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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.

Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.

You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.

Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.

“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.

Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.

You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.

After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.

"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.

Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.

Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.

He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.

"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.

Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.

"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.

"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.

"-I'm calling it in."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"

"Fine! What do you want?"

Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.

"I need you to help me catch fish."

Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

"You're insane."

"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."

Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.

You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.

You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.

Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.

A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

Dick is over the moon.

He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.

Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.

Dick is... concerned.

You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.

You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.

You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

He croons happily when you being to pet him.

You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.

"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.

You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.

You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

Thought process-wise, no.

Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.

Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.

"Pup, what the fuck?"

You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.

You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.

You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.

Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.

You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.

In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?

Tok, tok, tok.

Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.

Tok tok tok.

You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.

You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.

You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.

For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.

You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.

The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.

The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?"

The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.

You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.

You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.

You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.

"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.

You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

The pout deepens into a frown.

"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"

You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

"Pup?!"

His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"

He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.

Dick might just be in heaven right now.

"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.

You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

His insides twist as he peels of you.

Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.

"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"

Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

You whisper another apology.

Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.

Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.

"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"

Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.

"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.

He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

"Well no-"

It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.

Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

"What?"

Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"

"I got confused." Dick sputters.

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.

"Are you guilt-tripping me?"

"Is it working?"

"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out.

Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.

Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.

"DICKFACE!"

"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.

"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

"Just steal some from her laundry."

"But she'll be pissed."

"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."

Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.

Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.

He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.

Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.

"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.

"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."

Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.

"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.

Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.

Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

Dick stops.

You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.

You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.

Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.

Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.

"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.

"So what are selkies?"

Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"

Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"

You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.

“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.

But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.

“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.

Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.

“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.

“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

“Fish.”

Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.

“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.

You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.

Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

It wasn't always gifts though.

Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.

When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.

Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.

Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.

Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."

No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.

"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.

"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.

Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

"It screamed."

"All soups scream."

"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

"Great!"

"Buuuut..."

Of course, the price.

"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.

The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.

"Tell me why you need the book."

Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"

Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

"You know her?"

Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

He has.

"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.

"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.

"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.

You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.

Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."

You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.

"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.

"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."

Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.

You stop your rambling. "What?!"

"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.

Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

"All of them, darling." Dick nods.

"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.

"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.

"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.

"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.

A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.

You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.

You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.

"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.

You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.

"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.

You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.

Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.

"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

"Never."

______________________________________________________________________

Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.

Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.

You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

"Hey Dickie," you whisper.

"Hmmmmm?" He groans.

"Could you hand me your pelt?"

"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.

Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.

Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

You twitch your nose. "You missed."

"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.

"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.

"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dorks #seals #selkie x reader #selkie au

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iwhishtomeetinournextlife · 3 years

Text

An anonymous lover (part 3)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, Sirius and James critisizing Slytherins (and Y/N), not proof read

Word count : 1.9K

Part 1 - Part 2 - You're here - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N had transfiguration class next, it was usually the class were she would sat down next to Lily Evans. The two young women liked each other quite well, they weren’t the closest, each having there own group of friends, but it wasn’t that rare for the two of them to study together, or to talk for hour, saying things they felt they couldn’t tell to the people they were the closest to.

That’s how Y/N found out Lily actually quite liked James Potter, and the rest of the marauders, despite being a bit hard on them. And that’s how Lily found out about some of Y/N’s little secrets, like the chocolate she hides in some classes to snack during lessons or that time she stole back one of her belonging from Finch’s office. Despite being part of his favorite house, the caretaker didn’t liked her much.

When Y/N entered the classroom and greeted her professor, she quickly spoted Lily to sat down with her, her being at their usual stop. But when she was about to put her stuff down, someone else hurried to take the spot. Y/N was about to face the intruder, but her words got stuck in her throat when she saw who it was; Sirius !

“What are doing here, Black ?”, Lily on the other hand, despite being happy to see him again, was not going to let him do what he wants. “What Evans ? Not happy to see me ?”, Sirius did an exagerate pout before throwing an arm around her, “that hurt my feelings, I thought you’d be more caring”

“The sit was already taken !”, Lily tried to push him away, with a hand on his face as he was getting dangerously close. At that, Sirius turned to you, “Oh but you don’t mind, right Y/L/N ?”. Before Y/N was even able to form a thought, McGonagall interrupt them. “If you don’t mind, Miss Y/L/N, I would like to start my class”. She got all red. “Sorry Professor”, she then looked around and sat down at the only seat left, who happen to be right next to James.

Once she was at her seat and Mrs McGonagall started her class, she looked at Sirius and Lily, the black-haired was throwing a big smile at their table, but she was unsure if it was to her as a thank you for the spot –he had stolen-, or to James. Y/N then looked at the boy next to her, a bit confused, shouldn’t it be him trying to sit down next to Lily ? James simply respond with an innocent smile before looking at the whiteboard, to try to pay a bit attention to what the professor was saying.

She looked at Sirius again for a few seconds and smiled to herself, looking at what the professor was writting. She was happy to see Sirius was doing better, was it thanks to her letter ? She blushed at the idea, no, it couldn’t be. Sirius was a strong person, always getting up, he was probably already doing better even before receiving the letter. Maybe he didn’t even got it ! She heard Sirius and Lily talked a bit during class but didn’t think of it to much, he was quite the chatty person, always something to say.

“Shit, can I look at your notes for a sec ? I missed the last bit” James was turned to her, Y/N her eyes widen a little, but then she just chuckled. “Sure” She then turn the paper for him to look; “Th-” but he stop when he looked at it, “wh- How can you read this ?!” he talked a bit too loudly and McGonagall scolded him “Mr Potter quiet !”, “Sorry Professor”.

He turned to her again and talked way more quietly this time, “How can you read this ?”, she smiled and respond with a fake wise man voice “I was there when it was written”, James rolled his eyes and she laught at that, “Here, let me help you”, Y/N told him what was written so he could catch up, he thanked her, the rest of the class went smoothly.

Contrary to what people might think when they found out Y/N loved writing letters, she didn’t actually have much of good handwritting on the daily. When she would send messages, she would take her time, appreciating the moment, but in class ? She had to be quick, write all she could with her own note taking system, if you were able to puzzle out the words it was quite helpful, but only a few people were able to do so.

Even professors had a hard time, it wasn’t as bad as her notes but still could be impossible at moment. Many times have some of them asked her to rewrite the whole essay, one even threaten her to not marked it at all and failed her. After that, she made sure to be just a tad more carring of her homework and tests.

At the end of the period, Y/N calmly put her supplies away, contrary to James who stuffed everything in his bag before joinning Sirius at the door, looking like they were waiting for something. As for Y/N, she went to Lily, they were suppose to study together as class stopped early today –poor Professor Slughorn had a burst of Gargoyle fever-.

“So, do we go to the library ?”, Lily felt a bit embarassed “I’m so sorry Y/N I can’t go today, I have to help Sirius-” she looked over and saw James was there too, she sighed, “-and James with something, is that okay ?”. Y/N’s looked soften, “Of course, there’s no problem ! We could always do that another time”, Lily had a big smile “You’re the best”, Y/N flipped her hair in a faux attempt of looking snob, “I know”, they laughted and then went their separated way after saying goodbye.

-------------------------------------

Lily, Sirius and James all went to the boy’s dorm so she could take a look at the letter, so far, it was Sirius’ best shot to know the identity of his mysterious penpal, he really hoped he will be able to find out who it was.

“Take that smug away Potter, I’m only helping Sirius because he insisted a lot”, James simply put his hand in the air in front of him in a sign of peace, “Of course Evans, don’t you put any worries in that pretty head of yours, I had nothing in mind”.

Before Lily could reply, Sirius put his arm around her shoulders, “You’re a saint Evans ! Thanks you for helping me here, you’re my only chance right now to find the one I’m destined to be with !”, Lily rolled her eyes a bit, “If it’s one of your prank I’m going to hex you so hard your kids will feel it”.

The three students entered the dorm and Sirius sat on his bed. “Yeah yeah, of course, it’s not like you had anything better to do anyway”, Lily open her mouth in disbielive “I was suppose to study with Y/N !”, James scoffed, “Yeah, a slytherin, I don’t understand how you can be friend with her !”. Lily rolled her eyes, an habit she did quite a lot around the marauders, “She’s nice, not all slytherin are death eaters”

It was Sirius’ turn to mock her, “ ’might as well be synonym”. Lily hit him with a pillow, “And what would you do if it’s a slytherin your little anonymous lover ? Or Y/N even ?”. James laughed, “With a pig like handwritting like hers, imossible !”, Lily was now red of irritation from the two young men.

“Show me that dang letter so I can be done with you two !”. Sirius growled a bit and gave it to her, while she was reading he thought of the possibility of a slytherin being the one who send the letter and his nose scrunch at the idea. It wasn’t possible, no slytherin would want to cheer someone up, especially not him, or even to say nice things to anyone.

Then he thought of Y/N. Sure, she never did anything wrong to him, she even was nice enough to listen to him rembled with his anecdotes, she even looked like she was actually listening to him, and she was cute, and she smelled like parchment and roses, and her li-... No, that’s not possible. They barely talk together, never would have she known enough of him to write all those nice words, it was purely a polite relationship.

When Lily finished reading she pinched her nose and then sighed, “I’m sorry Sirius, but I don’t know who send you this”

The boy who was previously abstracedly playing with the “kiss”, jumped out of his bed in one motion to her friend. “What do you mean you don’t know ?? You’re their friend !”. Lily put a hand on his shoulder, “Listen, I didn’t recognize the handwriting, I don’t know anyone who can make drawing moves and the things said are not a secret to any of my friends, I’m sorry”.

Sirius let out a loud growl, throwing his head back, James sympathetically tapping his shoulder. He had such a pityful puppy face, Lily felt bad. This letter was full of love, no denying that, and clearly Sirius wanted to find the one who sended it. “Look, I can give you a list of the friends I talked to the most, that might help narrow it down and I would try to get information, alright ?”

Sirius’ face lighted up and he took Lily and James in a big bear hugs, “Thanks Evans, you really are a saint !”, Lily laught a bit “You already said that”. Sirius winked at her, “We should start with those who write with colored ink maybe ? There shoudn’t be that much people”. James shook his head, ”You don’t remember ? It’s actually very popular, so much, Minnie had to precise light colored ink were prohibited to use on tests and homeworks because some idiots started to use yellow ink”. Sirius had a bit grin on his face, “Then I guess we better get started, Prongs”

And that’s how mission “Anonymous lover” started, the marauders would try to gather information on Lily’s friends, on who might have or might have not write the letter, but they quickly found out none of her close friend had anything to do with it.

----------------------------------------------

The rumors of Sirius searching for a mysterious penpal didn’t took long to reached Y/N. She was a bit shocked, why would he wants to meet her ? She didn’t thought he would tried to find her, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want him to be desappointed to found out it’s her. She had talked of it to noone, and she hoped that for now, there were no way to find her, she wanted to think about it for a bit on her own.

After debating with herself for a few day, she decided to have a bit of fun with it, watching Sirius looking for her at the complete wrong place was quite entertaining, and she wanted to try to have a chance to have Sirius to get to know her without the prejudice of her house on the way.

That night, she decided to write, and before classes the next day, she gave the letter to an owl, who would send it at lunch with the other owls. She couldn’t wait to see his face.

-----------------------------

taglist : @blackpinkdolan

#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #an anonymous lover #sirius x reader

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mystery-star · 4 years

Text

Actions speak louder than Words – Spock [SMUT]

Pairing: Spock x reader (female)

Warnings: Smut

Words: 3647

A/N: After talking to @elysiansith about Spock Smut, I just had to write this piece. Lol.

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

Although you knew Spock would find it illogical that you worried about what he’d think you still couldn’t help it. You just had to ponder if your betrothed would like it that you agreed to go to a dinner with Lucas, a friend of yours. In the end you really had to tell yourself that it was just a dinner among friends and that he would need to accept that since it was your life. And deep within you also knew that Spock truly wouldn’t mind who your dinner partner was, after all you were wearing his engagement ring around your neck and not someone else’s. Yet it surprised you that when you were eating and laughing with the other Ensign, Spock asked if he could sit at your table as well

“Uh” your friend answered and you could see his struggle. Of course he didn’t want to be mean and he probably also didn’t dare to say no to a superior officer, although you were all off work now. And of course he also didn’t know of your relationship to the half-Vulcan. “Actually uh… we’ve been planning this for a long time. We just want some time for ourselves. It’s a date actually… I don’t know if you’re quite aware what this is but…” he trailed off and you glanced at him in surprise, not sure what to say. You had asked him if it was a date, of course more jokingly, and he had answered in the negative. There was a lump in your throat and you didn’t know what to do or say. Luckily, Spock reacted and sat down on one of the free chairs at the table for four. (Technically, Lucas could blame himself for not choosing a table for two)

“I am quite well aware of the definition of a date” he replied calmly as he picked up his spoon. You had to bite back a grin because Lucas face was hilarious “Besides, I do not believe that Ensign (Y/L/N) seems to be aware that you have intended for your meal to be a date”

“Well uh… but… most people first go on a date as friends before it is a real one. It may sound illogical to you but that’s what humans do. And many other species too that don’t care about logic. No offence” you could hear the desperate undertone and knew that he wanted to get rid of your fiancé yet not say it out aloud. Much to his dismay and your amusement, Spock started a short lecture about how important consent was and that he did not think it was a good idea if he ‘secretly’ had planned for this to be a date when you weren’t aware of this. “Alright look, I wanted to see how it goes before I ask her out officially. I didn’t want to ruin my chances”

“You do not stand a chance anyway” Spock said and while you knew it was true you had to admit it sounded mean.

“And how do you want to know that? I bet you’ve never asked someone out on a date and even if you did the person would be abnormal to say no. Unless they’re Vulcan too but I doubt Vulcans even do dates” Spock only raised an eyebrow and did exactly what you had thought he would do.

“(Y/N)” he said after turning to you “Would you agree to accompany me to a date tomorrow?” you chuckled

“Yes, I’d like that”

“You what? That’s not how it works, you can’t just ask her out. She’s my date” he grabbed his plate and glanced at you “Come on, let’s go” you glanced at Spock

“I…” you started

“Oh you want to be his date now? Fine” he spat “have fun with the talking robot”

“Luke” you hissed, not wanting to fight with him, besides, some people were already glancing into your direction and discussing

“I’ve never even been interested in you, just look at you, you’re not even attractive” you let out a huff

“Luke” you tried again “Stop the bullshit”

“Says the one who just agreed to a date with him. I’ve liked you for a long time but now, as I finally brought up the courage to ask you out, you choose him” you sighed

“I didn’t choose him. Well at least not now” you looked at your friend “We’re getting married when the five-year-mission is over” now it was easy to tell how had been listening to your conversation because said people either gasped, almost choked on their food, dropped whatever they were holding, let out another surprised sound or just were too baffled to do anything. And Luke was one who did the last thing. He stared at you with his jaw wide open.

“You-you…” you sighed

“Yes Luke, we’re betrothed” you placed a hand on Spock’s arm, gently rubbing it with a smile

“How is that possible?”

“From what I know of human courtship a couple will become engaged after they have agreed to marry each other. Therefore, (Y/N) has become my betrothed after accepting my proposal” Luke looked like he was about to say something but then he gave a weak nod and then left the mess hall. You sighed and looked after him, torn between staying and going after him.

“I made him angry” you muttered

“No, (Y/N). It has been my doing that drove him away, for which I apologize, as well as having interrupted your meal” he squeezed the hand that still was on his arm “For this reason, I shall do anything necessary to preserve your friendship with the Ensign” you smiled

“Thanks” you looked around, then turned to him “Maybe we should leave too… everyone’s staring” you mumbled “By tomorrow, almost everyone will know”

“That sounds quite likely. However, it is favorable since it will detain others from attempting to court you” you grinned and let go of him, whereupon he picked up his meal and got up. You did the same and followed him to his quarters, trying to ignore the looks of everyone else.

“But why did you come and join us?” you asked him once you were eating in his quarters

“After I have heard that he intended for your dinner to be a date, I found it logical to ensure that he would not attempt something you were not comfortable with” you smiled

“Or maybe” you continued “You were jealous or worried that I could leave you for him. I know you’ve once asked me if I’m really sure if I want to marry you because you could not give me what a human could” he raised an eyebrow “I think that maybe you don’t enjoy the fact that other men could want me the way you do because they don’t know I’m in a relationship” while you had meant not much by the words, except for a bit of playful teasing, you were surprised by his action. Abandoning his meal, he got up and came over to you, extending his hand to you. “What are you doing?”

“From your statements I have concluded that it might be necessary to remind a few males that you are not available for a relationship” you too got up, still not sure if he was thinking what you thought he was. However, when he pulled you closer and kissed you, you knew that he actually had had that idea in mind. You found yourself smiling and ran your fingers through his hair while he was pulling up the skirt of your uniform. After a while, you pulled away, wanting to take it off but he obviously misunderstood “In case I did something you do not approve of, I would like to apologize” you shushed him with a finger to his lips

“You’ve done nothing wrong. In contrary, I broke away so that we can take this even further” you smiled and slipped out of your uniform and tried to relieve him of his own too but he took hold of your wrists. Now it was your time to apologize but he didn’t let you finish by kissing you again and leading you to his bed. He gently lowered you onto it but before you laid down, he opened and took off your bra, letting it fall to the floor. It almost made you giggle, because he never dropped or threw something. Okay, you saw him throw something once on a planet; you had been more or less ambushed by some weird alien animals and all of the landing party had thrown stones at them what luckily scared them away. But when your fiancé’s lips moved along your neck to your chest your thoughts were back in the here and now. Since you had no more strength to stay in a sitting position, you lay down and tried to pull him even closer. He reacted with a deep growl which made you smile and shiver at the same time. At times you were still surprised that he did not think it was better to wait with sex until you were married. But he had told you what it meant to his people and that he would not do it lightly. To your dismay, he took his time with trailing kisses all over your chest while he let his hands roam over your abdomen or your thighs. “Spock” you whimpered, hoping he’d also do something to alleviate the burning between your thighs. You felt a low rumble vibrate through his chest and the he lifted his head, much to your disappointment “No” you whined, trying to move his head back to your body. “Please” he raised an eyebrow but complied.

“I am certain you are aware of the chemical and biological processes that occur within your body during coition” you had to pull yourself together to not roll your eyes. Of course he had tried to bring said process closer to you on several occasions and you felt like he had listed up all hormones that were involved. While the explanation had not really interested you back then, you enjoyed it more this time. You even had to bite back a giggle at his words and you wondered if that was supposed to be a form of dirty talk. Not that you minded though, it was quite pleasant to hear his voice while he was pleasuring you. What you didn’t like however, was how he told you to be patient because if he did not give your body enough time to prepare he would only hurt you. Now you couldn’t help an eye roll.

“But it sure doesn’t hurt me if you just touch me?” at first it seemed like he hadn’t even heard you or chose to ignore you but then he trailed his right hand, that was currently on your stomach lower and pulled down your underwear a bit. He lifted his head again to look into your eyes while he moved his hand to where you wanted it most and you threw your head back, letting out a weird grunting sound as you dug your fingers into his wrist. “Oh hell yes” you breathed, what caused him to raise an eyebrow and mutter something that most likely was ‘fascinating’. You wondered what he could find so fascinating, seeing that by now, he should know how you can react to his touch. And you too found that maybe it was time to make sure he got a move on as well. For that, you pulled his head down to yours and kissed him. When his left hand came up to the side of your face, you didn’t hesitate to grab it and lightly traced the pad of his first two fingers with the tip of your own. A wicked smile crept on your face when you noticed how he stilled and closed his eyes for a moment, obviously trying his best to stay in control but you weren’t done yet. Slowly, you brought his hands to your lips and started trailing kisses along the inside of his forefinger. Once you had reached the bottom and were on your way up he let out a growling sound.

“(Y/N)” he started but his voice broke off, probably because you now had his two fingers in his mouth. Among humans that surely was something playful, maybe even a bit sexy. For a Vulcan, however, it meant much more. Which was why you soon heard him mutter words under his breath and was trying to shuffle out of his clothing with just one hand. His actions made you grin and you released his hand, pulling his lips down to yours again while you grabbed the hem of his shirt to lift it over his head, which you only could when he parted from your lips. He also used that chance to rid himself of the rest of his clothing and before you knew it, also your panties were gone.

“What about the ‘I’ll hurt you if your body can’t prepare properly’ sorrows?” you teased

“Your actions have proven that you do not seem to mind” you smiled

“Well okay, you’ve got me there” you jerked your hips up, a silent plea to continue and to your relief he positioned himself and moved his hands to yours, pinning them down onto the mattress above your head and intertwined his fingers with yours. He only looked down at your for a while, prompting you to wiggle your eyebrows “That is all?” he raised his eyebrow and then pushed into you, making you squeeze his hands and let out a long moan. After a few gentle thrusts, your fiancé buried his face in the crook of his neck, obviously trying to accomplish his initial goal, to make others aware of the fact that you were taken. You wanted to do something as well but with his own lips trailing all over your neck, you couldn’t (better said didn’t want to) move your head too much and your hands were still pinned down. So basically all you could do was to wrap your legs around his thighs, trying to pull him closer to you. Finally, he released your hands and let his own wander along your chest, respectively stroking the side of your face with the other. “Spock?” you breathed and took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Yes?�� he asked pausing with his movements to look at you

“Don’t stop” you muttered, jerking up your hips slightly “But-but I just wanted to say that I love you” he raised an eyebrow and you feared that you had something wrong. A part of you whished you had not said it because you had told him before that you loved him but he had never really answered. Also today he seemed like he would not answer but then gave a nod and leant down to kiss you.

“I too wish to inform you that I hold great affection for you” you smiled

“You do know that’s the first time you reply to my ‘I love you?’”

“When you have expressed your feelings for me for the first time after we started our relationship, I have needed time in order to contemplate how I could best formulate what you mean to me” you smiled

“You mostly do that through actions. That counts too. Somehow even more than words” you leaned up to peck his lips “But speaking of actions” you chuckled and wiggled your hip again “Because as you’ve once told me, a woman can suddenly ‘lose’ all the progress she’s gained towards an orgasm if you stop for too long. And that could cause a problem for you because you promised me that you’d always hold back your own orgasm until I came. Because men don’t really ‘lose’ their progress that much if they stop. At least humans” you also knew that this probably wouldn’t be a problem for him. As a Vulcan, he could hold back his own orgasm for as long as he wanted. At times you even needed to tell him to just let go because he had been determined to go on for two rounds, at least two for you but you had convinced him that you liked it better if you both found release. He too seemed like he wanted to remind you about this but you shook your head and pressed a finger to his lips “Actions. Not words” you reminded him

“As you wish” he gave a nod and resumed his earlier pace while his right hand wandered to the side of your face, his fingers getting into position for a meld “May I?”

“Sure” you breathed and only moments later you were flooded with all of his feelings and sensations. Sometimes you didn’t know if that was what you liked most about having sex with him, to know exactly what he was feeling and thinking. And he too was an expert at reading you and sometimes knew what you wanted even before you did. It was especially helpful in the beginning when he had just sensed when he needed to stop or noticed that you were actually fine with something not even you had been too sure about before trying it out. One thing that did bother you a little, however, was that he always ended the mind meld a little after your orgasm because he didn’t want you to be overwhelmed by his own sensations, which could be quite intense apparently. Yet somehow you knew that he probably was right because even his actions were getting rather emotional and much unlike his controlled and composed self when he too approached his release. Somehow you didn’t want to know what must be going on inside his mind at that time. You felt his amusement and he mentally reminded you that you’d better focus on what was and not what could be “Right, sorry” you replied out loud.

“If you are getting distracted so easily I suppose it is imperative that I ensure it does not happen again” you swallowed and before you could even really process what exactly he meant, he increased his pace again while he let go of your face and moved his hand down to your clit again instead. You bucked your hips and as if he was not yet doing enough, Spock also brought his mouth back to the side of your neck, this time on the other than before. It felt like all the sensations were getting too much at the moment and you let out a muffled cry and tossed your head back. Apparently, Spock had thought he hurt you because he stilled for a short moment then continued his actions, even fiercer than before. You weren’t sure how you managed to handle all of it and were grateful that you could fist your hands in his sheets, to have something to keep you grounded or you’d have gone crazy. You started whimpering as you felt your orgasm approach. Of course also your fiancé noticed and while he got a little less fervent in his ministrations, he turned more sensual instead. Not much later, the bliss of your orgasm consumed you and only shortly after, Spock stopped altogether but stayed in the mind meld and wanted to know if you were okay. You could only answer after you had calmed down a bit.

“Yes” you breathed out and grabbed his wrist “But I’d be much happier if you continued to reach your release as well. I surely told you that every time” you pulled his head down to peck his lips. He responded with a nod and then ended your meld before he resumed thrusting into you until he too came with a deep growl against your neck. For a moment he stayed like that, trying to steady his breathing, before he let go of you and lay down beside you, pulling you against him so that your chest rested against his. He leaned his forehead against yours, making you smile “Thank you” you whispered, gently stroking the side of his face, then letting your hand wander over his neck to his chest.

“You do not need to thank me, (Y/N)” he replied, burying his nose in your hair. You moved your hand down to his heart which still beat even faster than usual

“I suppose I should go and get cleaned while you can have a moment to yourself to bring your emotions into order and let logic overrule all else” you teased, ruffling his hair with a giggle.

“We can do so later as well. I wish to hold you for a while longer”

“Of course” you nuzzled his neck and pecked his skin there. For some seconds you were silent, then spoke up again “I somehow don’t want to leave. Can I sleep here tonight?”

“If you have believed that I would want you to leave, you are mistaken”

“That’s settled them. I sleep here. But maybe we should finish our dinner first” you smiled and moved closer “I just hope no one says something about the hickeys tomorrow. Especially not my date” a short giggle left your mouth

“I am certain that he will not mind” he lifted his head to peck one of the countless hickeys on your neck “Seeing that I myself am responsible for them”

“Just next time I’m on an accidental ‘date’ with someone, you should give it to them straight that I’m taken” a big smile crept on your face “Although I admit that it is kinda funny and cute to see you being jealous and trying to hide it” you pecked his lips “And don’t try to deny it because as I told you earlier, actions mean more than words. But know what? I still love you”

#spock #spock x reader #spock x you #spock imagine #spock smut

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years

Note

Can you do 21 from prompt list for Draco Malfoy?? NSFW or SFW, your choice. Thank you so much❤❤

A/N: Wait, wait, wait... I just realized I'm writing my first smut ever. And I'm undertaking the challenge, y'all. Wish me luck, haha. It's also me turning against some of my mutuals from Tumblr now. Granted, Draco-x-reader is changing into the dirty territory. #Ihatemyselfforthat

Warnings: smut, so... hella yeah! for sure NOT pg-13 + language + allusions to the alcohol

XOXOXO

Prompt 21: “Stop teasing.” / “Make me.”

Draco's lips tasted like a mixture of cigar and wine he had drunk in the restaurant.

His skin was so soft under your fingertips, and you couldn't help yourself but run your hand over his jawline, cheekbones, chest, arms, eventually stopping in his tousled hair to slowly caress his scalp. Enthusiastic as it was, he was responding to your kisses with as much eagerness and desperation as were you, and you couldn't help yourself but wonder how excellent kisser was he. Titling your head, you deepened the kiss over and over again, your tongues dancing in each other's mouths and fitting into the perfect rhythm of movement. You were desperately trying to press yourself closer, if it was possible, to him, but none of it was enough, and your body longed to every inch of him. His hands, on the other hand, didn't embed too long in one place and were marveling all over you -- your hips, your breast, your back, your face. Every time and everywhere he touched, a pleasant and tickling feeling burst in the place, being the worst encouragement to develop a remaining tension below your navel. At that point, you felt as if your body was on fire, expanding in your veins and only building up desire.

Draco nibbled your lip between his teeth, gently and carefully, and you couldn't help the inevitable gasp which escaped out of your mouth, spreading a feeling of lust across your chest. To that, he as well reacted with the faintest of whimpers coming from his throat, and soon enough, he rapidly turned you on your back, pulling himself on top of you and never breaking the connection between your lips. Wild and on the adrenaline boost, your kisses were passionate, and your hands started roaming with clothes, desperate to reveal more skin to fulfill each other's eager needs. Almost as on cue, your breathing sped up into much faster respiration, quickly turning into pants and loud puffings; but that didn't stop you from kissing, rather sporadically breaking off to catch some air and then attacking each other with zealous lips again.

Draco felt like a blessing, ramming his weight at you, and it was so tempting that you suddenly needed to be even closer to him. And so you did, by arching your back and releasing yet another long, covetous sigh, which --try as might-- couldn't be suppressed by anyone's willpower. Your sigh wasn't, however, left without a response because something like a low growl rumbled in Draco's chest, and his hands traveled from your chest to the wrists, pinning you to the mattress.

For the last, he planted the kiss on your mouth, hard, and then lowered his head, only to press his lips against your neck; at that point, you started wheezing like an angry rhinoceros. Releasing your hands and allowing you more room for maneuver, your clumsy fingers started fumbling with the buttons of his shirt; meanwhile, his hands found themselves on your hips, putting a lot of force to keep you in the stable position. You disagreed, however, with this arrangement, because still unsatisfied with the proximity of your bodies, you began squirming impatiently.

He probably understood your allusion because a small smile painted on his face, as you felt against your skin, and his palms wandered all way long to the calps of your bra, attempting to unbutton it. And within mere seconds, he succeeded, tossing it off the bed to the other side of the room, clearly pleased with himself. With a deficit of self-control, he ripped off his mouth of your neck only to admire your chest with great interest and lust flickering in his dilated eyes. But he was only absent for a moment before locating the sloppy kisses between your breast, slowly making his way down, and down, and down, where the biggest need was torturously pooling up.

"Beautiful," he was muttering between kisses, and your sighs were only doubled by his breath which softly tickled your skin. His hands never left your body, slowly tracing the patterns on your bare arm, and your chest was rapidly falling and rasing at the desire and pleasure you felt. He, as well, was lost in the great ardor, as if in trance -- his breath blasted in the shaky pants; his palms touching every inch of you, doing the closest studies to your anatomy; his lips grazing your skin with the biggest curiosity; and his heart racing at the highest rate in the rib cage. So was your pulse very unsteady.

He pulled away suddenly, stopped kissing you; and as you were about to let out a loud sign of protest or pull him back to your lips, you realized he had ducked his head to your inner tights, capturing them passionately with fierce kisses.

Holy fuck!

You gasped at the most wanted touch and arched your back until at least half of it was off the bed, feeling as if the tension was about to tear you up in the pieces. But that didn't matter now. If you had to die, it would be committed during the most pleasurable time of your life, as was now.

You wanted him so, so bad to press his lips at the exact same place he was omitting, and soon enough, you figured out what he was playing at. And his playful smirk only confirmed your assumptions. That only made you more flustered.

"Stop teasing," you mumbled in a shaky breath, barely able to create the coherent sentence due to your unsteady respiration and a pure want that overcame your voice.

"Make me." His voice was laced with craving, low and deep as never. As you lowered your gaze to look him directly in the eyes, you saw that his pupils were dilated to the point that at least half of them were black, and his stare held something more than passion in itself. It was piercing, actually. His chest was heaving so much at the sight of you sprawling beneath him, and his hair was disheveled, standing in every direction, making him look wild. But in a good way.

"Please," you pleaded, desperate as never before and forcing the most persuading tone to convince him. He, on the other hand, had decided to say nothing and only let out an amused chuckle.

To your enormous surprise, however, he succumbed to your begs and, in the next second, shifted so quickly that it startled you a little, making you jolt in the positive shock. His fingers almost aggressively grasped your undergarment, and you laid your head on the pillow, letting him take it off in the passionate haste of your legs. Even without your noticing, he swiftly and speedily removed it, shoving it in some unknown corners of the bed, and in the next moment...

Oh, boy...

In the next moment, he was slowly yet fiercely pressing his lips into the most tension-bearing spot; exactly where you wanted from the very beginning. Trying to cover up your blasting gasp, you inhaled sharply, clenching your jaw to do your best to repress any sound out of your mouth. Draco, on contrary, seemed to take great enjoyment of your reaction because he groaned and took another chance into pressing his lips to your clit, his fingers digging roughly into your hips.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed, trying but failing to lower your voice, and Draco emitted another groan, sending delicious vibrations all across your body, feeling like an electric shock straight to your core.

A few curses and endearments occasionally escaped Draco's mouth, and he started kissing the insides of your shaking legs -- once, twice, again, and again -- and inducing the loud pants, moans, and pleads from you. Eventually and finally, his hands grabbed your tights, spreading your legs a little bit wider than they already were and allowing him better access to your... intimate parts. Wasting no more time, he dropped his head and slowly entered you with his tongue, caressing your sensitive and swelling bud.

"Yes! Oh--" you sighed, relishing the pure mixture of his fingers roughly holding you into the position and the flickering of his tongue in your private parts. Thrusting your head even harder into the pillow and closing your eyes in pleasure, you tried to fit in into the rhythmical motion of his tongue by wiggling your hips with as much power as you had in yourself; you met with his mouth, which as if on purpose, accelerated the movement.

Fucking wonderful, it felt!

What came next, however, almost undid you right there and then -- Draco started sucking on you, gently swirling his tongue in the delectable little circles. Gripping even tighter on sheets, you let out the cries of pleasure on the fucking enjoyment of his every action, breathing even too rapid to be called pants. You rolled your eyeballs over and over again, partly believing it was what heaven feels like, and bouncing on your bed like mad.

"Draco --oh my god -- I think I'm gonna..." And then the strain snapped, sending a wave of ecstasy over your body, making you harder than you had ever been. Obtaining the fulfillment, your whole body was quivering violently and slowly, step by step, the tremors began to subside.

Draco pulled away, leaving you laying still and saturated, all of your muscles feeling strangely flabby yet content.

Before you knew it, the scent of his cologne was again hitting your nostrils, and he was by your side, tagging you even closer to him by lifting you up with one arm, and the second one throwing on the duvet and entirely coating your nudity. Then he was kissing you again: on your forehead, cheeks, nose, neck; with the same vigor but less tense atmosphere than the moments ago. You let out a small satisfied and relieved sigh before hiding your face in the crook of his neck, pressing your lips against his skin, and waiting for the return of your strength.

"Perfect," Draco muttered under his breath, setting a few more kisses on you and eventually resting his head next to you.

XOXOXO

A/N: No comment :?

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angstsfordays · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

-------------------------//---------------------------

As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

-------------------------//---------------------------

All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #beautiful pain #angstsfordays #bucky barnes fanfiction

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keorami · 3 years

Text

So you know when you wanna write a funny situation but you realise that you have to come up with said funny situation? Yeah... I forgot that my sense of humor is atrocious, but at least I tried...? I couldn't focus on one long story so I decided to write several short ones instead! Hope you enjoy!

"I have the feeling you're not enjoying this sleepover very much."

Dream did not, in fact, enjoy this 'sleepover', because not only did it remind him that his only way out of this hell was stuck in here with him, but said way out had been nothing but insufferable since he got here.

"Is this about the bell-"

"You could have gotten us out of here."

Oh yeah, said way out also wasted their one chance at escaping on a fucking bell. Dream hadn't felt such anger in... he doesn't remember actually. He didn't get to feel angry often in here.

"Listen, it was a very important matter-"

He stopped listening at that point. It was the same tirade every time about clout and viewership and whatever that he honestly could care less about. Staring at and counting the cracks in the obsidian seems like a very interesting activity.

"Hey, are you listening?"

1... 2... 3...

"Dude."

4... 5... 6...

"How long are you gonna ignore me?"

7... 8- wait, didn't he count that one already?

"Look at me at least."

No, he doesn't think he will. Because then the bell will be within view, and Dream knows that if he wasn't so pathetically weak, either the bell or Techno would have been thrown into the lava by now. But he is, so he'll throw the next best thing: his body. And fuck whatever the pig might have to say about it.

"Dreeeeeam-"

"WHAT."

He whipped his head so fast his neck hurt a little. He was fully prepared to... well now he doesn't remember, because of all faces he expected Techno to make...

The fuckboy face wasn't one of them.

"Nooo don't be angry, you're so sexy haha."

Oh God, he just died and went to limbo didn't he?

He wasn't sure when exactly he collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in a mix of wheezes and coughing, but Techno was now hovering over him in panic.

"Dream please don't die, I don't want the last thing you ever saw to have been that face-"

Oh, if there was one thing he would make sure not to forget, it would have been that face.

~~~~~

"Man, I'm starving. When do we get food in here again?"

"Um, I don't know really. I guess whenever Sam is in the mood?"

"What."

"Yeah."

Sam hasn't dropped food a single time since he was locked in here. Well, add 'food' to the basic human rights Dream isn't getting. They're really treating this like a bucket list aren't they?

"It's... You'll get used to it."

Dream gives him some potatoes from his inventory, to Techno's absolute delight. At least Sam has great taste, he'll give him that. But...

"...They're raw."

"Well, obviously."

Listen. He loves potatoes. He'd say he loves them to death, if he could die. No matter how you cook them, they turn out delicious. But raw? He'd only eat them raw if it was a life-or-death situation AND he somehow had no source of heat at his disposal, and the likelihood of that situation happening is practically zero. So yeah, he doesn't like to eat them raw.

"And that's all you get?"

"If you can't eat it-"

Ah, those famous words. Now, he's fairly certain that Dream didn't mean it as a challenge, but at this point Techno is just too competitive to see it any other way. Look, you don't get to his level by being passive, okay? So it's perfectly reasonable.

What wasn't reasonable was the taste of this potato because what in the Blood God's name is this.

"What the hell is this."

"...A potato?"

"No, this is a fucking travesty."

And what a sight it was, the Technoblade swearing and ranting about potatoes, of all things. Dream could only last until "mossy cobblestone tastes better than this dry ass, stinky ass garbage" before he lost it. You gotta give him credit for lasting this long at least. Technoblade was too busy ranting to care either way.

~~~~~

This can't be happening.

"Dream."

"What."

He tries to sound neutral, but Techno can hear the snicker in his voice.

"You don't have to do this."

Surely he can reconsider-

"On the contrary, it has to be done."

Dream places a single card on the pile, which happens to be his last one. A Wild Draw 4, to rub salt into the wound. Techno decides that ending on that card should be illegal.

"Remember the deal. No bell for the rest of the day."

"NOOOOOOO!"

Unfortunately, that had been the condition he had to agree to in order to get Dream to play. Because apparently he was "ringing it all the fucking time and it was driving me crazy". There's that, and the threat that Dream would jump in the lava again if he refused. So clearly he had a choice in the matter.

He knew that there was a chance he could lose... but he had deemed it low enough to ignore it. How could he not expect the resident chessmaster of the SMP to utterly trounce him in UNO? He was a fool, and now he has to think about how to make up for the lost clout and money.

At least, judging from the quiet snickers, someone finds his misery funny. He finds consolation in knowing that he may have lost the battle but he won the war. In a way.

~~~~~

"So I almost got mauled to death but that was how I met Steve."

Dream stares at him the way Phil does when he does something particularly outlandish and he fails to see why.

"Can I ask a question."

"Sure."

"Why would the first thing you do upon running into a starving polar bear be hugging it?"

Of course he would question it, because obviously Techno's superior intellect is confusing to the common mind. He just really likes animals, okay? Steve's fur looked so soft and fluffy he just had to touch it, he almost got his face torn off and Phil never let him live that down. But he'll sooner accept governments than let Dream know that. He doesn't want to embarrass himself too much.

"See Dream, I live by a simple philosophy."

"Long live anarchy?"

"No. Well yes, but not just that."

Dramatic silence.

"Any animal is huggable if you aren't a coward."

Dream chokes on his potato, the only one he had eaten today, and Techno worries for a second before he realises that Dream is actually laughing.

"Tech- what-" His body is shaking. "-what is wrong with you??"

"It all started when I was born-"

~~~~~

And it's enough to send Dream rolling on the ground. It wasn't even that funny, but he supposes that prison does a number on you, and Dream's sense of humor was already terrible to begin with.

...Okay, now he had to make sure that the teletubby didn't laugh himself to death.

At the end of the day- at least Techno assumes it's the end of the day, he doesn't know how trustworthy his internal clock is anymore- the two inmates of Pandora's Vault are about ready to fall asleep, but Techno has one last thing to do before that.

"Dream, come here for a minute."

Said man gives him such a wary look that he almost feels insulted.

"...Why?"

"I won't bite, ya know."

"That's... debatable."

Bruh.

"Just get over here."

And Dream complies without any further complaints. Techno hopes he didn't sound too harsh, but his cellmate wasn't shivering uncontrollably, so he thinks he's in the clear.

"What?"

Techno lays his cape down on the very uncomfortable obsidian floor. Seriously, laying down for an hour is enough to make his joints ache. 0/10 would not recommend. How did Dream- right, he doesn't have a choice.

"What are you doing?"

"Making this prison less of a living hell. Come lay down."

"...I'm fine."

Why are you being so difficult, Techno wants to ask, even though he can guess the answer. When was the last time anyone did something remotely nice for him without any catch? Especially in here?

"Stop being difficult and sleep with me already."

Silence.

"...Pft."

"You know what I meant."

In his defense, everyone has their moments, and his usually don't happen that often.

"Stop being so difficult and-"

"Just... get over here. My cape is really soft."

"Is that why you wear it all the time?"

"...Among other things."

But mostly because it was really soft.

Dream still seemed apprehensive about the whole thing, and while usually Techno would have respected his wishes and left him be... the sight of his rival curling up in a corner of the cell, obviously trying to not aggravate his injuries as he did, was saddening even to him. Prime, he's really not good at this... but Dream probably definitely needs it.

So he pulls his roommate into a side hug, which is honestly the best he can manage without ruining his image. It's awkward, Dream is way too stiff, and maybe now would be the time to say something before embarrassment kills either or both of them. Something reassuring, comforting to help Dream relax in his presence for example.

"This is gonna be the best sleepover you've ever had."

...But the day he stops relying on humor for any kind of social interaction is the day it'll either stop working or get him killed.

"...This is so stupid."

And today was not that day.

Dream lets out a laugh, shaky but genuine, and relaxes. Techno sees that as a win. Since he's stuck here for a while, might as well make his favorite teletubby's life in here more bearable.

And it's finally over! It only took me... *looks at calendar* ...time is an illusion. Idk if I'm really happy with this, but on the bright side, it's... done? Now I really wanna continue that endersmile fanfic as I got some ideas, hopefully it won't take as long? God I am a writing disaster

Also if you saw any mistakes... no you didn't :)

#dreblr #technoblr #rivalsblr #rivals duo #keo's writing #techno angrily ranting about potatoes is hilarious to me #i hc him as being very passionate about them #so he takes them very seriously #look everyone portrays c!techno as this calm and collected warrior #he farmed potatoes for 14 hours straight he definitely has dumbass energy #tfw you don't know how to be funny

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ichorai · 3 years

Text

hi, everybody !! i honestly didn't expect to hit this milestone so soon but since i didn't really get to celebrate 4k with you guys, i decided to celebrate 4.2k !! that's right <3 420(0) followers <3 childish, i know KJWLKSDF

thank you all so much for sticking with me and my teeny little blog :( idk what i did to deserve so many of you following me but !!! i wanted to say thank you guys for everything by opening reqests !!

under the read more cut is a list of dialogue prompts + alternate universes you can request ! send in an ask with a number and a letter (optional) with a person and i'll write you a little drabble <3 (open for ateez, bts, and red velvet!)

it'd also be great if yall could send in asks with characters from my previous fics (i.e rivers over stones' jungkook, cellmates' san, of mages and swords' taehyung, etc.)! not obligatory, ofc !!

dialogue prompts.

"i'm not going to kill you. tempted, i admit, but i'm not going to."

"put the gun down."

"promise me you'll leave."

"i thought you weren't in love with me anymore."

"it's kill or be killed out here. you understand, don't you?"

"think you can take me on? let's dance, baby."

"i like that you're afraid of me."

"soulmates don't exist. and if they did, you're the last person fate would pair me up with."

"why are you being so... sweet? what did you do this time?"

"press me up against a wall and kiss me breathless. or we can go to that yoga class because we have a two-for-one coupon. i'm not picky."

"sometimes i just feel like you're too good to be true."

"can you stop pretending like you hate me? we're literally married."

"i take it you stopped caring about me a long time ago."

"you're my distraction. i'm sorry you thought you were anything more than that."

"if i wanted you dead, the floors would be red by now."

"don't look at me like i'm a hero. i don't deserve that."

"can you put some fucking clothes on?"

"well, contrary to popular belief, i actually have a heart."

"you fixed me." "well, i couldn't just leave you broken, could i?"

"you almost started an apocalypse and you want to order pizza hut?" "... what, would you rather have domino's?"

"i wrote a song for you. well, i didn't actually write it. might have googled up the lyrics to an ed sheeran song. it's the thought that counts, right?"

"it could be worse." "agree to disagree, darling."

"please tell me that's not your blood. wait, no. please tell me that is your blood."

"you have a peculiar way of luring people into bed with you."

"you're one of the most deadliest people in the world and you're working at an ice cream parlor."

"okay, grumpy-pants, will you stop frowning if i stay with you?"

"don't let me go."

"did you miss me?" "everybody thinks you're dead." "didn't answer my question, but i miss you too."

"i know you don't trust me anymore, but i have something to tell you."

"you're a softie deep down. well, i know you could crush me with one hand but you're still a softie to me."

"are we about to kiss right now?" "you're... you're stepping on my foot."

"i'm aware that we're 'enemies' as you like to call it, but i'll have you know that i'm quite fond of you."

"tell me you're real."

"we used to be friends. i don't know what we are now."

"i think i'm in love with you." "could you maybe tell me that when i'm not showering?"

"stop staring at me." "why? does it make you nervous?"

"you make me... feel things that i'm not supposed to. it scares me."

"no, it's alright. i love it, i really do."

"you look ridiculous."

"we work together, nothing more."

"the potion didn't work, did it?"

"we can't do this. what if somebody finds us?"

"where are we?"

"let them go, you bastard!"

"it's three in the morning, what are you doing up?"

"i've waited for you all these years. i'm done waiting."

"i genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not and that's honestly terrifying. don't smile at me like that, jesus."

"you're sexy with a weapon."

"nightmares again? come here."

"what we're doing may be illegal but at least you look amazing."

alternate universes (optional). a. angel au b. apocalypse au c. artist au d. assassin au e. bookstore au f. circus au g. crime au h. demon au i. doctor au j. fantasy au k. ghost au l. hogwarts au m. knight au n. magic au o. medieval au p. pirate au q. reincarnation au r. roommates au s. royalty au t. soulmates au u. space au v. sports au w. superhero au x. villain au y. vampire au z. youtuber au

written drabbles:

the magic of trust - namjoon + 19 + n

mint and minecraft - san + 7 + t

whittled by stars - yunho + 8 + q

supervillains and unicorn bags - wooyoung + 36 + x

florentis - hongjoong + 24 + n

copped out - mingi + 4 + w

sin to win - jin + 50 + a

duck curtains - hongjoong + 35 + r

green sofa - yunho + 31 + l

candlelit - seonghwa + 34 + r

boxed in - mingi + 40 + i

bambi eyes - jungkook + 36 + l

ballroom of ghosts - taehyung + 32 + s

send me an request !!

#milestone celebration #thank you all so much <3 #ily guys :(#ateez x reader #bts x reader #red velvet x reader

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saby-chan · 3 years

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Why the ATLA comics fail when it comes to Zuko and his family

To whom ever took their time to actually stop and read this post, thank you in advance for not skipping my post and willing to stay and read my humble opinion! I hope I won’t disappoint you!

As a relatively newcomer to the ATLA fanbase since 2020, I’ve come across a lot of interesting debates, comments and rants about the show, characters and fandom in general, but nothing has captivated me as much as the dumpster-on-fire that are the ATLA comics, more specifically: The Promise and The Search.

On one hand we have the hardcore fans who want them to be animated or serialized into the Netflix live action, praising the comics for the new views and subject matters they’ve brought into the show’s lore, while on the other hand we have the furious Azula fandom who is really angry for the fact that best girl didn’t get the redemption arc she rightfully deserved so much after the painful event that was the Last Agni Kai and the even more angry fans of the Urzai ship (yeah, the people who actually ship Zuko’s parents unironically) who hated the retconning of the show’s cannon since the comics basically took a huge fat dump on what was previously established as official cannon, when the Search entered the scene, but between these two sides, who has the more valid point? In the end, are the comics good cannon or bad written fanfiction?

Well... Here are my two cents on this matter since I myself happen to be an Azula and Zuko fan and had huge expectations from these comics (since I wanted more from my fave hot-headed fiery siblings duo) but ended up disappointed: the comics are indeed a huge mess and actually bad written fanfiction when it comes to Zuko and his family! Don’t click off yet, because I actually documented the reasons why exactly the comics fail in this area:

1. The author of these comics is not part of the BryKe duo

Yes, I would like to start with the fact that if you actually take a second to look up who in the heck took the time to write these two books, you won’t find Bryan, nor Mike, but a fellow man named Gene Yang. This is important because while the wiki of both The Promise and The Search state BryKe as the creators, that doesn’t mean that they were the actual minds behind these comics, but rather because ATLA is their “baby” and these comics involve their characters, over which they have copyright. Mr. Yang here is the actual brain behind the plot, as the main writer, which explains why we find huuuuge inconsistencies between the show lore and the comics, especially Zuko wise.

My main issue with Mr. Yang isn’t that he isn’t BryKe specifically, but because he did an unforgivable mistake in his writing process: He projected himself into Zuko’s character, based on the relationship Zuko had with his father. This is a documented fact from an interview in which he explains that he sees himself and his dad’s relationship into Zuko and Ozai and used that when writing their interactions and built Zuko’s character in the comics. And this is wrong because when you have an already very developed and complex character such as Zuko, you can’t just come in and be like “Oh, I was an angsty teen just like him in my teenage years, fighting with my dad and whatnot, so he must have the same thought process as me!”. NO! This is bad fanfiction writer behavior! Zuko has his own personality and philosophy, which he developed over the course of 3 seasons and is not defined by only 1 unfortunate aspect of his past, so you can’t just base his whole mindset and actions off of your own personal experience just because you had the same daddy issues he had!

2. The whole “Promise that you will kill me if I turn out like my dad!” nonsense in The Promise

Reason number 2 why these comics fail and go under the category of “bad fanfiction” is because they fail to convey the core essence of the source material. The whole point of Zuko’s redemption was that he realized the wrongdoings of his ancestors and his own mistakes. He outgrew his desire of gaining his father’s acknowledgement in favor of choosing his own destiny. Having him worry that he’ll turn into his father is utter nonsense and feels like poor angsty drama material for the sake of angst. At this point in time, Zuko has overcame that obstacle in his life a long time ago and should be at the level where he himself is the “Uncle Iroh” for other people and in no way someone concerned of becoming their own worst enemy!

Not only that, but the whole point of Aang’s journey and the story of the show as a whole was to teach us, the viewers, the importance of forgiveness, empathy and love in life. Aang didn’t spare Ozai, aka “the ultimate evil” just to flex in front of his pals or because he is a “ 12 y/o vegan pacifist monk kid”, but because he knew that killing someone, no matter of what they did or wanted to do, wouldn’t restore balance into the Universe, on the contrary, him killing the villain would have meant perpetuating the “endless cycle of hate” that plagued the world. So having Aang promise to kill his best friend in case “they turned into an evil maniac like their dad” contradicts Aang’s whole character and it’s a nonsense that throws into the trash what we’ve learnt throughout the entire TV series.

3. Azula deserved (and was supposed) to have a redemption ark

This might still be pure speculation, but I count it as a documented reason because I’ve heard quite a few people saying that there should’ve been a book 4 in the show, aka “Book 4: Air”, and no, it wasn’t The Search, but actually Zuko and Azula’s journey as Zuko helps his younger sister heal her broken mind by being her very own “Uncle Iroh”. Sure, they prolly were going to end up looking for Ursa, but the journey should’ve ended with them actually being happy and a family again and not the bs we got in The Search where a still very unstable Azula runs away and becomes the “Next Joker”! The only problem is that M. Night had to pop up and curse the world with his movie, which forced BryKe to delay the project (and eventually abandoned it in favor of Korra).

All in all, either if BryKe had this preplanned or not, it made sense for Azula to get a redemption ark, she deserved it because she was just a broken 14 y/o child! If Katara’s mom’s murderer deserved to be forgiven, so did this poor child who had no fault for what happened to her since she had a dysfunctional family! What Gene Yang did in his poorly written fanfiction was to just antagonize a broken child, turning her into a monster for the sake of friggin angst!

4. The Search is the worst of the two, being flat af character wise

And finally, getting to the point that I personally find the most annoying about these comics: The Search. This one... This one is a mess on a hella lot many levels, and just to list a few: characters are flat as fudge, being either black as vanta black (like Ozai and Azula) or pure white like Gene’s Gary Stue OC, Mr Ikem (or how I like to call him, IKEA man) and his ‘victim’ rendition of Ursa, Azula gets to suffer more for no reason (see reason number 3 to why I find this as a no no), Ursa’s whole character sucks ass (man, I could write a whole thesis on why Yang’s version of her is terrible and doesn’t match the strong woman we got in the show) and Zuko does morally wrong stuff (my man literally used his unstable sister to bribe their dad into spitting info about Ursa... Show Zuko would never do that!;-;)

Oh boy, as a person who’s seen a ton of anime and other media and read many books, I can’t begin on how much I despise this type of writing: flat characters are the worst!

ATLA characters in the show are nothing close to being flat! What I mean by that is that none of them fall perfectly into pure white (aka goodest of good characters with no imperfections) or vanta black (aka lowest and darkest twisted monsters out there), each of them are various shades of grey (like Aang who is a very light grey because despite being a very kind and nice character, he still isn’t a “perfect hero” since he ran away from his duties, practiced tax fraud with Toph, had insecurities and even threatened to kill people on ocassions like with the sand benders who took Appa) and this is a good choice because that prevents them from becoming what’s globally known as Mary Sues and Gary Stues (aka those either “perfect” characters with no flaws and/or unlimited power, or the twisted monsters full of flaws).

And the other reason why many other people hate The Search: it literally negates previously established cannon. And here comes my short essay on why this comic fails Zuko’s family (since we’ve already talked enough about Zuko himself).

In cannon and even interviews with BryKe, it was clearly stated that Zuko’s family was “once happy”. Where is this “once happy” family in The Search? All I see is pain, deception, lies and betrayal, nothing close to anything that resembles happiness. Okay, some of you might come in and say that “It’s because it was never the case! It was only lies and Zuko trying to convince himself that he didn’t live in hell forever!” and here is WHERE YOU WERE ALL WRONG! And why? Because, my dear fella, where were depicted the flashbacks of Zuko’s “happy family” in The Beach? Ember Island. And what do we know and had been even quoted in the show? "Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you." (direct quote from the show). Exactly, no matter who you are or how hard you try, you can’t hide your true self when you are on the Ember Island, best example being Azula, who’s impenetrable though shell cracked and revealed the true vulnerable child that was underneath. If Azula couldn’t resist the “spell of the island”, no one can. So this means that Zuko’s family was indeed happy once and yes, Ozai wasn’t always the douchebag we got to know in Season 3 (I have a whole nother essay on my theories regarding what could be his real past story and why he’s actually the “Zuko” of his generation, based on stuff I gathered from old wiki entries and character analyses I made, but that’s for another time, lemme know if ya’ll are interested).

And what I guess is the biggest proof why The Search did this family’s past trash is comics Ursa herself. My dude, if this woman were indeed the victim of years of endless abuse and never loved her husband, I guarantee you that she would’ve been closer to what we saw in Todoroki’s mom from BNHA and Zuko would’ve gotten that scar or even worse long before the Agni Kai, not from his “daddy dearest”, but from “mommy dearest” herself, because no sane woman would be soo affectionate and attached to a child that’s the perfect copy of their abuser, sepecially appearance wise (again see Todoroki’s mom’s case from BNHA because the stories are really similar) and in no way would’ve she been willing to sacrifice her life for said child’s sake. With this ocassion, I remind ya’ll folks that according to the ancient ATLA cannon wikis on Nick’s site, Ozai was designed with Zuko’s appearance in mind, being meant to be like a “grown up scarless version” of Zuko. So yeah, remember this with a grain of salt that whenever you simp over grown up Zuko, you involuntary simp for Ozai too.

So yeah, I guess this kinda concludes my “not so short” rant about why the comics fail and are bad fanfiction. Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments and if you agree, feel free to leave a like and even reblog.

Bye bye and remember that Momo is the true strongest character of the show!

Saby out.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla comics #zuko #azula #ozai #ursa #fire siblings #the promise #the search #atla rant

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medical-gal · 3 years

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Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

#sorry this is long #but goddammit it needed to be said #suzy's adventures in id

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down)

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products.

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold.

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him.

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth.

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes.

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks.

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended.

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore.

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing.

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register.

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words.

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff.

Damn transphobes.

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect.

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go.

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous.

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and-

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again.

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.”

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar.

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him.

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone.

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen.

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually.

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief. What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried.

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes.

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

#i fixed it #god fucking damn it #dean winchester #destiel #saileen #saileena #sam winchester #castiel #eileen leahy #castiel winchester #jack kline #roweena #my writing #ficlet #deancas #trans dean #trans woman OC #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide mention

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

UC Sunnyhell: Part three

There’ll be Hell to pay

Previous Part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Spike and you haven’t been getting along and it all reaches a boiling point. Harsh words are exchanged but something happens to make you both question your thoughts about the other. Will this be enough to change your perceptions though? College AU

Og request by: @sunflower-stan

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @harpersmariano

Warning: Sex reference, swearing.

He appeared to have no redeeming qualities. His personality was flat, two-dimensional. Like some bully in a kids cartoon. Not that you had particularly looked very hard since your first meeting.

He had upset you. And this ‘revenge’ was all you were thinking about. Your friends had planned it all out with you that night. They were all going to arrive soon and you were pacing with nerves. This could go badly.

You had convinced them to choose the least likely action to get you all into a physical fight. Something that appeared innocent that would annoy him greatly. If he got really mad there would be hell to pay.

They all came over, spreading their stuff around the living room. Taking up as much space as possible because of the way he had all but made you live out of your room rather than face him. They made as much noise as possible and basically tried to antagonise him as much as possible. The way he had with you.

When someone mentioned Angel might show, Spike snapped and stormed out of his room ready for a fight. No bloody way was he coming into his home.

As he opened his mouth, about to speak, he saw something in Xander’s hand. He noticed that you had all been passing around a liquor bottle. He snatched it from Xander.

“That’s mine” He accused.

“Oh no, actually spike, that one over there was yours. My friend Faith supplied this one” Buffy explained, giving him an overly sweet smile as Xander took it back. He scowled between her and his now empty liquor bottle.

“Get out” He snarled.

“You’re not the only one that lives here-” Cordy started in your defense, but she was quickly cut off.

“Fine. We’ll make it a real party. I’ll invite my mates won’t I?”

“You don’t even like them that much” You replied getting to your feet, you had overheard him mutter it to himself when one of them annoyed him again.

“Well, I’ll like them a lot more when they round up your little gang of-” He smirked at their reactions, “Or, everyone could just bugger off I suppose. Wouldn’t need to invite ‘em then”

Everyone shared concerned looks. They had heard about the types of people he had around him. They looked at you as you broke the stare-down you and Spike were sharing. You just nodded and they scrambled to leave. Making sure that you knew you could call them at any time.

Once they left he smirked and began to turn to leave back to his bedroom. But you wouldn’t let him go. Not this time.

“Will you just grow up!?” You screamed as he turned around and closed the space between you. If there was hell to pay after these words you would happily go skint. He should hear them. After everything.

“Yeah, ‘cause you and your little bloody clique are right grown ups, yeah? So grown-up you whisper about people behind their backs!”

“What?”

“I’m disgusting to you, yeah? You’re such a bloody ponce – like them, not even got the stones to say it-” He said and you realised he had heard what you said about him to Willow and Buffy. You didn’t think about it, you just shouted back.

“You want me to say it to your face?!”

“Yeah, might be a change from you being such a back-stabbing bitch”

“Fine! You’re horrible, nasty and so fucking inconsiderate! You think the whole world’s against you but we don’t care! We just don’t care!”

“Yeah, well-”

“I’m not done – you’re so arrogant! You think the whole world revolves around you. Well, I live here too! I pay rent I deserve some space in my own home! I tried so hard to be nice to you and all you’ve ever done is throw it back in my face!”

“Oh yeah, everybody kick Spike when he’s down” he muttered despite him asking you to say what you thought. You didn’t realise but one of the people he frequently had sex with had finished it with him for the final time earlier that day, “You don’t bloody know me!”

“I don’t want to!” You shouted, this time when you turned you really did just walk away. He watched you go, eyes lingering on you as you walked away.

He snapped himself out of it, jaw tensing and you both slammed your doors on each other. He infuriated you. Completely annoyed you. Just like you angered him. Infuriated him. He couldn’t believe that he would have to live the rest of the year with you.

You had both started this because you didn’t know each other. You had assumed. Not wanted to even try to know each other. First impressions are hard to get over. You had appeared to him as some do-gooder that wanted to “fix” his immoral ways. You hung out with those clean-cut-9-to-5-losers that never gave him the time of day.

You had wrongly assumed all he cared for was sex and causing trouble. Hurting people just for the fun of it. You never tried to delve deeper. Think about why he acted this way. Like you said, you didn’t care.

Weirdly, since that night, he kind of respected you a little more after your outburst. You showed that you did in fact have a backbone when he had assumed you had yours removed like most of the people on campus at birth.

But you stood firm, you were just usually nice to people because it just felt obvious to you to treat people with kindness until they gave you a reason not to. And, boy, had he given you reason not to.

As you were thinking this. He was thinking about you. He had always been that way, the line between hatred and... no. He didn’t care. He was indifferent about you. Or, that’s what he kept telling himself. Wouldn’t even entertain a thought to the contrary.

After this argument, he just kept out of your way. You barely said two words to each other, you just lived your separate lives.

You had realised how the other saw them. How there appeared to be faults there that couldn’t be bridged. You had gotten bored of fighting. It was starting to cut closer to each other’s bones. You were exhausted from it. So you kept away from each other.

You had barely spoken for almost an entire month. If it wasn’t for the occasional musical soundtrack or the smell of smoke neither of you would know the other was in.

That was, until something happened. Something neither of you would have ever thought possible. It all began one Saturday evening, at an open mic night.

You arrived at the dimly lit bar and walked in a little tentatively. Your heart was already beginning to race and you still had a while until it was your turn. You were finally going to do it. You were going to perform something you had written.

You smiled at someone that you recognised, he came over to you greeting you excitedly. The guy was friendly enough but you just weren’t able to form that connection you longed for with him. He was very loud and dramatic – a one-man show, if you will. You struggled to keep up with him in conversation.

“Great turn out tonight!” He gushed as you looked around at the two other people that had turned up. You nodded distractedly as you saw a figure at the bar. You recognised the figure but just couldn’t place it.

That was, until he turned around and caught the light. The bleach blonde hair. That leather duster that appeared to be surgically attached to him.

You caught each other’s eye. Scowling at the other. Why would he possibly be here? Was he going to heckle everyone? Start a bar fight?

The truth was, Spike would come every month or so. To read his writings, his poems. He did this because nobody rarely turned up and the tender took a shine to him and offered half priced beer.

He took his beer and sat in his usual corner. Hiding until it was time for him to get up and speak. He watched you, burning holes in you as you walked up to the bar yourself, asking the guy what he recommended. He stared at you. It was a student bar, there wasn’t an exclusive wine list.

You rolled your eyes and just asked for some shots. Three, to be exact. You threw them back one after the other. Spike raised his eyebrows and then smirked when your entire body appeared to shiver in reaction. You went and sat near the front, facing away from him for a while.

Both of you began to feel more and more nervous about speaking. Especially with the other there. Suddenly you got to your feet, full of nerves you needed to have a breath of fresh air.

He saw you leave and this relieved him. You must have become too nervous. He could go up to speak now that you were gone.

And just in time, his name was announced and he got up swigging from his beer as he walked. Glaring at the enthusiastic guy that had been talking to you who had put both of his thumbs up at Spike as he got up to where the mic was set up.

You returned just as he started to speak. But you sat down without him seeing it at first. You heard those words. The breath was knocked out of your body. The words spoke to your soul. The feeling behind them, it was all you had longed to find. Someone with a mind that expressed things the way you did… but the words were his.

He spoke with such passion, such feeling. The words were incredible and you couldn’t believe they were coming from his mouth. You had goosebumps and you just stared, suddenly finding yourself really looking at him. At the way he spoke. The way he looked.

You held your card containing your own words to your chest, there was no way you would be able to go up after that.

You had listened to his words, all but swooning. Hanging on to every last syllable less it dissolve into the air and you would forget it forever.

How could someone with that much of a nasty attitude have so much heart hidden away? You were in awe. His words, the feelings behind them. It was like the musicals you loved so much. Exploring love and loss and heart.

He caught your eye as he walked from the stage. He hesitated, realising what you had seen but just walked past you to the bar. He ordered his body weight in liquor and just sat there.

Then they announced your name. You jolted with shock, still reeling from Spike’s eloquent words. You cleared your throat, nodded at yourself and stepped up to the microphone. He rolled his eyes at you turning away.

Then he heard what you had to say. Such meaningful prose shared with the world. Baring yourself so raw. The words you spoke had real heart. Real meaning, more so than he thought you had been capable of.

His eyes were on you now. Only you. He didn’t even pick up his beer as he listened.

The spotlight was blinding though so you never saw him look at you in the way he did. That flash of understanding, the way that he could empathise with the way you spoke. How you wrote.

You both returned home separately. Neither of you could stop thinking about the other. Those words. Those feelings. The way he looked up there. The way you did. Almost ethereal to the other. It was confusing. Wrong.

You definitely didn’t speak to each other at all after this. You didn’t know what to say. You were so torn. Between what you knew about him and what you had just heard Had you been wrong about him?

His words had stopped time. His thoughts, feelings. They meant something. They had settled somewhere inside you and you weren’t sure if they would ever leave.

You were daydreaming about his words again, looking out of the window as you waited for your water to boil. You hadn’t realised the man himself had walked into the room behind you. You had spun around and overbalanced.

You tripped and he put a hand out to steady you, before snatching his hand away immediately in horror. You just stared, frowning.

“Watch it” he said, but he turned frowning at himself. He stared at you for a second as if he wanted to apologise but then he turned on his heel and left. Your words, the one that you had spoken had made him rethink. You weren’t just some plastic copy of Buffy and her sorority sisters. You weren’t shallow to him like Angel and Xander or just ‘one of the boys’.

You had heart. You had thoughts and feelings that transcended this mundane part of the world. You had such a beautiful mind that spoke to his own. He was just fighting against it as much as he could.

Since a few more occurrences like this, lingering glances. Weird silences where things felt unsaid, your courage began to grow.

You had to say something. You would only regret it if you didn’t. You feel like you had misjudged him. That he was hard to live with but that there was a promise there. You knocked on his door and began to open it.

“Bugger off!”

“Uh, sorry, I… I know we haven’t been getting on but-”

“Understatement of the century that” He grumbled, looking up from where he was lying on his side in his bed. He was flipping through a magazine.

“I just… your words. The other night. I couldn’t not say something. They were beautiful”

“You’re bloody hilarious” He said harshly, jaw tensing. He felt that you were teasing him. Making fun of him for his poetry. He was used to it.

You didn’t realise but his past was the reason he was so defensive. Had to harden himself. Because they all used to tease him for his poetry. For his soft side. Until he hid it completely. Didn’t allow anyone to see him that vulnerable (apart from the two patrons of the pub the open-mic night was held in – he had to express it someway).

“No. I mean it, I’m not- I wouldn’t make fun of you. I’m really not like that, I loved your poems I was wondering if you were going again in two weeks-”

“What so we can skip there together through the merry fields of glee?”

“I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered” You shook your head, he saw that you were genuinely embarrassed and upset. You should have known, just because he could write and his heart wasn’t as completely hardened as you thought didn’t mean that he suddenly wanted to be your friend. Just because you suddenly had one common interest.

“Y/n” he said and you turned back, your hope lifting slightly, “close the door on your way out”

Your face crumbled slightly and you turned and slammed it shut. You had wanted so desperately to have a connection with someone, on that level. That you would even chase after it at even the slightest glimpse of feeling from someone you didn’t like.

You couldn’t see him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About that offer. He was so lonely, no matter what he filled his time with he wanted to be able to trust someone. Desperately. But they always disappointed him eventually. He didn’t want to give you or anyone the power to do something like that.

There was a hint of understanding that began between you though since you went to tell him your thoughts. You spoke to him as if he was an equal, for the first time in a long time that someone had. And he let you. You looked at him, past the front he put on. It was only a glimpse but you felt the anger melt away. It had been exhausting living that way.

He wouldn’t dare verbalise his understanding. He did make some subtle changes though. He didn’t blast his music full volume as much. Spent more nights out, rather than bringing as many people home. He was still messy but he left a space for you to live your own life too. Which was really all you could ask for.

You had both humanised yourselves to the other. Let the other into your mind. Your perspectives. He didn’t mention what he had started to do and you wouldn’t dare, but you had definitely noticed. You had formed a kind of truce. And understanding of sorts.

The whisper of a possibility of friendship kind of hung in the air between you. It was there, you could both feel it but it wasn’t solid. You couldn’t grab onto it. It was transient, floating all around. An abstract concept.

For one of you to make the first move, to try and make some kind of amends. It would mean something too great. You wouldn’t push it, you were still unsure.

You were sat in your elective class. You hadn’t really been sure what to take so you ended up in this one. The dreaded paired presentation were looming.

Nobody usually sat next to you, none of your friends took the class so you were facing the embarrassing walk to the front to ask the professor if there was any one else that needed a partner.

That was, until a guy walked in. He was tall and he appeared to take a lot of care on styling his hair. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him in the class before and this was confirmed to you when he stood at the front scanning the rows for a spare seat before narrowing on the seat beside you.

He walked near you and awkwardly asked if the seat was free before he sat beside you. Just as the professor announced that the person sat beside you would be your presentation partner. He turned to you and nodded in acknowledgement that you were paired.

“Angel” He offered his name and it clicked. You had met him before, you think. At a frat party you went to with Buffy so she could try and find him. Either way you had heard so much about him you felt as if you already knew him.

“Y/n” You replied and he nodded his head before it clicked with him too.

“You’re Buffy’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, she’s like a big sister” You smiled and he nodded. You spoke amiably for a while rather than actually doing the work you had been assigned at first.

Actually, you found that you were doing most of the talking but you felt comfortable with him in a way you hadn’t expected you would. The guy was pleasant perhaps a bit more reserved than you would have expected for this ‘popular frat guy’ everyone had made him out to be.

“You’re the one stuck living with Spike, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s…”

You didn’t really know how to finish that sentence now. You had formed a kind of truce. A tenuous understanding. He annoyed you still in some sense but you were intrigued by him. You wanted to understand him. See what else he may be hiding deep down. Why he was the way he was. Angel just nodded, presuming that the tailing off was you implying how horrible Spike was. He had never liked him.

You weren’t friends. You weren’t sure that you and Spike would ever end up friends.

#UC Sunnyhell #Spike x reader #Spike btvs #spike x you #Spike imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #buffyverse #gender neutral #gn

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

Note

hi! read your last ask and you said that you took up creative writing classes so you might have a wider knowledge about this but i was wondering when u mentioned different writing styles (like minimalistic, hightened imagery, linear vilennete and all of that) could you maybe explain the difference and what they really mean and maybe examples in our own levihan nation and writers? this might be asking for too much but i was pretty lost and i'd like to know more about all that. however you are def free to ignore this too!

Did you just ask me to write a comprehensive poetics essay, Anon? (I love writing about writing lmao)

Super long post ahead, and I’ll be citing certain fanfics that I’ve read so far and those that I think somehow exemplifies all the different writing styles I mentioned in the previous post.

First off, the ones I listed beforehand (minimalistic prose, heightened imagery, poetic language, linear narrative, non-linear vignettes) aren’t the only types of writing styles. There are more if you consider the variations of tone (humor/comedy, sentimental, macabre, noir etc), narration/perspective (first person, second person, third person omniscient/limited), and language (dialogue-heavy or action/scene-driven). And the nice thing is that you can actually use of one or two of them in your work---or all of them, if you’re feeling bold.

As Hange always loves to do: “Let’s experiment!”

--------

I’ll start with minimalistic prose. It is what it is: short, clear, and concise. Think less is more. You have an economy with words where you disregard most adverbs and focus more on the context to make way for meaning, thus allowing the readers to create their own interpretations of your writing. I think the method here is to write your intended draft first, and then cut the unnecessary words to flesh out the scene even more.

Notice how @stereobone wrote this paragraph of Black Dog (an Eruri fic):

Isabel's voice wakes him, brother, brother, has him sitting upright in bed and grabbing for the knife under his mattress. He braces himself for the attack before he realizes there isn't one. There is nothing in the darkness but him and his heavy, panicked breathing. Levi's heart feels like it's trying to beat its way out of his chest. He drops the knife on the mattress and shuts his eyes and tries not to think about Farlan's bloody resigned face before he was eaten. He tries not to think about how he left them. How it's his fault.

It’s very simplistic in language; the paragraph lets you focus on Levi’s innermost thoughts while he deals with an external action (ie, having nightmares). The author hasn’t unraveled the rest of the plot yet, but you already know where the tension is coming from.

Next is heightened imagery. If you’re familiar with the different figures of speech (metaphor, simile, personification, hyperbole, etc), then this is where they all come into play. I think the challenge here is being able to balance it well with the text itself and make sure that the imagery actually clarifies the context of the paragraph instead of convoluting the intended meaning.

Here’s an excerpt from A Dangerous Game by just_quintessentially_me:

Hanji watched Levi, standing there, head bent and bloodied handkerchief pressed against his arm, and was reminded, irrationally, of a night years ago. When her parents had taken her to the circus. [. . . .] Holding her parent’s hands, she’d gaped, head craned back as she watched the spectacle, a cacophonous mixture of sound and color. At the center of it all, she’d spied a boy. Among the twisting colors and tricks, he alone, was still. [. . . .] The boy was high above, balancing on a platform atop a long pole. In front of him, stretched an audaciously thin rope. Below, no net waited to catch him.

[. . . .]

When Levi looked up, his expression was set - like the boy before the tightrope. And she knew, with sinking certainty, he was going to take the step. Into thin air.

Gray eyes met her gaze and held it.

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

At the door, Kenny smiled.

See how the powerful imagery of the boy on the tightrope was able to fuel the tension in that moment among Levi, Hange, and Kenny?

I think poetic language is akin to heightened imagery, except that the former is more focused on the actual language. It’s very lyrical, wherein you can actually hear the lulling song of the sentences in a rhythm. One of my favorite works that does this is Deep sea baby by @smallblip. Here she makes use of various setting and scenery to create this entire atmosphere of Levi and Hange’s relationship:

Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite.

The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together.

The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks.

One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present.

"Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea.

He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

It’s hauntingly poetic, the way the author is able to connect the metaphor in “a river of words” to the actual body of water right in front of Levi and Hange. Good poetic language is able to tighten up the texts together while keeping the sentence structure flowing with apt figures of speech.

When it comes to narratives, it only comes down to linear or non-linear. See how @lostcauses-noregrets does her opening statement in Trains (also an Eruri fic):

Levi hates trains. To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains. They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people. People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated. But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

It’s a short fic and it’s very dependent on the linearity of events happening. But with that banger of a first sentence, the beginning already gives you enough of an idea of Levi’s pet peeve in the story, which in this case, is trains.

Here’s another hot and steamy fic called keep him waiting by keobuns that shows a linear narrative:

He’s sitting with them in the back of the lab, nursing a cup of tea — it’s still pretty full, and even cold now, for he was far too distracted listening to Hanji talk to properly drink — when he sees it. Hanji’s too preoccupied with overexplaining the same Titan experiment they’ve gone over a hundred times to notice his stare. They just continue on and on and on, gesturing with their hands, pointing with their fingers, flexing their wrists…

Ah. Levi has to bring his teacup to his lips to hide the way his lips tremble. Hanji has incredibly nice hands.

The entire story just revolves around Levi simping for Hange’s hands and how it all goes down from there. But you as a reader are kept wanting more with every paragraph and every sentence that the author constructs (and trust me, it’s not just the sexual tension between Levi and Hange that keeps us going).

Now, as much as I love the straightforwardness of linear prose, non-linear writing brings a different round of ideas onto the table. It can create recollections from flashbacks, heighten the perspective or interior turmoil of a character due to trauma or grief, or even just re-invent what-if scenes that the characters have imagined themselves.

Gnossiene by @thatalmondgirl is one of my all-time favorite Rivetra fics. In this excerpt, you will see how she switches between the past and the present, and how it affects Petra’s POV as a conflicted character:

Contrary to popular belief (fuck Auruo) Petra actually didn’t cry easily.

Alright, she could admit that at some times, she was...emotional. It was far from a weakness, but even she could admit that they sometimes got in the way and walled off all rational thought. Anger, frustration, sadness, hell, even happiness. The only one she could easily compartmentalise away was fear, which probably stemmed from her military career. Even so. It was never easy to separate all the others from her actions, think from a clean slate like the Commander could do, like the captain. [. . . ] Petra groaned, splayed out across her bed. She drew her arm across her eyes, willing the tears to go away. She’d already blown through her tissue box.

“Petra, a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Mama sat on the end of her bed, with Petra on the floor between her legs. Even though Petra argued firmly that she was old enough to brush her own hair, Mama had insisted. Unfortunately, Petra wasn’t old enough - and probably never would be - to disagree with her mother.

“I know, Mama.” Petra grumbled.

“I don’t think you do. Else you wouldn’t be crying, would you?”

[. . . .]

“But a man shouldn’t complete you when you complete yourself. Maybe he’s an extension to your house. So you’ll be sad if the extension is compromised or burns down. But you still have the main house. And if it’s strong, the main house can still be standing even after the worst storm.”

Aside from Mama’s crazy metaphors that sometimes didn’t make sense, her message hit home. Even if it hit home years later.

See how it switched in between the before and after?

An off-shoot of non-linear writing are vignettes (a layering of scenes separated by section breaks) wherein this writing style allows writers to curate scenes in terms of fragments, creating some kind of mosaic for the readers once they finally see the big picture. Nakimochiku’s I’m leaving, are you coming with me? stacks up scenes of interactions between Levi and Hange, enough to depict the kind of relationship that they have as young lovers in a school setting. You can string these fragments together, rearrange them in a different order, but in the end, you will still get the author's clear goal of highlighting how Levi and Hange’s relationship develops over time.

Those are the styles that I mentioned in my previous posts, but as I’ve told you, there’s more to writing than those, so I’ll give a short run-through of other methods in writing.

Whether it’s dialogue-heavy works such as from my window to yours, or action-driven scenes like Carnivores (a Levi x Reader fic by CaptainDegenerate) that propel the story forward, we as readers should be able to follow through the actual storyline that the authors intend to take us.

A third-person limited (we listen to Hange’s thoughts in Clockwork by @tundrainafrica) vis-à-vis an all-knowing/omniscient narration (the moon is dark by @sayonarasanity alternates the perspective of Levi and Hange) should be able to make us understand why the author chose this particular kind of point-of-view in order to tell the story.

And lastly, having a solid and consistent tone throughout the work (the macabre of Even Humanity’s Strongest could make mistakes by Rimeko versus the sweet sentimentality of Flowers for You by @fanmoose12) should be able to set the atmosphere that the authors want us to imbibe as we read through their works.

So there’s your crash course on writing and reading. Enjoy? :)

#levihan #writing #fanfic #fanfictions #fanfiction #ao3 #djmarinizela #mine

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monday-headache · 3 years

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Hey Simon! Thank you for the amazing ask <3 Right back at you:

I love that you're writing/arting about characters that have never met in canon (Gaige and Sasha, Fiona and Scarlett). What drew you to writing these characters together? And are there any more that you'd love to explore one day? :D

Hey Sarah, glad it made you smile. I want to have more interaction with the fandom so I’ll try to make this a regular, so please be free to send me questions whenever. I’d love to read your thoughts ;)

And Omg, that’s a fantastic question as well but, be aware, this is gonna be an essay as well.

Mhh where to start, where to start.

So first things first, My headcanon of why I think Gaige and Sasha would be best friends started a pretty long while ago, way before I even got gently pushed towards the Idea of really starting to write about it in the first place. Because you must know, even though Strays is my first longshot, it is also my very first fanfc I’ve ever written in like ever. So no matter how shitty, great or whatever it will turn out to be or how well others will be, Strays has and will always have a special place in my heart. And I’m not gonna rush things either, even when the fandom will die out, my Ideas for it will flow ;)

But yeah how it started. To put it simply Gaige was my first character In Borderlands ever that I played myself. I knew about the Lore of 1 and I’ve played 1 with a friend by the time it came out, but I played 1 myself AFTER I finished 2 So that may be a big reason, why I have such an open spot for Gaige. But also because she is fun, quirky extreme, punky, loves robots and tech... to put it simple a lot of traits I really love about a character. Her backstory with the science fair was so fresh and funny, and it may be one of my favorite spoken dialogue interactions heard over echo cassette’s

Then after Bl2 my love for Borderlands continued, played 1, played TPS and then... There was Tales, and by god do I loved Tales, and I hella still do. You probably know the feeling yourself. And with the love for the game, came a huge love for it’s cast. Like seriously I think besides Tector there isn’t really a character where I was going like, “ugh this one is trash” on the contrary. And besides my obvious love for the main 2 characters, there was a big love for the Deutagonist’s of this masterpiece. Namely Sasha and Loaderbot.

Loaderbot may have officially taken the spot for me as most favorite Robot in video game history ever (and Gortys for the most precious character ever). Like his whole segment of kidnapping them, forcing them to tell the truth, only to show how much he had grieved, how betrayed he felt and that he did all of tha for his loved ones. Man say what you will about him, but damn he was written perfectly. I was blown away.

Secondly is of course, as you might have guessed it Sasha. I could go lengths for her too, how much I love and admire her character, how real she felt as a sister, a pandoran and last but not least as a human. Sasha felt to me like the most well rounded out character of the 6 (pls don’t hate me for it guys) From the punk rebellious attitude, to learning that she had an anti Hyperion pirate radio, that she used to broadcast bad things that happens in her neighbourhood, to her adapting her morals and learn that even in the most corrupt organisations there are still normal people struggling with their own life, and then progressing from it. And lastly after everything was at loss, the money the plan, she was willing to sacrifice her whole life for a dear friend/s, even on her dying breath putting both Rhys and her Sister at ease and in her last moments. Amazing.

Oooh boy and that was just the prelude to it all XD

After that I noticed a lot of similarities, between characters. Sasha and Loaderbot for instance are both pragmatic, put the lives of their loved ones over their own, love tech, are socially open people while holding back on information and emotion. Not to mention the scenes in 2 and 3 and also 4 and 5 where it is slightly hinted how well Sasha and Loaderbot work together, without sharing much words. So naturally the Idea was born that Sash and LB became quite close.

And the same goes for Sasha and Gaige. I was actually surprised that nobody (not entirely true, I saw one fanart of it) seemed to made that connection before as it was so obvious to me. So basically Sasha is a softer version of Gaige, in many terms. They both have a big heart for tech and especially guns. They both hosted a small radio broadcast that blew up in their region over night. Both are anarchist’s who spread the word for awareness, how fucked up the company war actually is. Both are not really good at their aim. Both call robots as their closes’t friends. Both share a deep hatred for Handsome Jack and his doings. Both fought a giant ass Vault Monster and nearly died in the process of doing so. Both got screwed up big time and now have a huge bounty on their head... So you see the list goes on, and honestly the more I write them, the more similarities I notice, both hc wise and canon wise. So there more I thought about it, and noticed similarites the more I fell in love with the Idea of them becoming close. And from there the Idea was born, that they probably met on a job ( the most likely scenario in the Borderlands universe). It had to be before BL3 of course, and to be after Tales naturally so that only put one timeline in the focus, Commander Lillith.

To be honest, I didn’t expect everything turning out so big. Like seriously I orifinally planed like 8k words or so. Now I’m dangling on the Idea of having 13 chapters and a big ass finally, a neat wrap up of everything and even a possible epilogue XD Yeah, that wasn’t what I expected either but damn do I love doing it.

Like seriously my headcanons only just gotten bigger and bigger. From a whole nebula system in the galaxy, to regions I created in my own mind for it, to even complex backstorys. Like why Sasha wears a headband, why she loves guns so much, what happened to her and Fi’s parents, why she was raised by her aunt, what does Felix have to do with it, Why Gaige has this kicks of both sudden depression and manical behavior. Why she’s so close to her dad, but her mom wasn’t even mentioned once (but teased), why she wanted to become a wedding planer, and why she is so obsessed with robots and margarita mix. I think one day, this thing will turn into a tabletop game or something XD

So estimated 20k words on my answer later and now we are going for my own created ship Scarleona. Don’t worry, as much as I like to gosh about that too, it wont take as long I prommy.

Scarleona was created in a sudden urge while thinking about what happpend to Fiona while Strays happened. And similar to Gaige and Sasha, Scarleona was born from a dynamic. Especially of those from two Ladybosses with Silvertongue and speech 100XD Fiona and Scarlett may have become my favorite Fiona ship (no offense everybody) because of how well they play off each other. Fiona is a con artist, her whole life she was used to swindle, to play it cool and by ear, go with the flow, and expect the unexpected. So here core idea is that she is manupulating people by LYING to them.

Scarlett on the other hand is similar while also the complete opposite to it. She is backstabby, plays with her charm and most importantly she is dead honest while tricking people. In fact even so honest that people don’t even realised that they got tricked even though she told it several times before. And this dynamic is so fascinating to me. You see, Fiona has almost an answer an action for everything prepared, but the idea that her winning honesty, is mind puzzling to Fiona is so perfect. @michellespenscratchz wrote me a drabble several months ago and I think that line describes it just perfect

“So, let me see if I got this straight,” Fiona tilted her head inquisitively at Captain Scarlett. “You needed these Vault Hunters’ help to find this treasure for you. So you…just asked them?”

“That’s right.” Scarlett nodded, inspecting her hook nonchalantly.

“Even though they knew you wanted it for yourself?” Fiona asked.

“Indeed,” Scarlett replied.

“And they…” Fiona blinked, “…knew you planned on fighting them for it once they had it.”

“Of course they did,” Scarlett shrugged. “I told them as much.”

“You told them?”

“Yes.”

“And they helped you anyway?”

“Precisely.” Scarlett turned her hat against the blistering wind. “I fear I don’t quite grasp what about this is so difficult to grasp, Fiona dear.”

“Huh.” Fiona cast her gaze out across the expanse of Pandoran horizon. “I guess I just gotta–I dunno–rethink my whole life right now.”

So yeah, that was basically it. I kinda diagressed and didn’t want to hurt your eyes more looking at the long ass text, but please if you have some more questions to it, pls hit me. I love to gosh about it <3

And thank you so much <3 This was hella fun

#Borderlands #Tales from the Borderlands #Strays of the Pack #Scarleona #Sasha the Kid Sister #Gaige the Mechromancer #I still need a great name for Sash and Gaige's dynamic #maybe I should go with Wolfpack for now till something better crosses my mind.#Fiona the Con Artist #Captain Scarlett #Thank you #<3

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secondpubertyscene · 3 years

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8.14.21

This year has been one of major change. In Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, there’s this quote, “God is Change. Beware: God exists to shape and be shaped,” and I think for the first time since reading it, I get what was being said. While I subscribe to the idea that there is a higher power of some kind, I also believe that we (as in, us as individuals) have great power as well. That power lies in our ability to change, to grow, to persevere. This year has been one of major change, and we really have to talk about it.

It is easy to look at this last year and think, “Well, that fucking sucked” because frankly, it did indeed fucking suck. I could write you a list of things that brought me great pain this year, unbelievable, undeniable, unrelenting pain that still lingers now. But, see, the beauty of it all is that none of that pain happens in a vacuum. Along with the pain, I’ve come through it all with more wisdom, more compassion, more empathy, more gratitude, more peace, more love, and more confidence. I’d like to share how those things all are connected, but first I would like to acknowledge something.

While I don’t know for sure if this is just an American thing, it does seem very clear that Americans aren’t fantastic at processing grief, death, and pain collectively. We often are encouraged to suck it up, to shut up about it, to not make others uncomfortable with our tears and trauma. I believe this is in large part due to the fact that American Exceptionalism doesn’t quite allow us to acknowledge when our systems have failed us or when we are suffering in the “greatest country in the world.” I don’t intend on participating in that toxic positivity or to dismiss the seriousness of the year past. I simply intend on acknowledging the nuances of my experiences, the complexity of it all. Now, let’s begin.

Without recounting every moment in large detail (in part because that would be far too much and also because I don’t need to relieve my traumas today), the events of the last year have been as follows: 1) COVID hit, 2) I had a severe emotional breakdown that resulted in a short stay at the hospital, 3) my grandma passed away, 4) I broke up with my partner of a year, 5) I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD (inattentive), 6) I got into a PhD program for sociology (fully-funded), and 7) I moved to Ohio (two weeks ago now). So much happened in what feels like a blink of an eye. When you’re a kid, you think a year lasts forever. Now, a year feels like a couple months!

Anyhow, all of these things had super intense negative impacts on my life and most of them had super intense positive impacts on my life. Let’s talk about how. I won’t say that COVID had any “positive” impact on my life, because it’s still currently making things difficult and it is still destroying lives (full worlds) every day. The emotional breakdown that I experienced shortly after COVID began, however, was the impetus for some of the greatest change I would ever make in my life. It began with new therapy, medication for the first time ever to treat my mental illnesses, and a new relationship with boundaries.

Out of this breakdown, I came to realize a few things. 1) I wasn’t really feeling most of my life up until that point. That isn’t to say that I didn’t feel at all or that I wasn’t aware of my feelings all the time, but to say that most of the time, I numbed everything out that was too hard to bear. I didn’t cry, I didn’t write, I didn’t even take the time to try to identify exactly what emotions I did feel. I just lived through it and waited until I felt better. Or, I would breakdown with rage and then feel better. Therapy, especially the group therapy I participated in for a couple weeks after leaving the hospital, changed that in huge ways for me.

Because I was able to sit in my pain, in my discomfort, I was able to actually work through some of my issues. I began to identify the areas in my life that made me genuinely unhappy and began to grant myself permission to feel disappointment. I granted myself the permission to expect more, to want more. I granted myself the permission to set boundaries without guilt or shame. I granted myself freedom. It is an ongoing journey of mistakes and back-peddling and trying again, but it is mine and I am proud of it. Had I not had that breakdown, I don’t know that I would be where I am now.

My grandma dying is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced and honestly, I haven’t dealt with it all the way yet. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her in person, I still am battling the feelings of guilt despite knowing that there likely was nothing I could have done, and my chest still feels heavy thinking about her. Even as I write this, I feel that pain. I know she is not truly gone and that she lives within me, but oh, I do miss her physical presence. The nagging, the phone calls, the hugs, the cooking, her soft hair and beautiful hands. I miss her. Because of her, though, I have been able to rehabilitate another relationship in my life. The relationship I share with my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, but for whatever reason I continually forgot that she too is a victim of hardship brought on by nothing but sheer luck. In this last year, she lost her mother, the man that she loved, multiple cousins, friends that went back to childhood, and who knows who else. She suffered a lot this year and she has suffered a lot over the course of her 61 years of life overall. For the first time, I have been able to really acknowledge her as a full being with a complex history and understand her as a person, rather than just as a parent. I’ve set new boundaries with her as a result, boundaries that have completely change the dynamic of our relationship and will continue to do so as we both learn more about each other. Gone are the days where she relies solely on me for emotional support or financial support. Gone are the days where she feels comfortable talking down to me and then expecting any kind of favors from me. She understands and respects that I am an adult, that I am independent, and that I can terminate our relationship should it get to a point where I feel unsafe again. While this might sound like a threat or even negative, it is in fact quite the contrary.

We now share the belief that I deserve better from her and that my continued relationship with her is founded upon our mutual growth. That’s a beautiful thing that arose from us being pulled together by the loss of someone we both loved more than we maybe even loved ourselves. Thankfully, though, I have come to love myself more than anyone else on this planet. This newfound self-love and respect resulted in the severing of my relationship with my partner.

I won’t pretend like my ex was this horrible person because she wasn’t. She was kind, loving, intelligent, hilarious, unique, complex, and so many other amazing things. I still love her with all of my heart and have thought about her every single day since we broke up. It is not for lack of love that our relationship came to a close. The issue was that I needed more than what she could give. I needed someone who could really sit in my shit with me without invalidating my feelings jokingly because they didn’t know what else to say. I needed someone who could make me feel safe and secure, not fearful and insecure. I needed someone who understood boundaries as openings for futures, not closed doors. I needed someone who could show up for me the way I showed up for them, even when they hurt me, even when they lied out of fear. She wasn’t able to do that. She wasn’t able to stick beside me during the worst days of my life. She wasn’t able to see me beyond our relationship. When my grandma passed and our relationship was on the rocks, she made it about us. She didn’t stop pestering me about our relationship for long enough to give me support on losing someone who meant the world to me. I couldn’t trust her after that and I also realized, I wasn’t required to.

Boundaries in that relationship weren’t healthy. I felt unseen, unprotected, and sometimes even unloved. While I am sure that she has grown even more since we have parted, the reality is that when I ended things, I knew that doing so was the most fair thing I could do for the both of us. This is because I deserve someone who sees my value inherently. I deserve someone who takes the time to understand me, to love me, to see me. Not just see me and them together, but me as an individual separate from them. More importantly, I needed to be able to ask for those things without feeling guilty or bad. As of now, I still don’t know that she sees me as me, as a singular person, and maybe she never will. That is okay. I still love her anyway. I just love me more now. As a part of that love I’ve grown for myself, I also now have sought out more help for myself. This seeking of resources led me to realizing that I was ADHD and helped me change my life.

Being diagnosed with ADHD at 21 felt absolutely ridiculous. How could I be ADHD when I can sit still most of the time and have a pretty decent amount of impulse control? The answers came from my psychiatrist, breaking down the stereotypical understanding of ADHD and allowing me to find myself within the diagnosis. Finding the right combination of medication has been difficult, but what hasn’t been hard at all is finding more resources that help me manage my symptoms. It’s because of some of these resources that I am able to sit here and write this.

A huge part of ADHD is this perfectionist mentality that makes it nearly impossible to start or complete some tasks. Every time I sat down to write in the past, I told myself that I absolutely had to write every single day, once a day, or I should just not do it. When it came to this blog especially, I had so much shame when I failed to post for a long time or had a lull, that I would either consider deleting the whole thing to start over, or just never posting again. I realize now that those were just cop outs for my brain, that I can write as little or as much as I want because it is for ME. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be anything but what I need it to be. Waiting for perfection would have me waiting forever because it’s simply not how my brain works. Accepting that is a large part of how I got into my PhD program.

I’m not going to lie. I am still trying to figure out all of the feelings I have regarding this PhD program. I am shocked that I got in, shocked that I got full-funding, shocked that I am now in Ohio, shocked that I am in my own apartment, and overall shocked that I’ve made it this far in general. While I do not believe that I am stupid or not capable of greatness, I am realizing that I’ve always seen myself pursuing something more straightforward. When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do even as those things changed. I knew what was required of me, I knew what I would ultimately do, and I took refuge in that. Doctors go to medical school. Chefs go to culinary school. Forensic anthropologists get masters degrees and do field work. It felt clear cut, straightforward, safe. This is uncharted territory. What do you do post PhD? What do you do DURING PhD years? I suppose I’ll just have to find out!

Anyhow, this year has been intense. Change is always present in our lives and sometimes it brings with gifts that we can only receive when we’re healed enough to take them. I’m hoping to keep healing, keep growing, keep loving, and keep going. I’m learning so much about myself and about the world. I’m loving myself more than I have in the past. I am incredibly proud of where I am. And I’m not done yet.

#personal blog #vent blog #black ftm #black transman #black tpoc #black mental health #personal writing blog #sociology #sociology phd program #covid #grief

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dino-nugget7 · 3 years

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A Manifesto Against The School System

As of writing this I am a second year Public High School Teacher. I won’t be able to live with myself if I spend another year at it. Literally, I feel like a bit of a monster for deciding to finish out this school year rather than quitting right now. But we do what we must to survive, my students won’t be less oppressed because I left, and if nothing else, it gives me an opportunity to strategize about what I can do to aid in revolutionizing school because authentic alternatives to public school exist but none I have found have been intersectional enough to replace public education without excluding the kids who would most benefit from escaping the main school system here in America.

Some of the reasons I did not understand how oppressive school actually is, are that my interests and hobbies happened to align very neatly with the “core” classes, and that even though I grew up very poor and moved around a lot as a kid, we eventually settled and I went to a well funded high school that had just about any elective and/or after school club that I might be interested in trying and then some. During that time, I came to see school as a place where I could explore my passions and escape my home situation. So I figured I would love to pay it forward and go be a teacher.

I recognized at least, the privileged position I came from and decided I wanted to go learn how to teach in settings as different from my high school as possible. Which is why I went and got special permission for most of my classroom placements throughout the teaching program to be at alternative schools. In Colorado at least, alternative schools are small public schools which primarily serve students identified as “at risk”, which is shorthand for “Statistically more likely to drop out than the general population for one reason or another.”

I did not know when I asked to be placed in one, but learned within days of being there that most people that even know alternative schools exist, think of them as the places where “the bad kids” go. I realized very quickly that they are actually places filled with kids who have experienced a lot of trauma in and out of school and don’t respond to that trauma the way adults want them to respond. I came to adore kids at alternative schools because they remind me of my younger siblings.

Like my oldest brother, many of them find school mind numbingly easy and boring and have much more pressing matters to devote their mental energy to.

Like my middle brother, many of them have spent so much time around teachers who do not understand neurodivergence that have been convinced of the lie that they are weird, dumb and/or lazy and because of that, trying to participate in school is like hitting their head on a brick wall.

Like all of my brothers and my sisters, they have a ton of skills that they are brilliant at, but that are not prioritized by the school system, so they never pursue them, such as construction, music, makeup and programming.

Many, if not most of them come from living situations full of abuse and neglect and/or poverty so they don’t have the mental or emotional space to worry about much beyond survival, and not only haven’t learned how to make and achieve long term goals, but have never had the luxury of a stable enough environment for that kind of planning to be worthwhile.

All that being said, something that you only realize if you actually work in a few public alternative schools, as I have done through college and my current job, is that the name is actually an oxymoron.

What started me down the path of considering and researching all the ways school is an oppressive system, was a conversation I had with a student in my first year teaching. He was learning about chemical reactions and safety and asked me the infamous question, “Why do I have to learn about this?” to which I said “Because everything is chemicals and understanding how they can interact with one another and ways they can harm you can keep you safe when you do things like clean or cook.” To which he replied, “Well no offense but I have no idea how this shit relates to cooking and please don’t tell me because its not like I’m actually going to remember it when I am cooking, and I already know how to clean safely because of work. But you’re still going to make me learn this boring shit anyways so seriously, why do we have to learn about this?”

I paused to consider what he was asking. I had interpreted, as the system trained me to, that the question he was asking was, “what value does this knowledge hold?” But what he actually meant was “Why are you making me waste my time learning about this thing that I never asked to learn about?” So I replied, as a sort of test of my new understanding, “It’s part of the physical science curriculum the Education Department thinks is important for high schoolers to learn.” He was taken aback, “Wait, you don’t decide what stuff we learn about? What’s even the point of teachers then? Why don’t they just give us a list of all their stupid stuff they think we should know so we can get on with our lives?” He had a point and I have spent a lot of time reflecting on and growing from that conversation.

Sure, there are some key differences that make alternative schools slightly more tolerable than your standard 800-4,000 kid high school. Class sizes are smaller so students get more individualized help. We get funding to help students access things such as food, clothes, hygiene products, and healthcare and know students well enough that we actually know which kids are lacking these resources. We have slightly more leeway than traditional schools to create innovative lessons. We don’t give out homework.

But public alternative schools are still oppressive in most of the ways that the big schools are. I’m sure none of this will be a surprise to most readers, but I want you to really consider how restricted kids in public school are, how restricted you probably were in school as you read through this.

School starts early in the morning and students have to constantly shift mental gears throughout the day due to a tight schedule of constantly rotating classes and a very short lunch break. Throughout the day, bells tell students when they can’t or must move around or eat. Students have to ask when they need to go to the bathroom or get water and teachers cannot go at all outside of their plan period because students are not trusted to be in the classroom without an adult even for a few minutes. They have no control over who they share space with and very little control over their ability to leave that space if it conflicts with their needs. There is a strict dress code which disproportionately targets marginalized students. Students are expected to be sociable but not given nearly enough opportunities to actually socialize. The school keeps records of everything the student has ever gotten in trouble for, every class the student has taken, every grade they have received, their “class rank,” and every intervention program the student is part of. And like every public school, alternative schools must follow state curriculum standards and by extension, grading, data collection, and required testing. On the surface it might not seem like it, but that last point is actually the most insidious one and its the one that has followed students into remote learning during the pandemic.

According to the people who decide how schools work, there are four factors of student choice: These factors are Time, Place, Pace, and Path. For example, if I am running a unit on plate tectonics, rather than giving students a worksheet and telling them to work on it as we go through a slideshow and turn it in at the end of class, I could put them in groups, give them an online choice board of three different but roughly equivalent projects relating to plate tectonics to choose from, each with different rubrics for completion and tell them they can turn it in at any time in the next two weeks. And then instead of devoting class time to direct instruction, I would give them a variety of resources to peruse and teach them how to research more and let them choose what aspects of plate tectonics to focus on and how to present their information. Now, this is certainly a few steps in the right direction away from making kids sit in rows and listen to the teacher drone on about plate tectonics while they take notes. But it misses the most important factors of choice in my eyes, the things that I would be fired for if I actually gave them the choice about: How students spend their time and what they are allowed to prioritze.

None of this is to say that expecting kids to learn is inherently fucked up or that teaching inherently makes one an oppressive person. On the contrary, authentic teaching and learning are vital to our ability to solve our problems and grow as people. If all students were given the opportunities to spend their childhoods learning things that they were actually interested in, to explore the full breadth of knowledge that humans have compiled at their leisure without timelines or milestones except the ones they set for themselves, to socialize with people of all ages, to authentically participate in society both as learners and as educators, as leaders and as team members, the world wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be a lot less soul crushing.

Now, I mentioned at the beginning of this piece that authentic alternatives do exist. To get you started on researching what’s out there, I recommend starting with Sudbury schools and the unschooling movement.

But unless these models somehow miraculously become a large and accepted enough presence to get government funding, or money ceases its hold on us all, the public school system will be the only one that most students, especially impoverished students, transient students, english language learners, and disabled students (especially those with profound disabilities) will have access to. Which is a damn shame and a problem I am committed to trying to figure out how to contribute to solving because those are the students whose lives would be most radically transformed for the better if they got the opportunities that these models provide.

#school #anti school #oppression #manifesto #youth liberation #I am aware that this severely pushes how long people are willing to read for on Tumblr #but I needed to get it out there into the void

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