rafe loves to hear you talk and talk about things you are so passionate about… <3 a rafe x reader blurb <3 cw: reader is chatty and rambl-y and is insecure about it, in this scenario reader is extremely passionate about japanese legends, lovesick rafe + casually dominant rafe, intentional lower case <3 just something for me to post after a small break as I work on other projects <3 for @zyafics who is one of the biggest reasons I am feeling motivated to write again <3
“oh here’s another one I read about yesterday!” you say excitedly as rafe squeezes your intertwined hands, smiling at you.
“mhm go on,” he smiles as you both continue to walk on the sidewalk, the full moon shining bright down at the two of you.
“this one is about the red thread of fate, this thread connects two soulmates,” you smile at him. he looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.
“connects two soulmates?” he echoes, and you nod.
“yeah,” you say. “it’s said there is a man who lives on the moon who comes to earth to show people their futures and who they’ll end up with. he does that with the help of the red thread of fate. he ties this invisible red thread between the two people who are meant to be together. this thread can tangle over the huge distance between the two people, it can stretch, but it will never ever break, and it will always tighten to bring those two people together.
“it also talks about the existence of a red pencil which can trace this invisible red thread, and this pencil gets shorter with its usage.
“oh and, this thread is always tied between the pinkies of the two people. that is because it was discovered a long time ago that our heart is connected to our pinky finger by an artery, which is now called the ‘ulnar artery’. this artery carries oxygenated blood from our heart to our pinky. so, in a way, our heart is directly linked to our pinkies via this artery, so when we make a pinky promise, we are basically connecting our hearts while making the promise. and that is why the invisible red thread of fate is also connecting our pinkies, because it is basically connecting the hearts of the soulmates, and–”
you take a look to your left at rafe, who’s looking down at the sidewalk as you both walk. you got so absorbed in talking you don’t even know if he is still listening or if he has tuned you out. honestly, who can blame him? since you keep on talking too much, anyone would quickly tune you out.
“oh god i’m doing it again aren’t i?” you say nervously as you stop in your tracks on the sidewalk, causing rafe to stop too. he eyes you with furrowed brows and creases on his forehead.
the actual truth is, rafe was thinking about tying a red thread to your pinkies when you both get home, his mind racing on where he can actually find some red thread in his house.
“doing what?” rafe asks softly.
“the, the ramble thing, where i just talk and talk till my mouth falls off,” you sigh, looking down. “I do that way too much, i don’t even know if you want to hear it or not but I just start speaking with no seeming end to my talk whatsoever, and you have to force yourself to listen to it because you got stuck being my boyfriend. and then i just keep on talking without thinking, it’s like my mouth has a mind of its own, I really should start to think–”
you are immediately cut off with rafe’s lips on yours, your eyes widening as you try to adjust to what is happening. rafe’s free hand comes to rest on your cheek to pull you even closer into the kiss, and your eyes flutter shut, letting you get lost in the feeling of him.
rafe gently pulls apart from the kiss, his eyes barely open as he gazes down at you.
“listen to me…” he says softly. “you don’t talk too much. I love hearing you talk. I love the cute expressions you make when you talk about things you are passionate about. I love how much knowledge you have about them and how you want to share it with me. I love the shine in your eyes when you start to talk, and the shine is even brighter under the moonlight. never ever apologize for talking too much because I won’t hear it, and you’ll only end up getting kissed by me each time. you get it?”
you look up in rafe’s eyes with a stunned expression. for the first ever time, you are at a loss of words, and all you can do is nod.
he smiles softly at you, as his thumb caresses your cheek. “words, baby, you hear me?” he says softly.
“yeah…” you let out. “I hear you,”
“good,” he mumbles. “never apologize again, okay?”
“okay,” you whisper.
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tugs on your hand gently, both of you now walking again. “come on, continue what you were saying,” he says, urging you to continue about the legend you were talking about.
you nod as you clear your throat before resuming to tell him more, this time not allowing even a single thought to let you stop as the stream of words spills from your lips, and rafe only listens in awe, loving hearing what it is you have to tell him.
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The Spiders Sister - Chapter 4
Summary: Reader goes shopping with Pepper, Wanda and Nat. It ends a bit early though when reader starts to struggle with her senses.
TW: overstimulation, flirting, speeding, domestic fluff (hehe)
Words: 3.8K
A/n I changed the floor layout my bad. Also, I planned like 16 chapters of this fic so far and there will probs be more. Now i’m just worried I’ll end up loosing interest and not finishing it 😭 and I’ve been up since 2am. I slept for two hours 💀
After a dinner of pizza and other takeaway foods Tony had bought, Wanda and you headed back to the floor with Peters room.
Stepping out of the lift Wanda led you to where you had been staying for the past few days while Nat went ahead to your new room put sheets on your bed.
Your room would be on the same floor as Natasha and Wanda’s. It was also where Yelena and Kate stayed when they were in town as well as Carol when she was on earth.
You reached the door and headed into peters room. It didn’t take long to gather your things. You grabbed the backpack with some clothes in it, all of which were dirty by now as well as your tablet, computer and sketching supplies.
Once you had shoved most of it into the bag and had your laptop in your arms you followed wanda back out the door.
Despite your very comprehensive tour of the compound, you still didn’t know where you were going.
Wanda and you got back into the lift and set out for your new room.
The lift was filled with idle chatter as Wanda caught you up on the avengers love lives. Tony and pepper were together while the rest were still living the bachelor life.
Feeling a little bold you decided to ask her.
“What about you?” You asked. “Are you seeing anyone?” You clarified when she shot you a confused look.
“Not currently.” Wanda said studying the rarely used buttons on the lift. Jarvis often did all of that for you.
“Ok cool.” You said before stuttering. “I mean not ‘cool’ but its not uncool” you began rambling only cut off by the angelic sound of Wanda’s giggles.
Your cheeks were rosy as she smiled at you.
“Your cute when your flustered.” She said with a wink just as the doors opened and she stepped out. You were frozen for a second before gathering yourself and following her out half a pace behind.
As you trailed after Wanda down the halls she turned to look over her shoulder at you. “You coming sweetheart?” She asked and you nodded speeding up your steps to walk beside her.
As you rounded another corner she slowed. “This is my room.” Wanda said gesturing to a closed door. “And that’s Nat’s.” She gestured to the door next to hers. “This is your room.” She said walking down to the door halfway between Wanda’s and Natasha’s on the opposite side of the hallway.
The door to your room was open as Nat was sat on your freshly made bed with a grin.
“Wondering when you were getting here.” Natasha smirked making Wanda roll her eyes at her.
You stepped into the room. It was large with a king bed and huge windows that let in natural light, or at least it would if it was daytime. It was past evening now and almost nine pm. The New York skyline was just as beautiful, however.
You set your bag and laptop down on the desk before sitting down next to Natasha on the bed.
The walls were white and grey. There was a big desk near the windows and a bedside table on each side of the bed. A door was off to the side which you assumed led to a bathroom. There was also a second door which must have been a wardrobe. Other than a lamp on the bedside and a Tv mounted on the wall, the room was bare.
“We’ll get thing to decorate when we go shopping tomorrow.” Nat said almost as if she could read your mind. More likely she could read your expression and body language.
“Sounds perfect.” You said with a smile.
“Do you have clothes you can sleep in tonight?” Wanda asked and you shuffled your feet before looking up at her.
“Er… no?” You said.
“Are you asking me or telling me sweetheart?” Wanda asked coyly making a blush rise on your cheeks.
“Telling?” You said still sounding unsure of yourself.
“Very well then. I’m sure Nat and I can find something for you to sleep in for tonight.” Wanda said looking to Nat for her opinion. The widow nodded and you felt yourself relax slightly.
“Thank you guys. I wasn’t looking forward to wearing dirty clothes in a clean bed tonight.’ You said sighing in relief.
“Are all your clothes dirty?” Nat asked eyeing your backpack.
“Yeah.” You huffed.
“We’ll find you something to wear tomorrow as well then, just until we can sort out some new clothes and laundry. Sound good?” Nat asked and you nodded.
“Yes, thank you.” You said.
“No need to thank us darling. Your quite welcome.” Nat purred and you felt yourself resist a shiver as her words danced close to your ear. The hair on the back of your neck swaying slightly under her breath as your skin tingled with the heat of her words.
You swallowed trying to regain your composure much to both women’s amusement.
“T-thanks.” You stuttered.
“Already said that darling.” Wanda chuckled and your blush deepened.
“Your so easy to mess with.” Nat said laughing from beside you.
You just glared at them and went to take the things out of your backpack while Wanda and Natasha left to find some clothes for you in their cupboards.
You had just finished setting down the last of your art supplies on the desk when Nat walked in loosely holding a faded black shield T-shirt that immediately knew was hers from how worn it looked. It also looked to be almost two sizes too big for Nat, so you shot her a questioning look.
She shrugged. “Its comfier to sleep in when its too big, and it kept the other boys I trained with back in the day from being able to stare at my ass.” She said with a wink.
“Whats this about Nat’s ass?” Wanda said walking in with a sly grin as your cheeks heated and you buried your face in your hands with a groan.
You heard the two of them high-five and rolled your eyes.
“Here.” Wanda said and you felt the bed dip beside you.
Wanda was holding out a pair of red track-pants which you took with a smile.
A second later Nat threw the shirt at you with a laugh as it landed on your head. You pulled it off and glared at her.
“You’re a menace.” You declared and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand.
“Sure thing sweet cheeks.” Nat said rolling her eyes. “Now it’s bed time kiddo.” She said and motioned for wanda to leave as well.
“Im not a kid Romanoff.” You said and she smirked at the use of her last name, having been able to get under your skin successfully.
Wanda cuffed Nat but she ducked and took off down the hall. Wanda rolled her eyes and sighed. “Ignore her, she’s been drinking too much coffee lately.” Wanda said and bid you goodnight before retreating to capture the other redhead and force her to sleep.
You grinned at the shut door like a lovesick puppy before shaking yourself out of it. You changed into the clothes which smelt like them and made you feel safe.
Sliding under the sheets and getting comfy, you listened to the hallways to see if anyone was coming back. When you were met with silence, you reached over your backpack and pulled out a small white stuffed teddy.
Curling up with it under your arm, you buried your face in Nat’s shirt and fell asleep thinking of the two pretty redheads down the hall.
The next morning you were up bright and early. Having slept well for the first time in weeks.
You found your way to the communal kitchen just in time to run into Natasha who was coming back from early morning training in the compound gym.
“Hi Y/n/n.” Nat said smiling as she went to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge.
“Morning Natty.” You said with a smile.
“You're in a good mood.” Nat said looking amused as she took a big swig from the water bottle in her hands.
“Yep.” You said popping the P.
“Do you know if Wanda’s up?” Nat asked and before you could respond someone else did for you.
“I’m up.” Wanda said entering the kitchen.
“Morning.” You smiled.
“Morning Y/n. Who wants breakfast?” Wanda asked gravitating to the pots and pans in the drawers beside you.
“I’ll have some.” You said with a smile as you took a seat by the counter.
“Put me down for some too, I’m just going to go and have a shower before breakfast then we can head out ok?” Nat said as she refilled the water bottle and put it back in the fridge.
“Sounds good.” Wanda said as she began pulling things out of the fridge.
“Umm… where are we going today?” You asked feeling a little lost. Nat had already taken her leave for a shower so it was just you and wanda now.
“Don’t tell me you forgot?” Wanda said looking amused.
“Forgot … what? … exactly?” You asked.
“The girls shopping trip?” Wanda said.
“Oh yeah!” You exclaimed sitting up a little taller in a way that made Wanda’s heart stutter.
“So… how did you sleep?” Wanda asked.
“I slept well, how ‘bout you?” You asked watching as wanda beat the pancake batter within and inch of its life.
“Good, good. It’s a bit hit and miss some nights but last night wasn’t too bad.” Wanda said vaguely as she turned around the pour the batter into the pan.
After Nat returned and the three of you had eaten what could only be described as the best pancakes known to man, you got ready and headed for the garage.
Pepper was meeting you at the shopping centre a bit later after she sorted out some stark industries meetings this morning.
“You ready?” Wanda said putting an arm around your shoulders. You jumped in surprise making Nat laugh and Wanda frown.
“Too busy daydreaming there, Parker?” Nat asked with a grin, and you glared at her.
“No, just planning your murder.” You said with a wink before blow if her a kiss that made Nat roll her eyes at you.
“Alright, enough you two.” Wanda said giving you a small shove before punching Nat in the arm.
“Get in.” Nat said opening a door for you to the backseat and waving her hand toward the car's interior.
“This feels personal.” You grumbled as the two redheads took the front seat.
“It is.” Nat grinned as the engine hummed to life. You were taking one of Tonys’ many fancy, and very expensive cars. Nat’s favourite was the Bugatti La Voiture Noire, but it was only two seats, so you were left with the choice of a Mercedes Mayback or a Ford Mustang both of which had four seats.
In the end Nat had opted for the mustang and the three of you had piled in to head off.
With Nat driving you must have arrived in record time; it was no secret the redheaded assassin was a speed demon and Tony had begun framing her speeding tickets in the garage on the wall. The government always came to her aid if the police ever tried to take her license as it was argued she needed it to quote “save New York”
Of course, you hadn’t known this before hand and had let out a small scream as Nat took off at breakneck speed out of the garage.
One very fast car trip later the three of you were stood by the door the mall waiting for pepper to join you.
It had barely been five minutes before the last redhead showed up. Pepper was actually on time; Nat’s driving had just made you all early.
As pepper walked over Nat decided to tease her a little.
“Picking up on Tony’s habits there, pep?” Nat asked.
“Oh please.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m the only reason he’s even at any of his meetings at all. Without me he wouldn’t just be late, he’d be missing.” She said and Nat laughed.
“True.” The assassin nodded.
“Alright, lets do this.” Pepper said smiling at you and Wanda.
The four of you headed into the mall. It was a little crowded but nobody seemed to mind. You just crossed your fingers that your spider senses stayed in check.
Pepper had barely made it ten feet in the door before she was dragging Natasha into a very expensive looking boutique.
This was how you spent the next hour. Pepper and Wanda dragged you and Natasha around, stopping at every pretty dress shop and expensive looking store in the complex.
After about an hour you were beginning to nurse a small headache and the tingle in the back of your mind told you all you needed to know for what was going to happen.
Nat had just stopped at a rack nearby before pulling wanda over to her. Holding out a dress you saw Wanda’s lips moving as she nodded, and Nat took the dress and disappeared into the change rooms.
It was a tight red cocktail dress and when Nat came back out to show it off you swear your jaw unhinged and landed on the floor.
It hugged her in all the right places.
Wanda was too busy ogling Nat to notice your reaction but pepper snorted a laugh before covering her mouth.
Nat pouted.
“What? Does it not look good?” Nat asked and you shot pepper a pleading look but she just smiled.
“No … no. I’d just say its … jaw dropping.” Pepper said winking at you as you glared at her with flushed cheeks.
“Yeah?” Nat asked raising an eyebrow and shooting you a look. “Then I guess I’ll have to get it then won’t i?” Nat said and you nodded eagerly. “Your lucky your cute Detka.” She said as she brushed past you on her way back to the change room. “Because your drooling.” She whispered in your ear and your blush darkened a good two shades of crimson.
Your headache was still getting worse and about a half hour later it was almost reaching full force.
You had found a dress and Nat was carrying four bags, one with a dress for you and her and the other three had a few random pieces of clothing for your day to day wardrobe and some room décor.
Just as you were beginning to think you wouldn’t be able to take anymore Wanda suggested the four of you get lunch from the café downstairs.
By now you were surprised none of them had noticed your discomfort, despite trying to hide it it was still bothering you.
The fluorescent strip lights that lit the mall were too bright and seemed to be burning your retinas with each blink.
The noise level despite not exceeding regular mall noise levels was almost deafening in your sensitive ears.
Even the mixed smells of fast food and perfumes was making your head swim.
Your headache pounded behind your eyes as well as almost throughout your full skull. There was a buzzing in your ears that sounded like the electricity in the walls that simply wouldn’t shut up.
Your stomach was rolling from the mixed smells and it was just too loud and too bright.
As you slid into the booth next to Nat, with wanda and pepper on the other side facing you, you resisted the urge to crawl under the table and cry.
Your headache thundered in your ears and pounded on your skull.
Your headache was in full force and Pepper must have noticed how quiet you were being as she looked you over with a knowing gaze.
She took note of your pinched brow and slightly sweaty forehead, how you were biting down on your lip and squinting. As well as how you flinched as someone in the café banged their cutlery against their plate.
Wanda noticed peppers look and was now looking at you too with a frown which drew Natasha’s eyes to you as well.
The conversation had reached a lull as all three women studied you. You were too zoned out to notice their attention all being on you.
“Y/n?” Wanda asked slowly.
“Yeah?” You said looking up and sounding absolutely wreaked.
“Are you ok?” Wanda said looking slightly worried.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You said not even believing your own words. Your voice was lathered in a tired tone. You shook your head while saying this only managing to anger your headache more as you winced and brought a hand to your head, squeezing your eyes shut tight.
Feeling nauseous you leant on nat and rested you head on her shoulder. Nat seemed almost surprised at your sudden desire for contact.
She held you close to her as your body relaxed into her side having no more energy to hold yourself up.
“Y/n?” Pepper asked softly.
“Mmm?” You hummed as you vaguely heard shuffling before you sensed someone close to you.
Opening an eye slightly you saw pepper crouching next to you.
“Y/n?” she asked softly. “Do you get the same thing peter does honey?” Her voice stayed low and quiet. You turned your face into Nat’s neck and weighed up your options before giving a small nod.
You miss the frown that adorns Wanda’s lips at the news that something was wrong and pepper seemed to know what it was despite you never having mentioned anything about this.
Pepper stood again and looked over at Nat and Wanda.
“She’ll be alright. Just stay here and I’ll be back. I’ll explain in a minute.” Pepper said and she took off in a brisk walk to a nearby shop.
After pepper had darted off she wove through the crowd and into a tech store, making a purchase before making one more stop and then hightailing it back to the café.
When she returned you’s seemingly not moved an inch while Wanda and Nat were talking in hushed tones. Nat had her arm around you and was holdin the back of your head into her neck as you seemed to be almost trembling from all the overstimulation.
When pepper came back Wanda sat a little straighter while Nat eyes the two new shopping bags pepper was carrying.
Pepper came to crouch beside you giving you a small nudge that set your skin on fire.
“Y/n?” She asked softly. “Can you look at me honey, you can keep your eyes shut, I promise these will help.” She said coaxing you out of Nat’s neck.
You faced her with your eyes squeezed shut as she slid a black pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears and switching them on.
The blissful sound of quiet almost made you cry as your headache lessened. A moment later you felt pepper place something on your face before cautiously opening one eye to find the world dimmer and more tolerable.
Now decked out with the headphones and sunglasses you felt a lot better. You were exhausted and the headache was still present just less intense.
You watched as Wanda, Nat and Pepper conversed, the sound not reaching you. Pepper seemed to be explaining what was happening to them based off the sad look wanda gave you.
Pepper explained that your powers increased your senses, and that in the right conditions they were very helpful in fights. But were more than problematic in a domestic setting. She explained that it wasn’t unheard of for peter to get overstimulated when out or somewhere loud. She went on to tell them she recognised the look peter had when he tried to simple tough it out when they went out.
Wanda felt awful that your powers had caused you pain.
Nat however was already planning to talk to tony about getting something built to help.
Once pepper had explained the extent of the issue and some of the things that helped, the three seemed to change gears, looking to be making plans now instead.
After they had finished talking Pepper decided to try something.
She turned to face you and moved her hands to form some simple signs. Your face lit up in recognition.
*How are you feeling? * Pepper signed.
*tired* you signed back.
Nat and Wanda looked surprised.
“How did you know she knew sign?” Wanda asked.
“Peter seemed to know some when he first was with us.” Pepper explained. “I assumed Y/n might also know some if peter did.”
You could tell what they had asked. “My dad was hard of hearing. He taught us sign at a young age before … he died.” You said and pepper nodded.
*We are going to go home* pepper signed but you shook your head.
*you stay here, I’ll go. I don’t want to ruin things* you signed.
*nonsense* pepper signed and you knew based off Nat’s eyes she was following along.
Nat had learnt sign language from Clint in the academy when they were partners. Clint had insisted in case his hearing aid were ever damaged in a fight.
You sighed realising you weren’t going to win this one.
*ok* you signed and hesitated for a moment before continuing. *thank you*. You signed.
*your welcome* pepper signed back and Wanda offered her hand to you.
Holding Wanda’s hand, the four of you headed for the car park.
You felt bad for ruining the trip, but Nat shot you a look when she saw you getting lost in your head that banished all thoughts.
Once you were in the car, Wanda had insisted on driving. Nat was riding with pepper to try and find out more about what was going on. You kept the headphones and sunnies on the whole ride home as you zoned out slightly.
Wanda droves slowly so she didn’t throw you around while Pepper and Nat sped back to try and organise things for when you get back.
When you arrived, you were almost asleep leaning into the passenger door.
Wanda coaxed you out of the car and led you by the hand up the lift and down the hall to her room.
You were beyond exhausted as Wanda lifted the sheets and got you settled under the thick comforter.
She ordered Jarvis to dim the lights and soundproof the room. She thanked Tony for the added features in her mind as she felt you snuggle into her side.
A few moments later the door opened slightly to reveal Nat and Pepper peaking in.
“Is she asleep?” Nat asked and Wanda studied your breathing.
“Not yet.” Wanda responded.
“Well we have some pain meds for her.” Pepper said as they both came inside and handed wanda a glass of water.
After coaxing you into taking some medicine, you laid back down against Wanda was was massaging your head as you melted in her lap.
Pepper and Nat had dropped by Bruces lab to pick up peters pain meds for you before coming to Wanda’s room where Jarvis said they could find you.
You fell asleep not long after taking the medicine which had finally gotten rid of your headache.
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Fic title: baby, you've got to be crazy 🫶
Hiiiiii, Husband 💞 some more lovey idiots for you. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about how they wound up here 😘
“I-” Buck scoffs, throwing his hands up, then brings one to rub at his chin while the other rests on his hip. He forces himself to look at Eddie who is worrying with a loose thread on his shirt sleeve. “Eds, you can’t- you don’t mean that.”
Buck's accusation is born out of self-preservation more than anything. Because, of all the things - spoken and unspoken - that have passed between them through the years, he has never wanted his best friend to mean anything more than the words he just uttered.
Eddie folds his arms across his chest, widening his stance. Nothing drastic, just the smallest amount. Enough to convey he’s serious and not backing down.
"Why not, Buck? Huh? Why can't I mean that?"
Buck starts to protest, to release a litany of reasons, but no sound comes out. His jaw snaps shut when Eddie seemingly drops his defenses, closing the gap between them in two large strides.
Eddie rests one hand on each of Buck's shoulders, letting his thumb settle in the divot of Buck's collarbone. One of the many pieces of Buck that was never good enough for anyone else, but seems to have been custom made for Eddie Diaz.
Eddie's fingertips skim over Buck's hoodie - the burnt orange one Eddie always says looks good on him - down his biceps, around his elbows, over his forearms until their hands are joining. Brown eyes, the color of soil and earth, meet Buck's. They're searching and pleading, looking for an answer Buck desperately wants to give.
"Buck." Eddie's gaze flicks to his mouth for just a second, making him feel like he's burning. And he would, he wants to, but not yet. Not until he's sure what Eddie's asking of him. "Evan."
Eddie rests their foreheads together, bringing them even closer. "Haven't we done this long enough? Haven't we sacrificed and said 'no, not yet' too many times? I don't-" He forcefully exhales between them, a frustrated sigh that tapers off to quiet, wounded thing. "I've missed so many chances. Told myself that it wasn't our time yet and I could wait a little longer. Until the next one. But, I can't. I can't do it anymore. Can't lose you."
Tears gather at the corner of Buck's eyes and he has to swallow back the tremor that wants to accompany every word.
"Okay," he manages. "Say it again."
Eddie’s tongue darts out, swiping across his lips that instantly curve into a small smile. The one Buck pretends is just for him. “Marry me. Be my husband. Plea-”
Buck cuts him off. “Yes, I’ll be your husband,” he whispers, then huffs out a small laugh. "Maybe kiss me first?"
And Eddie does. He brings their lips together, slow and cautious but so, so certain. Like he's never been more sure of anything, like kissing Buck is the easiest decision of his life.
It strikes Buck that this is the last first kiss he'll ever have. That they'll ever have. How it's a precious gift they've been permitted to share with each other.
With every passing year, he became more and more convinced they were two parallel lines, meant to travel together but never touch. Yet here they are, crossing and twisting and intertwining. Beginning to weave the next chapter of their story.
Eddie threads his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Buck's neck, sighing into their kiss, and Buck knows he has never meant anything more.
send me a made up fic title
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Push and Pull
[Instead of a WW for today, you all get (unfortunately only part of) a new project I started because I made myself emotional thinking about it. Thankfully it will be quite short.]
[Summary: Jean is an art major specializing in clay/pottery and goes through some introspection while working on things.]
[Enjoy!]
Jean frowned at the slab of clay sitting in front of him. He was certain that it was mocking him in its readiness to be shaped into something–anything–other than a cone, daring him to try and mold it into something else. Normally Jean handled taunting with a rough check or an even more scathing remark, but clay could not be insulted. It was literally part of the dirt. If he wasn't careful with how much water he applied to the cone, it could very easily become mud underneath his fingers. What kind of insult would be capable of hurting a clay heart? Jean knew that if he was struggling to think of an insult, that there likely were none that would be applicable.
Still, there was a peacefulness in the blank slate that the clay provided. A blank slate that he could always bring back, regardless of how many times the side of the pot caved or the clay slipped off the wheel or if he started the pot off center by accident. No matter what, he could always peel it off the wheel and start again. There was excitement in seeing what he’d be able to create out of the earth, and of seeing just how much the clay would reveal to him of its final purpose along the way.
Jean Moreau always began his pottery projects with the same approach: by building solid walls that he could later adjust through pushing and pulling. When he’d first started making pottery he’d worried that his crooked fingers would hinder the process. That somehow, his hands would be too broken to properly shape the clay. As a result, his first pot had ended up with walls that were too thick and were uneven on top. And yet, when his professor presented the final, fired result, Jean could hardly believe that his lumpy, misshapen pot had been able to withstand its true test.
He’d turned it over and over, searching for clues that it was a fake. He’d been convinced that there was no way that it was his project; after all, the professor had to have recreated it so that it would boost his confidence. Instead, as he’d reacquainted his hands with the clay and examined its curves and flaws, he realized that it fit perfectly in his misshapen hands. It was like holding a piece of himself─a single piece of the puzzle of his selfhood that had, until then, been lost. Then, he found the ghost of one of his fingerprints in the fired clay and all his doubts had been put to rest.
It was still his favorite piece he’d created. It stood as proof to him that he wasn’t too broken to create something new, and on days when he doubted that fact, he would pick up the pot and turn it over once more in his hands and line his thumb up with the fingerprint.
He pulled the clay out in a bold curve, careful to stretch it in a way that would make it expand gradually, only to pinch it back in at a steeper slope.
He’d improved with practice, of course. Soon he’d created bowls and cups and small vases. But for each project that he turned in, his professor would always say the same thing: he needed to work on making the walls thinner. But he’d refused to believe that he could handle anything thinner. He was convinced that his hands were meant for two things: hurting others, and being hurt. Already he’d proven that he could create, but convincing himself that he wouldn’t destroy something was another hurdle he had to overcome.
It hadn’t been until his professor came to stand in front of the station where he’d been working that day and challenged him to create a bowl with a wall thinner than his pinkie.
“But what if it folds on itself? What if it tears?” he’d asked.
“Then you can scrape the clay off the wheel, wedge it, and start over. There’s no limit to it. You can always go back to the beginning. The clay doesn’t mind, and neither do I. As long as you lock up behind yourself when you leave the studio,” his professor had said with a shrug and a smirk.
Sure enough, he’d made the bowl too thin. It ended up tearing and folding in on itself in a pattern that almost resembled a ribbon. Jean had swallowed the defeat and followed his professor’s instructions, and the next time he’d pulled up the walls, he was almost able to maintain a consistent thickness in the walls throughout the entire bowl.
Jean finished the vase by flaring out the top of the project, careful not to let the clay at the top of the piece get so thin that it wouldn’t be able to support its own weight. While other students in the art major program would typically get rid of the slip and any signs of the work being thrown on a wheel, Jean was careful to preserve the imperfections in the surface of his new vase. He was even more nervous to slide the wire under his project, especially given how much he liked how the vase had turned out.
To keep his anxieties at bay, he shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded himself that it was all temporary anyway. Nothing in the world is permanent, and this vase is no exception. But I can make it again, if I want to. It wouldn’t be the same, but I wouldn’t want it to be an exact replica anyway. Once he made peace with the fact that his work was only partially over, he slipped the wire through the clay as close to the base as possible, holding his breath the entire time.
It came off the wheel cleanly, with only a thin layer left behind on the wheel that he scraped off and tossed back into the bin with the rest of the clay they used in class. Once his vase was set aside to air out for the next stage of its creation process, Jean plucked one of his projects that was nearer to completion from the shelf─a plain, relatively small tea cup─and brought it to one of the tables meant for detail work and for glazing.
He was done with the glazing in less than thirty minutes, having picked a unique glaze that was designed to react to the firing process by changing hues and developing a melted appearance.
Jean placed his completed project into the open kiln, whispering a quick prayer under his breath before shutting the lid. Part of him expected that each and every project of his that his professor put into the kiln wouldn’t survive the heat. And if that happened, it would take out the other projects around him as well.
He’d told Betsy several times that he had the same fear about himself─that he would snap someday, and that it would mean that those around him would get hurt in the process.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
MASTERPOST
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George Washington's 250-Year-Old Cherries Found Buried at Mount Vernon
Archaeologists found something incredibly rare in the cellar of George Washington's home at Mount Vernon: Two intact jars of cherries buried in the basement of the first U.S. president's house.
Nick Beard, project archeologist at Mount Vernon, said on Tuesday that he had been excavating the basement "for quite a while" when he saw the lip of one of the jars in November.
When the bottle started to peek out from the earth, he proceeded carefully but said he didn't think it would turn out to be anything out of the ordinary, adding that it's common to find wine bottles and glasses at the site about 15 miles south of Washington, D.C.
In fact, Beard stepped away from the bottles to help on a more immediate project. Only when he returned several weeks later did he realize what he discovered.
As he worked, more and more glass became exposed. He tried to wiggle the glass out of its resting place, but when he did his fingers got a little wet.
That's when he noticed whatever he was working on was full of liquid.
"Which means if it's that full of liquid then it has to be intact enough to hold that liquid," said Beard. "That's not common, so that immediately got me excited."
Uncovered jars reveal centuries-old cherries
When Beard further revealed the jars, he called other archeologists to come check his findings.
The jars were fully excavated on March 22. The cherries were removed from the bottles to help preserve the glass, but after April 30, the glass will be sent off for conservation. Its contents will be sent to a lab for analysis and be tested in a controlled environment by specialists, according to a press release from Mount Vernon.
"It's extraordinary," Jason Boroughs, principal archaeologist at Mount Vernon, saying something similar has only happened twice in Virginia in the past six decades:
The latest discovery is a part of the privately funded $40 million Mansion Revitalization Project at Mount Vernon.
What was in the jar?
Beard and Boroughs said that cherries and a mystery liquid were found in the jar. And the cherries, Boroughs said, actually look like cherries, even after hundreds of years.
"They're plump, they have flesh, they have pits and stems," Boroughs said. "They don't look as if they've been sitting in a bottle for 250 years, although they have."
The liquid inside even smelled like cherry blossoms, according to Mount Vernon.
The cherries in the bottles were probably dry when they were buried, Boroughs said.
While the archeologists know what the cherries are, the liquid is still a bit of a mystery.
Lily Carhart, curator of the preservation collections at Mount Vernon, said it's possible the groundwater got into the bottle after the cork that sealed it deteriorated.
The liquid still needs to be tested, Boroughs said. And there is a small possibility it could've been a type of alcohol, like a brandy or cognac.
Why were the cherries buried?
Enslaved laborers picked the cherries, wiped them off to avoid condensation and placed them into the jar. Then, that jar was corked and buried sometime between 1758 and 1776, when both George and Martha Washington were living at the home, according to Boroughs.
He added that the method would've kept the fruit inside the bottle preserved for up to a year. It was one of the most popular ways to preserve berries and its how folks in colonial America preserved food before there were refrigerators.
"It pretty much keeps them isolated and sealed from the atmosphere, from air and from fungus and other things that could attack" he said.
According to Boroughs, the cherries were supposed to be served on George Washington's dinner table, but instead were forgotten and buried under a brick floor that was placed in the 1770s, sealing its fate as a sort of a "time capsule."
Can you still eat the cherries?
"You would not want to put that close to your face," Carhart said about the cherries.
Boroughs said that it could actually be possible to eat them, but "nobody wants to try."
Why is this discovery significant?
Boroughs said the discovery is remarkable because he "can't count the number of times 18th-century food remains have been found intact" the way the cherries were.
"We're the first people to touch these objects since they were put in the ground by an enslaved person," Boroughs said.
While the discovery itself is incredible, the archeologist said the stories that can be uncovered from it are just as amazing.
"We think of these items sort of as the material bits of lives that we can recover from the ground," Boroughs said. "These bottles tell stories. They're attached to people who had real lives and if we know how to put the pieces together, we can piece together something about their lives."
Beard added that it feels "surreal" to have such an "immediate connection with the people that lived back then."
By Julia Gomez.
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10 SPIRITUAL PLAGUES OF GENOCIDAL ZIONISM
by Nomy Lamm, read at the liberation seders at various university encampments for Gaza, Pesach 5784
"The ten plagues of biblical times were material plagues that targeted the oppressors who held the Israelites captive. As American Jews, we have been conscripted into the role of complicity with those,
oppressing, murdering, and destroying a people and their history. To accept this role is to sacrifice our own divinity.
There are kabbalists who have mapped the ten biblical plagues onto the ten sephirot (faces of the divine), starting at the bottom of the tree of life and working upward. I used the same method to map
out 10 spiritual plagues that befall those who benefit from and support the occupation of Palestine.
As you read these, ask yourself which of these plagues have impacted you? Consider what you may have lost, and what it might take to repair it. The antidote to each plague is held in the energy of the sephira it is mapped onto. Feel welcome to perform the action of connecting with each divine portal as we read, or come back to it at another time."
Loss of Foundational Connection to Truth ~ malchut, shechinah, the physical world
This plague separates us from our foundational
truths as inhabitants of this planet. Where do we belong? What is home? How do we ground into connection with the earth and what
does it mean to do so?
(anoint your feet and feel the ground)
2. Loss of Ability to Trust our Dreams ~ yesod, portal
This plague impacts our ability to dream as a Jewish people. The level of violence that we are witnessing and being asked to be complicit in requires us to separate from the messages of our subconscious and the magic of our dreams.
(anoint your lower belly and feel your aliveness)
3. Loss of Perspective ~ hod, pacing
This plague impacts our ability to have a clear perspective on what has happened, what we want, and where we are going. We
become split, unclear, and difficult to understand or relate to. Our perspective comes not from our own sense of reality, but from
a disembodied dictate.
(anoint your hips and feel your stability)
4. Loss of Allies ~ netzach, power
This is the plague of isolation, where we make true our greatest fears, by assuming that we are somehow uniquely positioned as victims, and that any actions we take out of fear are justified. To the rest
of the world, we appear terrifying and dangerous.
(anoint your knees and feel your momentum)
5. Loss of Humanity ~ tiferet, beauty
With this plague, we lose our place in the human family, the interconnection and common destiny that we all share as inhabitants of this planet. When we attempt to place ourselves outside of and
above others, we sacrifice our own humanity.
(anoint your heart/solar plexus and feel your tenderness)
6. Loss of Hope ~ gevurah, boundary
This is the plague of despair. It crumbles our belief in the possibility of transformation, severing connection with a loving god, sacrificing our faith to a punishing, war-mongering supernatural dictator.
(anoint your shoulders and feel your edges)
7. Loss of Empathy ~ chesed, opening
With this plague, we lose our ability to feel anything for those who are harmed, whether by our own actions or by others. We find ways to blame people for their misfortunes, and assume such things will
never befall us if we stay strong and on top.
(anoint your palms and feel your openness)
8. Loss of Clarity ~ binah, understanding
This plague impacts our ability to make sense of complex sensory input and to know ourselves as a part of the world, operating by the same laws of the universe as every other sacred fragment.
(anoint your ears and feel your sharpness)
9. Loss of Wonder ~ chochmah, wisdom
This plague annihilates our ability to experience the world with openness and wonder, to appreciate the wisdom of child mind, and to merge with the infinite.
(anoint your forehead and the back of your head and feel your magic)
10. Soul Loss ~ keter, source
Who even are we? Those who have experienced all these plagues without consciously unwinding them are lost to themselves. Only when we experience this ultimate and final plague is it possible to
commit the gut wrenching atrocities we witness at the hands of Zionist soldiers.
(anoint the top of your head, place your hand on your head and feel the blessings pour through you, connecting you back down to your roots, to the earth)
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