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jollyinha · 10 days

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50 (+3) Facts About My Rook Listener (aka Félix)!

Because I love him in a hiperfocus kind of way 😭💙 If you want to see how he looks like, go to my yuurivoice tag, and you will find all my listeners! Although I probably should make an updated version, he has gotten a 2.0 version ever since... Also, tagging @itsargyle since they suggested taking other YV fans! I'm... Too shy to tag anyone else tho lmao

Anyway, here goes my big infodump on my favorite sunshine boy:

1 - Hey, I'm Félix Torres... Or not, because that's my middle name, and my actual name is Victor. But I'm not that fond of Victor, so I go by Félix!

2 - Victor was my mom's grandpa's name, and Félix is a tribute to my dad, whose name was Feliciano.

3 - Thanks to the acute accent, the correct pronunciation of Félix would be "feh-liks", not "fee-liks". Oh, and the "c" in Victor is mute. It's Vitor. But sometimes even I forget that it isn't supposed to be spelled like the gringos do, haha!

4 - My mom is Brazilian and my dad was Colombian. I was born in Brazil (Aracaju in Sergipe, to be more specific), but have been living in the USA for most of my life now. I used to spend the holidays in Colombia as a kid, but haven't been there ever since dad passed away... I really should pay it a visit again soon, though. It's a real nice country.

5 - I speak native Portuguese, fluent English and intermediary Spanish. I've been studying ASL (as of right now I just know basic stuff like "hi", "how are you?", how to introduce myself... But hey, at least I know the whole alphabet off the top of my head!) and French too, but it has been hard to find some free time... And when I do have it, I always end up drawing, crafting, cooking... Duolingo's owl wants to eat my ass.

6 - Speaking of which, these are my favorite hobbies! Drawing and painting are main passions in life, though. I've been in love with art as far as I can remember. I was in a few-years-long hiatus when it came to painting, only came back to it recently, but have been drawing non-stop ever since I was a little boy!

7 - When it comes to crafting, I enjoy many aspects of it... I've been really into papercraft these days. Origami, paper dolls, collages... But I also really like jewelry making and fabric painting (even if I find it so damn hard, haha!). I just love personalizing things in general. Sometimes, I see a piece of furniture, have an idea and just have to put my personal touch.

8 - I also know how to sew, but I can't say that I'm a big fan. I've tried crochet once, per example, and almost fell asleep on the couch. It's just a bit boring to me... But I'll gladly sew back a button or fix a hole if you ask nicely!

9 - And, last but not least, I love cooking! Not as much as I love to eat, but anyway. I picked up cooking as a way to deal with my pyrophobia and to bond with my uncle (he owns a restaurant!), and really took a liking to it... And modesty aside, I'm damn good at it!

10 - Speaking of which... I'm a bit of a bottomless pit when it comes to food! I'll eat (mostly) anything, am willing to try (mostly) everything and am hungry 24/7. Please, feed me.

11 - My favorite food is kind of specific, but: I love Thanksgiving pies. And breakfast foods. But anything that's chicken or has corn is also very damn good.

12 - I don't really like fruits. Most of them feel either bland (apples taste like NOTHING!) or straight up gross. I hate, HATE peach. Mango, guaba and pineapple too. Disgusting. I'm team vegetables all the way. Lemon and watermelon are the only ones that get a pass.

13 - My favorite ice cream favorite is chocomint!

14 - When it comes to drinks... I like coffee, as long as it has milk and unholy amounts of sugar (hate bitter coffee, as contradictory as it is). And while I'm not too big on alcoholic drinks, I like champagne.

15 - I also like biking, but, much like studying ASL and French, I don't have enough free time nowadays to really get into it again... But I try to bike every weekend I can!

16 - As a kid, I was in singing classes! I really enjoyed it and was pretty decent at it, but nowadays I do it just for fun. Love singing and listening to music around the house while doing other things.

17 - I have eight tattoos on total: Flower sleeves on both arms (featuring a clock among the flowers on the left arm and a bird on the right), music player symbols on the left side of my chest, "keep going" on the right side, an anchor on my upper back, a sun and a crescent moon on my lower back, a sea monster's tentacles going through my right hip and a paper plane on my left ankle!

18 - I also have a bunch of moles. On my face, on my back and on my chest. I used to be embarrassed by them, but nowadays, not nearly as much.

19 - I have been dyeing my hair blonde ever since college. I'm actually a brunette! I like being a blondie, but I'm considering going back to my roots... My hair is screaming for help. [He goes back to being a brunette and lets his hair grow after the events of Escape]

20 - Oh yeah, speaking of college... I have a Law degree. And am working on this field. Ya-hoo... Unfortunately, I needed a more lucrative career to support my family. But my long-term life goal is to be able to quit and live from art! And I like to believe I'm almost there.

21 - I pierced my ears in college too! I usually only wear my lucky sun earrings, but if I'm feeling fancy, I can go with a larger one.

22 - I considered becoming an English major for a while, but didn't happen either.

23 - I have a weird love for plaid jackets (of any color, but especially blue ones) and grungy bracelets. If you wanna give me anything that's wearable, going with either of these is the safest bet! Can't ever have enough of these!

24 - My favorite animals are octopuses (I had an obsession with sea monsters as a kid and this love never really died) and peacocks (they're just awesome)!

25 - My lucky number is sixteen, because my birthday is on February 16th, and because if you put "Félix Victor" together, there's a sixteen in Roman numerals right in the middle: XVI!

26 - Also, I'm 30 as of 2024, and... It's terrifying, to be honest. Buuut I'll find comfort on the fact that I look like I'm 20, hehe.

27 - This one will be hard to explain, but... I really like the sun. From summer to sunflowers to sun imageries... I like the sun. And all because of my dad. It's a long history, but yeah.

28 - I have a younger sister, her name is Alice! She's in college right now, she's History major! And... She's my pride and joy.

29 - And I also have five younger cousins: Ariel, Rafael, Leon, Joyce and Mercedes! I love them all, they're like my siblings. [Joyce is actually my Sunflower listener!]

30 - I... Have a... Weird relationship with my mom. It has been getting worse these last few years... Ah, nevermind, I shouldn't have brought this up.

31 - I had three relationships in my life... Well, three and a half, if you count that high school fling, but I digress: My first boyfriend lasted, like, half a year of my freshman year in college. It was nice, we just realized quickly that neither of us were serious. And my second boyfriend... Ergh. Tristan. We began dating in my junior year, and had a pretty messy break-up right after my graduation...

32 - ...But, nearly a whole decade after that, he sent me a DM on Instagram asking me how I was, and I mistakenly thought he became a decent human being. Hell, he was the one who got me my current job. He works in the Marketing department and was kind enough to tell me that Legal was hiring. I thought that we could at least be friends again, but... He's still a pain in the ass, at the end of the day. And still wants me back. ERGH...

33 - ...But, actually, I should thank him for that. Ironically, by trying to get back with me, he got me my third and current boyfriend... And... I won't talk too much about our relationship, but... This is the happiest I've ever been with someone. I mean it.

34 - Ok, how do I say this? I... Have been told that I... Have a pretty high libido. Or, if you want to be meaner, I'm a horny bastard. I... Will not elaborate if that's true or not. [It Is Literally Canonical]

35 - But even if I WAS a horny bastard, I'm a romantic at heart, believe it or not! I like being swept off my feet! I like flowers! I like cheesy pick-up lines! I like cuddles, god, I really like cuddles... Anyway.

36 - I'm a petite lil' guy. I'm 1m69cm tall... Or 5'8ft.

37 - I have ADHD. I was diagnosed when I was 20. I've been taking meds to help with my lack of focus, and it really has been helping.

38 - I also have insomnia. It isn't as bad as it was a few years ago, but it still sucks.

39 - My favorite song of all time is "Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)" by Foster The People!

40 - My favorite movie of all time... It's a tie between Footloose and Burlesque.

41 - My favorite animated movie of all time is Ponyo!

42 - My MBTI is ENFP, my Enneagram is 2w3, and I'm an Aquarius!

43 - In my opinion, my biggest strengths as a person are that I'm pretty charming, I can get along with nearly any kind of person (given enough time), and that I'm notoriously hard to piss off. As long as you're not messing with my loved ones, it takes A LOT to make me actually angry.

44 - And my weaknesses... Well, I let people get away with stepping all over me pretty frequently... And I'm very restless. And I don't mean only physically, I mean like... Mentally. I feel like I'm a shark: If I stop moving, I'll die, y’know? Oh, I've been told that I can be pretty shameless and a bit nosy... And, welp. I... Can't really deny that.

45 - I hate the cold. I hate winter. I hate snow. Fuck you, northern hemisphere.

46 - I really like sitting on the floor, ever since I was a little boy. It just... Grounds me. No pun intended.

47 - My favorite color is blue, but yellow and orange are also lovely... And I've been getting real fond of red these days. Hehe (Can't believe that it took me this long to say my favorite color, we're on fact 47th...).

48 - I'm a dog person! I never got to have one, though...

49 - I, not-so-secretly, really like cute things. I may or may not have a big octopus plushie on my bed. And may or may not love Pompompurin and Gudetama.

50 - I'm overall pretty confident on my looks... Except for my smile and my laugh. My ex-boyfriend (Tristan) once said that my smile is wide enough to be scary, and my mom said that my laugh is too loud, and I've been restraining myself from truly smiling and laughing out loud in public ever since. But I tend to let go when near people I trust.

51 (bonus!) - I have a very sensitive neck... Now, if I see it as a good thing or a bad thing... Depends on what your intentions are... If you know what I mean.

52 (bonus!)² - I'm also pretty great at typing. My words per minute game is insane, modesty aside.

53 (bonus!)³ - I... Can be a little bit jealous when I'm dating someone. I was never a pain in the ass about it, I mostly just sulk in silence, but... Yeah. It's my toxic trait.

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice listener #yuurivoice auron #auron yuurivouce #yuurivoice rook #felix (rookie)

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kedreeva · 1 year

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did you read the CNBC article "Egg prices rose 60% in 2022. One farm griup claims it's a 'collusive scheme' by suppliers"? Given how knowledgeable you are about your own birds, I'm interested to hear your thoughts! I particularly found it weird in the inflation numbers comparison where eggs went up by 59.9% in December while the "poultry" category only went up by 12.2%. Doesn't that seem counter-intuitive since it takes much longer to raise meat vs eggs even with the flu? I'm not trying to grill you at all I just like your blog and would like to see your thoughts on it :)

I have no idea why you think eggs take a shorter time, but meat birds are ready for butcher at 6-8 weeks old, and egg birds are a minimum of like 4 months, if not 6-10 depending on breed.

Don't listen to people (general) on farm groups. I'm in several, and day in and day out I see some real hot takes on stuff and a lot of people who either don't know what they're doing or are doing stuff that's like, actively harmful. The people that know what they're talking about burn out trying to argue with the people that are Very Convinced that they're right as they say the most wrong things. I'm locked in combat to the death in one group over the people there using the phrase "fertile but not fertilized" to describe an infertile/unfertilized egg. There's literally no such thing as "fertile but unfertilized." An egg is infertile or fertile, or it's unfertilized or fertilized. But by golly you cannot convince them this is the case, even directing them to google to check for themselves. I've seen med recs for overdoses and underdoses. I had one lady tell me she poured some injectable meds under her bird's wing, and flat out refuse to give more via injection or buy the pour-on version because didn't "want to overdose him." MA'AM you didn't DOSE him!!! What you did was the equivalent of pouring cough syrup on your hand. I chased my own tail for WEEKS with a lady that INSISTED 12 accidental fires in a single year, across all the farms in the US (you know, the 2.5 million farms in the US), meant that there was a government conspiracy to cause a food shortage, and that's why she kept chickens. You might be able to find A Person on those groups that knows anything correct, but the groups at large are often not great for anything other than sharing cute pics and finding homes for excess birds.

Now don't get me wrong, if a company CAN charge a little more for something and get away with it, they're probably gonna try, and I'm sure that some of that is involved, in some places more heavily than others. But also we lost almost 58 MILLION chickens, a lot of them egg layers, to HPAI last year, from around march to june (like, for reference, the US has about 300 million egg-type production birds, across ages). There's also a higher cost in fuel, and likely an unwillingness to hire people who have standards about how they're treated factoring in. Given the processing/shipping/distribution time and the requirements (including the cost of materials, testing, cleaning, disposal etc) of sanitizing land and having to let it sit for a period before being able to resume production, that lag and then sept-dec 2022 zone was exactly where I expected the price rise to happen, and at least from what I've seen, it's already coming back down (from $6 to $4 around me anyway) as those lost facilities have reached laying ages. I expect it will keep going down, provided HPAI doesn't devastate the industry again this year.

If you want a visual representation of what the fuck happened last year, here's from the USDA:

So no, I don't think it's weird and also I don't think it's a conspiracy. Shit just happens sometimes, and instead of taking the hit to their profit, they took it out of egg prices because they had an excuse to raise them to cover costs and possibly make extra while people were tolerant. That's not really a conspiracy in my book, it's just capitalizing on a thing that happened. you know. like capitalists.

#chickens #animal death for ts #anon asks #asks #hpai #eggs #wank for ts #collusion gives them a lot of credit where I really don't think it's due #they're just being shitty morals capitalists #we had this same rigamarole the year corn prices rocketed #and it was because fields all got slogged by way too much rain #huge amounts of harvest were spoiled #rotted away from the overwater #it wasn't a conspiracy then either #doesn't mean it's not shitty #and doesn't mean it's RIGHT #but they didn't get together and go #let's all agree to raise the price for fun and profit #it's just a bad thing happened and cost money #and a lot of people along the way decided they could exploit it individually #because there was an obvious cause consumers could reason about #also before anyone else sends asks about this #I'm not getting into this in WIP Wednesday #today is writing day

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pesterloglog · 4 months

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Dave Strider, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 7748-7756

DAVE: ok actually maybe i will get into it

DAVE: i dunno why my friends got to have adults around who cared about them

DAVE: they complained bitterly about stuff so i guess i convinced myself they were all in the same boat as me

DAVE: but thats not how it was

DAVE: their complaints were trumped up nonsense and i bought it cause... i dunno

DAVE: i didnt have any frame of reference

DAVE: but his dad and her mom no matter what they said it was so obvious they cared about them deeply

DAVE: even jades weird fuckin grandpa who died when she was young obviously would have done anything for her

DAVE: why did i get such a raw cut of the asshole deck

DAVE: and why did it take me so long to figure that out

DAVE: and like hes dead now so thats that

DAVE: so all thats left to do is look back and try to put the pieces together of my first 13 years

DAVE: and all i can think is what the fuck WAS that?!

DAVE: i dont come away with the impression i used to try convincing myself of, that he was like "mysterious" or "stern" or "aloof"

DAVE: the only feeling left is this insane impression that i was raised by somebody who fuckin HATED me

DAVE: and the whole act of even "raising a child" was some totally fucked up game to him

DAVE: like parenthood was one of the highest tiers of irony in his solemn bullshit bro-ninja code

DAVE: so he went through those motions and did whatever he thought was "funny" or "badass"

DAVE: but under that weird stylistic and totally sociopathic approach to parenting i cant even IMAGINE there was any emotion toward me other than some sort of loathing

DIRK: What...

DIRK: Did he do?

DAVE: i dont want to get out the laundry list

DAVE: but for reference laundry wasnt one of those things

DAVE: that was just one of the many little domestic things i just had to sort of FIGURE OUT

DAVE: sorta like i eventually had to learn what the REAL purpose of a refridgerator was from movies

DIRK: Wait.

DIRK: What??

DAVE: i dunno theres too much to even get into

DAVE: just

DAVE: i dont remember the atmosphere ever not being nerve wracking

DAVE: all havin to sneak around and...

DAVE: ugh my shitty childhood spider senses are tinglin just thinking about it

DAVE: it was "training" you know

DAVE: but you know what it really was it was some vicious shit that was bad and sucked and i hated it

DAVE: it didnt make me stronger

DAVE: it did the opposite

DAVE: it made me never want to fight

DAVE: it made me never want to see blood or be near danger or hear metal sounds

DAVE: it made me hate the idea of being a hero cause he was a hero and he ruined the idea of heroism

DAVE: i dont even want to be fighting this shitty version of jack but hey nobody else has secret welsh powers so i guess i have to

DIRK: ...

DAVE: what gets me is how long it took me to put all this together

DAVE: to stop seeing it as some kinda roughhousey and eccentric life i had but was otherwise normal

DAVE: it took years to deconstruct it all and put it back together to understand how fuckin mad i should be

DAVE: and in particular how stone cold deeply uncared for i was my whole life

DAVE: like... being merely "monitored" by a violent robot

DAVE: i only started getting it after spending a lot of time in person with a bunch of people who actually did care about me

DAVE: and i could start feeling like

DAVE: actually somewhat human for the first time

DAVE: instead of...

DAVE: some sort of runty afterthought to a household cabal of smutty puppets

DIRK: ... Puppets?

DAVE: the fuckin puppets!!!

DAVE: i know how it sounds but i am NOT joking and there is NO shred of doubt in my mind that he loved all those puppets more than me

DAVE: honestly it is very possible that he was just insane and thats that

DAVE: i guess it didnt help either that we lived with what we have come to understand may theoretically be the most evil doll to exist in any universe ever

DAVE: in fact its my tenuous understanding that he came down to earth with that thing and like actually grew up with it

DAVE: maybe...

DAVE: maybe spending 30 some years being unseparable from that hell puppet had some effect on him??

DAVE: maybe if it hadnt been casting a pall over our apartment 24/7 since he took me in...

DAVE: grinning...

DAVE: glaring...

DAVE: laughing in my sleep...

DAVE: maybe our lives wouldnt have been quite so...

DAVE: maybe we would have...

DAVE: ugh

DIRK: What?

DIRK: You ok there?

DAVE: .....

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: That doll.

DIRK: That was Cal, right?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: My version is "empty", apparently.

DIRK: Whatever that means.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: how do you know that

DIRK: A source.

DIRK: One supposedly knowledgeable in jujus.

DIRK: I never quite knew what that meant, though.

DAVE: well

DAVE: whatever his was

DAVE: "empty" is never how i would have described it

DIRK: Hmm.

DAVE: man

DAVE: i dunno if i figured something out here

DAVE: like um "explained" something or

DAVE: if im just driving myself crazy with this talk and nothing even needs explaining

DAVE: it doesnt change my past or how i feel about him

DAVE: he was still pretty much awful no matter what the reason

DAVE: and im sure thats the only feeling ill ever have about him

DAVE: so who cares why it was like that

DIRK: Yeah...

DIRK: That...

DIRK: All sounds really bad.

DIRK: I don't know what to say though.

DIRK: Maybe I shouldn't say anything.

DIRK: Since I just remind you so much of him, for, uh. Obvious reasons.

DIRK: I don't want to make you feel worse, or make it sound like I'm offering a defense.

DIRK: For him, or me.

DIRK: Because I don't have one.

DIRK: For either of us.

DAVE: come on man

DAVE: YOU didnt do anything

DAVE: this was just some douche bag with your exact dna, who happened to grow up to be my bro

DAVE: you had a completely different life full of like

DAVE: different choices and actions and stuff

DAVE: and even if you were gonna turn out like him youve barely cleared the half way mark on actually chronologically gettin there

DAVE: in some way ranting about all this is probably just uncool of me because...

DAVE: you arent him

DAVE: youre not resposible for any of this shit but im sorta implicitly tacking it on you anyway

DAVE: so

DAVE: sorry about that

DIRK: I'm not sure it's true though.

DIRK: At least, I don't feel that way.

DAVE: what way

DIRK: That I'm not him.

DIRK: The fact is, I am.

DIRK: It's something I've come to understand about myself.

DIRK: All splinters of me are basically me, no matter how much I want to resist that truth.

DIRK: Or pretend they aren't reflecting my own qualities back at me.

DIRK: I bear a certain responsibility for all of them.

DAVE: splinters...?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: I guess the concept isn't that unique to me.

DIRK: We've all got other versions of ourselves running around here and there, throughout the various compartments of this messed up cosmos.

DAVE: right

DIRK: I just happen to be particularly connected to mine.

DIRK: I've felt...

DIRK: Haunted by them.

DIRK: And what that really means is, I'm perpetually haunted by my own bad qualities.

DIRK: So, when I hear about stuff I did in another reality,

DIRK: I'm not sure what my adult self might have ever tried to do to atone for that stuff, if anything...

DAVE: pretty much dick squat

DIRK: Yeah. But in any case,

DIRK: I'm sure I was completely in the wrong, and I'm sorry I messed up your life.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: thanks

DAVE: but

DAVE: it still feels a little odd accepting an apology from somebody who i just met and technically had nothing to do with my life

DAVE: even if you do feel guilty splinterways or whatever

DAVE: it is just a messed up situation

DAVE: and i guess i had to vent

DAVE: and there was never anyone i wanted to say all that to

DAVE: and the only thing that was gonna drag it out of me i guess was like a teen stand-in phantom of my dead bro

DAVE: just some perfectly innocent dude havin to take the brunt of this shit

DIRK: I'm not particularly innocent though.

DIRK: I've messed a lot of things up.

DIRK: With my friends.

DIRK: Honestly, that's why I wasn't that bent on sticking around, when I showed up.

DIRK: And pretty much jumped at the offer of flying here to get ready for some yet to be explained battle.

DIRK: Battles are easy. Just you, a sword, some bad guys... it's a lot simpler than having to answer for things you did.

DIRK: For the most part, I feel pretty bad about the role I played in my friends' lives.

DIRK: Especially Jake.

DAVE: what happened there

DIRK: I don't even know.

DIRK: An unmitigated disaster for which I'm entirely to blame.

DIRK: It's not any one thing. I think I was just a completely toxic element in his life from day one.

DIRK: I don't know what he's doing now.

DIRK: I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to avoid me as much as possible.

DIRK: I'm sure that's for the best.

DIRK: I think I need to stay out of his business for a good while, so I don't risk poisoning another innocent kid's life.

DIRK: Like I did with you, apparently.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: maybe its a little different cause relations between peers is a whole other thing

DAVE: its tricky shit and youre both figuring stuff out on a relatively equal footing and youre both at the same point in your lives

DAVE: its not like when one person is older and supposed to be a lot more...

DAVE: never mind this is a fucked up thing to think about

DAVE: but the bottom line is yeah laying low while you sort out your stuff cant hurt

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: The thing with that, with my adult self's...

DIRK: Ways.

DIRK: The sad thing is,

DIRK: I can really see it.

DIRK: How someone like me can go unchecked in life, and turn out to become a much worse person than I already am.

DIRK: I guess I'm just relieved I still have some time to make sure that doesn't happen.

DAVE: you dont actually seem like a bad person to me though

DIRK: No?

DAVE: nah

DIRK: Why not?

DIRK: We did just meet, after all.

DAVE: because

DAVE: i dunno if truly bad people wrestle so much with whether theyre good or bad

DAVE: i think if i ever sensed my bro like

DAVE: struggled at all with what he was doing or who he was

DAVE: or showed any sort of doubt

DAVE: that might have changed everything

DAVE: but there was never a crack in it

DAVE: or the slightest hint of introspection behind the aggressive cooldude facade

DAVE: if there was i sure never noticed

DAVE: i mean personally

DAVE: i think about it all the time now

DAVE: what it actually means to be good or bad

DAVE: or if not something that starkly moral

DAVE: at least just trying to examine the difference between being decent and being a douche

DAVE: maybe its because of him i worry about that now

DAVE: but for me i think that internal struggle is kind of mild

DAVE: for him...

DAVE: or you i mean

DAVE: it sounds like some pretty dark shit

DAVE: like grappling with...

DAVE: becoming evil vs simply trying not to

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That's not too far off.

DAVE: but the point is

DAVE: even just talkin to you a little bit

DAVE: its obvious youve been fighting with that

DAVE: which means that you care enough to put in some effort

DAVE: i think that counts for something

DIRK: Maybe.

DIRK: Not sure if I'm ready to accept a pat on the back for recognizing I have some problems, and worrying about whether they'll destroy me and fuck up the people I care about.

DIRK: That might be setting the bar kind of low.

DAVE: well when it comes to the subject of him

DAVE: the bars already pretty low dude

DIRK: The weird thing, honestly,

DIRK: Is that it's actually kind of refeshing to hear a sincerely leveled critique of all my negative qualities, coming from another person invested in a relationship with me, rather than from a fucked up iteration of myself as some bizarre "trollish" form of self abuse.

DIRK: The only thing I've ever been exposed to are either various forms of self loathing either from me or my auto-responder, or attitudes completely oblivious to my real issues, as expressed through my friends.

DIRK: My friends always seemed to cut me so much slack, or were just never aware of the kind of person I really was.

DIRK: Well, Jake probably is, by now at least.

DIRK: But he's also the sort of guy who's just as likely to blame himself for stuff I did, as he is to blame me.

DIRK: Jane and Roxy, though.

DIRK: Never seemed to see anything wrong with me.

DIRK: If anything, just the contrary.

DIRK: Roxy in particular had a certain... fixation.

DIRK: She meant well, but was so enamored of me, and seemingly everything I did.

DIRK: Which I think was the last thing I needed.

DIRK: To be idolized in some form by other people I respected.

DIRK: I had enough of that feeling coming from within, particularly when I was younger.

DIRK: And since then, I've been plagued by the insane ego of my youth in the form of an artificial intelligence I designed which essentially trapped that state of mind in a sort of horrid suspended animation.

DIRK: Until... recent developments, of course.

DAVE: so

DAVE: was that stuff true

DAVE: when you said you idolized the other version of me

DIRK: Yeah.

DAVE: and not just some bullshit like how i used to say the same thing about my bro when i didnt know any better

DIRK: It's definitely not like that.

DIRK: I never lived with him, or met him, so couldn't have anything like the contentious relationship you had with my older self.

DIRK: He was a historical figure from centuries ago.

DIRK: There was a lot to admire, and think about fondly.

DIRK: Especially since I was alone, and never had any direct contact with another person, or any concept of civilization.

DIRK: So even though I'm sure I romanticized what his life was like, and the early 21st century in general,

DIRK: It was nice to think about you.

DIRK: I passed a lot of time that way.

DAVE: you say there was a lot to admire

DAVE: like what

DIRK: Well...

DIRK: He was pretty famous.

DIRK: Made some successful movies.

DIRK: At least under a somewhat expansive definition of "success".

DIRK: And an even more expansive definition of "movie".

DIRK: His work accumulated a lot of subversive political influence, which got him in trouble later.

DIRK: He made like a million bullshit Statues of Liberty, scummed them up with jpeg artifacts, and littered them all over the planet.

DAVE: holy shit

DIRK: He was also a pretty badass swordsman, and an active member of the resistance movement.

DIRK: He slaughtered the clown presidents on the roof of the White House, and flew away on a shitty skateboard.

DIRK: Then it seems he gave the Batterwitch a pretty good run for her money.

DIRK: It wasn't enough, but at least he went down fighting.

DAVE: that

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: ima need to hear more details on this some time

DIRK: Sure.

DIRK: But as you can tell, clearly there was a lot to look up to.

DIRK: I thought about the examples you set constantly. The creative ideals, the advanced theories on irony and humor, the tales of courage and martial prowess.

DIRK: Really, I modeled everything about myself after you. Or at least everything good that I was trying to become.

DIRK: And I probably spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining what it would be like to live during his time, and to be able to have something resembling a sibling relationship, or be in some sort of master-apprentice situation.

DIRK: When I finally learned you existed, and started to understand who he really was in relation to me, that put a lot into context.

DIRK: I realized he was a version of you who got a chance to live up to his full potential.

DIRK: And when I understood there was a young version of you, in a situation sorta like mine, whose time on Earth got cut short when you were thrown into all this,

DIRK: I was at least happy to think there was some reality where you got the chance to do everything you wanted to do, be successful, and fight for all the right things.

DIRK: Even if ultimately it didn't lead to a great outcome for humanity, you had an opportunity to live a full life and show what you were made of.

DIRK: While I guess I had... the same opportunity on your world, somewhat less fortunately.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: but then for all my bitching i guess i still never grasped your full reality

DAVE: just like you probably didnt grasp mine, but just reading into the mindset of a historical figure as best you could

DAVE: what if i wasnt as heroic as it seemed?

DAVE: what if adult me was kinda douchey too in a way you couldnt observe

DIRK: Perhaps.

DIRK: But beyond a certain point, I think accomplishments speak for themselves.

DIRK: I dunno if you can just completely shred every person who ever did great things because they had some flaws.

DIRK: All I can say is, it was important to me to see him the way I did.

DIRK: As a good person who inspired me, and set the standard for what I wanted to be.

DIRK: It kept me going.

DIRK: That said, I'm also glad there's this version of you who got to go through all the things you've been through.

DIRK: Like, yeah, you didn't get to be the cool celebrity who cuts down juggalos on badly defaced government property.

DIRK: And the idea of a "normal life" was rudely taken from you, and it's something you'll never get to experience.

DIRK: But this is so much more challenging, and uncertain.

DIRK: You get to apply all that potential you showed in one reality to something much bigger and more existentially critical.

DIRK: Whatever strength you showed in trying to save a dying planet, the fact is, I think we need that more here.

DIRK: And the trials inherent in being a part of something like this, I think they bring more out of you than a relatively pedestrian life on Earth would. Make you face more things about yourself. At least, that's been true for me.

DIRK: But it sounds like it's been true for you too.

DIRK: It sounds to me like the experiences you've had changed you a lot, for the better.

DIRK: You mentioned the experiences with him that were designed to make you stronger have actually made you weaker, but really, I doubt that's true.

DIRK: I bet you've become stronger than you realize, not because of anything he did, but because of what you've done, and the ways you've changed yourself through your own effort.

DIRK: I hope it doesn't come off as overly sentimental garbage, but it seems to me like you turned out to be a really good dude.

DIRK: Like, really, a better sort of dude I ever imagined talking to when I pictured meeting the legendary guy I idolized.

DIRK: I pictured him as probably being "too cool" to be the type of guy you are.

DIRK: But you know what, fuck being too cool for that.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: you

DAVE: ...

DAVE: you dont think im cool?

DIRK: Nah.

DIRK: I mean, in the right way, yes. I think you are.

DIRK: But, in the way that doesn't mean anything and doesn't matter,

DIRK: Not particularly.

DAVE: ...

DIRK: Anyway, that's...

DIRK: All my "stuff", with respect to your other self.

DIRK: Again, there's a lot more I could say about him.

DIRK: Maybe stuff you should know, or maybe it's all irrelevant to the path you're on now.

DIRK: Regardless, I'd be more than willing to answer any questions you have about him.

DIRK: Or, anything really.

DIRK: Feel free to ask me whatever, ok?

DAVE: ...

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i

DAVE: ill have to think

#homestuck #dave strider #dirk strider #homestuck act 6 #page 7748 #page 7749 #page 7750 #page 7751 #page 7752 #page 7753 #page 7754 #page 7755 #page 7756 #homestuck act 6 act 6 #homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5

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lucreziaq2001 · 5 months

Text

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Bullying the victim is blamed for and the culprit partially tries to justify, mentions of the fact that someone was humiliated in front of all his friends and his bad boy reputation was kind of ruined, mentions of the fact that a girl apparently made most of her schoolmates uncomfortable and of fights between her and another girl, plus this other girl being referred to as "vicious" by her former boyfriend and a man trying to flirt (in a way) with the daughter of the writer who is questioning him.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @chrrysgirl, @hugyourlungs, @achillmango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @rynwritesreid, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 6: Aaron Hotchner

After hearing what Matthew had to say, as the man had predicted, everyone almost immediately agreed to cooperate.

"Good. Then if it's okay with you, I'd like to ask you some questions in another room, one person at a time" David then said, and again, everyone agreed to it.

It took longer that time, maybe because they understood that even though Dave wasn't a policeman and hadn't used the word "interview", they were considered suspects.

In the end, however, they accepted.

Aaron asked to be the first person to be questioned, just as David hoped, so the two men went into the dining room and closed the door, then the interrogation began.

"Aaron Hotchner. Elizabeth Prentiss has told me a lot about you" Dave began.

He wasn't lying.

The day after the one of their brief meeting, Emily's mother had asked one of the nurses at retirement home she lived in to look up David's phone number and had called him, mainly to talk to him about the difficult relationship between her daughter and Aaron Hotchner.

"You had quite the bad boy reputation in high school. Ladies' man, cool car" he added a few seconds later, and Aaron laughed, clearly pleased that Dave knew those things about him too.

"I still have it, actually, it's in my garage. Maybe your middle daughter wants to come take a spin. Her name is Diane, right? I've heard she's single and she and I are almost the same age" he then said, and although David didn't like the fact that Aaron was practically hitting on his daughter, he couldn't help but smile.

"Some people, at least for certain things, never change" he thought, shaking his head, then he decided to continue with the interrogation.

"I'll ask her" he replied "But let's get back to us now. People still remember those crazy races near the pine forest".

"Undefeated. All through high school" Aaron boasted "That car was like a rocket".

"Oh. Actually, I heard a different story" David replied, finally getting to the point "One night, you lost a race and were humiliated in front of all your friends by a girl".

"Who? Emily Prentiss? Oh, she wasn't like other girls" Aaron replied.

Thankfully, he had clearly changed his opinion on Emily over the years.

"You used to bully Emily at school, and after she showed you off, you only hated her more" Dave said, and as a response, at first Aaron just nodded.

"Now I regret what I did, but I also still partly think that if she had just dressed like a woman, no one would have made fun of her" Aaron told him, partly trying to justify the actions of his teenage self.

"You felt threatened by her, didn't you, Aaron?" Dave then asked him, irritated by the man's attempt to blame Emily for his mistakes.

"She made me feel uncomfortable, actually!" Aaron responded "She did it to everyone, even the girls".

"Are you saying Emily had argued with one of them too?" David then asked, not really expecting those words from the man sitting in front of him.

"Oh, yes!" Aaron exclaimed "I think you know how some women are: vicious. And my girlfriend at the time was just like that".

Then he too, just like Elizabeth Prentiss had done over the phone, began to talk about an event he had kept secret for almost fourty years.

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be-the-creature-fan · 2 months

Text

Rise of ZV (Episode 4)

Episode Summary: Martin's Job is stressing him out which is taking a toll on his mental health. Meanwhile Zach is getting ready to run for a government position. John Doe is enjoying his new life and continues to learn about the lives of Mr and Mrs Svinth

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* *click*

Martin turned off his alarm clock. It was a Monday, not like it mattered it was just another day without Chris. Martin slowly got out of bed before he started getting ready for work. As he was getting ready he turned on the TV to catch up on the news. Though Martin for the most part never really paid any mind to the news, however someone had caught his eye during a political segment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Zach Varmitech, founder of Varmitech Industries have just announced run for presidency in this upcoming election."

Those were the words that appered on the bottom of Martin's TV screen as A News Reporter was seen sat across Zach Varmitech and was interviewing him on live television.

"So, Mr. Varmitech what has inspired you to run for presidency despite not having any prior experience in a political position"

"Well you see Ms. Stone, in this day and age our country is currently facing many problems such as not being able to find affordable housing, not being able to pay off student loan debt, the list goes on. And not to mention the political discourse plaugeing our country. I have ideas and the plans to eradicate these problems." Zach then turn towards the camera. "Your vote for me will be one step forward to having a better Future."

"What kinds of plans do you have that would allow such problems as these to be fixed?"

"Well from what I have noticed many of our natural resources are not being utilized and are instead" *-click-*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martin turned off his TV and scoffed

"Pfft the day Zach becomes President is the day Chris comes back from the dead"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Doe had been out of the hospital for just over 6 months. In the time since then had gained back the majority of his ability to walk besides a noticeable limp. The lost of his left eye also took some getting used to but it was nothing compared to the pain of not being able to reaccount anything except for a stupid word despite being on medication for the majority of his consciousness. Mr and Mrs Svinth were a godsent and as John's physical condition continued to improve, upon John's request they allowed him to help out with more of the labor inducing chores instead of just collecting eggs from the chickens or helping Mrs Svinth with her vegetable garden. He was finally able to work in the fields with Mr. Svinth where he was able to clear his mind.

As Mr Svinth was showing John the ropes he began also regailing stories of the time he taught his own son about farming.

"Oh, you never told me you and Barbara have a son" John said not thinking about why Mr. Svinth haven't spoken about his son before.

Mr. Svinth sighed, "That's because he passed away about 3 years ago, its hard for Barbara whenever I bring him up so I don't unless she's not with me."

John was taken aback and profusely apologized. Mr Svinth put his hand on John's shoulder and assured him that he wasn't at fault for bring it up.

They continued to work for a couple of hours until John started developing a Migraine which was a recently diagnosed side effect of the medicine he was taking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martin was working at his desk when he over hears 2 of his colleagues talking politics.

"I'm telling yah Mark, this Varmitech dude seems too good to be true"

"Aw Dave, I'm telling you Varmitech may be a multi-billioniare and since he's not a politician he won't bombard us with empty promises"

Martin had decided to tune out the rest of the conversation, and started focusing on the task at hand but after working in the scientific field for so long only to be cursed with a desk job seemed like a big burden.

So day in and day out Martin continued to meet his deadlines and do what he needed to do but in return became a empty husk of who he once was.

But little did he know that will all change in a matter of months.

TBC......

#wild kratts #kratt brothers #chris kratt #martin kratt #why im i doing this #please help me #rise of zv #its back baby #accidentally posted it early #oops

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youre-a-total--poser · 2 years

Text

Untitled (Request)

Warnings: Spider-Man: No Way Home spoilers. Anymore let me know

Age: 25

Word Count: 1,174

Requests: Closed

Summary: You and your husband Peter unexpectedly disappeared leaving your 3-year-old daughter and your mother behind.

Requested by: Wattpad user

Date: 30/08/2022

A/N: thank you so much I hope you enjoy :)

I'm needing help with coming up with a title for this one too some reason I'm having a difficult time coming up with titles.

We have had mama Nat now for the first time ever we have grandma Nat

---⧗---

Natasha had just watched her daughter, her only child, her baby, disappear into dust right in front of her.

She didn't even get the chance to hug, kiss or even say goodbye to her baby.

Natasha didn't just lose her daughter she also lost her son-in-law Peter. There was one more person that she hoped she didn't lose.

She ran upstairs and into one of the bedrooms and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the little girl peacefully sleeping in her bed having no idea that her parents are gone maybe forever

Above the bed, there were pink wooden letters with white spots that read 'May'. She was named after Peter's late aunt as a way to honour her as she raised Peter since he was very young.

Natasha sat down on May's bed and gently took hold of her little hand.

"I promise I'm never going to let anything happen to you. I couldn't save your parents but I'm going to keep you safe your whole life."

*6 Years Later*

Time went on and May reminded Natasha more and more of her daughter each day.

Each night May would wear her parent's clothes for pyjamas and she would always wear her mother's jewellery every day.

She would kiss the picture that she has beside her bed of her parents and her the day she was born and would look up to the sky just before bed and say goodnight to her parents and tell them just how she misses them and loves them and how she wished that they would come back and hold her in their arms again. Natasha would also talk to May about her parents and would tell her stories whenever she asked.

---⧗---

May walked downstairs and into the kitchen mentally preparing herself to tell her grandma something that she has been thinking about for a while.

"Hey, sweetheart I was just about to come to find you. Is everything okay?" Natasha asked while finishing putting away some dishes.

"Yes but I need to talk to you about something important."

Natasha put the tea towel down on the counter and turned to face May. "Of course honey, you can tell me anything."

"Grandma, I think, no wait I know I definitely know. 100% well maybe not 100 but..."

"Natasha put her hands on her granddaughter's shoulders "it's okay sweetheart take your time."

May took a deep breath and looked down at her hands and started playing with her fingers. "I'm gay." She whispered as if it was something to be ashamed of. "I like girls the way I'm supposed to like boys."

A wide smile grew on Natasha's face she was so glad that May knew she could tell her grandma anything and not feel scared or embarrassed.

She pulled May into a tight hug. "Thank you so much for telling me, sweetheart. It means a lot to me that you felt comfortable enough to share that with me and I'm going to support you and help you with whatever you need."

May hugged Natasha back tighter. "Thank you, grandma. I know that I'm only young and stuff but I have felt this way for a long time."

Natasha pulled may out of the hug and cupped her face. "No matter what I'll always be so proud of you. You're so brave for telling me."

Tears of happiness started filling in May's eyes. "Thank you for supporting me, grandma."

"I've got something to tell you too." Natasha wiped the tears away that fell from May's eyes. "Tony has found a way to bring your parents and everyone who disappeared all those years ago home."

May couldn't believe what she was hearing her parents were coming back "Is it true are they really coming back?"

Natasha nodded "You can go ask him if you want he's in the lab like always."

May nodded then ran to Tony's lab.

When she ran into the lab Tony was building something.

She ran over to him "Is it true that there's a way to bring my parents and everyone back?" She asked breathlessly.

"That's the goal kid," Tony replied not looking away from whatever it was he was building.

The smile that hadn't left May's face sudden faded when a million questions began running through her mind.

"What if they don't like me? What if I'm a disappointment to them? what if they aren't as great as grandma says they are? what if..." May spoke aloud pacing around the lab.

"Listen kid I get that you're having some sort of life crisis here but can you please do it elsewhere I've got a lot to do." Tony sighed.

"Right sorry," May said then quickly left the lab.

---⧗---

A few days had past Tony had finished figuring out the way to bring everyone home.

Natasha took May to a place where she would be safe but she didn't tell May why she had to stay there.

May waited and waited in one of the bedrooms but her grandma still hadn't returned she was starting to worry that something bad happened to her.

---⧗---

May looked up when the bedroom door opened and saw Natasha walk in. She ran into her grandma's arms and gives her the biggest hug in the world. "I thought something bad had happened to you."

"I'm so sorry for scaring you sweetheart the mission took a little longer than expected but I've got a surprise for you downstairs.

Natasha took May downstairs and covered her eyes when they got to the last stair and carefully led her into the living room.

A young couple was waiting in the living room for them.

When Natasha took her hands away from May's eyes and she saw who was standing in front of her tears started forming in her eyes. She recognised the couple from the pictures and she knew those were her parents. "Mommy, daddy." She ran over to you and Peter and hugged you both as tightly as she possibly could.

You couldn't believe how big your baby girl had gotten or that you were holding her in your arms again.

You pulled her away from you and cupped her face and started to study her facial features. She had Peter's brown hair and your green eyes. She looked so much like you when you were a child.

A few tears fell from May's eyes and you wiped them away with your thumbs. "My baby is no longer a baby anymore she's all grown up."

"I'm nearly 10 years old mama I'm definitely not a baby anymore," May told you.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing you missed 6 years of your daughter's life." I promise you my love me and your daddy are never going to leave you again."

---⧗---

You kept your promise and you and Peter hardly ever left May and you did all that you could to make up for the years that you had missed with her.

---⧗---

Taglist - @glxwingrxse // @griffin-girl-r // @uglymammoth // @arinexeisnotworking // @donuts2021 // @blackwidow-3 // @faesvoid // @ali-lie // @froufrousnowman // @mmmmokdok // @circe143 // @babbynuggets // @nighttime-dreaming // @lizlil // @lissaaaa145 // @snowdrop1026 // @shixicbe // @i-writes-things // @scarlet-kazuha // @geckygecks

#mama nat #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #grandma Nat #grandma Natasha #Y/N Parker #Y/N Parker daughter #Peter Parker x reader’s child #y/n romanoff

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the-warmesthello · 1 year

Text

barb

putting a tw at the beginning of this because i probably should. tw for religious trauma (including some mormon terminology), mention of fungi, homophobia (including derogatory use of the word queer), dysfunctional parenting, grief/mourning, alcoholism, bad mental health times all round, some tough parts of the therapeutic process

really i didn't expect this to get heavy part way through so if you want to skip the worst bit (aftermath of the banana incident), it's most of the next rb. :)

(btw i am nevermo, correct me if i got something wrong)

born on the 21st of december, 1934 in provo, utah

was raised in the latter day saints

had a keen interest in chemistry from the time she could express it, but because sciences were discouraged for the girls in her family, learned mostly about the science in domestic work

amazing baker, had the exact ratios for each ingredient memorised by the time she started school

became fascinated by fermentation and saw the scoby and starters as her pets, watching them make bubbles for hours on end

learned the old burning-things-with-a-magnifying-glass trick, but only used it for leaves because the ants didn't deserve that

one time when she was 6, she made chloroform out of cleaning chemicals, put it in a glass bottle, and smashed it in front of her bullies to see what would happen

(she got in trouble for that)

(worth it)

just before school started, her parents noticed that she would always hold books very close to her face, amongst other things, and when they took her to the doctor she became the proud owner of some incredibly nifty glasses, if she did say so herself

only had one friend in school, alma merrill, who she thought was kind and funny and beautiful and...

just the greatest

even though she didn't understand what barb meant when she talked about exothermic reactions, she'd still sit there and nod along, and she had so many exciting things to say in return even though it wasn't what barb usually liked

when she grew up, she wanted her husband to be just like alma

when they were 13, alma was told to stay away from her because she was 'queer, and not only in the loony way' (neither barb nor alma could figure out what that meant)

after that, she focused most of her time on her studies, which her parents were now suddenly encouraging of

("at least it'll keep her away from sin," she heard her parents whisper when they thought she wasn't there)

graduated high school at 15, youngest ever at her school

brigham young university wouldn't let her in until she was 16, so she took a gap year

she was told to stay on the property except for church, but as long as she did her chores and continued to learn household management, she was allowed to do whatever she wanted

she took this opportunity to study mechanical engineering, watching her father teach her brothers how to fix the mower then reading about engine torque

she knew that her ideas on how to make it go faster wouldn't be listened to, so she told her younger brother, isaiah, what to say and let him take the credit

he needed the praise, but it still hurt

but it was overshadowed by how good it felt to be right when her idea worked

at university, she was a bit too young to participate in the whole courtship thing that made up the backbone of social life there

she couldn't understand why her peers would choose to do all that for just some guy, but maybe she just wasn't old enough yet

graduated an accelerated course, a bs in applied physics with a minor in biochemistry, in 1954 at 19 years old

immediately applied for work in the military for the travel benefits

worked her way up very quickly since the need for chemical and nuclear weapons was increasing and they needed an innovative mind

at first it was weird, the way things were so different outside the church, but eventually she came around to the office culture of relaxed chatting over coffee while on break

and huh, come to think of it, the people she met were all different, and most of them seemed like pretty decent people to her

there wasn't an exact moment that cracked her belief, more just an increasing awareness of her own cognitive dissonance

and when she was invited to come back to provo for her endowment, she didn't respond

in late 1955, she got an offer from the a.s.s. to join their equipment development program for field agents where she would get full reign over what she did, and how could she say no to that?

and, ok, so there's this one guy, right? he's a field agent, his name is curt, and he's infuriating, but very conventionally attractive, and you know, theoretically, it wouldn't be awful to date him

is this what a crush is?

she thinks this is probably what a crush is

it takes a lot of work to feel this way, but she's pretty sure that she could be, no, is attracted to him

and she gets to be the one to supervise him on missions!!

but the issue is that curt has this friend and they're always together

if she wants to date this guy, she has to find some alone time, so she has to get rid of the friend

however... this guy, curt's friend, he's shockingly competent at his job, and he stops curt from dying constantly

plus, he's nice to barb, even if it's in that weird stiff british way all the mi6 guys seem to be

and one day, when she's briefing them on a tool neither of them have ever used before (of course they haven't, barb invented it herself), this friend, who's been staring behind her the entire time, says 'why don't you make the handle smaller? that way it's not as bulky and makes it easier to press the buttons on the right in a combat situation'

and oh.

the answer was that simple.

from then on, he stops being known as 'curt's friend (british)' and starts being 'owen (my best friend)'

they become each others' sounding boards, each of them dumping all their ideas out and talking through it with each other

barb knows how all the technical stuff for how her inventions work, but owen is detached enough to not overthink it and just state the obvious that she forgot

owen is continually formulating arguments and debates; why he should get a raise, why his partner (who barb still hasn't met yet, she hopes she'll get to meet her some day) should consider his point of view in conversation before going off on a tangent about something that wasn't even what he suggested, why whatever politics going on in england actually does affect his siblings, etc.

picking apart his arguments and playing the devil's advocate is one of barb's favourite things

curt is an unwilling participant in this little club of theirs, and often provides what she assumes he thinks is comedic relief

and for the first time, barb is content with how things are going for her

#yeah i did switch the tenses around to show how connected to that part of her life she was #thank u for not noticing like i did until after when i realised that's what i did #sorry about heavenly father-dropping i usually censor g.d but i know barb wouldnt so #also lmaoooo i wrote enough that the typing started lagging #update on the lag: tumblr forced me to make this in multiple sections so the rest of this will be ready when its ready #oof this took almost 6 months and im finally done now #barb #headcanons #im right #spies are forever #tin can bros #barb larvernor

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thejediandthemandalorian · 6 months

Text

Fic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged by @texasdreamer01 😊

1.) How many works do you have on ao3

9, though some of them are only visible if you're logged in.

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

64,757, not a lot but there's nothing wrong with that.

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars, lots of Star Wars. I think I wrote for Yuri!!! On Ice before? I used to write for Marvel, I did a little bit of Phantom of the Opera (very little), I have some unpublished Avatar the Last Airbender fics, and I am currently writing for Our Flag Means Death 🤭 I hope around depending on what I feel/am hyperfixating on, but ultimately it always comes back to Star Wars.

4.) What are your top five pics by kudos?

Fighting For Your Power - one of my first published Star Wars fics. Definitely not my favorite and also unfinished, a common occurrence with my ever changing brain.

If I Could Hold You For a Minute (Darling, I'd do it Again.) - Codywan. A little hurt comfort thing that takes place after the Rako Hardeen incident

Orbital Decay - another Codywan fic, probably my longest posted fic at this point in time.

And cowboy is his name - a short little bobadin cowboy au that I'm thinking of adding more onto, whether it's little snippets or an actual story is to be seen.

To Be A Good Soldier - a Commander Cody fic, kinda my own little headcanon as to how he got his scar.

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, it just takes me a while to get there. I'm always a little slow on the up taking. I reply to comments because someone took a brief moment of their time after reading my story to let me know their thoughts, and it means the world to me, so the least I can do is respond to their comments.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

A fic that no longer is on AO3 🙈 I took it down after a couple years of like....no one reading it, and decided to keep it to myself, like a dragon. The story is hurt comfort without any of the comfort lol. Poor poor Garashir, doomed by the narrative and also me.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oooooh let me think. Recently they all have happy endings because I myself need one. Uhhhhhh. Probably Orbital Decay. My babies get together very tentatively at the end.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Ehhh my fics don't get seen by a wide enough audience I think. The only 'hate' I've ever gotten was someone demanding me tag something, but it wasn't even very hateful so. No I guess not.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Once upon a long time ago, but I haven't in ages and frankly it makes me uncomfortable to write, always has.

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't, it's not something that holds my interest.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...😳

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

No sir-y

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes and no? It's a collaborative fic, but I'm not the one writing it, I just had the base idea and give more ideas for the concept and squeal and cry over it.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

It changes with the tides, but how can I pick one set of my beloveds over another?

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

All of them. Lol uhh I really really wanna get the Codywan AU fic written, but I'm at a point where I currently don't have it in me, I don't have much writing in me at all right now.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I love dialogue. I've also been told, and I have to trust what people tell me, that I'm very descriptive and also know how to write a fight scene.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Lack of confidence in my skills. Inability to finish what I've started. Making sure I'm keeping people in character, and also I tend to lack in the plot department.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Well, I think so long as you...ugh this one is tricky cause I don't know how to phrase it. I like to write in other languages in very very small doses. A little smattering here and there. But also, I feel like it's important to know the language you're writing in or consult someone who does for accuracy? Idk how to explain it.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel. Marvel. And more Marvel. I had a very long story (with no actual plot) posted to a different site, and then took to writing people's requests for Marvel ship fics for a time.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Uhhh idk To Be a Good Soldier? I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it will be the little OFMD fic idea I had, but who knows.

Softly nudging @poibynt @missypup @frostbitebakery and anyone else who might like to do this

#tag game #20 questions #fic writer #star wars #codywan #bobadin #sad but true lol

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rxmuz · 2 years

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Red is the Color of Temptation CH.3

ao3 link

Idk why I didn't think to post the fic here as well but whatever lol. I'll post the first two chapters after this! Anyways, horny thoughts about old fat man and his stomach and excuse my shitty writing skills, I'm new to this 😭

(btw this isn't a first person fic, I just wrote it this way for this chapter!)

word count: 2.3k

It's 6 am when I clock out. The sun hadn't risen yet but there was a light sprinkle falling. As soon as I get home I get into the shower, washing off the grease and sweat from my shift. I usually only had a few minutes under the spray before the streaming water turns lukewarm and then freezing.

The shower helped to soothe my aching muscles but I was still tired. Not enough to fall asleep but enough that I didn't even have the energy to get up and fix myself something to eat.

It's three weeks later that I'm sitting on my couch and mindlessly browsing through channels.

My place doesn't really have any decorations, a few pictures here and there but outside of that, it looked like no one lived here.

There are two leather layers, a coffee table made of faux wood in the living room, and two hanging photographs on my wall. It was a single bedroom apartment, the room consisting of a queen bed, a desk, and a medium-sized drawer.

It's not much but it's something. It's mine, even if I have to work at a club owned by criminals.

I truly don't mind though.

I didn't have the best upbringing, but that could be said for a lot of people in Gotham.

My mother died when I was three so it was just me, my two siblings, and my dad until I moved out. My dad worked two regular jobs and some odd jobs then a there, those odd jobs being some work for the mob in our neighborhood. When my twin brother and I were old enough we started to run errands for them. Delivering money, packages, and letters for whoever needed them. It was enough to help our dad pay the bills and we really didn't mind. It was the norm for us.

That was until my brother was killed.

Shot dead in the middle of the sidewalk walking home from school. It was a drive-by and they had mistaken him for someone else. We had just turned 15.

My dad took me and my younger sister and all the money we had and moved to the outskirts of the city. That was about 8 years ago.

It's hard to lose a sibling but it's a different pain to lose a twin. For the first few years, I didn't feel like myself, I still don't but I've gotten better. The grievance isn't as strong, and the pain doesn't hurt as much, but the loneliness is still there.

But I kept moving.

I always do.

By the time I finally fall asleep it's around 4 pm in the afternoon but I don't sleep for long. I wake up about two hours later. I look around for my phone for a bit before I find it under one of the cushions of my couch. I unlock it to find several messages waiting for me. Three from Chez and one from Oz. He texts me every day or so to check up on me but every time I'm still slightly shocked to see a message from him

Cheeze: hru?

The topic moves on.

Cheeze: are u fucking mr boss man? Cheese: wait are you sleeping?

Fuck hell.

Me: …not anymore Me: go away!

The answer I receive is instantaneous.

Cheeze: so thats a yes…lol! Cheeze: he good in bed or???

Me: i am not fucking mr boss man Me: why would you even think that?

My phone buzzes again.

Cheeze: i saw you go into his office Cheeze: is it considered a office? Cheeze: it don't got a door dawg…

I genuinely need new fucking friends. Actually, just a “friend” because Chez is my only friend.

I am not lonely…

I am not lying…

I don't even want to give her the satisfaction of a reply, but I'm so bored I end up replying anyway.

Me: it's a private room. Me: he has an office with a door in the 44. Me: this doesn't mean im fucking him

I decide to ignore the new messages Chez sends, instead going to look at Oz's message.

Oz: Are you up? You got time for an early dinner?

What do I even say to this? I know Oz isn't the typical boss but it's not like I can out with him.

Wait is this a date? By definition, sure. In my mind, maybe, though he could just consider this as him checking up on me.

Me: I wouldn't call 6 pm an early dinner

Oz is typing…

Oz: It is if you sleep through the day!

Well, that was quick.

I don't date anyone, I don't meet anyone, and I practically don't speak to anyone beyond what was necessary. I only ever go out with Chez if I'm feeling up to it. I'm not really a people person. But this is completely different. It wouldn't really mean anything if this was a date. It could be like a friend date, like the ones I have with Chez.

Am I even friends with Oz? I'm pretty sure I am. We've been talking more during my shifts, I've even been making him some new drinks for him to test. We even played cards together!

We're definitely friends. Totally!

Me: Sure why not :)

I stare at the screen, waiting for the three dot-dot-dots designating a response.

I'm nervous.

Oz: I'll pick you up Oz: Think you can be ready in about 30 minutes?

Wait what?

Me: U KNOW WHERE I LIVE?!?!?!

A new text bubble forms, only to disappear. It pops up again.

Oz: You should know better

Me: wut does that even mean

Oz: See you in 30

He's going to drive me fucking insane.

---

I get up to open the door 30 minutes later when there's a knock on the door. I open it to find Oz leaning against the right side of my door, his arm above my head and sweat running down his brow. He looks exhausted and like he's in pain.

“Are you okay?”

“Can I sit?” He rasps out, not answering my question.

“Yeah, of course.” I say as I step out of the way.

He moves past me, making a beeline to the couch closet from us, and his limp is more obvious. He takes a seat and leans back into my couch. I don't know what to do so I just stand there and watch him. Luckily Oz speaks for me.

“Your elevator is out,” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, and sighs. “Had to walk up 3 flights of stairs. I just need a minute to rest.”

“Shit sorry, I thought you would call me to come down,” I say, moving towards him, “If I knew you were coming up I woulda told you the elevator on this side was out.”

He only grunts.

“I've got some painkillers if you want them.”

"Hmm?"

“For your leg. I'm assuming that's the problem.”

He opens his eyes again and turns his head to look at me. He looks surprised that I even offered. It kind of makes me sad.

“Yeah I would appreciate that.” he mumbles.

When I get back with the painkillers and a bottle of water, he's leaning forward on his knee and his bad leg stretched out in front of him. He looks lost in thought and doesn't hear me the first time I call him.

“Here you go Oz.”

He smiles.

“Thank you doll.”

He has a beautiful smile.

I know Oz isn't considered attractive by societal views. He's an old heavyset guy riddled with scars that has a limp, not your average-looking Joe. Yet I personally think he's nice to look at. Scars are something endearing to me, they tell a story visually. They are proof of a life of hard graft, pain, and strong will.

Plus bigger guys are more my style anyway.

I wouldn't say I'm in love, definitely not that, but over the past few weeks of talking to him and being in his presence, I would say I have a pretty decent crush on him. He's just really interesting to me. He's a mystery I want to solve and immerse myself in. I find that most days my mind wanders to the thought of him, thinking of the things he could possibly be doing. Counting cash, smoking a cigar, or beating the shit out of someone. I'm not blind to the things that Oz gets up to and he's made that distinctly clear since we've started talking.

Yet I'm drawn to this dangerous, unattainable man in a way that's completely indescribable.

I know I shouldn't be getting as close as I am to him but I can't help it. I'm fucking lonely and I can tell he his too. We both need a real friend.

No harm in it.

“Why did you want to go to dinner?” I ask, trying to refocus on actually talking to Oz rather than staring at him.

“Why? Not interested in a free meal before work?” he chuckles.

I click my tongue, “I didn't say that, I was just curious is all.”

“I needed to get out, so why not get out with someone that I can keep a genuine conversation with.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“What do you mean nuh-uh?

"Me? Keep a conversation? You're real funny Oz.”

“You don't think ya can?” he's laughing again, the pain that was once on his face now residing.

“It's more of me just answering your questions, you're the one that keeps it going.”

“Well I like your answers girlie.”

I smile, small and coy.

“Glad you think so, Oz.”

His mouth quirks, and stretches his bad ankle a few times before standing up from the couch.

“We should get going.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“I don't know, I assumed you had someplace in mind,” I say standing next to him, “What do you want?”

He chuckles, “I'll pretty much eat anything.”

My lips turn into a soft small smile, “How 'bout Mexican?”

He smiles and nods.

---

I hadn't noticed what Oz was wearing when he first came by, more so worried about him, but now that we're walking into the restaurant, I take the time to really look him over. He's wearing a fine suit, black pants and a shirt so dark it seems to swallow the light around it, and a red jacket so rich I've never seen it before. He tops it off with a white tie.

He looks handsome.

Me, on the other hand, I looked raggedy. I'm wearing a pair of dark blue wide-leg pants, a cropped black sweater with a white and red flannel over it, and a pair of old Doc Martens.

My favorite dirty boots by the way.

I should've known that Oz wouldn't take us somewhere more casual. We're at this place called Javier's Cantina. It's definitely out of my price range, the place is covered in beautiful dark brown wood and tan stone walls. High ceilings with long lanterns and ceiling fans hanging from them, filling the room with low yellowish light. It was beautiful.

“Wow.'' is all I can muster.

“Like it?”

“Yeah! This place is amazing, never been anywhere this nice.”

“I'm glad you like it sweetheart.” he chuckles as a waiter leads us to a booth.

When we get to the table Oz waits for me to sit before he settles in on the other side of the booth. It's a little bit of a squeeze for him and I can't help but look at the paunch of his gut that pushes into the table. He sucks in before readingjusting himself. There's a hint of a blush on the top of his hears and I can't help but feel bad for the slight look of discomfort on his face.

I smile to reassure him, “We got in pretty quickly…did you threaten someone?” I tease.

“Nah, just called in a favor from an old friend.” the change of direction seemed to help.

“Let me guess. A friend of a friend of a friend?”

He laughs and folds his arms over his stomach, “You just think you're hot shit, don't ya?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.”

“At least you're honest about it.”

"Of course! I would never lie to you Oz.” I say in mock offense.

He snorts, his mouth pulling into a brief, sideways smile.

The two of us fall into a companionable silence as we look over the menu. I ended up ordering a small platter of mixed enchiladas while Oz ordered a sizable steak with veggies and a bottle of wine for us to share. We made short work of the wine as I chatted about work, mostly ranting about the annoying assholes that grace the club and how my landlord wouldn't come to fix my damn dishwasher.

I had a pleasant little buzz but it appeared Oz was able to hold his drink better than me. That was okay though, as he continued to let me rant freely.

“The asshole had the audacity to look surprised when one of the twins kicked him out.”

“You seemed to handle it pretty well though.”

“Had to,” I pause, raising my eyebrows slightly, “Wouldn't want to get fired by you, Mr. Boss Man.”

“Hmm, I wouldn't fire you, you're the best bartender I've had in a long while.”

There's a long pause, before “It is…plus if I got rid of you, who else would I have to talk to?”

“You've got a club full of people to talk to every night.”

“That's true but I like talking to you the most,” he says.

I stare at him.

“Are we friends?”

He stares back and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise and my hands becoming clammy.

But then I notice something, he's just as surprised by the sudden question as I am.

“Yeah - uh - at least I think we are.

“Good, I like being your friend Oz.”

#Oswald Cobblepot #oswald cobblepot x reader #The Penguin #the penguin x reader #oz cobblepot #Oz!penguin #colin farrell penguin #Colin!penguin #red is the color of temptation

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frozenprocedural · 1 year

Text

TDOE Day 6- Four Christmases

Here’s Day 6! Thanks to @bepoets for giving me the Christmas pumpkin idea. And as always, Alarik and Neta belong to @patricia-von-arundel.

Four Christmases

Rating: K

"Erhm, Anna, what… what is this?."

Alarik gingerly held out the misshapen object, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. At closer inspection, he realized it was supposed to be some sort of stuffed pumpkin, albeit one of the most ugly ones he’d ever seen. Lumps and bumps covered the neon-orange skin. It had a face, with giant lips and two- no, three- beady black eyes. But the strangest feature was a tiny sprig of holly, made of felt, that was hot-glued onto the base of its stem.

“Oh! You found Wilfred!” Anna reached out and gently took the pumpkin, straightening the holly.

“Wilfred!?”

“Yep! Wilfred Jenkins, the Christmas pumpkin! Isn’t he just adorable?”

" 'Adorable' is not a word anyone would use." Kristoff grumbled. He grunted when Anna elbowed him.

"He's also a Christmas tradition. So there."

"You only got it four years ago!" Kristoff argued.

"That's four Christmases! And he's a tradition for Neta at least! I found him at a craft fair shortly before Neta was born."

At the sound of her name, Neta looked up from the garland she was playing with. When she saw Wilfred, her face lit up.

"Wilfred Jenkins!"

Neta rushed over, picking up the pumpkin and cuddling it close. Alarik felt his mouth fall open. Beside him, Elsa chuckled.

"That's slightly terrifying." Alarik said.

Anna stuck her tongue out at him.

……..

Alarik woke to an empty bed, not that it was too surprising for him. Elsa was always an early riser, even on the weekends. He went through his morning routine, shuffling downstairs to the kitchen, still not entirely awake. When he reached for the coffee maker, he found the pot filled with something other than coffee.

"GAH!"

Alarik leapt back, staring at the face of Wilfred, who was stuffed into the coffee pot.

"ANNA!"

"Wasn't me!"

He spun around, glaring at Anna's grinning face. "Oh!? Then are you suggesting it grew legs and walked!?"

Anna chuckled, pulling Wilfred out of the pot. "You never know…" she said in a sing-song voice. "And he, not it, thank-you-very-much."

"Just keep him away from me." Alarik grumbled as he rinsed the pot out.

Three times, just to make sure.

…….

It became some sort of macabre game- Alarik determined to catch Anna in the act, and her just as determined to place Wilferd where he least expected it, but would inevitably find it.

The bathroom. The box of wrapping supplies. One day he even woke to the beady eyes staring back at him.

Only Neta, holding Wilfred close and pouting, had kept him from tossing it into the fire.

Each time, Anna teased that it wasn't her.

By Christmas morning, Alarik was a frazzled mess. So far, he hadn't found Wilfred, and some small part of him hoped that even Anna would not try to scare him on such a day.

A much larger part knew she would.

But when he came into the room, Wilfred was hung on the tree, right in view. Alarik let out a sigh of relief, happy to see that the game was over. He settled next to Elsa, who gave him a peck on the cheek and cuddled into his side.

By the time they were nearly through gift-giving, Alarik had forgotten about Wilfred. He was interested in the present for him that Elsa had immediately pushed to one side, insisting he open it last. Finally, it came time, and she deposited it in his lap, a smile forming across her face.

"I think you'll like this one."

Alarik raised an eyebrow, but set to tearing away the paper, unwrapping a nondescript white box. He opened the lid to find…

"GGGGGAAAAAHHHH!"

Alarik leapt off the couch, flinging the box away. Out rolled an identical copy of Wilfred, down to the glued-on holly leaf. The room erupted in laughter, Anna's the loudest of all.

"I told you it wasn't me!"

"Elsa!?" Alarik yelped, taking in her red face. "You hid him!?"

Elsa nodded, wiping away a tear. Anna punched the air.

"You called Wilfred 'him'! Ha! I knew he'd grow on you!"

"Yeah, like a fungus." Alarik leaned down and picked up the pumpkin, eying it.

"I'm sorry Alarik, but your reactions were so funny. I couldn't help it." Elsa was still chuckling.

Alarik sighed, carefully placing the ornament on the table.

"You have come up with a name!" Anna said. When he hesitated, Anna began chanting "Name! Name! Name!", with Neata joining in.

"Fine!" Alarik put his hands up. "Just give me a second!" He stared at the pumpkin, until a name came to mind.

"Meet Eustace Gopnik."

#elsarik #tdoe #tdoe 2022

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moonshine-nightlight · 4 months

Note

Will all of Dale out, I took the time over the past few days to reread all of it (pretty much all I did because sleep work and eat!) And oh man, I wish I could experience it anew again! To see how far you as a writer had come during the entirely of this, and seeing how sana and Dale grew and changed together.. it was just so well done!

Do you have plans to visit them again, in the future? Couldn't help but notice some things were left unfinished ;) and also I would LOVE to hear certain parts of the story from Dale's perspective. Those last few chapters when we finally *finally* got to peer into who he really is just made me want more!

And again, thank you for all the time and effort you put into this series. I don't think I'll ever forget it! (I also really like some of your shorter series, I went back to read them again too!)

@watch-out-for-them

thanks for sending this in! that's so sweet! i've hoarded this for a month because december flew by so fast

i do have some idea for little bonus stories and for full stories that take place in the same universe/setting (with a name-drop or mention of Dale and Sana etc), but no proper sequel is currently planned. One of the bonuses would be what you mentioned - specifically Chapter 6 (Walk in the Garden) from Dale's POV - as well as other ideas. it is hard to write companions stories from another POV if the main POV is 2nd person lol. I've helpful sorted my handful or ideas into categories because i lov to organize in excel instead of writing (the categories are: pre, mid, & post story; AU; Parody; and Outside POV)

one in particular i wanted to get out before the year ended, but i'm not quite done with it. originally after Chapter 24 (Assassin Aftermath) Sana was going to have a spicy dream about Dale, which is referenced in Chapter 25 as having happened, but which was originally going to be in the story proper. however, not only was a behind in writing with the story ending up longer than i planned, but it became hard to figure out how it would work since Sana thought Dale knew but he didn't and i didn't want be to get confused about that, also Sana wouldn't know the truth of how the Depths worked or Dale's backstory so i couldn't include much of that (because i didnt want ppl to think Dale could lik dreamwalk etc or something). It jsut got to be a weird balancing act that i didnt have time to figure out so i didn't. however, i decided to make a bonus/AU divergence where I changed the fight scene and did have Dale come to talk to Sana after the fight alone and stuff~ happens~.

this side path/AU story is what i wanted to get out over the holidays and which i have made progress on, but still isn't finished. i will try to get it out within the week (the modified end-of-fight to have an obvious reveal is done and i might put out today or tomorrow since its just a tweaked chapter 23). I've got over 3k for the new chapter and have been making progress, it just will not be done today lol

thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask! getting messages and comments and tags like this make all the effort worth it! ^^

#asks #nothing's wrong with dale #dale bonus #story status #news on writing #this bonus will probably b the last think i write/post before the Work Time begins #where i will be unavailable for lik min 3 months lol

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orionsstory · 10 months

Text

New York Nights (3) (Rosénali)

A/N: exposition chapter who cheered !!! this one is basically just worldbuilding. ngl its crazy to see how my writing has changed in just a year originally published: Jan. 31, 2022 ----- Chapter Three: Back to Work --

The week following her nightmare, Denali didn't go out much. Jackie made sure of that. Hell, it took 3 days for her to let Denali go to the rink. Thankfully, Jan pulled through and distracted Jackie so Denali could teach her skating lessons. "Denali...I'm just worried." Jackie told her, "You were shaken up after your nightmare, are you sure you can't just cancel the lesson?" After much back and forth, Jackie obliged and Denali headed to work. Her day went well, and she felt more at ease after the nightmare. However, that didn't mean Jackie was eager to let her go patrolling again.

"Oh come on Jackie! I'm fine! See?" Denali whines, producing a snow cloud from her hand. "No snow in the house, 'Nali!" Jackie swatted the snow away, "But what happens if something happens to you? What if you feel okay at first but then you freak out? You're my best friend. I can't stand to see you get injured." Jackie placed a hand on her friend, the worry showing on her face. Denali laughed, "I'll just call Tina to save me. Well, she'd probably just drop me. I'm getting more popular than her." Jackie tried to hide her laughter, but she failed and burst out in laughter. "See? I'm okay, really Jackie! I'll even come home earlier tonight if you want me to!" Jackie sighed, "No, it's no use. If you say you're ready, then you are. But be careful!" Denali eagerly nodded, bounding off to go get her costume. "Denali! It's only 6 pm! You can't go out yet!" Jackie called after her.

After 3 more painstaking hours of waiting, 9 finally hit, and Denali couldn't be out the door faster. Jackie had to run to keep up with her! "Just remember..." Jackie huffed out, trying to catch her breath. "Yes, yes 'Be safe, Denali!' 'Don't die, Denali!' I get it, Mom!" Denali shoved her jacket into Jackie's hands and put her mask on. Eagerly, she ran towards the ledge and waved goodbye to Jackie as she leaped off the ledge, into the sky. She flew around the buildings, laughing and cheering as she glided past windows and clouds. She felt energetic and free- like she could do anything! Maybe she'd even kick Rosé's ass if she was lucky.

After several minutes of flying, Denali ran into a familiar woman dressed in red, orange, and yellow. "Hi, Tina!" She chirped. "Ice Queen," Tina smirked, "you look chipper today. It's nice to see you out again!" Tina Burner, a superhero who couldn't have hidden her identity if she wanted to. Her vibrant red hair and love of red, orange, and yellow made her well-known wherever she went. Her powers stemmed from, big shocker, fire manipulation- meaning she was Denali's worst enemy in theory. In actuality, Denali really enjoyed working with Tina. "Hey, I was going to city hall to help a newbie register- wanna help me out? I'll need someone with me so I don't go insane." Normally, Denali would have refused. She remembered what registering was like, and was not a massive fan of the process. However, this was not a normal day, and thus she and Tina Burner were headed to city hall.

The two soon arrived, exchanging small greetings with the secretary as she opened the door behind her desk for them. "She's in there," she addressed Tina, "She's filled out everything we need from her, now it's just your turn." Tina gave the woman thanks as they headed through the door and into one of the side rooms. "Hi there," Tina greeted, "I'm Tina Burner, and this is Ice Queen! We're here to help you out with your hero stuff." The girl turned around. Denali looked her over, she had a curly, light orange afro and doe-like blue eyes. She was dressed in a pastel blue leotard, with matching gloves that nearly went up to her shoulders and thigh-high boots of the same color. She wore a simple mask that covered her eyes. She looked like she was younger than Denali, maybe even a college freshman.

"Oh, hi!" she chirped. "Okay, so you've already filled out all the information the government needs, right? Do you have any questions about that?" Tina asked the girl. "Oh, well uh...about all that, how does that really work? I mean, I wanna keep my identity a secret, but I also want to be officially recognized as a hero...uhm," she stuttered. "Ah, you're asking whether or not they're gonna out your information, right?" the shorter girl nodded, "Well, it works in two different ways. For me, my hero identity is public- my hero name is my real name, and it's not a secret that I'm a hero. So, they just have my information on record in the system." She nodded along, hanging onto Tina's every word. "For someone like you or Ice Queen," she gestured to Denali, "your personal information goes under lockdown, which means only certain trusted individuals can even access the information, and most of the time they don't need it. Unless you need your costume made or changed...do you?" She shook her head no. "Perfect!" Tina smiled at her.

"So, the next order of business is filling out this." Tina pointed to the piece of paper the girl was holding. "First and easiest, what name have you chosen to go by? This will be how people recognize and identify you, so think carefully. You don't want to regret it later on!" Denali rolled her eyes as Tina glanced back at her, "My name is fine, Tina. I think it sounds regal!" The two laughed as the young hero pondered momentarily, "Lux." She finally said, "That'll be my name!" Lux smiled, and Tina nodded approvingly. "Alright then Lux, next you just need to fill out what your powers do, and then you should be registered in a day or so!" Lux grinned, excitement was practically oozing out of her. "Say, what are your powers?" Denali asked her, pushing herself to sit on the nearby desk."Oh, I can control light! Watch!" Holding up her hand, in a swift motion, all the light was pulled from the room. Lux had morphed it into a ball in the palm of her hand, throwing it up and down, and then with a flourish of her wrist, the ball broke apart and the light returned to the room. Denali exhaled a wow, as Tina nodded, "Impressive!" Lux beamed again, and Denali noticed how bright her smile was. "With how much light is in New York, you're gonna be a force to be reckoned with, kid." Denali complimented her.

And so, with all of the paperwork wrapped up, Denali bid Tina and Lux goodbye as she kicked off into the air. The ordeal had only taken about an hour and a half, which meant she still had time to do other things. Resuming her patrol, her mind wandered back to Rosé- the pink-haired woman had been on her mind a lot these days. Denali hates how charismatic the other woman is, it makes it impossible for her to hate her. She scolds herself, she shouldn't think of a villain this way! Rosé has probably committed countless crimes, Denali can't go easy on her just because she's charismatic! She massaged her temples as she tried to shake the other woman out of her head, determined to not let Rosé interrupt her work. Thankfully (or not), a scream from below interrupted her thoughts.

Denali touched down on the ground in seconds and whipped her eyes around before settling on the commotion. A woman was trying to separate herself from a man clinging to her. Denali marched over and pulled the two off each other, stepping in between them. "What's the problem here?" She asked the woman, who looked like she had been crying. "My ex-husband ambushed me on my way home!" she choked out, "He said he was going to hurt me!" Denali looked at the man, who was clearly intoxicated. "Give me one second, ma'am." She told her, turning to the man she froze his feet in ice, preventing him from moving. Quickly searching him, she found a knife, which she confiscated from him. Denali turned back to the scared woman, "I'm going to call the police to come to get him, and after that, I can personally escort you home." she tried her best to comfort the woman, who nodded and sniffled.

It didn't take long for the police to arrive and take the man away. Denali explained the situation to the officers before handing them the knife she had found on him. "She'll need to drop by the police station tomorrow to make a statement, will you tell her that?" The officer asked her, "Of course." she nodded. Soon, the officers left with the man in tow. "You said you live 10 minutes away, correct?" the woman, now much calmer, nodded. "Okay, here, I'll just fly you back, it'll be quicker." Denali lifted the woman into a bridal carry and took off into the sky. The woman gasped, enthralled by what was happening around her, and Denali smiled a little, it reminded her of how she felt the first time she flew. Soon enough, they landed at the woman's apartment complex. She led Denali up to her apartment, where Denali repeated what the officer told her and left her with other helpful information, such as where to get a restraining order. She nodded, profusely thanking her for saving her. "What's your name?" she had asked her. "Oh, I'm Ice Queen." The woman nodded, "Well, thank you Ice Queen. I'm truly grateful." Denali smiled, "It's really no problem ma'am!"

Denali left soon after, kicking off once more into the sky, looking for some action. Still as energized as ever, she eagerly looked around for something to do. It took about 20 minutes, but eventually, she (literally) ran into another hero she recognized, a black woman with a signature white and teal swirled jumpsuit- Peppermint. "Watch out! Oh, Ice Queen!" Peppermint warmly greeted, "How are you? It's been a while!" Denali steadied herself in the air, holding onto Peppermint for support. "Yeah, sorry about that...I took off for a bit because of an injury. It's nice to see you again, Pep! How've you been?" The other woman sighed and ran a hand through her poofy brown hair, "Well, could be better. I've been kicking ass all night, and now I've got another one." Denali laughed, "Are you kidding? That sounds awesome. I wish I knew how you found so much work, I'm lucky if I find 2-3 things to do per night!" Peppermint stared at her, confused. "Do you not have the earpiece?"

"What? What earpiece?"

"The one connected to police scanners. It sends out reports of where crime is happening based on your locations, you can radio in that you're going to check it out, or if you need backup."

Denali went silent, "I'll take that as a no. I can get you one after this. Here, come help me with this, it shouldn't take long!" Peppermint tugged her along, and the two were flying through the city as Peppermint gave her a rundown of the situation. "Apparently someone's causing a ruckus over by the harbor, we don't know if it's a villain or not, but they want us to check it out just in case." Denali nodded, "Sounds fun. Maybe it'll just be a cat." Denali laughed. "I wish. That'd be easy! Here, it's down on the left, follow my lead!"

Peppermint touched down on the ground first, Denali following behind shortly. "Fan out and scan the area and yell if you see anything. This place is pretty big." Peppermint whispered to her. Denali nodded in response before heading left. She looked around- rows and rows of boxes stacked taller than she thought safe. 'Someone's probably after something in one of these...several boxes.' she thought, quietly walking the rows. It felt almost like a maze, the dark sky, and the nearby lampposts just barely allowing her to see what was in front of her. She crept quietly through the dark, hand brushing against the boxes to help guide her. She felt goosebumps creep up her skin, the silence and the darkness made her feel uneasy. She didn't know how long she had been walking the area, she couldn't see anything disturbed or moved. "I hope Peppermint is having more luck..." she whispered under her breath.

After 35 minutes with nothing amiss insight, Denali concluded her area was clear. She started trying to find Peppermint, wandering the rows and rows of boxes traveling farther right. The entire place was silent, the only noise she heard was her heartbeat. Suddenly, the silence was broken by Peppermint's whistle piercing the air. Denali sprang into the air, searching for a glimpse of Peppermint or someone else. Luckily, it didn't take long. She heard the sounds of fighting off to the right and flew over toward the commotion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glimpse of Peppermint's ice breath and dived towards it.

She touched down, two men were fighting Peppermint, with a third frozen in the background. "Ice Queen!" Peppermint jumped back, "There's a fourth who took off with some item, go find him! I can take these two! He went to the left, go!" Peppermint dodged as one of the men threw a punch. "Got it!" Denali yelled, once more flying into the air and heading towards the left. It didn't take her long to spot a man running towards the edge of the docks. Denali dropped down in front of him, sending a blast of ice toward him. He sped out of the way, hitting Denali as he sped past.

"Superspeed..." she groaned, quickly jumping to her feet and sliding after the man. She coated the ground with ice, skating along as she caught up with the man. She saw him preparing to run, so she stomped her foot in an attempt to stop him. As soon as her boot hit, ice sprung up all around her, vastly climbing and encasing the man in a cold tomb. "Oh thank god, that took less time than I thought it would." She sighed, "Sorry. That may have been a bit overkill." She apologized to the man, whose ice prison reached higher than the boxes around him.

After she had chipped away some of the ice around him, she carefully took the item from his hand. Examining it, it was a small beat-up-looking hard drive, it had no labels on it, nothing to indicate what was inside. 'Weird' she thought to herself, tucking it into her pocket for safekeeping. In the distance, she heard the sounds of police sirens approaching, Peppermint or someone nearby must have called them. After making sure the man was secure, she made her way back to where she had seen the other woman earlier. Rounding a corner, she spotted her tying the other three men up.

"I see you don't need any help!" Denali laughed, Peppermint turning her head towards her. "Did you find anything on him? Denali held up the hard drive in response, and Peppermint smiled. "Nice!" she walked over and examined the device. "There doesn't seem to be any identifying features as to what it could be," Denali explained, "what do you think?" Peppermint turned the drive over in her hand once more, "Hmm...I'm not sure. Best to leave it to the police, if they find anything important we need to know about, they'll contact us." Denali nodded.

The two handed over the hard drive to the police and helped the officers load the men into the police car. "Thank you, ladies," the officer shook their hands, "we really appreciate your help. If we find anything, we'll let you know. Have a safe night!" and with that, she waved to the two as she and the rest of the police left. "So...let's go get you that earpiece!" Peppermint chirped as she took Denali's hand, and once again led her to somewhere in the city.

Denali returned home around 1 am with a new earpiece. She opened the door, only to be scared by Jackie immediately as she entered. "Oh my god, Jackie!" she breathed out as Jackie shoved her inside, "You scared me!" Jackie took her mask and examined her face, before breathing a sigh of relief. "See! I told you I'd be okay! You don't have anything to worry about!" Denali laughed, a small smile creeping onto Jackie's face. "Okay, maybe I was a little overdramatic. I'm happy you're okay. You should get some rest, don't forget you still have a degree to earn!" Jackie turned towards her bedroom before stopping, "Oh! That reminds me, actually, Jan and her sisters have a show this weekend- do you wanna go with me?"

Denali didn't even hesitate, "Sure!" she chirped. Jackie gave her a big smile before disappearing to her room. Turning off the living room lights, Denali headed towards the bathroom and began getting ready for bed. She thought about the show as she brushed her teeth, she was excited to see Jan and meet Lagoona, even if it meant she had to deal with Rosé for longer than she'd like. Going to bed, she felt a lot better and safer than she had earlier in the week. It felt nice to be back out and helping people, and as she fell asleep, she felt confident in her powers again.

#denali foxx #drag race #rpdr #jackie cox #jan sport #new york nights #rpdr fanfiction #rupauls drag race #rosé #rosenali #rosénali #rpdr s13 #no beta we die like men #i cant believe this was a year ago oh my god #im so tempted to rewrite this story #olivia lux #peppermint #tina burner

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lovemesomesurveys · 2 years

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Will you answer these questions as personally as you can?

I generally do.

Why are you happy?

I’m not, but that’s not new.

Who’s the last person you hugged?

My mom.

Would you pay someone to kill the person who hurt you a lot?

Uh, no.

Do you like the song ‘Sick Little Games’ by All Time Low?

I don’t think I’ve heard that song of theirs.

Last night you felt?

Alright. I watched a movie and went to sleep.

How are you feeling right now?

Right now just tired.

Are you drifting away from someone you were close with?

No.

Is there someone you’d like to fix things with?

I’d like to see certain people again at some point, but not at this time or the foreseeable future. I have a long road ahead of me and I’m focusing on that.

Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap?

Yes.

What are you listening to?

The Golden Girls.

Have you ever stayed in a hotel?

yes, love a good hotel stay <<< Sameeee. I’ve stayed at hotels many times and that’s one of the many things J enjoy about vacations.

What is in your pocket?

I don’t have any pockets, but I never use ‘em anyway.

What was the worst feeling you last felt?

Depressed and scared.

Have a best friend?

My mom.

Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you?

Depends what it is haha.

Do you keep any secrets from your best friend?

Nothing major. I’d say it’s more likely that it would be I just haven’t talked about it/didn’t feel the need to but not because I don’t want her to know, or that I downplay some things.

What were you doing 60 minutes ago?

The nurses were doing their routine things with me.

Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents?

My mom is my best friend, so I answered this already about her. She definitely knows the most and knows me best. My dad and I don’t have a bad relationship or anything but it’s a different one, and there’s more he doesn’t know.

What’s something that can always make you feel better?

Going to the beach.

What do you want right now?

To get better and go home.

What would you name your future son?

I don’t want to have kids.

If you had to eat 1 thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Chicken. You weren’t specific, so I could eat it different ways and flavors as well, but it’s still chicken so it counts as one thing ha.

How’s your life lately?

Not well to say the very least.

Last person to send you a text?

My mom.

What were you doing at 8:00 this morning?

It’s only 6, but most likely I’ll be either attempting sleep or messing around on my phone.

Did you have a good birthday this year?

my bday hasnt passed yet <<< Same, mine isn’t until the end of July. I won’t be able to do anything, though.

Have you done anything embarrassing lately?

Yes.

Do you trust easily?

No.

Do you like cookies n’ cream ice cream?

Yesss.

How often do you raise your hand in class and answer a question?

I avoided that as much as I could.

Ever been mistaken for someone else, and took it as an insult?

No.

Would you get a mega bag of skittles, or three regular ones?

I’ll pass on Skittles, make it M&Ms.

What color shirt are you wearing?

A blue gown.

Is there a boy that would do absolutely everything for you?

My dad and brother.

Did you ever think you had the Swine flu?

No. I was afraid of catching it, though. Who knew what was to come down the road with COVID and it being on much larger scale in all ways.

Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in your presence?

I don’t recall. No one I interact with smoke cigarettes and I haven’t been around anyone else who does in a long time.

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night?

My mom via text.

Are you a mean person?

I don’t think I’m mean, but I do get moody and irritable and can then be short and snippy sometimes.

Does anyone hate you?

Besides myself… I don’t know. I wouldn’t blame them.

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them?

not really, unless they straight up ask me <<< Yeah, but I’d probably downplay it.

This time last year, can you remember who you liked?

I haven’t had feelings like that for someone in quite awhile now. Like seriously, it’s been 6 years now.

Will this weekend be a good one?

Today is already Sunday, but yeah hopefully it ends as good as it can. Basically no major issues and I’m able to rest is the goal.

Have you ever liked someone older than you?

Just by like a year or two.

Are you mad at someone right now?

Myself. Mad doesn’t even cover it. This whole situation could have been prevented if it weren’t for my extremely stubborn ass self and just ignoring so many things thinking I could do it my way. Several people tried and tried and tried numerous times to get me to do certain things and I didn’t. Why??? Many of which wouldn’t have been that bad in hindsight.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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spaghettioverdose · 3 years

Text

*sees the build a bear post*

"Build a bear.... build a bear.... builda bear..... WAIT BUILDER BEAR???? THAT FUCKING SCP NAME MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE NOW"

#only took me lik 6 years #in my defence I never interacted with anything build a bear related I don't think they're even a thing here and definitely don't think #they're a thing where I used to live in romania #on the other hand I definitely heard about them multiple times during that span of 6 years #I mayhaps be a fucking dumbass

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marveldcmistress · 2 years

Text

Alternative Healing Pt. 3

A/N: Here it is y’all!! Sorry for the wait, life has happened and I think the events in this chapter can sum it up better than I could. If you would like to be tagged, please let me know, and if I missed anyone in the tags PLEASE let me know, I don’t want to leave anyone out! Also, tags in bold are the people dumblr wouldn’t let me tag.

Warnings: Anxiety, cursing, talks of parenting and child bashing (because sometimes children are assholes) and jealous bitches

About two months goes by after that night. It's now the end of January, and the weather can't seem to make up it's mind. One day it's sunny and warm, highs in the 60's. The next it's cold and dry, bitter winds whipping in from the north. You don't really mind, just glad to be getting out of the house.

You had quit your job at the barbeque restaurant a few days after you had dinner with Sy. Shitty management and asshole customers had made you snap one night, causing you to walk out. It wasn't the best decision, as you didn't have a job to back it up, but you know your worth, and could find better. Unfortunately, you definitely weren't prepared for barely anything being available in the job market of your small town. A week later depression kicked in, and it took everything you had just to take a shower and feed the cats.

You chose to see the silver lining in it though. Being broke meant not being able to afford food, but that would only really be a problem if you had an appetite. But hey, a month of not eating regularly dropped you 15 pounds. Go you! Getting a start on that weight loss goal. A month of unemployment lead you to a cafe three blocks down the road to you though, looking for a server, and a guarenteed $9/hr plus tips. You're up at 5 every morning to be there at 6, but it's a five minute walk away, giving you a chance to get some exercise in, helping drop even more weight, but you're looking and feeling good.

Your manager was amazing too, very understanding and the perfect balance between boss and buddy. Your coworker, Tina, is so much fun. Funny and professional, she's slowly become your work-mom. You've also taken up tutoring her daughter, Charlie, after work a few nights a week. Things are looking up for you now, and you can't feel any better about it.

You haven't seen Sy, though you can hear him downstairs some nights, football games on the tv or classic rock playing on the speaker when he's outside working on his truck parked in the back. Part of you feels guilty for actively avoiding him during your depressive episode, but another part keeps telling you it was none of his business. You hardly knew the man, and you would rather die than let someone as perfect as him know just how fucked up you are. It just doesn't help that he's in your dreams almost every night, his bright blue eyes, scruffy beard, and deep voice leaving you waking up wet every morning.

It's a beautiful Monday morning, not too cold, a sure sign it's gonna be one of those nice, warm days. There's a slow breakfast rush that fades into a slow morning, picking up for lunch around 12:30. You spent most of the morning unloading the supply shipment that was dropped off that morning, before helping with prep work and stocking your area.

Country music plays overhead, because of course, it's Oklahoma. The lunch rush is just starting to wind down, everyone having been served their food and customers hardly walking in the door. You're busy putting together an online order when one of your regulars comes in.

“Hi, Wes!” you holler from behind the counter, still focused on getting utensils and condiments in the bag. After getting boxes labeled and the bag tied up and ready to go, you grab your order pad and a pen before walking around the conter and across the restaurant to the high top table that your customer sits at.

“Hi, Miss Taylor. How are you today?” Wes says. He's clearly in his older years, late fifties to early sixties if you were to guess, but still buff, looking like he works out on a daily. He wears jeans, boots, a black t-shirt, and black leather jacket. He has a deep voice, reminding you of the handsome devil living below you, with a similar southern twang, though a little watered down with an midwest drawl.

“I'm just fine, Mr. Wes. How are you?” you smile, setting down some silverware and flashing him your dimples. He's by far one of your favorite regulars, always so polite, and a great conversationalist.

“I'm doing just fine. My son is going to join me today.” he says with a small wink. The past month he's been trying to set you up with his son, who he describes as bull-headed and rough around the edges, but has a good heart. Each time you tell him you are perfectly fine being by yourself, that you don't need a man, even going so far as to make a joke about “taking on yet another disappointing burden”. And each time he just laughs and says “more men need a woman they love put them in their place, sometimes.”

“Well, I will go get another menu and set of silverware, then. What can I get you to drink while you wait?”

“I'll just have a water today, dear.” he says. You give him a wink.

“You got it. Be right back.”

You turn away, ready to go get his drink when one of the secretaries from the chiropractor's office next door walks in. Fuck, this bitch. Normally you wouldn't bother dealing with her shitty attitude, but you're in a good mood today, having puffed your dab pen when you went out with the cooks for a smoke.

You hear the bells of the other door behind you, and without even looking, you greet the customer while going around the counter to take Brittany's order. You hear Wes talking as you put the order in the system, but don't bother to look at who it's with. You see a shadow moving out of your periphial vision, and as you look up to hand the secretary her money, your heart stops dead in your chest.

“Sy?!” you almost yell. He's smiling, obviously amused at your surprise. Brittany looks up from her wallet and turns around, putting on a clearly fake smile, flipping her hair.

“Logan Syverson. I haven't seen you in a minute. Looking great.” Her voice is so sweet it would make anyone sick, and you have trouble hiding your facial expression. Sy's eyes never leave you, though, and his smile gets bigger at your reaction, before barely glancing at the brunette beside him, then immediately coming back to you.

“Been busy. What are you doing here?” he nods to you when he says the question, making it obvious to whom he's addressing.

“Working. What are YOU doing here?” you ask. You finally give him a good look up and down. He's wearing jeans, work boots, and a black t-shirt. His arms are covered in grease, but his hands and wrists are clean. His beard is just as scruffy as you remember, but it's clear he's shaved and kept it tamed. His hair had grown some, maybe two or three inches, not terribly long but enough it's starting to curl at the ends.

“Having lunch with my dad.” he points his thumb behind him at Wes, and that's when it finally hits you. Putting them side by side, you wonder why you didn't see it sooner. Sy looks like his father in so many ways, but the mannerisms are almost identical.

“I'm sorry, how do you know each other?” Brittany interrupts. You both look to her, and it's clear that Sy and yourself forgot she was even there. She's looking between you both, giving him heart eyes and you dirty looks. Sy glances back at you, before turning to her.

“We're neighbors. She lives above me.” Then turns back to you, giving the indidcation he's done with any conversation she might pull him into. She shoots you with one last glare before walking away and out the door. You just roll your eyes, not willing to waste your energy on her jealousy. You turn your attention back to Sy.

“Why don't you join your dad at the table and I will get your guys' drinks. What do you want?” you ask, reaching for two cups before moving to walk back around the counter to get their drinks.

“I'll just have a water.” he says, grabbing a menu from the stack by the register and walking back to the table while you fill both cups with ice and water. You trying to keep your hands from shaking as you walk over to their table, eyes on the floor as you prepare yourself for the whorlwind that Logan Syverson causes on your insides.

“I was just telling Logan here that the special today is fantastic.” Wes said, flashing you the same smile his son throws at you. You just smile.

“It's kinda hard to mess up nachos.” you say. Both men chuckle, and you look down, cheeks getting hot. You pull out your pen and notepad, before taking a deep breath and looking up.

“What can I get you guys?” you ask, deciding the best way to deal with your nerves is to distract yourself with work.

“I want the special, no jalapenos or avocado.” Wes orders. You write it down, before looking up at Sy. His blues pierce into yours, and you lose yourself for just a second, before paying attention to his order.

“I'll have the special too, extra jalapenos.” he says, before giving you his version of a wink, smirking when your face goes red.

“You got it guys. I'll bring that out when it's ready.” you say, before turning around quickly and nearly running away. Get ahold of yourself, woman. You're a grown adult of 23 years of age. You shouldn't be distracted by some guy you've met a couple times.

After putting in the order, you get started on making it, throwing chips onto the baking pan before the meat and beans and cheese. As those bake, you decide to clean off the counter and wipe it down. Pulling out the nachos and finishing the topings, you take out the orders for your crush (you hate to call him that, but essentially that is what he is to you) and his father (again holy shit) with your best service smile.

Sy watches you go, unaware of the stupid, dopey grin on his face. He wasn't really looking forward to lunch with his dad, not having had much sleep the night before and had already gotten into it with his brother. His truck was giving him a hard time during a tune up that morning and his day had really gone to shit when Aika tore up a stuffy toy and left cotton all over his living room. He couldn't be mad at the dog, she was going through an adjustment period to civilian life as well. But he thought fuck it, at least he doesn't have to cook.

When he walked in and saw you at the counter, though, he thought maybe his day hadn't completely gone to hell just yet. He felt a mild panic at seeing Brittany though. He'd had a drunken one night stand a month before his last deployment, and the entire time leading up to him leaving she had called and text so many times he changed his number.

Still, he couldn't be too scared when you were standing right there. The whole two months he hadn't seen you were disappointing for him. The first month he was busy adjusting his life and his schedule, while also starting a side business refurbishing old furniture. He would take Aika out every morning and evening and look up to your apartment, hoping to spot you somewhere. He had wanted to come see you, but didn't want to be a bother.

The second month he just couldn't seem to catch you. He would hear you coming down the stairs in the back early in the morning, but you're always gone by the time he gets to his back door. He hears you at night now, but the footsteps always go quiet around 10.

“Pretty little thing, isn't she?” Sy is snapped back into his reality when his father's voice finally registers in his brain. He turns so quickly his neck pops, audibly. Wes raises his brows, a small smirk coming across his face. Sy smirks right back.

“That's the neighbor I was telling you about.” Sy's smile gets even bigger at his father's falling face. He had mentioned on a few occassions the hippie living in the apartment above him. His father was the time of hippies and classic rock, so while he was still old fashioned, he was open minded.

“That's the neighbor?”

“Yep.”

“I'll be damned.” Wes mumbles, then changes the subject. “How's your day been, Sy?”

“Complete bullshit. Aika is going through some anxiety issues being back and my truck is giving me shit.” he mutters. The older man looks at the younger one beside him, knowing he's not telling the whole truth.

“And how's your brother?”

Sy groans and rolls his eyes. Leave it to his father to bring up his biggest pain in the ass lately.

“Still trying to pretend his wife hasn't stolen his balls.” Wes chuckles at this. Though he and his ex-wife weren't always on the best of terms when it came to being romantic partners, their co-parenting skills were top notch for their generation. So much so that Wes had taken care of Sy's half brother since he was a child and his father had left Sy's mother.

“You'll learn one day, son.” Wes comments, before leaning back in his seat and lets you sit down his lunch. Sy watches you set his food down as well, amused that you refuse to look him in the eye. You looked extra good today, in your blue and green tie-dye shirt and a green bandana around your head. Your make-up is what his niece would describe as “on point” and you were wearing teal and white beaded earrings. You had your hair pulled up in a bun and he had to stop himself from getting hard at the choker around your neck, a turquiose stone sitting in the hollow of your throat and two thin bands holding it in place.

“Thank you, darlin.” he says. You finally look up at him, eyes shining in the sunlight coming in through the windows.

“You're welcome, Sy. Enjoy your lunch, guys.” You give a smile and nod to Wes, before glancing at Sy once more and turning away to go back to work. He watches you walk into the back room, and only when he can't see you anymore does he dig into his lunch.

“So what has he been doing now?” his father asks, not letting this specific topic go. Sy finishes his bite of food, keeping in mind the manners his momma taught him.

“Just the nagging from his wife. I know I told him I'd rather go through him for work but with the way she runs it, it's killing us both. Nothing I do is ever good enough for her and he's tired of hearing it from both ends. Quite frankly I'm about to start looking for another job and place to live.”

Wes nods along as he listens to his son, munching quietly on a chip.

“You knew going into this it was only going to be temporary. Working for family is never easy, let alone family that is difficult to get along with. Have you thought about what you're going to do?” Sy sits quietly for a second.

“There's a few options. Work for the oil refinery here in town, breaking my back out there. There's the Sober Brother's construction, they pay good money but they hire a bunch of idiots. Or I can live off my retirement fund from my discharge, though that's really my worst case scenario option.”

“I'm sure you'll find something. What about your living situation?”

Sy smirks.

“Well you've met one of my neighbors, I can't really complain too much. Though the people that moved in across from me are starting to be a bother, letting their spawns of Satan run around at all hours of the night screaming and shaking the house.”

“You'll figure it out, son. You always do.” Wes winked at Sy, and after conversation turned to football and cars. Sy told his dad what he was doing with his truck, and Wes told his son about the motorcycle he was working on. Soon the baskets were empty and the men were full.

“You should go talk to her before you leave.” Wes's voice was so quiet Sy barely heard him. Barely.

“Right, dad. A girl that peaceful and bright would go great with a messed up jarhead like me.” he mumbles.

“She might just be right amount of light to balance out this darkness in your life, son.” Wes says. Sy looks up, his blue eyes the mirror of his father's, though lacking the wisdom that comes with the experiences of a long life.

“Maybe.” he says. His father claps his shoulder, before getting up and putting on his leather jacket. Sy stands as well, pulling out his wallet and leaving a $20 bill on the table. Wes gives him a look.

“What? I'm not gonna be that jackass that doesn't tip but expects to hit it.” His father just gives a proud smile in response. Both men walk to the counter, the elder of the two pulling out his billfold while you walk back out to the counter.

“Tabbing out?” you ask.

“Yes ma'am. Stuffed ourselves full. Those nachos never fail.” Wes says. You laugh lightly, pulling up his ticket and telling him his total.

“I'm glad you liked them. They're like the fiftieth order I've made today.” Sy perks up at this.

“You made those?” You look up from counting change, making brief eye contact before going back to the money in your hand.

“Yeah, they're pretty easy.” you mumble.

“You never told me you had any culinary skills.” He puts on a light, LIGHT, seductive tone, keeping aware of his father standing next to him. Though his father taught him everything he knows about flirting and pleasing women.

“You never asked.” you said, finally showing him that wit he knew you possessed. He smirked right back, determined to get rid of those nerves of yours. Wes takes this as his cue to leave, taking his change, wishing you a good day and a “see you later” to his son. With the departure of his father, Sy's full attention is now directed on you.

“Haven't seen you around here lately. How've you been?” he asks. It wasn't until then that he realized, for not really knowing you, he's missed your prescence. Just something about your energy soothes him. But then it's like watching a marianette doll being jerked by the strings, because your back goes ramrod straight, and your breath gets shorter, if the way your chest movements have gotten faster are any indidcation. You clear your throat.

“Yeah, I uh.... I've been going through some shit, here lately. Haven't been doing much of anything other than work.” you say.

“When did you start working here?” he asks. He wants to pry, wants to know what kind of shit you've been going through. It's gotta be something, if you're behaving this way. But he knows it's not his business. Yet.

“About a month ago.” you say, walking backwards to the sanitzer bucket, deciding to multitask by cleaning while talking to Sy.

“How's it treating you so far? What happened at the last place?” You raise your brows at his rapid fire questions.

“I quit the last place, got sick of the entire management team and overall shittiness of a corporate chain restaurant. Found this cute little place that actually cares about it's employees. The pay is decent and it's not that far of a walk to work.” you say, keeping your eyes on the counter. You see one of the cooks giving you and Sy the side eye but decide to ignore him.

“You walk to work?” Sy asks. When the weather decides it wants to be cold that day, sometimes it gets to single digits. You must freeze half the time you go to work.

“Yeah, it's only three blocks from here. Plus it's great exercise. I've already lost 10 pounds.” You stand up straight and put your hands on your hips, showing off a slightly slimmer waist than he remembers. Not that it would make you any more or any less beautiful to him. You're still curvy and vivacious, with thighs he would love to die burried in.

“Congrats to you.” he says with a small smirk.

“Why thank you!” you say in a dramatic flourish. He just chuckles lowly.

“What time are you out of here?” he asks. You look at the clock on the wall.

“I get off in another hour or two. Why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. But instead of answering your question, Sy just asks you another.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Now you're really eyeing him.

“Just doing laundry and dishes. Why???” You emphasize your last question heavily. He just gives you a shit eating grin back.

“Wanna have dinner again?” That really catches you off-guard.

“I don't know, Sy. I've got a lot of chores to do, and I gotta be in early tomorrow to cover for a cook.” you say.

“Come on, darlin. We literally live in the same building, I can come up there and cook and help you do your chores and you can still get to bed early enough to be here bright eyed a bushy tailed tomorrow morning.” He's putting on the full charm now, knowing you'll give in. You hesitate a little longer than he expects and just when he's about to say “forget it” you're nodding.

“Okay, but my house is a disaster.” you say, thinking if you gave fair warning he couldn't turn it back on you.

“It wasn't that bad when I fixed your stove.” he says with a wink. You give a light giggle, rolling your eyes.

“I'll see you later, darlin. Don't work too hard, now.” he says, backing away without taking his eyes off you. You wave bye, not being able to bring forth any words. You watch him walk out the door to his truck, and when he's finally out of sight do you turn, only to be scared half to death by Terri and Tina, both watching with stupid smiles on their faces.

“What?” you ask.

“That was Big Sy.” Tina says.

“Big Sy?” you ask.

“He's a small town hero around here, the Army Captain, Wes's boy. Everyone around town knows him. Good man, good lookin.” Terri says.

“I can't believe you were talking to him, Y/n. He's not really much for socializing.” Tina says.

“Tina, that's the hot neighbor I was telling you about.” you say. Soon your coworker is losing her mind.

“You guys would be so cute together!” she almost yells as you were putting up chairs to sweep and mop the floor.

“Yeah, what a great couple we would make. The decorated, hard-ass Army Captain and the pot-smoking, hippie psychologist. It sounds like a bad fan fiction on tumblr.” you say. Tina laughs, continuing to follow behind you with the broom as you lift the chairs onto the tables.

“Look, I know how you feel about men, and your feminist stand point, but Sy is one of those non-toxic masculine men your always raving about. He's strong and sturdy and gruff but he makes you feel safe.” Her sentence ends on a whimsical sigh, only ruined by the disgusted look on your face.

“Right.” the dry tone of your voice pulls her out of the dramatic scene she caused, and her face contorts into a look of stern, motherly determination.

“You'll figure it out, you'll see.” You just roll your eyes and get to finishing your side work.

It's 4:30 when you get home, and Sy thought he was going to lose his mind. You said you got off work at 3:30 but here it was an hour later and you're just now walking up your steps. As soon as he got home, he hit the shower to wash off all the oil and sawdust on his hands and body, before pulling out some freshly washed jeans and a decent shirt. It was no button up, but it wasn't covered in grease stains so it counted as appropriate for the current occasion. He combed out his hair and added extra deodorant and cologne.

He felt like a teenager again, trying his damndest to be respectful, like a gentlmen, but so horny and turned on by you that it was painful. For two months he hadn't seen you in person, but you plagued his dreams. Visions of your face, with pouty lips that spoke his name so sweetly. Eyes that lit up like the sky in the middle of summer, kisses that burned oh so sweetly into his skin. Words whispered between the sheets, sometimes in his truck, sometimes in his bed.

When he wakes it's to disappointment and pain, morning wood making his cock throb with each fast beat of his pulse. Cold showers became a daily routine, with lots of alone time on Pornhub at night. Sometimes he would hear you shift in bed above him and he'd stop, afraid he was being too loud and woke you up.

He waits breathlessly in his room for you to come downstairs to get him. He knows you're still in your apartment by the footsteps in your room above his head. They move around for about 15 minutes, before the smell of marijuana hits his nose and he hears the water for your bath tub fill up above him.

He watches football for another hour before he hears your footsteps again, moving around in your room. Another 15 minutes and finally he hears your back door shut before your heavy steps start coming down the stairs. He shuts off the tv and tries to act like he hasn't been having a heart attack for 3 hours.

He doesn't even give you the chance to knock, opening the door to see you with your fist raised, a shocked look on your face. Your hair is wet and combed around your face, and you're wearing a black tank top, tan cardigan, and black running shorts. You've taken off your make-up and your face is freshly cleaned. The setting sun makes you glow and it's like he's looking at an angel.

“Uh, hi.” You say, hand still in the air. You give him a strange look.

“Hi, sugar.” he says.

“What's with that dopey look on your face? Did you get a contact high? I know my shit is fire but damn, from upstairs?” you ask, taking your hand down and checking his pupils for dialation, and the whites of his eyes for any redness. He notices your eyes are squinted and you're obviously stoned.

“Nah, darlin. Just happy to see you.” he gives you a big, dopey smile. That's what you've turned him into now. A dopehead.

“Right. You ready to come help me fight this monster mess that is my apartment?” you ask, moving towards the stairs again. He follows without hesitation, making sure his door is really shut. He lets you go up first, allowing you to be four steps ahead, as the stairs are steep and he's trying to remain a man and not an animal. Though with your ass in his face the thought of just burrying his face in those cheeks burns into his memory.

“Alright, I've warned you in advance, so don't judge me.” you say before putting your hands on the door knob. He just rolls his eyes before following you in. The sink is full of dishes, just like last time, and the counter is covered in crumbs and seasoning. He looks into the hallway to the livingroom, and stops dead in his tracks.

“What's with all the boxes and totes?” he asks, pointing down the hall. Your body goes stiff again, but this time he's not gonna back down from getting his answer.

“Oh, I'm uh. I'm moving this upcoming weekend.” you mumble. He whips his head to you. His face is twisted in shock and what you could almost describe as pain. Why is he being more emotional about this than you are?

“You're moving?” it's like his world has stopped spinning. He finally finds a woman interesting and has gotten the encouragement from his father to do something about it and you're moving.

“Yeah, a friend of mine and I are getting a two bedroom.” you calmly explain.

“Why?”

“Because your sister-in-law is a cunt and your brother is a snitch.” you say quickly. He raises his brows.

“Sorry. Um, last month there was a plumbing problem with my kitchen sink. When the plumber showed up he was on the phone with your brother, and he said hi to the cats. Your brother overheard, and told Candace. She said I had three days to get rid of them or I was evicted, so I told her I was looking for a new place. Gave an official thirty day notice on New Year's day and I've been working and saving since. I'm trying to be out by Sunday.” you say. You watch Sy take this in. It slowly starts to process what you're saying. He knows exactly what kind of game she's playing.

“Let me guess, she told you it was disrespectful to the other tenants.” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, how'd you know?” you say.

“That's what she told me about my service dog barking at night to wake me out of a nightmare.”

“Oh shit, Sy. I'm so sorry. What a bitch.” you say.

“Right, where as your cats don't make a sound, and she only barks twice to wake me up, but the people across from me can let their little shit-heads run around all damn night screaming and shaking the house.”

“That's what I said! Those little crotch goblins kept me up all night the other day! I was running on like, two hours of sleep, Sy!” you exclaim, trying to lighten the mood some. You both chuckle at your term for the children in your building, before you move to start getting dishes washed. As you worked, you and Sy talked. You washed and he dried and put away. It was a great system, and even better was your small kitchen allowing him to be so close to you.

“You not like kids?” he asks.

“Actually, I love kids. But what I love more is kids that behave, that have a proper discipline in the household so they don't behave like the neighbors kids, terrorizing an entire building of people and animals because they refuse to listen to their parent.” Sy raises his brows even more.

“Proper discipline? Didn't take the hippie to be the one to spank their kids.”

“Oh god no! But there are ways to discipline a child without raising a hand to them, despite what past generations have to say on 'gentle parenting'. I was a daycare teacher for almost five years, and what they teach us and how it's used in the field is so different.” you say as you continue to scrub down plates.

“What do you mean?” he asks. His father never raised a hand to him, but he did have a problem with his temper and the tone of voice he used, especially after a few too many. It never really bothered him though, if anything it prepared him for the army. Seargents are not kind during bootcamp and any trainings after that.

“So, you can tell a child to stop jumping on the couch cushions all you want, they won't listen for long. All that is teaching him is what NOT to do, but also giving no other option. If you tell them to sit on their asses or they will fall off and hurt themselves, showing them what TO do, and reminding them that their safety is important. If they still don't listen after that, and they fall, then that's what's called a natural consequence, and for people like me, fully drives home the lesson of why we don't jump on the couch cushions.”

“But by allowing him to jump on the couch, aren't you showing him that you don't care about his safety?” he says. You smile, having asked the same question during your training sessions.

“If they're really in danger of being seriously hurt, that's when you can physically interfere. But if you know it's only going to be a small bump on the head or something that can be cured with a band-aid and kiss, then it's best to let them learn themselves. Like I said, some of us have to learn the hard, painful way.”

“So all it's really doing is taking out the negative.” He says.

“Kind of. It's more like guidance and direction rather than orders and tyrany.” you said. He pauses and just watches you work for a second. He had felt it earlier, but in this exact moment it really hits him how at peace he feels when he's near you. It's like the soothing warmth of hot coffee running through your body on a cold winter morning.

You can feel his eyes on you for a second longer than you were expecting, and when you turned to look at him, he had a dazed look on his face. You snap your fingers inches away from his face, giggling when some water droplets splatted him in the face from the snap.

“Are you good? You've been out of it all night.” You're starting to get a dopey look on your face. He's so cute when he's confused, and you love it. He looks like a lost puppy dog sometimes, even with the little head tilt they do.

“I'm fine! Just living in the moment with you.” His smile is soft, his whole face is soft. The creases around his eyes show his age, but that just makes him even more attractive to you. You've always had a thing for older men, but keeping it mostly appropriate. His baby blues are now darkening to a deep gray. You can feel the sudden electricity in the air, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It gets hard to breathe again, and you have to force yourself to look away from him. 'FUCKING PULL IT TOGETHER!'

“Right, anyway, I was thinking about pulling out some meat and making burgers and mac and cheese, if that sounds alright with you.” you say, distracting yourself with washing the last of the dishes in the sink.

Sy pulls back, disappointed that yet another moment has gone by where he waited too long to kiss you. He could see when your brain had started overthinking. Your eyes moved quickly between his, before your breathing got heavier and your body tensed. He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice when he answered you.

“Sounds great.”

You work in silence for a few more moments before Sy finally can't stand it anymore. When he goes to start speaking again, he feels a pressure on his ankle and lower calf. He looks down to see Stella, your black cat, rubbing all over him. She's sleek and shiny, kept in good health if her slightly bigger tummy is any indidcation. She looks up at him, her bright green eyes looking right into his soul.

You feel Stella move between your leg and Sy's, and look down to see her giving Sy her big green eyes. You feel more than see Sy put the drying towel on his shoulder before bending down to pick her up.

“Careful with her. She doesn't much like being held.” you say, nervously hovering near your pet and the hulking man beside you. But to your surprise, she cuddles right into his neck, her purrs so strong you can hear them from just a foot away.

“That's so weird. She hardly lets me pick her up, let alone cuddle like that.” Sy smirks.

“I'm just good with pussy.” You throw your head back to laugh. It was a great pun, you'd admit, but the laughter was to also hide how flustered the inneundo made you.

“Shut the fuck up. She probably just thinks you're going to feed her.”

After a second, your feline decides she's had enough and tries to wriggle free. Sy, trying to ignore the claws in his shoulders, bends down to let her go. She sashays away, graceful elegance with attitude and ego rolled into one spoiled animal.

“I've never seen her behave that way with anyone.” Sy just smiles, glad he got the approval of one lady of this house. Animals have always flocked to him, and he to them. But there was always something with cats that intrigued him. The intelligence in their stare, the lethal grace they possessed as predators even while being as domesticated as they are. They're pushy when they want your attention, and make it very well known through pain when they don't. But yet each and every cat has always at least given him a loving rub.

“Where's the other two?” he asks. You start taking out the hamburger, putting it into a bowl before adding seasonings and mixing it all together.

“Probably hiding. Felix doesn't really care for men and Tivahli (tee-vah-lee) is just anti-human.” Sy furrows his brows.

“Tivahli?”

“Yeah. The little gray tabby I have. When I rescued her, she was still so small that the people I got her from thought she was a boy, and so I believed she was a boy. It wasn't until a month ago I picked her up because she was acting weird and felt her hard nipples. Turns out she was in heat, and going through a bit of a rough time.”

“Where did you get her name?” he asks. It sounded so exotic, but the way it flowed from his mouth just felt right.

“Well I had to rename her, and since Stella is named after the Goddess of Night, I kind of wanted to stick with a theme. Google gave me the name of Cleopatra's cat, and I loved it. So now there are two Goddesses and a queen living in this house.” you say, grabbing some of the meat and rolling it into a ball before slapping it back and forth between hands to flatten it into a patty.

The smacking sound from your ministrations reminds Sy of the slapping of hips during a good, back breaking pounding. He has turn to away from you to hide his growing bulge. 'Pull yourself together, jackass.'

The night goes on and you tell Sy about the house you found as you eat dinner. He loves how bright you shine when you get excited, like a those pretty fairy lights you have hanging in your bedroom. He tells you about his day at work and the hell his truck put him through. Once you finish your meal, drowsiness hits you and you're hiding a yawn behind your hand. The sun had long since gone down, and though it was only 7:30, you had been up over 14 hours and worked 10 of them.

“I should probably head out, let you get some sleep.” Sy says, slapping his knee before moving to stand.

“Yeah, I'm exhausted and I gotta be back at 6 tomorrow.” you mumble, moving to stand and follow him out. It's proper manners after all. You follow him to the front door, opening it and stepping out into the hall. Sy turns to face you, and if you weren't so tired, you think you might actually get the nerve to make some kind of move. But it's taking everything in you to keep your eyes open, and Sy isn't about to kiss a woman who is only half awake.

“I guess I will see you around, hopefully.”

“Yeah, I won't be going anywhere until I move.” you say.

“Well if you need any help with that, you just let me know. I got a perfectly good truck. Lots of space in the bed.” He gives his signature double wink.

“I will keep that in mind. Have a good night, Sy.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, lingering for a second or two before gently lowering it and stepping down the stairs. You pull your hand to your chest, using your left hand to shut and lock the door and turn lights out as you walk through the house on auto-pilot, mind in a haze at how soft and plump his lips felt against your hand, the red mark from his beard a visual reminder that it wasn't some twisted dream.

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