ran her fingers over the mural of gingko leaves at the far end of the library as she walked past it. She checked her plants on the windowsill.

The answer didn’t come to her until halfway through the morning. When the library doors opened. Sakura sat on the ladder behind one of the bookshelves. The shelves blocked her line of sight to the door. So she waited until the footsteps drew closer.

Itachi looked up at her. His glasses rested on top of his head, tangled with his hair. He wore a navy blue shirt covered with a pattern of white paper airplanes. He had folded the sleeves twice, revealing his forearms.

“Working hard?” he asked.

“Sort of,” she replied.

And he smiled the way he always did. Only, she found it a little difficult to look him directly in the eyes when he did.

Clearing her throat, Sakura quickly finished reshelving the last book in her lap. As she turned and began climbing down, Itachi grasped the railing to steady the ladder. She brushed against his arm as she descended. It suddenly felt a little too warm in the library. Maybe the janitor had messed with the thermostat in the morning?

“I just came by to let you know that Shizune-sensei brought in cookies. You should grab them from the faculty room before they disappear,” Itachi informed her.

“Okay! Thank you,” she replied, straightening out the remaining books in the cart.

She was almost relieved when the bell rang. Itachi glanced down at his watch.

“Yikes. I have a class. I’ll see you later,” Itachi remarked. Sakura nodded at him without saying anything. All she could do was watch him as he strode across the library, her head tilting a little as she noticed the way his fingertips skimmed over one of the tables as he passed it. He slid the door shut behind him. Slowly, she could hear footsteps and students and teachers began moving in the hallway. The snippets of their conversation and laughter filtering in through the thin walls.

Sakura’s eyes widened as she finally realized why she recognized this feeling. A little nervous. A little floaty.

“Oh no,” she gasped.

“No no no no no,” she said over and over as she hit her head against the side of the ladder. She let out a groan as she rubbed her hands over her face.

“Not this shit again,” she sighed.

#itasaku #writing #butterfly

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teditonks-blog · 6 years

Text

TED TONKS. former healer, current mediwizard. chronic fixer. lover of baked goods. family man. bit of a slob. kinda tired. if there wasn’t a war, ted would be running a bakery and solving crossword puzzles all day.

PINTEREST.

PLAYLIST.

hello pals !! i’m liz and i also write bellatrix ( ted’s polar opposite™ ty ) !! thank u for coming to my ted talk ♥ it’s a bit long, but i’ve tried to highlight important bits with capital letters / bold letters and stuff so hopefully it should be easier to read!! also i won’t be offended if u don’t read everything obviously since i’ve written a mini essay about teddy : ~ ) ♥

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

bill weasley ( very chill, that ‘ i could kill you but i definitively won’t ‘ aesthetic, likable, would die for his wife, academic overachiever ), chidi anagonye ( kinda pretentious, likes riddles, overthinker, a little bit quiet ), terry jeffords ( family guy, probably digs yoghurt, strong and friendly, stays in his own lane ), nick burkhardt ( that ‘ i can’t believe you’ve done this ‘ vibe, moral compass pointing in the right direction most of the time, doesn’t see everything in black and white ), jackson avery ( values kindness, protective of what he loves, willing to fight for what he believes in, tired of stereotypes about his family background ), scott lang ( cheeky jokes when you least expect them, man of honor, would definitively hack a corporation and give back to the wronged workers if the opportunity presented itself ), merlin ( selflessness has no bounds, very smart, tongue in cheek humor, pokes fun at himself ), newt scamander ( can find good in anything, quiet, a little awkward, kind ), nick dunne ( there’s a line where the nice guy ends and something else begins, somehow manages to look like a teddy bear and an asshole at the same time, fiercely loyal until he’s not, pathological smiler ) and ray palmer ( smart, persistent, likes science ).

ANTHEMS:

gimme shelter - the rolling stones // bel air - the church // midnight rambler - the rolling stones // this must be the place ( naive melody ) - talking heads // close to me - the cure.

AESTHETIC / VIBE:

mick jagger during the late 60s, a quick wink in the corridor as he walks past, hands dug deep into washed out jeans, tears burning in your eyes as someone dies in your arms, the smell of vintage books, waking up screaming, blood splatter on your neck, always carrying medical supplies ( there’s always a fight, somewhere ), the smell of freshly baked cookies, a heart beating out a hummingbird’s melody, soft eyes slowly growing colder, muggle pens behind ears, rock and roll playing from old gramophones, never getting the blood out of your favorite shirt, raised eyebrows, faded hickeys and fake smiles to make someone feel better.

QUICK STATS:

name: edward ambrose tonks nicknames: ted, tedward, teddy occupation: mediwizard former house: ravenclaw date of birth: may 7th age: twenty six +: easy going, altruistic, sharp and kind. -: phlegmatic, guarded, detached and indulgent. wand: 13′’, unicorn hair, acacia wood. patronus: a brown bear.

BACKGROUND:

Ted grew up on Valentia Island, a small muggle town on Ireland. His father was a science teacher, and his mother a mathematician and researcher. He grew up on formulas and numbers and facts and science. Anything that he could make sense of, he found comforting. Like home.

[ Alcoholism tw:// ] Money was always an issue and they could just make ends meet, never any room for luxuries. Though that didn’t stop Ted’s father from finding himself looking down the barrel of a bottle a little bit too much. That also put a strain on the family, and the economics.

His mother, Eliana Tonks ( née McNamara ), mostly worked from home. She balanced her research career in maths ( trying to get published, applying for grants, doing the occasional guest lectures at schools ) with motherhood. She had two children from a previous marriage, both older than Ted. She was a caring mother, but also somewhat unstable, prone to mental breakdowns.

Ted also spent a considerable amount of time with Eliana’s mother, Dorothy McNamara —- and some of Ted’s fondest memories are from her farm, the scent of newly baked cinnamon rolls seemingly always hanging in the air.

Also helped out at her farm a lot and took care of her animals.

[ Alcoholism tw:// ] His father, Brian Tonks, the secondary school science teacher, was mostly just very tired. For years, he constantly worked overtime, took on extra work, barely ever saw his kids or his wife. Still couldn’t quite make ends meet. So he found comfort elsewhere, whiskey numbing his feelings, his soul, his thoughts.

Ted has four SIBLINGS — two older half brothers, and two younger sisters. Pretty early on, Ted took on a lot of responsibility regarding his siblings (really wanted to help his mom out, mostly), and spent countless hours playing with his sisters, taking them out on the ferry, trying to distract them from the problems at home. Ted is great with kids so !!!! That’s that!!!!

HOGWARTS YEARS:

The LETTER arrived with a peculiar man on a rainy Monday morning. It was explained to the Tonks family that their middle son, Edward, was a wizard. Brian got a good laugh out of that one. It would take a couple of weeks ( and another few visits ) to convince him that this wasn’t a con. Brian was a man of science after all - and men like him did not believe in magic.

So Ted was shipped off to Hogwarts, and became a HATSTALL ( just for long enough that Ted was sure that the hat had changed his mind about him, send him right back to Ireland ). Stuck between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, the hat eventually settled on Ravenclaw.

Ted was SHAMELESSLY MUGGLEBORN, from the very start. Homework was written with a pencil, instead of ink, muggle bands could be heard playing from his dorm (mostly the Rolling Stones), his mother sent him issues of national geographic and new scientist, which he read over breakfast at the Ravenclaw table. REBELLING against the wizard norms was 100% Ted’s brand.

But also fully EMBRACED WIZARD CULTURE!!!! Was that kid who always asked questions, tried everything that he could and always craved more!!!

Had a FROG for the first three years at Hogwarts ( called Toad, we love being practical ), and then got a cat instead ( called Neptune ).

During the summers, Ted was enrolled in SUMMER SCHOOL, and took muggle classes.

His FAVORITE CLASS at Hogwarts was probably arithmancy, but he also excelled in charms, herbology and transfiguration.

Attempted to join the QUIDDITCH TEAM during his third year, but didn’t make it. Continued being an avid supporter instead.

While at Hogwarts, Ted was FAIRLY POPULAR. He was always taking care of the younger kids ( even though he was never made prefect ), could be seen wearing jeans and a tshirt on his off days, was quite charming, told cheeky jokes to make people around him smile and overall just gave zero shits about what people thought of him. He was also that big, muscular dude who at first glance, you’d totally expect to be a crude jock, but then he’s not, and instead walks you to your dorm, always the perfect gentleman. Ted was lowkey just everyone’s cool older brother.

Ted was mostly interested in LEARNING. He wanted to learn about everyone around him, about magic, about their history. Also studied his ass off, and was at the top of his class.

As a person, Ted was always KIND, a nice guy to his very core. But he was also COLD, somehow used to dulling his emotions, his senses, his heart ( he really is his father’s son, isn’t he? ). Instead focusing on other people - their hardship, their emotions, how can he help? He got used to always PUTTING HIMSELF LAST early on, already as a young child, so it was hardly any different at Hogwarts.

Definitively sneaked into the kitchen a couple times a week (and definitively found the house elf situation mortifying too, lbr).

Ted was of the conviction that if he tried hard enough - he could MAKE FRIENDS with anyone. Never met a stranger. Unfortunately that wasn’t quite the case, and he became the target of BULLIES during his first four years at the school. Ted always gave as good as he got though, quickly finding where his kindness ended - and where something darker began.

Had a pretty CAREFREE HOGWARTS EXPERIENCE, overall though? Mostly stayed in his own lane, studied a lot, went to parties, probably read every book in the library. Made a lot of friends but also some enemies.

AFTER HOGWARTS / PERSONALITY:

Ted graduated with top marks, but had no further great ambitions beyond that. The dream was to open up a BAKERY, run it for a few years, and then move on to the next big thing. He’s a firm believer in that there is a certain science to the perfect cake - that it takes more than a recipe. He’s also a firm believer in getting to know people, and what better way to do that than over cake, right?

Unfortunately, the war looming on the horizon pulled him in another direction. So after Hogwarts, he studied to become a healer, a work that although meaningful, never really excited him. So he worked at St Mungos for a couple of years, and did what he had always done. Stitched people up, put them back together. Completely detached from what he was doing, everything just felt like PRETEND. He perfected his bedside manner, a false smile always resting on his lips. He pretended not to notice when someone’s dark mark slipped. Everyone’s the same, to Ted, when he’s working. He doesn’t differentiate between the sinners and the saints, the good and the bad.

After two years at St Mungos, he had a sudden change of heart, and made a swift career change. Hospital was changed in for the battle field as he became a MEDIWIZARD.

And suddenly, he found himself in the center of the storm. Quickly patching people up, dodging spells, finding body parts. Somehow he finds himself always covered in someone’s blood. Sometimes it’s his own.

10000% uses muggle techniques out in the field too! If it works, why shouldn’t he?

He only works in the medical field because of NECESSITY. He has no great aspirations to become a high level healer, and the job itself doesn’t draw him in. Though being in the field gets his heart racing, it’s not something he particularly enjoys and he mostly just does it because he wants to HELP. Can’t stand seeing all this mayhem, all this pain. It’s in his very nature to want to pick up the pieces, it doesn’t matter who it is. Ted grew up in an environment where he was the constant fixer of things, the glue that kept the family together, the little diplomat. That never changed.

What did change however was his DRIVE! Over the years, Ted has grown more and more DETACHED from what he does, what he sees. It’s incredibly hard to stay gentle in the society he lives in ( where a large group of people want to see him dead ), so Ted has grown more and more closed off. His heart is still made of gold, but he’s detaching himself from it. Coldness seeping into his bones, his blood. He hasn’t realized it himself, but he stopped properly caring a long time ago. He’s so tired.

LISTEN! These days, the only thing that Ted really, really cares about is his family!! Can you blame him? People want to kill him for who he is and meanwhile all he’s trying to do is save people :/// damn it :///

OKAY SO - let’s talk about THE ORDER!!! Ted helps out, when he can. But he doesn’t directly involve himself in their business, because 1) he suspects that some of his wife’s family members are death eaters, and he doesn’t want to do that to her / to have to fight his extended family. 2) Ted is definitively not a fighter - he’s the fixer, the healer, the guy you go to when you have a problem you can’t quite figure out on your own.

Aligning himself with a side thus doesn’t feel quite right to him, since he’s out in the field, trying to remain objective, trying to help people on both sides. Not saying it isn’t a challenge, but homeboy is trying!

SO ----- Ted is a big old SOFTIE with a heart of gold. He embodies kindness down to his very core, and there usually isn’t a mean bone in his body. His name suits him well --- Ted is a teddy bear.

Ted is also incredibly TIRED. Years of working right in the middle of the war has taken its toll on him, and he’s getting fed up with all of it, tbh. Not that he’d ever say so.

At this point though, Ted is starting to become more and more RESERVED, because as a medic, he has seen the things people do to each other, the things they are capable of. It makes him sick, and he’s growing increasingly detached from the people around him because of it.

Though guarded, Ted is pretty OUTGOING still! He just doesn’t let anyone (except for his wife!!!!) too close, anymore. Prefers to keep everyone at a distance. Ted has buried a lot of his friends and he’s getting pretty tired of that too. :/

Ted is so nice that he can be sort of INDULGENT? Lets people get away with a lot, and is overly permissive / forgiving & lenient at a great personal cost.

Also very SELF SACRIFICING. Puts EVERYONE before himself, always. It’s a problem.

Total OVERANALYZER and occasional overthinker. Typical Ravenclaw.

But also very easy going - literally the most chill guy ever. For better or for worse.

Try getting a rise out of this man!!!! You can’t!!! You could literally spit in his face and he’d just wipe it off and continue on with what he was doing. He does not give a single fuck - his skin is made of steel.

Tip: insult his wife / daughter and he might crack!!!

Can be incredibly APATHETIC!! Every now and then, the light in his eyes goes out, flickers and fades, and his usually SOFT HEART grows cold.

With that said, you wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Ted’s hatred. It’s very rare, but absolutely SEETHING. Ted’s a patient guy. He can wait until the moment is right to strike back, ya feel.

Ted is sort of OBSESSIVE. Especially with the idea of fixing things ---- putting things back together. It stems from his childhood ( which I talked about earlier ). He’s a problem solver, a chronic fixer, a helper. He doesn’t know any other way to be, so he physically can’t stop himself from getting involved.

In Ted’s mind, there is ALWAYS a solution. ALWAYS. Hence why he is taking this war so hard. He can’t solve a whole war, but he’s having a hard time coming to terms with that. Unfortunately, logic and reason can’t fix this. SUCKS.

[ PTSD tw:// ] Ted is slowly developing PTSD. He is ALWAYS there for the worst parts of the war and its aftermath. He has seen so much. So the nightmares never stop - at this point, they continue when he wakes up too.

In chaotic / dangerous situations, Ted just SHUTS DOWN. Acts on auto pilot. Becomes incredibly stoic, calm, lifeless. Phlegmatic to a fault.

Currently, Ted is mostly just done. #over this war!!

OTHER STUFF:

Definitively a vegetarian!!

Favorite color is green.

LOVES cooking and is lowkey an experimental chef? Likes seeing what happens when he adds stuff together.

But leans more towards baking!!! He’s still chasing that perfect cake. There’s a chemical reaction out there, somewhere, that he WILL find. Give him time!

Very Dad!! Loves Dora SO much. Wants to change the world for her.

Quietly teaching Dora math and science at home. Also slowly introducing her to muggle history and muggle technology and muggle music. It’s important to Ted that Dora knows where she comes from. That there is nothing wrong with who she is ( who they are ).

On that note, Ted cares so much about math and science! He loves anything that just makes sense. To this day, Ted will still read science books and magazines.

LOVES animals and is so good with them too, which he learned when he worked his grandmother’s muggle farm as a teenager !!

Would... adopt ten dogs and five cows if he could.... someone hook this man up....

Doesn’t drink alcohol... yet. Doesn’t want to turn into his dad. I may do something with that later.

Wears a lot of washed out jeans and rolling stones shirts.

#yb:intro

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deer5hunting-blog · 5 years

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Deer Hunting Tips

It's that season when outdoorsmen feel a specific jazzed aching that they don't feel during the sweltering summer months. They can feel it going ahead more grounded like a reviving and can smell it in the fresh spotless fall air. It's a feeling like no other. Like a profoundly planted seed established totally into your spirit. Also, when this inclination comes around. The major event deer hunting season has arrived!

With an honest energy you realize it's presently time to residue off your hunting gear. Hone you hunting blades, oil down your deer hunting rifle; test your tree climbing hardware and stock up on hunting supplies, for example, hunting garments, deer fragrances and possibly another snort call. Yet, before the opening day of the hunting season arrives and it's an ideal opportunity to do the important pre hunting ceremonies that all great experienced trackers consistently do each year, for example, exploring for deer sign, searching for tracks, scratches, rubs and sparse. Finding a decent climbing tree stand or ground dazzle arrangement can in some cases crease troublesome and out and out startling. You need that ideal spot were you realize you will consistently observe the game that you are seeking after. Furthermore, you need to have the option to take the right activities when the defining moment lands to sack that immense deer of a lifetime. So here are some Incomparable Deer Hunting Tips that can enable you to take that enormous buck that you have constantly longed for.

Before we start I might want to disclose to you a story. An anecdote about myself and why I have composed this article. As a little fellow I was normally pulled in to nature. My dad was truly not an outdoorsman. We went angling now and again however never went hunting. As I got more seasoned a companion of mine, Bounce welcomed me alongside him on a deer chase. I adored it and I was from that day on, snared forever! I continued to buy my first deer hunting riffle, a 30.06 Remington. We chased each and every year and he would consistently gather a deer. Typically a spike or a four pointer, yet I had greater plans.

I needed to get those huge eight pointers with the decent overwhelming racks. I continued to test each area in each circumstance I could discover. I read and expended each deer magazines known to man like a crazy person. Sway would consistently say, "For what reason do peruse those things? You won't most likely get enormous dear like in those magazines"! He couldn't have been all the more off-base. He would not take pointers from any of my books or magazines. Try not to misunderstand me, my companion Bounce showed me a great deal of the rudiments and great strategies. He was an excellent instructor, however sooner or later I started to show signs of improvement bucks than the educator.

As I read every one of the magazines and books and I would adapt new thoughts and procedures. Bounce would chase the open woods and I would chase the thicker stuff. I began to take more pleasant and bigger bucks every year. What's more, Sway, Well... allows simply state, he has an entire carport loaded with spikes and four pointers on the dividers.

Presently despite the fact that I took in a great deal from those hunting magazines. They never truly helped me with some basic things. Stratagies that I needed to and had learned in the field. Like detecting that ideal spot to place a sub any hunting area. Or on the other hand the ideal method to recognize a deer and take the shot while never losing the game. Let's be honest, on the off chance that you can't locate the ideal spot to chase from, you will never observe deer, see enough deer or get reliably close enough to take deer when you're hunting. Furthermore, on the off chance that you don't have the foggiest idea about the right method to spot, react and shoot the deer, you are not going to have that enormous rack on your divider or venison in the cooler.

I've needed to discover that the most difficult way possible. By long stretches of experimentation. I have chosen to put the best guidance I have learned out of each one of those years, brake them down into a couple of basic tips and give them here. They may not appear to be much superficially. However, they might be probably the best tips you may ever discover.

Deer Hunting Tips for Ground Visually impaired and Deer Stand Arrangement

The most effective method to Chase Deer: Stand or Ground Dazzle Arrangement

I locate that the vast majority of my companions like to put there stand right smack in the center of a pleasant clear woodlot were they can see far and wide. Be that as it may, I oppose this idea. I reliably sack enormous bucks where there is some thick brush, a winding congested stream or swampy land flanking a pleasant woodlot. Put your deer stand or ground visually impaired confronting the open woods with your back to the brush. Make sure to wear some great quality waterproof hunting boots in the event that you are hunting in or almost a swampy territory or marsh. Old truckloads of money keep away from trackers, live more and are greater in light of the fact that they are savvy and wary. They will in general remain in or pursue the thicker brush or bog line previously, if by any stretch of the imagination, going out to the open woods to bolster. On the off chance that you are in the open woods, they may get wind of you or spot you before you find the opportunity to see them first. By hunting outskirts of brush or swampy regions you find the opportunity of spotting him sneaking through or along the line before he can identify threat or review the open woods.

Attempt to chase in a bottleneck. There are a wide range of sorts of bottlenecks that you could possibly have taken note. They are all over the place, you simply need to look cautiously and they will end up clear to you. Here are a few models. An extended length of thicker brush between two woodlots. A little stream or creek that breezes between two marshes, enormous lakes or through the focal point of open woods. A little remain of cedar trees or pines in a woodlot. Or then again something clear like a pleasant stretch of woods between two fields (extraordinary for bow hunting).

Chase Seats. Seats are an impression between two high ground levels. Deer will in general venture out these seats to stay covered up and subtle. A few models are low ground between two edges. A little space or the absolute bottom in an edge. Or on the other hand something as basic as a little chasm on level grounds.

Sitting above Little Streams. This is one of my preferred spots to chase. Deer love to stroll along or cross little streams. The vegetation is normally marginally thicker, more delicious and bounteous to the deer since the water gives the plants more supplements. On the off chance that you are major game hunting in the upper states were it might be colder during the initial couple of long stretches of deer hunting season you can hear the white-followed deer cross the stream as the meager ice breaks under there hooves. It seems like a breaking fortified glass window in a little very library. You can hear it a mile away.

Deer Hunting Tips For Taking the Shot and Spotting Deer

The most effective method to Chase Deer: Spotting Deer and Taking the Shot

Continuously keep your ears open or revealed however much as could be expected. More often than not I will hear the deer before I can even observe them.

Search for development of the deer rather than the entire deer itself. Or maybe then glassing the whole woods in one moderate breadth it best to gaze at a particular objective for a moment or two, for example, a log, a branch, a stick or a stone. At that point immediately continue to the following objective, etc until you have filtered the whole line of the forested areas. At that point continue back. In the event that there is down present you will spot there development from your fringe vision. Very, jerky yet quick (with significant lots between interims) with insignificant development on your part is in every case better (have you seen that all wary and wild creatures do this?). With this procedure, I generally observe the gleam of an ear, tail or foot some time before I really can see the entire deer or spot one by gradually glassing.

#Deer hunting

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