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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 6

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Just remembered I had a plot so oops

Marinette wasn’t stupid. Nino had a brother only a few years older than Robin, and that brother had never acted so young or clingy at Robin’s age (and it surely wasn’t a thing about Robin, because she had yet to see him cling to anyone else). She knew that Robin was just using her to mess with Red Robin.

But she didn’t particularly mind. It was kind of funny to watch Red getting all worked up over his little brother and friend being close. She was glad she had her mask, because otherwise she definitely would have given away the act by this point.

Robin, for his part, had been upping things more and more every time he saw her. She wasn’t sure whether this was because he knew that she knew or because he was testing the limits of what he could do without her saying anything.

Red looked like he was at his wit’s end with Robin held out a hand for Marinette right before crossing a street. She took it, which was when he finally snapped:

“He’s twelve, not five!”

She pulled her face into a mock frown. “Are you saying that twelve-year-olds should get hit by cars, Red?”

Red Robin sputtered.

“Miss Ladybug, why is he so mean to me?” Robin asked with wide eyes. She could see the corner of his lips twitching in an effort not to smile.

She winked. His eyes narrowed just slightly then he widened them back to their wide-eyed sadness.

“I don’t know, sweetie. He’s just a meanie, I guess.”

Red Robin threw his hands up in either anger or defeat. It didn’t really matter which one it was, they counted it as a win.

Tim wasn’t surprised to walk into the Batcave one day and see Marinette’s face on the Batcomputer. The only thing he didn’t know was whether she was up there because they had figured out her identity or because Tim had started hanging out with her as a civilian.

He took a long sip of his coffee as he considered this, then he trudged over. Might as well find out.

“Hey guys,” he announced his presence.

He watched Duke out of the corner of his eyes. Duke was the newest of them, he could usually count on him to have more pronounced reactions.

Duke didn’t seem all that awkward. So it must have been them finding out her identity.

Tim sidled up beside them. “Sure that’s her?”

Bruce, never one for using his words when he didn’t have to, held up a small container of blood.

He hummed his understanding and intended for that to be the end of the conversation… but it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the eyes boreing into the side of his head. Tim fought to keep a straight face and unclench his jaw and ignore the stupid ‘d-d-don’t be suspicious’ song playing in his head.

And then Cass tapped him on the shoulder and he cursed quietly.

“Fine. Fine. I knew. Happy?”

Cass was not. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I saw her run into an alleyway and I followed -- obviously, it’s Gotham and alleyways are dangerous -- and she transformed right in front of me.”

She nodded and let it go.

Bruce, however, did not.

“You knew her identity and didn’t think to tell us?”

“I thought to tell you, I just didn’t,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Ah. The Disappointed Dad Stare. He had certainly not missed that.

His grin melted into an awkward smile. “It felt weird to reveal her. She clearly cares about her identity since she hasn’t told us herself yet, I figured I’d respect that as long as I could.”

“... you weren’t making progress on her identity on purpose. God, that makes so much more sense,” muttered Steph.

He shrugged. “Easy to avoid someone’s identity when you know who it is.”

Bruce was still looking at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t worry, I have contingencies,” Tim said.

His father relaxed, finally. He motioned for him to go on.

“Well, a few need confirmation. I still don’t know if her yoyo can be cut and it’s hard to tell if other people can unzip her hood or not. But if the hood is open then The Flash or Superman can easily get the earrings from her -- beyond those she’d just a normal person with some fighting skills, same contingencies as The Arrows or any of us. If not then Green Lantern can probably neutralize her.”

Bruce nodded.

The other kids looked mildly concerned.

“Wait, he has contingencies for us?” Duke said.

Bruce was back to looking dismayed. Tim showed them all where their files were (he wouldn’t hack them for them, obviously, he didn’t want to break the news of exactly how messed up Bruce’s contingencies were). He could practically see all the sweat beading itself on his forehead beneath his cowl.

(Tim hid his smile. He’d finally gotten revenge for the time he’d made him stay inside after The Chloroform Incident. And revenge was sweet.)

… it wasn’t until he started seeing his siblings on the rooftop across from Marinette’s apartment that he thought that, maybe, he should have gotten them into their files. It definitely would have distracted them from the Marinette Is Ladybug situation.

At least Cass trusted Marinette -- she would have slipped up and showed her intentions at least once by now -- and therefore wasn’t likely to come by. Cass would be the one to figure out that Tim coming up to the roof was more than him just checking on his siblings.

The first person that came by was Damian. Fair enough, he’d been around Marinette the shortest amount of time and what little friendship they had was based on his lies.

Now, the youngest sibling sat, cross-legged on the rooftop. He was sketching in his sketchbook between quick glances over at Marinette. He looked up when Tim pulled himself over the side and squinted at him.

“Drake.”

“Dami,” Tim greeted, because it always annoyed his younger brother when he used the nickname. “Having fun spying on Marinette?”

Damian was silent for a few moments before clicking his tongue. “She needs to close her blinds more often.”

“Aw, do you care about her?” Tim teased, reaching over to ruffle his brother’s hair.

He pushed his hand away. “She’s a Gothamite and is therefore under our protection.”

Tim snickered and shook his head, taking a seat beside him on the rooftop. “We can tell Duke about it once everyone else has had their chance at checking her out. He’s the only one that can get away with asking her to close it.”

Damian nodded firmly.

Tim hid the fond smile on his face by diverting his brother’s attention: “So, what’re you sketching?”

Damian’s eyes lit up.

The next person to drop by was Bruce himself. He was sitting there, in all black despite the fact that it was less useful during the day, with full spy equipment.

Tim dropped down beside him and was offered a set of headphones. The two of them stayed there in silence for a long time, listening to Marinette going about her day. She was currently cooking something and singing along to a song:

“I always feel like... somebOdy’s watching meeEe… andIhavenoprivacy~.”

Tim was choosing to ignore the song choice in favor of giggling about her inability to hit the notes. He could feel Bruce watching him out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything and neither did Tim.

Next was Steph.

Steph raised her eyebrows at Tim when she saw him.

“Come here often?” She asked in a tone that was only half-joking.

“Only recently,” he lied. “Trying to figure out if any of you trust my judgement.”

“Doubtful.”

“Yeah, Duke is my last hope.”

She snickered and shook her head. “To be fair, you’re whipped. You could have been biased.”

“But I’m not.”

“But you’re not,” she conceded, then turned her gaze back on Marinette. “She’s cute. I approve.”

“Glad to know you trust her.”

“I wasn’t talking about it like that and you know it,” Steph said with a wink.

Tim blushed and pushed her face away. “You’re the worst.”

Marinette was having a little difficulty figuring out the not-quite-a-language that the bats spoke with her. She wanted to learn it because she cared about Black Bat and, though she could use ASL, it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable with any particular language… but wow was it hard to learn a language when there wasn’t any actual language involved.

Thankfully, Signal had said he would teach her since he had learned it the most recently and therefore might have an easier time teaching it.

Now, it was just after they had finished their lessons for the day and the two of them were relaxing together between their patrols. He had his head in her lap as they both scrolled through Twitter, occasionally laughing and showing each other the dumb things that the other bats had supposedly done. Her favorite so far was the picture someone had discreetly taken of Robin while he was petting their dog.

And then Signal suddenly sat up straight, eyes so wide beneath his domino that she swore that the lenses were going to pop out.

“Uh --?”

“We need to go,” he said.

She felt his hand wrap around her wrist and now she was being dragged somewhere else --.

There was a rush of air and next thing she knew she was being held just barely off the ground.

She blinked all the dryness out of her eyes and then looked up to see that her captor was none other than Superman himself. He had grabbed both of them and taken them to where the Batcomputer was, holding her by her hood and Signal by the back of his shirt. He looked angry, but not particularly at her. She followed his gaze to where Batman was sitting in his Batchair.

“B --.”

“Batman,” said Batman sternly.

Oh, so Superman got to know his secret identity and she didn’t?

(She was ignoring the fact that Batman’s civilian name started with a B.)

“Batman, what do I have here?”

“Two children?”

“Two. Metas.”

“Technically, Ladybug isn’t a meta. Her powers were given to her by a god that lives in her earrings,” Batman informed him.

Marinette tried not to smile too much. Look at how much he had grown. He was using her excuses now.

Superman’s eyes narrowed. She’d say something about how ‘if looks could kill, Batman would be dead’... but, considering the fact that Superman could kill someone with a single look, it didn’t really work.

“And is the god allowed in Gotham?”

Batman didn’t have an excuse for that one. He just grunted a specific grunt which Marinette had learned meant: “What’s your point?”

Superman also knew this specific grunt, apparently. “My point is that the last time I was in Gotham you put kryptonite in my coffee! You said no metas, and we listened, but now you have two!”

“They’re my kids.”

Marinette blinked. “News to me.”

Signal tried to reach across Superman to punch her arm. Superman was a very wide not-man, so he came up short.

“Do you want to be kicked out of Gotham?”

“Guess I’ve always wanted family here,” she said quickly.

Superman squinted at them for a long time before, finally, dropping them.

“You’re lifting your no meta rule.”

“No --.”

“Yes. If even you’re not going to listen to it, neither should we.”

Batman didn’t seem happy. Superman didn’t seem to care. Probably because he was a good head taller and had far more superpowers than Batman did.

Superman left soon after.

Marinette knew it wasn’t the time, because Batman was back to his Batbrooding, but she couldn’t help the grin slowly spreading across her face.

“So, Dad, can I have the new Xbox for Christmas?”

Duke had visited Marinette. Tim hadn’t seen him visit, but he definitely had because Marinette had closed her blinds and they hadn’t been open in days. She was still in Gotham, though, she had gone on patrols and, as far as he could tell, she didn’t have any places in Gotham in her name. She had to still be in the apartment, so Duke must have visited as Signal and told her to close them.

And he should have been happy about this. It was far safer that way. The less people knew that there was a woman living alone in that apartment the better.

… but he couldn’t help but be concerned.

The blinds being closed was his best indication of when she was about to leave or currently not home. He didn’t like that he no longer had a way of figuring that out. How was he supposed to watch over her while she was getting groceries if he never knew when she was going?

He gives her a necklace with a tracker in it the next time he sees her as Tim.

She raised her eyebrows at the box he was holding out to her. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to propose?” She joked, but he could hear the slight wariness bleeding into her tone.

He grins easily. “It’s just to thank you for the outfit you’re making me.”

“You pay me,” she said. “That’s thanks enough for me.”

“Maybe I just feel a little bad about guilting you into making it in the first place.”

She hesitates, but he could see the shiny red gem inlaid in it winning her over. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a gold digger, she was a fashion designer and he had purposefully chosen a common gem color so she’d be more inclined to wear it more often. It worked with a lot of outfits and it came from someone she -- hopefully -- considered a friend? There was little reason to say no.

As expected, she gave in.

She turned around and he carefully clasped it behind her neck. He pressed a tiny kiss to the back of her head.

When she turned back around her face was redder than the gem. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her along to the newest attraction.

Marinette fell back on her bed with a huff.

“Tikkiiiiiiiii,” she complained.

The kwami slipped out of her purse and came up to float above her face. “Did you enjoy your date?”

“It wasn’t --!”

Tikki laughed at her dismay. Because Tikki sucked.

She dropped the pillow back beside herself and curled up in what had used to be Tim’s jacket (she wasn’t joking when she’d taken it, he was never getting it back).

“Tim better be Red Robin. I’m not doing the whole ‘two crushes at once’ thing again.”

You know, there were actually times where Tim felt bad about chipping Marinette. He wasn’t out of it enough to think that it wasn’t messed up, he knew that there was a reason he didn’t want the other bats to know.

And he knew that, if he had to keep his habits from fellow bats, his habits had to be pretty bad. Every single one of them had a tendency to watch over their loved ones from time to time, it just came with the territory of having friends that are a) vigilantes/heroes/Rogues, b) stupid enough to live in Gotham, or c) an unfortunate mix of both. And, really, when you have the entire world at your fingertips it’s hard not to cross a few lines from time to time.

But Tim couldn’t bring himself to care about that line when she didn’t seem to care about her own safety.

She left the house constantly. Tim was beginning to suspect that she’d had her blinds open so often in order to feel closer to people rather than because she liked sunning herself. This would be fine… if she wasn’t leaving as a civilian. Marinette cared about her secret identity almost as much as Bruce did, so he knew that she probably wouldn’t try too hard to escape attackers for fear of them finding out who she was through her very particular fighting style. The bats had drilled her on the best ways to deal with being held at gunpoint and everything, but not every criminal was completely predictable. Bruce’s parents were a prime example of that.

She also had a tendency to take food without checking to see if it was laced. She did it especially when Tim handed her food and, while he liked that she trusted him, he didn’t love that she was as trusting of him as she was.

Marinette had trouble detecting when people were watching her, too. He figured it was just a byproduct of having most of the stuff she did as Ladybug filmed by tv crews and random civilians… but understanding why she was like that didn’t make him any less concerned about it.

Most damning, however, was how she dealt with catcalling.

Tim never felt a need to intervene when any of his siblings got catcalled on the job. He could trust them to tell whoever it was to stop with however much politeness was correct for the situation (usually not that much).

(The only exception was Damian because, unlike everyone else, Damian was still very obviously a minor. And even then the temptation to beat them up was mostly sated by the fact that Damian knew far more nonlethal ways to hurt them than he did.)

But the few times Marinette had gotten catcalled in front of him she… had just very politely asked them not to say that? And, when they didn’t stop, she had just sat there in her discomfort until they were done?

And Tim had done nothing but watch in stunned silence the first few times. It hadn’t been on purpose, he had just… not been expecting it. She usually acted far more confident, usually had some sort of retort on her tongue, why was this any different?

He didn’t know. Both he and Steph had tried to ask but she shut down both times and they didn’t want her to be more upset than she already was so they’d stopped trying.

The bats just silently agreed to check in on her through comms when she was quiet for too long and, if she didn’t respond, head towards her last known location and start looking.

So, yeah, his paranoia wasn’t completely unfounded.

Marinette blinked at the envelope Black Bat had handed her.

She turned it over in her hands, wondering if it was some kind of test, but that wasn’t really as much of a Black Bat thing as it was a Batman or Red Robin thing. So, she figured it probably wasn’t dangerous. She still found herself examining it. It was done in an old style, with a rough and slightly yellowed paper, a red wax seal with a pointy hat emblem she didn’t recognize, and ‘Ladybug’ written across the front in gorgeous calligraphy.

“Uh…?”

Black Bat only smiled at her and made a motion to open it.

Marinette hesitantly opened the letter and pulled out more weird paper. It was splattered with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. In the same elegant script that had decorated the front, it read:

Your spirit has been summoned to my annual Halloween Party!

Dress to kill!

This was followed by a bunch of directions and timings and stuff about RSVP-ing.

Marinette looked at Black Bat, somehow even more confused than she had been before.

Thankfully, Red Robin chose that moment to run down the stairs, waving his invitation excitedly.

He stopped short when he saw Marinette already holding her invitation and huffed, sending Black Bat a halfhearted glare. “I wanted to tell her.”

Black Bat’s smile morphed into a smirk.

“Rude,” Red said. Then, he turned to Marinette. “We got invited to his Halloween Party!”

“Yeah… whose Halloween Party, exactly?”

“Scarecrow’s, of course!”

… what?

#stalker x stalker #maribat #shutterbug #timmari #timari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #marinette: all the rogues are dangerous and smart i need to expect the unexpected #scarecrow: im having a halloween party!!#marinette: ... i guess that IS unexpected...

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 4 years ago

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Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!

#mine #long post #snakes #pets #food m #uhhhhhhhhhhhh whatever else needs tagging

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softboywriting · 6 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets Series | Part Five

Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [fluff]

Word Count: 2k

|Masterlist In Bio|

It's early on a Sunday morning when Shawn invites you to go out with them. He says they go on a hike once a week, and you know they go out, but you're pretty sure their idea of a hike and yours is quite different. The four of you head out into the woods down the street from your house, they’re pretty thick and have a creek that runs through the trees. Its nice, even though it’s cold.

Once you get just inside the trees Shawn gives you his zip up jacket and they run off into the woods. You barely get a word out in protest before you’re surrounded by three huge wolves. It’s obviously the boys, but you have no idea which one is which, they all look incredibly similar.

The biggest one of the three bumps against you, pressing his side into your back. He noses under your hand and you pet his head. You would guess it's Shawn since he's the biggest of three as a human.

The one with slightly darker fur circles you, head down as he growls lowly. You watch him, eyes narrowed as he jumps away from your outstretched hand. It's Raul. The slight distrust and standoffishness is apparent.

Then there is the second biggest wolf, nearly identical to the biggest wolf, who is sitting patiently, waiting for you to approach. You think it must be Peter, since he is the only one left, but something about him isn't quite right. He nudges into your hand and you rub his ears. "I'm not sure which one is which."

Raul lets out a sharp bark and you turn to look at him.

"I am well aware which one you are, Raul." You say impatiently and he sits down, looking proud of himself. What a show off, even as a wolf.

The biggest wolf joins the other in front of you. They're so similar, right down to the fur color and markings, but one is clearly larger It must be Shawn, has to be. "Shawn?" You ask, pointing to the biggest one.

The big one lowers his head and whimpers. Obviously not.

"Peter? You're so big though. I thought for sure Shawn would be the biggest." The big one rolls over and you drop to your knees, rubbing his side. "You're such a big boy, how’d you get so big?"

Shawn nudges your back and you hold his head.

"Jealous baby." You laugh and Raul jumps on you, pushing you into Peter and Shawn. "Hey! Jerk, you're squishing me!"

Shawn tackles Raul and you lay down in the leaves watching the two wolves tangle a few feet away. Peter lays his head on your lap and you scratch it. They're just the same as wolves as they are as humans. Go figure.

____________________

Raul walks into your room late one night and looks around. You look up from your laptop. You've been slogging away on an English paper that you don't want to write. It’s the most boring thing on the planet and you would rather pull out your own hair one by one. "Can I help you?"

"I need you."

"Okay? For what?"

Raul crosses his arms. "School work."

"Like...tutoring or?"

"No. Just come with me."

You get up and set aside your laptop. Your English paper can wait until later, it's almost done anyway and you need a break. Raul leads you upstairs to his bedroom and you peek around the doorway into the forbidden territory. You’ve never dared set foot in any of the guys’ rooms without being invited. Though they always seem to invite themselves into your room. You suppose your sense of personal space and theirs is probably pretty different considering your upbringings and cultures. "Should I come in?"

"Yeah, door is open isn’t it?"

You walk in and his room smells like vanilla and sandalwood, soft but rich and heady. It’s so very much like Raul. Honestly you didn't know what to expect. A mess? Stinky boy smell? Everything painted black? What you get is none of those things. In fact, Raul's room is more like a mini art studio with a bed and a dresser in the corner. There is a huge canvas drop cloth on the floor and covering two walls. Somehow in the time you have lived with these guys, you never found out Raul painted.

"What are you doing?" You ask, walking around paint spots on the covered floor. "Why do you need me?"

"I need your picture."

"For what?"

"To paint." He says matter of factly as he grabs a camera off his bed. "I want to use the color of your eyes for something because it’s the perfect color and unless you want to stand here while I color match for who knows how long, I just want a photo."

You shake your head. "I think you're missing something here."

"What?"

"The fact that I had no idea you were an artist?" You laugh, gesturing to his work station. "How come you never said anything?"

Raul shrugs. "It wasn't important? Besides...it's not like my major or something. I just take a few classes to help with my art skills for architecture."

“You’re majoring as an architect?”

“Yeah.” He lifts his camera and then lowers it, changing some sort of setting on it you assume.

You walk around and look at the canvases, some half finished, propped against the wall. “Art could be your major.”

“No.”

"Why not? These are good." You grab a canvas with pink roses on it, they’re very detailed and vibrant, almost like looking at a photograph. "I love this."

"Take it."

"But...you don't want it?"

Raul shrugs again. "It's just stupid flowers. Can I take your photo now?"

You tuck the painting up under your arm. "Fine. But only if you show me the finished product you need my eye color for."

"Okay, but only if you don't keep telling me how good my shit is."

"Fine."

Raul lifts the camera and moves in close for a good picture. He changes angles a few times and then pulls back. He looks at the screen and smiles a little bit. "Wow." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Thanks, you can go now I guess."

You roll your eyes. "Good talk," you say sarcastically and leave his room with your new painting in hand. You don't understand Raul. One minute he's a sweetheart, taking you to lunch, holding hands, and the next he acts tough and indifferent. He's hard to read, and even harder to unpack.

_____________________

Something has been bothering you since the night of Shawn’s hockey game. It’s not anything anyone has done per say but more of something that they haven’t done. Since you moved in, now almost three months ago, you’ve never seen any of the guys with a significant other. To your knowledge all three boys are in to girls, but you can’t be sure since you’ve never actually asked. Either way, you’ve never heard them talk about going on a date or talk about being with anyone. What really got you thinking about it was how Shawn turned down the three girls after his game in favor of going home for dinner. Why not go to a party, meet someone, get some action? It’s not a big deal, and it’s really none of your business, but you can’t help but think about it.

Peter stands at the stove, stirring some rice in a pot for dinner. It’s his turn to make it and he’s making baked chicken with rice and broccoli. Sounds pretty plain, but Peter makes it taste really good.

“Can I ask you something?” You say, taking a seat at the dining table at the edge of the kitchen.

“Sure?”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend, or boyfriend, whatever.”

Peter lets out a little laugh. “No lead up, just bam, why are you single? Damn.” He turns off the stove and moves the pot of rice to a cool burner. “If you must know, I’m single because it’s hard for me to connect with someone.”

“But you’re so sweet and smart.”

“Thank you, but it’s not just that.” He takes a seat opposite you and leans his head on his chin. “We wolves tend to try to find people who are committed. We don’t like to play games when it comes to relationships. I also have to find someone who understands and accepts me as a werewolf, and that’s not always as easy as it may seem.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so...”

“You like me though right? We connect?”

Peter flushes, cheeks turning scarlet as he clears his throat. “Of course I like you. As a pack member and my friend. It’s not like...I don’t...not like...y’know. Unless you want that then-”

“Peter.” You start and he freezes, eyes panicked behind his glasses. “I meant as a friend and a pack mate.”

“Y-yes. I like you.”

“Okay, good.” You smile, warmth on your own cheeks. “You should probably check the chicken. The timer has been going off for a minute or so.”

“Shit!” Peter jumps up and you laugh as he scrambles to the oven with a pair of mitts over his hands. He saves the chicken and as soon as its out of the oven, Shawn and Raul appear to get dinner. You laugh to yourself as you watch the three guys argue over whether or not they can start dishing up food. It’s always something in this house.

_____________________

Shawn knocks on your open bedroom door and you look up from your phone. It’s after nine in the evening and you’re about to go to bed. It’s not like Shawn to be up much later than this either. He gets so exhausted from going to class and then hockey practice nearly every day, he just passes out when he gets home.

“What's up?” you ask, muting the tv.

“My tv is broken. Well, my remote is broken. I sort of stepped on it this morning in a hurry to leave.”

“Okay?”

Shawn looks over to your muted TV and then back to you. “Could I...watch my show in here?”

“Why not ask Raul or Peter? Or did they already turn you away?”

“Raul told me to shove it and Peter’s door is locked.” He sighs and hangs his head. “I can just catch it next week. I’ll pick up a remote tomorrow.”

“No, come in.” You pull back the corner of your bedspread and he wastes no time crawling into the bed next to you. You decide to take pity on him. You know what it’s like to miss your favorite show for a week and then not know what anyone is talking about on your social media. “What channel?”

“Thirty six. It’s grey’s anatomy. “

“Ah, gotcha.” You change the channel and Shawn scoots closer, propped against your bed head. “If I fall asleep don’t worry about waking me up okay?

“Mmmhmm.” Shawn grabs the remote and turns up the volume as the opening credits for the show starts to play. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and you owe me.”

He leans over and kisses your temple. “You have my undying love and gratitude.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that get me? What’s the exchange rate on undying love and gratitude?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That seems like a loaded offer for something as simple as letting you watch a TV show.”

Shawn looks away from the tv and you raise your eyebrows. He lowers his voice, talking soft and sincerely. “I’d give you anything. You should know that.”

“Y-yeah. I’ll have to raincheck you on that.” You feel your stomach clench. That was way more loaded then the offer was. The way he’s looking at you...it’s insane. No. You cannot be feeling some kind of way for Shawn. You live together. Its...no. But what if? You bite your lip thinking about a scenario where you do become more than friends with Shawn. You’d let him do just about anything, and he- no. stop. You have to stop. No more.

———–

End Part Five

———-

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. Next part coming soon! - A

Custom header per part made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes onesho #shawn mendes werewolf au #the mendes triplets #mendes triplets #peter mendes #raul mendes #shawn mendes fics #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes au

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theepiccreatorofmagic-blog-blog · 5 years ago

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How They Get You

I always feel this sort of pang in my chest whenever I’m told, “wow! you’re so friendly!” or “man, you have so many friends!” or “you’re really outgoing.”

Because yeah, I am now. But that is really only because I was Trained to be that way.

Back at my old church there is this class that every Sunday school kid, college student, leader, employee, and ministry worker takes. It’s called something like, “Fundamentals of Soulwinning”

There, you learn how to approach people.

You see, my cult understood that you would get NOWHERE screaming at someone that they would go to hell. No. You have to be friendly, non-aggressive, and open to talking.

The only reason I can talk to any stranger about any topic is because I was taught how.

If you are knocking on their door, you have to first explain that you aren’t selling anything. Maybe chuckle a bit, step back, put your hands up.

You then tell them, “I’m just in the neighborhood, inviting people to (an event that doesn’t seem too religious) and I would like to give you one.

This even can really be anything. My cult does this “Friend Day” thing where they give out these bags of cookies with an invitation on it. This can also be something like “Love Works.” where you love bomb someone and then give them a tract (a card that is pretty to look at and has information about the church and stuff. Also the gospel)

Then, if they seem open you can keep going. They may even open their door all the way at this point.

You read that person’s body language to see if they are open to talking. Then you open with something like, “oh, do your (brightly colored) shoes make you run faster?” or “wow, I thought I was the only one who-”

I remember taking a test about how you can always find something to talk to them about, something to break the ice an earn a sort of comradery.

Profession (many people are open about where they work)

Property (I always loved praising people’s outfit, makeup, flowers, wallet)

And something else beginning with a P (like personal)

You talk about the lawn ornaments, the car they have, the kids toys. You never bring up god in the beginning.

Then, as you talk, you say, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” And (I have practiced this multiple times, it works unfortunately) 95% percent of the time they will tell you their name.

I remember my teacher then telling me that you use that name over and over again. Because they are more willing to participate in the conversation if you make them feel like they are the center of attention.

Then, as the conversation goes on (and you feel “lead of the lord”) you gently steer the conversation towards things like, “oh! well hey, do you go to a church right now?” and then go from there.

If the person you are witnessing to opens up about a certain trauma then you are supposed to share your own experiences, and how the lord worked through you in that time.

It... it’s kinda scary because I’ve recently realized that not even salesmen use these tactics. Because they fucking work. My cult has over 5,000 people in the English speaking ministry, almost 2,000 for Spanish speaking, and then you have Korean, ASL, the bus ministry, the Sunday schools, the satellite churches that have 300 in average attendance, and the Livestream that is streamed all over the world.

I’m not exaggerating.

So.

With that being said, do not be afraid to say, “I’m not interested.” And close the door in their face. (From experience, I can safely say that they don’t take it personally or hate you for it. It happens all the time.) It’s okay to give the tract back. It’s okay to tell your friend “I will never be interested in religion so please do not invite me again.”

I deeply regret witnessing to people. Especially at work. Especially to friends outside of my circle. I regret politely pointing out the fallacies in their own religions. I regret lying to people and telling them that jesus helped me through rough times.

Christianity especially is horrible because every time I thought “I shouldn’t be doing this.” it could be brushed aside with “well that’s what Satan wants you to think. Satan wants your friend to suffer and burn in hell for all eternity. You’re saving your friend/coworker/relative from that and giving them a change to live a happy life.” and I’d go on witnessing with even greater ferocity.

But, now I have some hope for my future. I’m not in that life anymore.

I can be happy for people when they open up to me about their religious success.

I can comfort people as an empathetic human when they share the rough times.

I can offer actual help instead of just saying “I’ll pray for you.”

I can be happy for someone when they tell me about a career advancement that isn’t religious.

I can go to sleep not caring if I won enough souls. Or worrying about my friends dying and going to hell because I didn’t witness to them.

I can make friends, and not feel fake or manipulative. I want to be their friend so that we can share things. Not because I want them to become a follower.

I can go about my day not having to pretend that I’m okay because “sinners should see something different in you.”

I can be comfortable around people who talk about ‘sinful’ stuff. Yeah, you’re single and have a kid. Go you. You got this. You’re fighting your smoking habit. Hell yeah, I’m there for ya. You like drinking beer? You want to hang out a bar maybe? I’m down. You want me to go with you to a rock concert? Oh my god yes!

Leaving religion was the hardest, but best decision of my life. The freedom is worth it. Please trust me on this. Give it a shot. Since I left, my anxiety is gone, my depression has slowly melted off, bit by bit. I have so much less stress.

I don’t know. I’ve come so far. Thank you for reading. I feel so much better now that this is out there.

#exchristian #ex christian #long post #recoveringfromreligion #religious trauma #fuckdepression #recovering #recovery #battlingdepression #battlinganxiety #positivity #life is worth living

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connorandersons-blog · 5 years ago

Text

To the Library

Rating: Explicit Word count: 3,576 Warnings: explicit content Ship: Markus/Connor AU: Human Chapter 2/5

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

Markus goes to the library a week later. He hadn't finished with his book, but Carl was. He had eagerly taken the book from Carl's hands, ignoring Carl's pointed looks.

When he got there he expected Connor to be behind the desk, but he wasn't there. Markus felt his heart sink as he placed the book in the return pile.

He might as well look around. Maybe he would find something intriguing to read. He took his time walking around, pulling out a few books to read their summaries before putting them back.

He went to walk around the corner and jumped when he saw Connor sitting in a chair, reading a book. His feet were pulled up, and he had black full-rimmed glasses on. His curly hair fell into his face and wore a soft-looking cable knit black turtleneck.

He looks simultaneously adorable and sexy as fuck like that. Oh fuck. He's totally fucked. He really hopes Connor is at least a little gay, and single, otherwise he knows he's going to hurt his heart. Apparently, he made some type of noise because Connor glances up from his book.

"Markus! Did you need any help?" He asks, putting his legs back onto the ground. He had texted Connor but he wasn't sure what was appropriate to send, so he always kept it short.

Connor grabbed a bookmark and put it in the book, which wow, was Les Misérables and it looked like it was the actual version in French.

"You're… you were actually reading that?" He asks, walking over. Connor glances at the book, flipping it over in his hands.

"Oh, yeah. I hadn't gotten the time before, but yeah. Amanda, she made sure we were able to learn any language we want. I learned French, German, Spanish, Latin, and Russian. Oh! Also ASL." Holy fuck. He was sure his jaw was on the ground.

This man was smart enough to be literally anything he wanted, and he was here working at a library, reading a book most people didn't even attempt to read.

"That… wow. That's really impressive, Connor." Markus said, sitting down in a chair close to him.

He ducks his head again, and Markus is getting to the point where he wants to keep making him have that reaction. "Amanda taught us early so it was easy, nothing truly impressive."

Markus shakes his head. How could he not see how impressive that was? It didn't matter when he learned, he retained the information even after all these years. "Trust me, it's impressive."

"I… thank you, Markus." He says, looking at him through his lashes. Wow, his eyes were so stunning and now he really wanted to see him on his-nope! Nope, he is not thinking about that. Not in a library.

"Of course, I was wondering, do you have any books you'd recommend reading?" Connor quickly stood up and pulled Markus up too by his hand. He probably didn't even realize he was still holding his (ugh, probably sweaty) hand as he dragged him through the library. Well, dragged isn't the right word as he was doing his best to keep up, but gladly following along.

"Ok, so the first is technically not for adults, but the humor is amazing and generally flies right over kids." He says, pulling down a book- Artemis Fowl- still not letting Markus go. Apparently, he's getting more than one book as Connor leads him around, explaining some as he pulls them out.

Markus laughs as he's pulled and watches as the stack of books grow taller. It isn't actually that many books, but it's incredible how enthusiastic he is.

Once Connor seems to be done he leads them back to where he left his own book. He lets go of Markus to set the stack of books on a table, then picks up his own book. He sits down again, pulling his legs under him. "I know that's a lot, and you don't have to check them all out."

There are seven books in all and Markus is most definitely going to at least attempt to read all of them, even if it meant renewing them.

"No, this is wonderful; I look forward to reading all of them." He glances through all of them before picking up the shortest one. "I hope you don't mind if I read with you."

"No! Of course, feel free. The Artemis Fowl series has always been a favorite of mine." Connor said, flipping open his book. "Oh, I never asked, do you speak any languages other than English?"

Markus flips to the first page of the book, taking in the worn feeling of it. "Not really. I know a few things in French and a few in Latin, but that's just what I learned from Carl."

Connor smiled and nodded. "Du siehst umwerfend aus." Connor said, before quickly looking down at his book.

Oh, he really wanted to know what that meant. "I… that was German, right? What does it mean?"

"Oh, um it means to enjoy your book." Connor's face flushed and he puts his nose back into a book. He has a feeling that's not what he actually said, but he doesn't know any German to dispute it.

"Thank you, I'm sure I will." He starts reading the first page. He has to admit, it's incredibly easy to follow. The humor is dry and makes him crackle. The first time he does it, he glances up and sees Connor staring at him. They both quickly look back to their books.

He gets lost in the book and reads almost half of it before his phone rings. He jumps practically out of his skin. He fumbles for a bit before pulling his phone out. He sighs when he sees it's a message from Carl. He isn't upset that Carl messaged him, but he is that he'll have to leave.

"Ah, I need to get home, well to Carl's." He definitely considered Carl's place home more than anywhere else had been. They both stand and Markus grabs his stack of books.

"I'm not technically working, but I can still check you out," Connor says, taking the books when they get to the desk. He scrunches up his face as he types something into the computer then scans the books. "I gave you the six weeks employees get but don't tell," he fake whispers.

Markus snorts and puts a finger up to his lips. "Your secret is safe with me." He took the books and waved at Connor before leaving.

______________________________________________________________

"Markus!" Connor panted, arching his back. Markus reached out and covered Connor's mouth with his hand.

"Shh, you gotta be quiet baby, or we'll be caught." He whispered but didn't let up at all. He set a steady, but quick pace with his hips, matching the same with his hand stroking Connor's length.

They were in the back part of the library, where they hopefully wouldn't get caught. Connor was wearing the same thing from when he gave him all those books, but his glasses were skewed and his hair was completely tousled. He looked fucking amazing like this.

Connor whined into his hand, pushing back into him. He wanted to hear him so badly, but maybe once they were alone.

The sound of skin hitting skin was obscene in such a quiet place. He could smell the old books, but he couldn't focus on anything but Connor.

He leaned forward and kissed the back of Connor's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He wanted to absolutely wreck him; he wanted him to not be able to walk straight for a week.

"Connor, you're so beautiful. So beautiful, and all for me." He mumbled. Connor's eyes watered from so much stimulation. He could feel how close they both were. So, so fucking close.

Markus jerked awake, sitting up. His eyes were wide as he looked around his dark room, panting. He groaned and flopped back onto his bed. This wasn't the first time he had that particular dream, but each time ended the same.

He reached down and didn't bother opening his eyes as he stroked himself. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until he came so it was better to get it over with.

He imagined Connor on his knees, looking up at him with those stunning brown eyes. "Fuck," he groaned, spilling into his hand.

Markus was supposed to go to the library today to bring back Carl's book, but this would make it so much harder (no pun intended). He didn't know how he could face Connor after thinking about him like that.

He rolls over and digs through his drawers finding his wipes. He cleans himself up, and checks his phone, squinting when the brightness is too high.

To Connor:

I'll be there tomorrow

[Read, 9:19 pm]

To Markus:

I can't wait! ☺️

[Read, 9:20 pm]

Ugh, how could he be so cute? Even his typing was cute! It was completely unfair. What had he done to deserve this kind of torture?

He had a feeling he was at least somewhat gay, especially since Carl seemed to be trying to get them together. He probably knew more about Connor than Markus did, though he wouldn't tell him.

He checked the time and groaned again, dropping his phone on his chest. It was way too early to get up, but he doubted he'd be able to sleep again. He should at least try, though.

Before he knows it his alarm is going off and he honestly feels like crying. He hadn't gotten any more sleep, and he couldn't stop thinking about Connor.

He slowly sat up and got ready for the day. He lived with Carl so it wasn't like he had to drive to work, so he got more time in bed than he would have otherwise.

He gave Carl his medicine and breakfast before the man waved him off. Markus huffed and grabbed the book before taking the bus to the library.

It was a much warmer day than it had been in a while, and Markus basked in the sunlight. He loved raining days but there was something so comforting about the sun coming out after days of rain. It was like he could feel how alive the world was, and it just made him livelier.

He walks in and before he can even say hello Connor is up and beside him. He's wearing a sweater vest again with a white button-up, but the sleeves are rolled up, and Markus is sure he's dying. He's not wearing his glasses but his hair is mostly pushed back out of his face, except for a few curls that seemed to do whatever they want.

"Markus! How are you?" He asks, smiling widely. Markus leans over and drops the book in the return bin, but feels his heart stop when doing so brings him close to Connor. His mind flashes to the dream and he quickly leans back.

"Not too bad, didn't get much sleep last night, you?" They start their walk around the library. At some point, he'd get the next book Carl wanted, but for now, he just enjoyed Connor's company.

Connor gave a sympathetic hum, "neither did I. Today has been lovely, though. The weather is much better than before. I'm planning on taking Sumo for a walk later."

"Sumo?"

Connor's eyes light up and he bounces more as he walks. Overall he looks even more adorable. "He's Hank's dog. When I was a detective Hank was my partner, and he's basically a father to me now. Amanda never let us have pets, and I really like dogs so I go over to Hank's a lot." Ah, that did sound like Stern. She could be an exceedingly uptight woman from what he's heard.

"Sumo is Saint Bernard! He's basically a giant teddy bear, though he likes to lay completely on me." Connor says, sighing happily.

Markus chuckled and shook his head, imagining a big dog lying on Connor while he was splayed out on the ground. "He sounds adorable." So do you, he wanted to add but bit his tongue.

Connor quickly nods. "He is! I like dogs. Well, all animals honestly. I've got a fish at home, Trichogaster Laliu, or most commonly known, a Dwarf Gourami." Leave it to Connor to know the scientific name for it.

"Carl has parakeets, but I never got to have pets growing up." Well, that wasn't completely true, he did but it never lasted long.

"Oh? Were your parents strict too?" Connor asks, swaying his arms and accidentally brushing against Markus's.

Markus is so tempted to just take his hand but decides against it. He was a very tactile person, so holding hands between friends weren't uncommon for him. However, he didn't know if Connor was open to that.

"Ah, not always? I… I grew up in the foster system. Eleven foster families in all, but I aged out." He remembered the day and how much it hurt, knowing he wasn't wanted. "Carl, he found me and took me in. He paid for my college and now I take care of him." He smiled. He honestly owed his life to Carl.

Connor's eyes go wide. "Oh, I'm sorry. Caelum and I got adopted pretty quickly, but I remember how hard it had been." He wondered if they ever would have met if Connor hadn't been adopted.

Markus shrugs. Sure it had been hard but now he has the life he always dreamed about. He had someone who cared about where he was, or if he ate enough. He had his friends, and now he had a very huge crush on a very adorable man.

"It's fine, I'm happy now. Are you?" He honestly didn't mean to ask something so deep, but it just slipped out.

Connor hummed and thought for a moment. "I think I am. I loved being a detective, but I also love this," he motions around to the library. "Sometimes if Hank can't figure a case out he'll ask me. There's always room for improvement, but that's just life."

He couldn't agree more. To him, the purpose of life was to grow. If you became stagnant then the ability to become happy disappeared.

"I hope this isn't offensive… but from what I've heard about Stern, she doesn't seem the type to think being a librarian is an actual job." She was a strict woman but he knew she always just wanted the best for those she cared about.

Connor chuckles. "Yeah, but I still consult for the dpd and even sometimes the FBI if they need me. At first, she thought this wasn't acceptable at all, but I guess she saw how at peace I am. I get the best of both worlds doing this."

Holy fuck. He worked with the FBI and said it like it was nothing. "How old are you?" Wow, that came out wrong. Thankfully Connor just laughed.

"I'm twenty-five, but technically I'm six." Apparently, Markus's confusion shows on his face. "Leap-year baby."

"Leap-year baby and a twin, what are the odds of that?" He really didn't think Connor would have an answer.

"There's a one in 1,461 chance of having a leap day birthday. The odds of twins are one in 67 times the odds of being born on February 29, which comes out to one in 97,887." His jaw was definitely on the ground.

"Though, because we are identical the odds go up to one in 365,250. So, I am exceedingly rare in that case." Connor shrugged.

"That and you're a genius." Markus points out. Connor blushed and ducks his head. He grins and bumps their shoulders together. Connor's eyes widen and he actually brings a hand up to cover his face. Hm, interesting but also adorable.

"Oh, I was wondering if you have Odes by John Keats. Carl wants to read it." Connor sighs, he's probably glad for the subject change.

He stood for a moment and glances around before nodding to himself. "If we do, it'll be this way." Connor reaches out and gently touches Markus's arm, but he doesn't hold onto him like before. He really wished he would.

Connor finds the area and looks around. Oh goodness, they are definitely in the back of the library and it's almost the exact same as his dream.

Connor crouches down, and runs his fingers against the books, squinting at them a bit. He obviously still works out and Markus would very much like to feel those thighs. They practically stretch his pants to their limit and it's driving him insane.

Then, of course, Connor makes it worse. He doesn't know why, but Connor turns to him without standing and looks up at him, smiling softly. He really, really needed him to stand back up soon, or he was going to have a very obvious problem.

Thankfully Connor doesn't stare at him for long (even though it feels like an eternity). He finds the book and stands up in one fluid motion. That did make him wonder, how had he been injured badly enough to have to retire so early? He had stated that he loved being a detective, so it wasn't for want to stop, and he just took the chance.

This time he doesn't hand Markus the book, he just holds onto it. "Do you want to get coffee?" Connor blurts out. "I-I mean, they have a small coffee shop upstairs. We can get some if you want. Or, if you have the time. Sorry." Connor cringed at himself, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"Ah, I'd love to, but I should be getting back to Carl. I'll treat you to one another time. Or, well… there's this new Cafe opening, we could go there if you'd like." He's ready to apologize too but Connor quickly glances up and nods.

His grin is so bright it's blinding, but Markus can't seem to look away. "I'd love to! I heard about that but didn't have a reason to go."

"How about," he paused, mentally going over his schedule, "Thursday at two? We can do it earlier if you want."

By then they were at the desk again and Connor scanned the book. "Two works, it's a date!" He smiled handing him the book and card back.

Markus fumbled but tried to play it off with a chuckle. He probably didn't mean it like that, but fuck he hoped he did.

He is almost jogging away, mostly to stop himself from saying something stupid. He considers just walking home but decides to take the bus. He didn't need to have to take another shower today.

He's definitely more calmed down by the time he gets home, but his mind was still racing. Connor definitely hadn't meant it like that. No, he couldn't. It was just coffee. Just two guys, who are friends, getting coffee. Totally nothing else. Nope, nada.

He feeds the parakeets and looks around for Carl. He notices the lights are on in the studio, so he goes there. It wasn't odd for either one of them to spend most of the day there.

Carl is working on the huge painting that he'd been painting for over three weeks now. Even now, it was incredibly striking, unfinished. Carl looked down at him and then back to the painting. Markus stands back, taking it all in. He was always stunned at Carl's work, even when he couldn't quite get it.

The moment Carl could he had given Markus a paintbrush. At first, Markus had just painted the world around him as it was. Carl had taught him to paint what he saw, yes, but what he felt about it.

He definitely wasn't the best, even after all this time, but he still enjoyed painting, especially with Carl. Though, it seemed Carl was already one step ahead of him.

An easel was set up, along with a blank canvas for him. He knew what he wanted to paint before even picking up his pencil to sketch it out.

He loved the sound of the pencil against the canvas, though he often had to take a step back, look it over and fix the problems. Some people could just paint, but Markus preferred to be able to actually see it first before he put any paint on the canvas.

He hadn't even realized Carl had stopped painting until he heard him from behind. "Oh my god."

Markus let his hand drop as he looked at the sketch. It was definitely his best work so far and he hadn't even started painting yet.

It wasn't even that exquisite, definitely not as good as Carl's, but even still. It had so much emotion in it that you could overlook any mistakes.

"I… I probably should have asked him if I could paint him first." Markus mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

Carl quickly shakes his head, "no, this is amazing." Carl rolls closer eyes wide. Markus can't help but agree. Drawing Connor was the easiest thing he'd ever drawn, and he didn't know why. Well… that wasn't completely true but he wasn't going to think about it.

He was definitely not thinking about that as he picked up a paintbrush, and he wasn't thinking about it as he started to paint.

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redstarwriting · 6 years ago

Text

Always

Clint Barton x Reader

Request: “Do you think you could write a Clint x Reader where they have a private relationship away from everything Clint does at SHEILD and the reader loves singing so they always go to open mics together. But one evening when she had a show Clint can't be there because he's on a mission. On the way home the reader gets kidnapped by HYDRA to try to get a ransom from SHEILD and they don't get it so they take what the reader loves most about herself: her voice. Anyway she gets rescued and Clint helps her learn ASL and always takes out his hearing aids because he wants her to understand that while he loved her voice he is more happy that she's safe and with him?”

Word Count: 3,083

Genre: Angst | Some Fluff

Warnings: Kidnapping, Loss of ability to speak, Emotional distress

A/N: Wow! My longest one to date! I hope I did this request justice, because it’s a very cool concept I think. I hope you all enjoy this one!

───────────────────────────────────

“I can’t believe tonight is the start of my solo career,” you joke to yourself, checking your outfit in the mirror. You were about to go to the bar you and Clint frequented as it’s open mic night. Unknown to the rest of the Avengers, except Nat, Clint had a girlfriend. In fact, the two of you literally met at an open mic night, so it was crazy for you to be going without him now. Not necessarily unknown to the rest of the Avengers, Clint has an amazing voice. However, what they don’t know about his angelic voice, is that he sings with his girlfriend at open mic nights every week. When he disappears for the night, they just assume he’s somewhere in the vents, all snuggled and probably eavesdropping. Everyone gets unusually quiet on these nights. He is in fact at the bar you two frequent, O’Caroll’s, not trying to get gossip on all the Avengers. That’s what he does when everyone thinks he’s getting lunch or taking a nap. He tells you all of the gossip too, so you know more about the Avengers than some of the other Avengers know about each other. If you ever met them, you’d really have to be careful with what you’d say. You could ruin lives.

Sadly though, this Saturday night you’re going to the bar alone. Clint is out on a mission, trying to get information from HYDRA with the rest of the team. He keeps telling you how worried he is that they’re planning something big. You always have to assure him that he and the rest of his team will put a stop to it and that everything would be okay. In a way, you were the only thing that could make him feel like everything would end up okay. You love having that power, because although the man is happy-go-lucky literally all the time, he has secrets and doubts in his mind. You put him at ease, and he loves it. You’re one of the main reasons he was able to go into this mission with a clear head. The Avengers finally found where HYDRA was hiding, and they decided to go after them. Although it left you alone, you were proud of him. He was busy saving the world, one open mic night wouldn’t hurt much.

Since O’Caroll’s was one block from your apartment, you always walk there as opposed to getting a ride. Usually, you have your boyfriend with you and that’s all the protection you need, but this time you were alone. A good thing for you is that on your way there, a good amount of people were still walking around the streets since it was nine in the evening. Although you felt a tiny bit sketched out, you still didn’t feel like certain doom was awaiting you because you were walking alone. When you arrive at O’Caroll’s, you’re greeted by the bartender, Cait. “Clint’s not with you?” she asks, surprise literally written all over her face. “No, not tonight. He has some work stuff to deal with,” you give her a look, indicating that it was Secret Agent Barton work. Cait was a close friend to you two, so she knew about Clint’s job as Hawkeye, one of Earth’s mightiest defenders. She nods, understanding immediately before grinning at you and motioning towards the stage. “Well, I’m glad you could still come. Can’t wait to hear your voice tonight.” “Thanks, Cait. Now, give me my usual, please.”

The rest of the night was a blast. You mingled with all the other regulars and sang quite a few times. Nearly every time you would step off the stage to let someone else go, you were met with protests. All in all, your first solo performance night went very well. You couldn’t wait to tell Clint all about it when he got home from the mission. You knew he’d want to hear every detail, so you went easy on the alcohol this time. You also knew you’d be walking home alone tonight, as no one else who lived in your apartment complex came to open mic night. By two in the morning, you decided it was time to head home. You said goodbye to Cait and all of your adoring fans as you walked out into the breezy New York night. It seemed like a very calm night, and you were very at ease. Your feeling of ease quickly disappeared when you realized just how quiet and calm it was. It was unusual, some of the bars around here forced their patrons out at two in the morning, so why didn’t you see anyone coming out of any? You began walking faster, trying to get to your apartment building as soon as possible. You were about to get to your stoop, when you heard a hushed whisper from the dark alleyway you were right in front of say, “That’s her, get her!”

Before you could even start running, you felt someone grab your arms while another person shoved a rag in your face. You struggled to get out of the man’s grip and fought desperately to stay awake, but you knew the rag was doused in chloroform. And due to this, you began losing consciousness. The last thing you noticed was being shoved in a van and seeing a badge on one of your abductor’s clothes. A skull with six tentacles where the mouth should be. The last thought that went through your head was Clint, then everything went black.

While this was happening to you, the Avengers were on their way back from their mission. The information they got from the HYDRA agents at the base they just destroyed was very helpful to them. In fact, it would help them absolutely win against HYDRA completely. There was a map on the wall of the main control room in the base, and although there were no marks on it to the naked eye, there were marks on it you could only see under a black light. It was quite a textbook thing to do really. Everyone was impressed with how simple it was. Well, actually maybe not impressed. Maybe more suspicious, concerned, paranoid. Clint especially as he hadn’t heard from you for about an hour. He kept telling himself you were just performing, busy singing and that’s why you couldn’t respond. Or maybe you decided to turn in for the night early. He made excuse after excuse as to why you weren’t responding, but no matter what he told himself, he had a bad feeling. “Barton, what’s wrong?” He looks up to see Nat standing in front of him, her hushed tone heard only by him. He sighs, standing to become closer to her level. “I haven’t heard from (Y/N) since 1:30. I’m worried, Nat. I have a bad feeling about this,” he informs her, quietly and urgently. She frowns, you two are friends after all. “Well, isn’t she at home? Maybe she just fell asleep.”

“Maybe, but she could still be out. We go to a specific bar every Saturday, and she told me that even though I wouldn’t be there with her tonight, she was still going.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you two talking so hushed about?” Thor asks, oblivious to the tension and seriousness of the conversation. The rest of the team looks at them, and Clint thinks on his feet. “Nat was just telling me about this new SHIELD agent she thinks I’d get along with. Nothing else,” he lies effortlessly, and Nat plays along. “Oh, yeah? Who?” Tony asks, turning the pilot’s seat around, becoming involved in the conversation. Nat rolls her eyes, “If you think I’m going to tell you, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m trying to get her a husband, not a hook-up.” Everyone chuckles at the remark, and Tony shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

At this point, Clint’s phone buzzes. He quickly looks at it, hoping to see your name, however he sees a message from Fury. “Call Me.”

“I gotta take this, guys,” Clint says, walking to a corner of the jet where he can be a bit more private. Emphasis on a bit. He calls immediately, and Fury picks up on the other end. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this nicely, so I’ll just be blunt about it. (Y/N)’s been kidnapped. By HYDRA. And to get her back, they’re requesting we give them the Tesseract. I know you know we can’t do that, but we’re working on finding out just where exactly they’re holding her. I’m sorry for the bad news, Barton.”

The call ends, and Clint freezes. Horror and anger begin flowing through his veins, and he rigidly brings his phone from his ear. “Clint? What’s wrong?” Nat immediately notices the change in his demeanor, as do the rest of the Avengers. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even turn around. “Barton?” Steve walks over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Clint’s eyes dart to Cap’s hand, before looking at him in the face. He doesn’t say anything to him, but rather turns to Nat. “HYDRA has her.” Nat’s expression hardens, and Tony’s eyebrows furrow. “Has who?” Clint doesn’t say anything, rather he sits down, putting his head in his hands. “(Y/N),” Nat responds for him. “Not to be rude, but that doesn’t exactly clear up anything for us,” Bruce says, and Nat sighs. “It’s his girlfriend.”

From that moments forward, the rest of the team began searching to find you. Clint didn’t get any sleep, and he was the most distressed any of them had ever seen him, even Nat. It took two days to locate you, and the very moment your location was found, Clint was already on the quinjet, ready to go wherever you were. He was well aware of the risks of storming the place to find you, but quite frankly, he just didn’t care. He would do whatever it took to get you home safe, and it became very obvious to all of the HYDRA agents and the rest of the Avengers that this was the case very quickly. Arriving at the base was a wild ride, mainly due to the fact that as soon as the quinjet was over the base, Clint immediately skydived out of it. He showed absolutely no mercy to anyone who got in his way, and he showcased some of his swordsmanship abilities. Getting inside the base was easy with Clint going at the rate he was going. The Avengers fought their way to you, but when they found you, it didn’t look good.

Your arms and legs were chained to a chair, and you were looking down. You didn’t even look up when the door to the room you were located in was kicked in. Within the time it took for them to find you, you had been tortured and beaten almost every second of it. You figured the noise was just another method of mental torture they were putting you through, making you think you were being saved, only to rip your hopes apart by beating you again. You were sure you had some broken bones, and you couldn’t even imagine how many cuts and bruises were on your body at this point. You would have rather endured countless beatings than come to terms with what they did when they found out SHIELD wasn’t giving them the Tesseract. Tears start flowing from your eyes again as you think about it, and you’re only snapped out of it when you hear your name being called. You slowly lift your head, and your eyes are met with Clint’s. “(Y/N)!”

He runs over to you, grabbing your face in his hands. “(Y/N), baby, you’re alive! Thank god you’re alive,” he starts mumbling an excessive amount, getting you out of that chair and taking you into his arms. He picks you up, carrying you out to the quinjet while Tony, Nat, Thor, Bruce, and Steve handle the rest of the HYDRA agents. “You’re okay, now. It’s okay,” he says, holding you and wiping the silent tears escaping from your eyes. You only begin to cry harder, however you make no noise at all. Clint finds that odd, knowing that when someone begins sobbing there’s usually sound to it. “What did they do to you…?”

You bury your head in his chest, shaking and crying, but remaining silent the whole time. Clint holds you, stroking your hair and trying to soothe you. When the other Avengers got back to the quinjet, they were met with Clint holding you in his arms, his cheeks stained with tears. “Is she okay?” Nat asks, going over to you. You don’t move from the position you’re in, but Clint nods, telling her you were okay. Nat could see the distant look in his eyes, though, and she knew something was wrong. She didn’t want to pry, so she just nodded and walked away. The ride home was silent, even Tony wasn’t talking. The whole time, Clint just held you in his arms.

When you all arrived at Avengers Tower, Clint lead you to his room immediately. “You can take a shower if you want to. You were gone for a while and I doubt they let you practice personal hygiene, so,” he tells you, and you nod. He looks at you for a moment, he already believes he knows what happened, but he asks you again, “What did they do to you?” You look at him for a moment, opening your mouth to talk but quickly closing it when you remember what happened. You look around, tears already welling up in your eyes again when you see his desk. You walk over to it, grabbing a post-it note and a pen, scribbling down what happened through tears. You hand it to him, sitting on his bed and holding your head in your hands. “They took your voice…” he whispers, nodding while reading what you wrote and covering his mouth. His assumptions were correct, and he immediately feels awful for you.

He sits next to you, pulling you into him. He holds you as you cry even more, trying to comfort you when he gets an idea. He holds up his index finger to you signifying you to give him one second, when he suddenly reaches for his ears. You look at him with curiosity, only to see him take his hearing aids out. He sits them on the nightstand next to his bed, turning to you. He points at his ears, shrugging and writing on the post it you wrote on. “Watch my lips.” You look at him, and he signs something to you. You do as he says and watch his lips, and you quickly realize he’s signing “Hello” to you. He motions toward himself, visually telling you to do it back to him. You sign “Hello” back to him, and he smiles. He reaches for his hearing aids again, putting them in again. “I can teach you ASL, you know. I’m fluent in it and you’re smart enough to do it,” he says quietly, and you look up at him. “It would just be ultimately easier for you to communicate, you know?” He wipes a tear from your cheek and gives you a small smile. “You can get through this. I know you can. And I’ll be right here with you the entire time. Always. You’re not alone.” You slowly nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “We’ll start tomorrow, you need to get some sleep,” he tells you. You nod, changing into his clothes and laying down next to him. He pulls you into him, humming a song to you to lull you to sleep.

It was difficult adjusting to your new life, and even more difficult learning ASL. You and Clint would practice all the time, but it still took a significant amount of time for you to become fluent in it. After about a year, you were becoming decently proficient at it. You still had a lot to learn, but you could communicate and get your points across. Although getting used to your new way of communication was taking work, Clint was making it as easy as possible for you. He frequently would take out his hearing aids now to make you feel like you weren’t alone. You get to know all the other Avengers, and actually manage to talk to Nat in ASL as well. Although Nat hated seeing one of her best friend’s struggle, seeing Clint help you out by taking his hearing aids out and making you feel not alone was one of the cutest things she sees. She also loves when Tony will try to get Clint’s attention when his hearing aids are out. It’s turned into Clint just pretending his hearing aids are out at this point, so he doesn’t have to talk to him. Nat never told anyone, but she saw how you two would refer to the rest of the Avengers, since you both had personalized names for everyone. Most of them were positive. Unless Stark made either one of you mad. Then it wasn’t as positive.

Although you were becoming adjusted to all of this, it was still very difficult for you at times. At times Clint would find you crying, and when he asked what was wrong, you’d tell him you missed singing. It was your own personal fear that he loved you less because you two couldn’t go sing together anymore because it played such a large role in your relationship. Any time you would communicate this to him, he would assure you he loved you for you, not your voice. He has to make sure you know that although he does miss singing duets with you and hearing your lovely voice, he would rather have you safe with him. He loved you, not just your voice. You thought it was funny how it changed from you being able to constantly assure him and make him feel like everything was going to be okay to him doing that to you. Granted, you still did assure and help him, but you never would have been able to deal with this if he hadn’t been there. You knew you would be able to handle anything now, as long as Clint was with you. And he is always with you.

#hawkeye x reader #clint barton x reader #avengers x reader #hawkeye imagine #clint barton imagine #avengers imagine #hawkeye #clint barton #avengers

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kingofthewilderwest · 7 years ago

Note

Don't worry, I take over my sleep time to read and write fanfictions. I wouldn't have time otherwise! I have an entire Word page with only links to fanfictions I still have to read! And it's all right to not read fanfictions if you don't want to. It's just an hobby among others. Anyway, you wrote fanfictions?? Now I'm curious, could I have a link, if you don't mind? Have a good night too and sorry for my grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language (btw, thank you for the likes <3 )

From this. Sorry I’m slow replying!! thanks for your wonderful messages! :)

No worries about grammar! Your English is great, and even if it weren’t, that’s no bother to me either. :) The fact that you’re communicating in a language that isn’t your first… just means you have extra skills and are even more awesome! :)

I love how dedicated you are to looking at others’ fanfictions, even creating a Word document page to make sure you remember them. That’s beautiful and cool. And I’m getting curious about what you’ve written, too!

Thanks so much for asking about my fics - this touches me! Sure, I’m happy to share! I tend to post all fics on tumblr and FFN, with FFN being my primary hub. On tumblr I use the tag #my fanfiction and tag all stories by their title. My FFN profile is kingofthewilderwest.

I’m so so so so so SO touched when anyone reads or interacts with my fics (though since I write casually, I ask no constructive criticism <3). Fanfiction tends to be my more casual creative writing avenue. Original novels are where I spend my most time, effort, editing, and attention - fanfiction comes out as a recreational side project. ^.^ I love connecting with fans and writing over the mutual fandoms we love. I hope it’s alright with you if I use this ask to self-advertise, list some of my fics for others who might be interested??

THE VIGILANTE’S WAR

HTTYD. YEAR: 2014. LENGTH: 57,110 WORDS. A mysterious, antagonistic dragon rider dubbed “the Vigilante” crosses paths with Hiccup, and her increasingly violent actions appear to be leading to war against Berk.

He tightened his hands, loosened them again. Breathed in, breathed out. He could feel himself stooped in the dirt, his shoulders hunched over his head, his knees buried in the ground and tucked underneath his torso. His neck was bent low close to the earth, providing him a good view of his hands and the ground and nothing else.

Well, and the blood.

That can’t possibly be all mine.

- PROLOGUE: FROM OUT OF THE HAZE

HTTYD 2′s original drafts had Valka as the main antagonist. I found this so interesting that I decided to rewrite HTTYD 2 - with a few of my own spins - on this concept. One of my most well-known fics, “The Vigilante’s War” is where I’ve gotten the most thorough reviews and most emotional reactions.

THE VIGILANTE’S LEGACY

HTTYD. YEARS: 2014-2016. LENGTH: 20,546 WORDS. There’s been four years of war between three factions. Drago’s army. The Vigilante and her dragons. Berk and their allies. But now, Chief Hiccup believes there’s a way to end the conflict. Sequel to “The Vigilante’s War.”

Hiccup spoke up. Cleared his voice. Tapped his pointer finger apprehensively on the cell’s iron door. “You said we were making a mistake.” Might as well speak straight to the point of his visit. “Something about ‘you and every one of your warriors are making a mistake’ or – or something like that.”

For a moment Hiccup wondered if Valka actually would reply. The calculating gaze she gave him from the corner of her prison certainly did not seem a positive sign. However, then, with a steady, lilting cadence to her voice, she succinctly affirmed, “I did.” Just those two words. Nothing more.

- VIII. THE MISTAKES OF WAR

It’s unfinished; I haven’t updated because I ran out of steam and didn’t receive enough reader feedback encouraging me to continue. Though I did have a very vivid final chapter in mind… that I still love… which I never got to…?

MEMOIRS

HTTYD. YEARS: 2015-2016. LENGTH: 44,289 WORDS. My ongoing collection of drabbles for HTTYD. Angst, pain, comfort, humor, crossovers, crack, it’s all there. Favorites include “Family Portrait,” “Stubble,” “Buffcup the Brawny,” and “Remember When.”

He held her hand softly, one wrinkled hand laid gently on top of another. It was just her and him now in the house all alone – for their children had left on a voyage with the grandkids, and would not be back for a week yet, if even two. It evoked the quietness of the old days, back before they were old, back during the times when they were newlyweds and younger even than their grandchildren were today. Oh, but the smell of her hair was just as refreshing now as when it was blonde.

- REMEMBER WHEN

DINNER AT DRAGON’S EDGE

HTTYD. YEAR: 2015. LENGTH: 5,452 WORDS. The gang’s settling in at Dragon’s Edge. To make sure everything operates smoothly, Hiccup suggests a chore rotation system. That means everyone has to do their fair share of the cooking… but it doesn’t mean everyone is a fair cook.

“Oh my gods, is this dinner or what the rats threw away?” Snotlout exclaimed, terrified at the Unidentified Edible Object before him.

Tuffnut picked it up with one experimental hand and held it out before him at a safe distance. People would have held poisonous snakes or bloodied torture devices more cheerily. Squinting his eyes and peering carefully at the peculiar specimen pinched between his fingers, rubbing under his chin with his other, free hand, Tuffnut remarked, “Looks something like what Barf and Belch poop out after they get sick and…”

- 1. ASSIGNING JOBS

This humorous fic I think is where I do best capturing HTTYD character personalities and interactions.

[SUPER]HERO THE HARD WAY

HTTYD. YEARS: 2014-2017. LENGTH: 86,566 WORDS. In a modern world where Berk is full of superheroes battling the League of Outcasts, power-less Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third struggles to receive appreciation for who he is. Through his crime-fighting journey, Hiccup learns that, while he might not have powers, he can become a Hero the Hard Way.

“I wasn’t born with anything. Don’t have anything. I’m the son of Chief Stoick “Skullcrusher” and I don’t have anything. Not even a superpower to turn objects purple. Which frankly would be completely pointless but at least it would have been something.“

He realized he was babbling and promptly shut his mouth. He looked over at Fishlegs, who appeared to be wordlessly processing the information. The teenager appeared baffled moreso than anything else, which at least meant he was not outright rejecting him.

“So you’re going to train to be a superhero… and you don’t have any powers? I got that right?”

“You got that right.”

“Wow.” Fishlegs said.

Hiccup waited for more.

“That’s actually really cool.”

- CHAPTER THREE: SIDEKICKED

This started as me intending to write one crack chapter. It turned into me envisioning a ROB / DOB modern AU where all characters were superheroes. The final product became a retelling of HTTYD 1′s basic concept: Hiccup gaining his peers’ approval despite being different. Somehow, despite me 70% adlibbing by the seat of my pants (should I be admitting this?), I had great fun. And it brought in the most reviews, follows, and favorites of any of my posted stories! Thanks for the reads and support, everyone!!!

RESET OR RESUME

UT. YEAR: 2016-2017. LENGTH: 85,841 WORDS. Gaster’s research unlocks the secret of time travel. After the Royal Scientist’s untimely end, one of Gaster’s colleagues - Sans - finds himself with the power to Reset. Confronted with unpleasant timelines and dangerous choices, Sans must decide how to navigate through time… if it’s worth resetting for a better future, continuing with hope for the present, or simply giving up.

No longer timid and silent, the human happily babbled all sorts of nonsense to Sans, everything from how to bake snow pies to how weird Sans’ skull looked to how beautiful the ribbon in their hair was to their opinions of Papyrus’ ‘battle body’ to how their mom didn’t like the color black to their personal opinion of ferrets to a long narrative of their encounter with a snail-loving old lady they met on the other side of the Ruins door. Everything could be the topic of a conversation. There was no filter and even less sense of restraint for this child.

“How are you a SKELETON?” their happy little high-pitched voice squeaked. They flew gallantly over a twig that rested, flat, on the surface of the snow. Powder flew everywhere as they landed heavily into the snowbank. “That means – that means you should be DEAD, you know!”

“who says i’m not dead?” Sans trolled with a wink.

With a shrieking giggle, they exclaimed, “Don’t be silly! Only ghosts are dead!”

“i could be a skeleton ghost.”

“No you – no you can’t.” The human seemed to be quite confident about their knowledge in paranormal metaphysics. “You can be a skeleton. You can be a ghost. But nobody – NOBODY – can be a skeleton ghost.”

“is that so?”

“YES so! You CAN’T be both. That would be wrong.” Maybe the human mentally categorized skeletons and ghosts as separate Halloween creatures, ensuring they were mutually exclusive concepts. It was always challenging to comprehend a child’s train of logic. “Except…” and now the child paused, leaning down and tugging at the sleeve of their sweater. Something thoughtful – at least as much as one so young could be thoughtful – passed over their eyes. They cocked their head to the side and stared at Sans. In the same sort of innocence with which they had talked about ferrets, the human inquired, “…can ghosts also be dust?”

- 5. KNOCKS [[File 5.2 IH-20150701-3-3]]

I have particular fondness for this fic. I spent more energy and care with this than any other I’ve posted. Drenched it through with UT lore. Edited and revised thoroughly. Had two beta readers examine my ASL for accurate representation. I wrote extensive outlines that were several page long color-coded charts, had all this meticulous structuring going on…

The problem was, this was an impossibly ambitious project. Life got in the way, too. The 85,841 words here aren’t close to the end of Part 1. The final two Parts were going to explain the weirdness within Part 1 (the story doesn’t begin in chronological order - it gets pieced together like a puzzle). What I planned to write would have included a complex characterization arc for Sans, every human child that’s visited the underground, and multiple resets containing main character deaths… until the story would end with Sans confronting Frisk in the Genocide Route.

Hopefully, despite the incompleteness, this is enjoyable from its comedy to its angst! I would at least encourage people to read the first few chapters! Or “Socks” - an entire chapter devoted to Sans and Gaster pulling sock pranks on each other.

SOMEHOW THEY’RE STILL OFFICERS

FMAB. YEAR: 2018-2019. LENGTH: 6,036 WORDS. Ahhhhhh yes. Team Mustang. The hand-selected, elite group of military officers who effectively spend their time… doing nonsense.

Everyone was scrambling at once. Mustang rushed forward to greet their guest, perfect composure only broken by the fast pace at which he moved. In fact the colonel’s posture was almost a proud enough display to make his lack of shirt go unnoticed. But Falman chucked his cards away at the same time he tried to salute; Breda was ducking from Falman’s sudden card shower; Fuery was launching pants and underwear in Havoc’s face; and Lieutenant Hawkeye, obviously abashed to be in this room at all, was covering her eyes with her hand in what was either her life’s longest sigh, or a pathetic attempt to hide her face and identity.

- WE WERE JUST PLAYING CARDS

My collection of FMA drabbles, particularly stories of Team Mustang shenanigans. Prompts / requests welcome for more adventures!

I have a few other drabbles posted, too. I also have unfinished chapters of Voltron fanfictions on my computer that I could share, too? Maybe I should? I’m currently working on several Royai fanfictions, other FMA drabbles, and a longer Deponia fanfiction.

Thank you again for being so nice and connecting with me over fanfiction and fandom and FMA and more. You’re a really wonderful and cool person and you made my day.

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toddykun · 7 years ago

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toddy, what do you think of donald and scrooge relationship in this episode???

oh anon, you just asked THAT question to my overanalyzing ass lmao thank u so much, i will indulge in this without restrictions ggg

little summary of donald and scrooge’s relationship in the episode: #TeamUncleForTheWin2k18 in a—more literal sense than expected. this gonna be a looooooooooooooooooooong post anon, so hold yourself. and take into account that this is my opinion and my interpretation so i could be right or wrong, we just dont know, so that :D

all those scrooge and donald’s bonding moments were wholesome and funny (i loved them with all my freaking heart is2g they having a better relationship is my fuel to keep living lmao) but there is still some things that are hanging on even after scrooge definition of family that is obviously about them so lets start

1. scrooge choosing donald immediately and ‘i was in the will?’ moment

after going awwww when scrooge excitedly goes around screaming game night and he immediately chooses donald and laughing my ass off because donald’s ‘i was in the will?’ line, all that got me thinking because i cant stop my overanalyzing ass lmao. why did scrooge choose donald and why was donald surprised to be in the will? the overcompetitive nature of scrooge answered the first one really fast, scrooge chose him, as always, because it benefits him for reasons, reinforced by the threat of them losing and removing him of the will, more than because he wanted them to bond over board games. this is actually not that weird for scrooge, he usually does this a lot, especially to donald. i actually have problems with this more because of the actual status of their relationship more than because scrooge did this, this will be explained with the next point so i will go with my second question.

why was donald surprised? there are two possible answers for this: 1. donald didnt ever really thought about the will matter, the theme is new to him so hes surprised 2. donald didn’t think scrooge cared enough for him to be in the will so hes surprised when he actually is. i will be expanding in the second one because donald could have thought various things from this:

1. he could have thought that because of scrooge’s greedy nature, the possibility of him having a will was nonexisting, he wouldn’t want his fortune to be someone else’s even after death, even when real scrooge would consider that a waste, the possibility of anyone being in scrooge’s will is a big ‘wait what’ to him 2. his board is the one getting everything lmao theyre the ones handling all those business stuff and that whats matter to scrooge, so why would anyone else be in the will? 3. if someone from the family was meant to be scrooge’s heir, it wouldnt be him, it would be only della, the twin that scrooge favored the most. definitely not him, the twin that scrooge reprimanded and dismissed the most. him? in the will? wtf? scrooge couldn’t care enough about him to put him in the will. but he does and whoa, wait what i am???? donald didn’t think scrooge would care, and that makes sense, this scrooge is terrible at really showing donald he cares about him outside from fighting and using him as bait. so, donald is surprised.

the good thing is, i actually see this version of scrooge having everyone in his will: the twins, the triplets (especially louie, hes probably his principal heir at this point lmao), webby, mrs beakley, launchpad, matilda (if shes alive), his parents (who are kind of immortal now?) even gladstone, fethry or grandma duck (if shes alive). leaving them all a special thing that would help them in some way, something with meaning for every person. especially to the twins, who are like his children. another good thing, scrooge is starting to show donald that he cares, enough to put him in the will and i hope this progress in scrooge showing him that he cares about him more than he actually shows him.

bonus: scrooge running stairs down with donald was precious and funny. 10/10. not bad, scrooge was just so excited. so cute.

2. ‘that’s why he chose him’, charades and non-verbal communication, understanding donald, and acting nonsensical moment.

‘ooooh, thats why he picked donald’, dewey just confirmed my suspicions about scrooge’s motivation for choosing donald, it saddens me but i expected it. again, not because scrooge did this because of his competitive strike but because he hasnt show donald that he would choose him even if he couldnt get something out of it. i want more scrooge respecting donald for who he is more than for what he can get out of him. i need scrooge choosing donald because he is family too cuz almost all the time he only chooses him for benefits. like overall, scrooge probably plays favoritism with the twins over anyone else in the family, but with the twins themselves? he favors della over donald, in an over ridiculous open way, he is really not trying to hide it. like, he recriminates donald for not being like della in the ‘17 comics? how fucked up is that? i try not to use the comics’ standpoint of their relationship because it upsets me honestly, they glorified della too much and abused donald too much. maybe because theyre from scrooge’s view of point? hes always going around talking about how great della was but donald? the series at least says that donald is actually freaking good, strong, smart and sharp and deserves the fandom getting over the top for him. the comics well….u know. but the thing is, the comics actually explain why donald is so surprised every time scrooge shows him affection or why donald looks not surprised when scrooge just uses him as a decoy, like bruh :/

‘you spent thirty years guessing what donald was saying, you must get good enough at non-verbal communication’ donald and scrooge are, not-so-surprisingly, good at charades (della must be too, now that i think about it, if scrooge and donald are almost unstoppable then the twins are really hardcore about it), this comes from donald having a speech impediment, something that probably led him to use a lot of non-verbal communication in the past. kids with especially difficult speech impediments to deal with rely heavily on non-verbal communication, usually because they develop social anxiety, insecurities and are overall scared of not being understood and being punished for it, especially outside of their safe circle (bullying, indifference, little to none social circle). baby donald probably suffered from this (who am i kidding, he definitely suffered from it, hell, donald is the most suffering classical disney character honestly the old comics are not even subtle about him being mentally ill and disabled), these kids can even stop altogether talking even to the ppl they know can understand them. all this comes into play if we assume that scrooge hanged with the twins since they were kids. hortense or not, grandma duck or not, scrooge spent time with the twins like he spends it now with the triplets. donald is not the most confident person, since he was a kid, for a good reason, he probably didn’t talk a lot as a kid with ppl outside his safe circle, scrooge comes to play later into his life so hes probably an outsider at the start of their relationship. but adventure needs communication for teamwork and to keep kids safe out there you need to be able to understand them and they need to understand you. this left scrooge with only an option: learn to understand donald, no matter what method he uses. charades? scrooge understands. ASL? scrooge understands. unintelligible gibberish? SCROOGE UNDERSTANDS! wow, hello, lost confidence.

that probably boosted donald’s confidence quite greatly. an outsider, uncle scrooge that is grumpy and kind of asocial, gave the effort to understand little scared and unintelligible donald that probably only his twin and parents until now could understand perfectly. if that didnt bust his confidence idk what could. points for scrooge for being a great uncle!

for all this, he hasn’t told donald he doesn’t understand him because he does understand him, almost perfectly (like the triplets should do, just saying), he isnt going to have an ‘i dont understad you’ moment…..yet i expect it doesn’t happen or else, im gonna cry, first the triplets who had lived with him all their life? and now scrooge who webby said has spent at least thirty years with him? fucking come on. if della comes back and she doesn’t understand his twin brother perfectly im gonna cry, fucking honestly. donald needs to confidently talk with his speech impediment, excitedly, happy, almost unintelligible but with the confidence that there are ppl out there that do understand him and love him. i expect scrooge and della to be those ppl (not counting the caballeros, uno, storkules, and other family members, who can maybe understand him but arent with him constantly to remind him to not let down his confidence in that matter).

also they fighting nonsensically is the best thing, because they do that a lot, they fight over the most ridiculous things and they act like that sometimes, just pure idiocy over the most unimportant matters is like their default mode is the best. they’re can be so ridiculously petty, i love them.

3. ‘team uncle for the win!’, hug and retreat and lets just shook hands moment

THEY HUGGED!!!!SO!!!GOOD!!!!! wait no keep hugging what are you doing? show each other how much you care, you need it, you dummies, goddamit and now you’re shaking hands ok why not fucking god

well besides that, ‘team uncle for the win!’ was a beautiful, spontaneous and wholesome moment that i shouldnt overanalyze but i will anyways lmao i have the opinion that scrooge said that spontaneously but can be interpreted in a more literal sense to understand scrooge and donald’s actual status of their relationship. team uncle is literally for the win, it wouldnt exist if it didn’t fulfill that specific function, donald probably knows this team up is more a way for them to win, for scrooge to win. but when against all odds they are successful in jenga (lol) this triggers something in scrooge that genuinely burst him into an affection spring and makes him shout that, it was just a piece, they both know it but its almost the first time they have bonded in years and donald, who is particularly sensitive and reacts a lot to emotions, reacts as well with affection and excitement, and what happens when ppl sync up their emotions spontaneously like that? they are overflowed with it, they need to act on it, emotions are almost impossible to control, they’re unpredictable, quick and extremely powerful driving forces so what obviously happens? THEY HUG!!!! emotions made these two idiots hug, they havent hug in years!!! YEARS!!! and they hug again in years because they were overflowed with genuine affection!!! but like i say, emotions are quick and when they end, its like a slap of realization in the face, they go ‘omg i did that!’ and separate immediately, just to go and cordially shake hands? when emotions are involved, context usually flies out the window, they probably forgot ten years of separation in that instant, but when it ended all those years came back and made it kind of uncomfortable. so their ‘we’re doing this just to win’ attitude comes back.

but it was good! its a good start! i dont know if they showed each other this kind of spontaneous affection but without embarrassment, pre-della disappearing but it. is. GOOD. these two need as much fluff as the triplets and webby get. uncle-nephew/niece relationship is a big thing in the DuckTales universe, and for scrooge and donald to not have as much as the triplets get kills me inside. they need this the most, so i hope this season provides because it started well in that matter, i hope it progresses into unapologetic and genuine affection without embarrassing departings and weird shake hands.

4. helping him get up moment

completely underrated and wholesome moment, like there are no downs at this moment, its too good, they helping him up? nice. scrooge looking at them mad while protectively holding onto his boy who i remind you is in the will and for consideration, he’s one of his heirs (the other one being definitely della and very probably the triplets)? so nice. beautiful, i love it. mindless fluff this was. 10/10.

5. using donald as a weapon and scrooge’s definition of family.

like theres a difference between fighting alongside scrooge and being used to fight by scrooge. and here we see it, that even when scrooge is technically using donald, they are actually fighting together, its different from when scrooge just forces donald to danger and fights and you know why? because donald is doing it willingly. he is enjoying himself fighting, donald has shown from time to time that he likes to fight. so when he fights willingly and scrooge joins him, he enjoys himself, he is happy. like, look at his face, donald is into it, this is a duck that likes adventure and fighting, this is different from the gladstone’s episode and the ‘17 comics, where scrooge just pushes donald into things without his consent or knowledge because what? he thinks donald wouldnt understand? that donald is going to say no to protect his family if necessary? goddamit scrooge, if you took the time to let donald trust you and explain things to him, he would do the things you ask him, he is smart and u know it. this is one of the things where i hc the twins to differ, adult della followed scrooge almost blindly into danger, pushed by her own ambition and thirst for adventure, while adult donald, careful donald who was probably in the navy and has seen things and adventure spirit has matured, did not. i dont think scrooge took that as good as he should. scrooge favored della for throwing herself at danger just like that, confidently and recklessly, but would frown at donald, who turned around and asked why, who said no, who said but, who said this doesnt worth losing ourselves, who was again, too careful. so, scrooge decides to push him around, to see if this could trigger something, instead of talking him into it, and we know how hard it can be for scrooge to talk things trough. i dont think scrooge had any malicious intent but he didnt choose the best way into that and well, when you force someone into something they dont want, it doesnt end well. scrooge needs to learn to talk things through. also, scrooge needs to apologize, donald already forgave him but just that its not going to fix ten years of separation and past issues. scrooge needs to put his weight into this relationship too. and this probably starts with scrooge’s definition of family:

“You drive each other crazier than anyone could and still care about each other more than anyone!”

we have seen this particular definition of their relationship play into the old comics a lot, and in some low level in the series. but the thing is and i have pointed it out several times for the whole post, scrooge is not exactly good at showing donald how much he cares about him in the series to the point that it surprises donald when scrooge does show that he cares about him, and it makes sense that donald is surprised by it, scrooge had openly displayed favoritism for della saying how incredible she was but for donald the only thing he has really openly displayed is dismissal, comparisons to his sister and that scrooge usually just uses him to his beneficial. scrooge needs to learn how to show his affection to the twin he has left effectively, we know he cares, but donald doesn’t and for good reason! scrooge, show him your love for real!

in conclusion, their relationship is improving! it still needs time and adjustment and for scrooge to meet donald halfway into the whole forgiving the past stuff. however, they love each other despite everything and i think thats what matters the most :D they can do it! these ducks dont back down! AND…

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 2 years ago

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Oh yeah granny squares are super easy but I'm subscribed to happyberry crochet and bruntacality, like I said I don't watch every video, I just watch whatever I feel like atm. There was a video I watched to do the bag and I loved the person who did it bc they explained the magic loop super easy that now I've mastered it, but they're in Spanish and idk if you could put subtitles but they would go slow and everything. I really wanna make cute little tank tops with granny squares for the summer time

And omg I just started my period too but it's still early so it's no Niagara falls or anything yet, and Gary get ready for menstrual rage lmao no I'm joking

- 🍓

I’m happy to hear that they are super easy bc I’m obsessed with granny square stuff but I don’t want to buy the mass produced stuff that was made in sweatshops, I’d rather make it myself or buy it from a small business or smth but I know that the kind of granny square pants I want would be SOOO expensive

I’m screenshotted the ask tho so I can subscribe

And the subtitles will be fine, I took Spanish for two years and I understand a lot of it but can only speak a little bit 😢 but I’m sure I’ll pick it up again bc I’ve been wanting to refresh and learn it again along with ASL bc idk I think everyone should eventually learn Spanish and ASL

Wow I got super off topic but thank you for the recs they will definitely help me

And omg yesss the granny square tank tops are sooo cute!! I want to make green, brown, and white granny square shorts and pants, I love those colors sm and that’s basically the only colors I wear beside navy blue and I saw ones like that on Pinterest so I thought I’d be perfect

But I also really want to make a cardigan bc I always see those and they are so cute, I’m also just such a cardigan girl 😩

STOP NOT GARY GET READYDKDK

No frl tho, mine is heavy and it’s killing me so I’m manifesting yours isn’t too bad!!! I always like doing a little self care when I’m on my period so maybe you should have a nice bath or something when you get a break bc I know you’re a busy girl 😩

#omg I’ll shut up now damn I talk a lot

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kyleanand · 7 years ago

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A Quiet Place: Review

-Acting: 2/2

The cast of A Quiet Place is admittedly small. That being said, each actor has a unique presence that is seen - not heard, as the plot progresses. All of the actors commit to their parts perfectly. John Krasinski excels as director and also dad of the year in this film. Every facial expression he makes screams (silently) of desperation and trepidation. You can tell that Lee cares deeply for the well-being of his family and you want to root for him the whole way through. Emily Blunt plays the extremely resourceful Evelyn Abbott. Evelyn’s quick-thinking and tenacity definitely keep you on the edge of your seat as things predictably go from bad to worse. Noah Jupe plays Marcus Abbott, the brother of Regan and Beau. Marcus is a grounded character, albeit underused. Speaking of this, Regan acts as the ‘heart’ of the Abbott family/McGuffin of the film. Her crucial role is quite simple for audience members to understand but Simmonds gives an outstanding performance regardless.

-Cinematography: 1/2

The cinematography of A Quiet Place is quite good. Colour, darkness and camera movement is used to great effect in the movie. Although the film is billed as a horror film, I would hesitate to use this designation. While the cinematography is definitely horror-ish, I think the film is more akin to a sci-fi thriller. Genre classifications aside, I had a problem with how the monsters of the film looked. (They’re totally aliens by the way). They look very CGI-y and unreal. I’m sure if I was running around the Abbott’s farm I would be scared out of my wits, but because I was sitting in a movie theatre looking at a screen, the creatures look very out of place.

-Sound: 2/2

Wow. If you’re looking for a film with great sound design, this is the movie to watch. You know it’s good when the crew made no noise when filming to incorporate the organic sounds from the locations. And come on… you knew that before walking in to the theatre that sound would need to be perfectly mastered for this movie to work. Music wasn’t bad either.

-Script: 0/2

I think I’m probably in the minority here, but the plot of the movie really didn’t jive with me. Good stories allow the audience to suspend their disbelief so that we may conveniently overlook any glaring plot holes or narrative inconsistencies. We’ve all heard the saying: “Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” but this movie might as well be called: “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, and then into a supernova.” Don’t get me wrong. I’m totally okay with the protagonists struggling during the plot. In fact, I think that all stories should do this. However, given the fact that the setting for this film is extremely self-contained both in terms of time and space, it becomes a little unbelievable that so much ka-ka can hit the fan over such a short time span., I get what the writers were going for, but the execution of the plot points is very haphazard. There is so much going on during the 2nd and 3rd act that it’s extremely hard not to scratch your head at the narrative decisions made.

-X-factors: 2/2

It’s very rare that you’ll see a contemporary Hollywood film with such sparse verbal dialogue. The usage of American Sign Language is less a novelty for audiences and more of a serious aspect of the narrative’s modus operandi. The fact that all of the actors learned ASL for their roles... (with the obvious exception of Millicent Simmonds as Regan), is a remarkable feat. Most importantly, all of the characters are totally believable as members of the Abbott family. The creatures of the film are unique to the genre on film, even though they look a little silly at times. The film isn’t totally original and is a tad bit melodramatic lacking substance. I am most obviously reminded of Signs (2002) and the video game: The Last of Us (2013) in terms of tone and plot. However, the novum of A Quiet Place rests with its sound design, and usage of genre fluidity.

-Verdict: 7/10

I think A Quiet Place is a fresh take on an established genre. That being said, if you look closely, you can see the inspiration Krasinski perhaps consciously or subconsciously borrows from. All of the actors in this film are great. However, the plot sometimes suffers from some head-scratching moments of unfortunate coincidence. That being said, A Quiet Place knocks it out of the park with its uncanny sound design.

#a quiet place #john krasinski #emily blunt #Film Review #film

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dantelovesvirgil · 5 years ago

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Im watching deaf u and it really shows my ableism bc i discovered that they have another sign for applauding that's not clapping your hands together and at first i thought it still was an hand gesture and it was strange to me that they used another and only after i realised that to deaf people clapping hands to applaude probably wouldn't mean anything since they don't hear the clap so wow I should really learn sign language

Btw on a second note, I was thinking the gesture used in asl to applaude it's a very good visual traduction of applause, bc hearing clapping hands makes it difficult to hear anything else, so moving your hands up gives the same effect, only visually

#and tbh schools should teach it #Me Being Ableist: Ignorance At Its Best #oversharing as always #probably a result of being so self centered to avoid talking directly to people to not bother them #or maybe i am just a sad person #meh

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adorkablephil · 8 years ago

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Fic: Listen (Chapter 8)

Title: Listen Rating: PG Word Count: 3.5K (this chapter) Summary: Phil is a successful YouTuber, and Dan is a fan desperate for attention. Sounds like 2009, right? Except Phil is Deaf. Tags: AU, Deaf!Phil, Mute!Dan, Both YouTubers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Conversion Disorder Author’s Note: I am posting this on the first day of the International Week of the Deaf, which extends from September 18-24, 2017. The theme this year is “Full Inclusion with Sign Language,” and you can learn more about it here. This webpage gives information both in text and in sign language, so you can read a short bit about each of the year’s campaign messages while simultaneously watching someone sign the same information. (Though it’s the International Week of the Deaf, I think the signing on the page linked above is all in ASL.) I strongly encourage you to check out the webpage and not only learn a bit more about deaf issues but also see a bit of sign language in action! Fic also available on AO3 here

[Masterlist of all “Listen” chapters on Tumblr]

Chapter 8: The Definition of “Normal”

A few days later, Phil showed up while Dan’s parents were at work. Dan had the day off … or, rather … he had all days off … because he’d quit his Asda job with no notice. His manager had always treated him as if an inability to speak implied intellectual inferiority, so using rather easily interpreted sign language to tell him to shove it had been quite liberating. He’d gleefully reenacted the scene for Phil over Skype when he got home.

So now Dan’s parents had both gone to work for the day, and Dan was home alone. Or at least he was alone until Phil showed up as planned with a lorry, a huge pile of empty boxes, and two of his most muscular friends. He introduced Dan to Reggie and William, and the four of them immediately set to work packing up everything Dan owned as quickly as possible.

Not quickly enough, though, as one of the nosy neighbors must have spied on the boys carrying boxes out to the lorry and had phoned Dan’s dad at work, resulting in Mr. Howell storming into the house to demand what was going on. Phil immediately rushed to Dan’s side, but was surprised to see Dan standing tall and stubborn in the hallway, facing his father, who was actually an inch or two shorter than his adult son.

Dan’s father was yelling something, his face red, eyes bulging, but Dan simply replied in sign language, which only seemed to infuriate his father even more. Phil saw him sign, “If my things don’t belong to me simply because you paid for some of them, then I guess you aren’t really my parent, just my landlord. Wow … it all makes a lot more sense now!” Dan let the sarcasm in his expression show, making sure his dad would get the meaning even though he wouldn’t understand the BSL.

Mr. Howell, shouting and gesturing wildly, stepped to block William as he carried a box toward the front door. William glanced back at Phil, then at Dan. He couldn’t hear a word Dan’s dad was saying, of course, but he’d do whatever Dan and Phil decided. Phil looked at Dan in concern, but Dan merely scowled and nodded to William, signing angrily, “Ignore him.” William grinned and nodded, then neatly sidestepped the older man and carried his box out the door to the lorry.

Dan told Phil, “Go ahead and help with the last few boxes. We’re almost done here.” He turned to look at his father and signed, “I can’t wait to leave this fucking place.” Phil hadn’t taught him that particular word, so he suspected Craig’s sneaky influence.

Dan stood his ground, facing his dad, impassively letting the man rant while the other three young men finished packing up his things and carrying them out, blithely unaffected by the shouting going on. Phil saw both Reggie and William make repeated small gestures of support, giving Dan a thumbs-up sign or clapping him on the shoulder as they passed. Each time, Dan signed to thank them again for helping … and to reiterate that they should just pay no attention to his apoplectic father.

When Dan’s room contained nothing but empty furniture, all personal effects gathered safely and stowed for travel, Phil decided a little show of force wouldn’t go amiss. He gestured to Reg and Will to come with him, and the three of them stood behind Dan who still faced his father. Dan turned to look at Phil, and Phil told him, “We’re ready,” and Dan nodded. Phil rested a hand at the small of Dan’s back, just a small gesture of support, but he saw Dan’s father notice the movement and frown even more deeply. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will and Reg cross their arms, impressive biceps bulging. There was a reason he’d chosen them out of all his friends. He hadn’t known exactly what they’d be facing today, and he was glad of their intimidating presence backing Dan up.

“You’re a crap father,” Dan signed calmly, looking his dad straight in the face. Mr. Howell rolled his eyes and said something spiteful Phil didn’t quite catch, but the words “crazy hand stuff” figured in there somewhere. Dan just shrugged. “I don’t have to care what you think anymore. And you don’t have to worry about me embarrassing you anymore, either.” Dan looked his father up and down dismissively, then signed, “I know you don’t understand anything I’m saying, but I don’t really care, because you never really tried to understand me in the first place. I’m moving out now, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I left a letter for Mum on the kitchen counter. Have a nice life. Or don’t. It’s nothing to do with me anymore.”

And then Dan shocked Phil by reaching out, taking his hand, and leaning over to kiss Phil lightly on the lips. He turned to look at his father again, the man’s mouth hanging open in appalled surprise, and just smiled smugly, then led Phil to the door and out of the house, Reggie and William following them like protective shadows. Dan’s father seemed frozen in place.

The front of the lorry only had seats for two people, so Dan and Phil sat together on the floor in the back of the lorry, squeezed between boxes of clothing and books and video games and childhood mementos. Now that the adrenaline had passed, Dan trembled in Phil’s arms, but Phil just held him close and stroked his hair and marveled at the display of courage he’d just witnessed.

They hadn’t been able to bring the piano, of course, but in his thoughts Phil swore to the vulnerable boy in his arms that someday, someday he would get Dan a piano all his own, and he would watch those graceful fingers dance over the keys every day and watch the ecstasy that shone on Dan’s face when music took him over.

Phil might not be able to hear the notes, but he could experience the music by watching Dan as it moved him, and to him Dan’s music was beautiful.

Eventually all the boxes were piled haphazardly in Phil’s lounge … except that it wasn’t just his lounge anymore, was it? It was theirs. His and Dan’s.

“This is our lounge,” he said, emphasizing the crucial sign. Then he repeated it, just to make sure Dan understood. “Ours.”

Dan looked around himself in wonder, then looked back at Phil and signed dazedly, “Ours.” And his smile was like the sun for a moment, until he simply wilted, collapsing melodramatically onto the sofa, which they’d kept purposely free of boxes. “Fucking exhausting day,” he signed, and Reggie and William laughed.

“Clearly you’re not the only one teaching this one to sign,” William teased Phil.

Phil shook his head in defeat. “I introduced him to my friend Craig. He’s a bad influence.”

Reggie nodded, “Right. Craig. Hearing guy, right? Signs pretty well. Drinks like a fish.”

Dan sat up suddenly. “Oh! You guys totally helped me today, and I should be thanking you. What do you do when people help you move? I’ve never moved before. You buy people beer and pizza to thank them, right? I mean, I think I saw that on tv. Do you guys want some beer?” He glanced anxiously back and forth from Reg to Will, both of whom looked amused.

Phil commented, “I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen you sign! Anxiety must be a good motivator.”

William shook his head admiringly. “Oh, he was signing up a storm at that dad of his. Must have learned some of those signs from Craig, too.” He patted Dan on the back and said, “Good on you, mate. That guy deserved worse than what you gave him, but you gave him hell.”

Dan ducked his head, shrugging uncomfortably. “He just … he’s always been like that. Ever since I stopped …” he glanced around nervously from face to face then look determined, “since I stopped talking.” He crossed his arms defensively, then seemed to realize that he couldn’t talk that way and unfolded them. He signed, “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

William signed his approval, clapping his hands together in silent applause, then mimed reverent bowing down to Dan over and over again, which Reggie joined in on, until they had Dan giggling.

William stopped goofing off and looked Dan straight in the face, serious, and signed, “No one has the right to treat you that way. You stood your ground, you kept your cool, you told the truth, and you got the fuck out of there. You’re a fucking survivor, mate. Don’t forget it. You made it through, and you survived it, and you got out. Good on you. Congratulations.” And then he pulled Dan into a rough sort of laddish hug, complete with back slapping and a quick tousle of Dan’s hair as they pulled apart.

Dan looked a bit disconcerted afterward, but not actually unhappy. He smoothed at his hair and adjusted his fringe, smiling shyly. “So … thank you guys for all your help. Should we … we should get pizza or something to thank you, right? And … beer? You guys probably want beer! Do you want beer?” He seemed very much out of his element, but Phil loved him for how hard he was trying to connect with Reg and Will. Talking to other people was still very new to him, but Phil thought he was doing great.

They ended up ordering a lot of pizza (Will and Reg were big guys and they ate like ravening wolves) and drank Ribena instead of beer while they lay exhausted on the sofa watching Donnie Darko. Reg and Will ended up leaving before the movie ended, both declaring that the film made no sense anyway, and wished Dan a happy housewarming. Reg winked broadly when he said that, which made Dan blush and Phil laugh.

And then they were alone. The flat felt different—even with Dan’s things still in boxes, just the awareness that it was now their home, instead of just Phil’s home which Dan visited on occasion. This was Dan’s home now, too. Phil pulled him close on their sofa and they watched the rest of the film on their tv until the activity and emotion of the day caught up with them and they were ready to go to sleep in their bed.

They both got into their pajamas, neither having the energy for anything acrobatically romantic tonight, and climbed into bed together, sitting up and facing each other so they could still talk, but with the duvet pulled up over their legs so they could just slide down to sleep whenever they were ready.

Phil said, “We should talk about whether you want to get new stuff for the flat. Like, if you don’t like this duvet, or if you want a different shower curtain or something.” He paused, then continued hesitantly, “Maybe you didn’t get to have things the way you liked them before, but now you do. I want this to be your real home, the place where you feel happy and safe and loved, a place where what you want always matters. Because what you want matters to me so much, Dan. Making you happy matters to me so much!”

Dan reached out to squeeze Phil’s hand before letting go to sign, “That house never felt like home to me, at least not since maybe when I was a kid. I never felt like I was really home except the times when I came to visit you. But that isn’t about the flat, it’s about you. You’re what feels like home, Phil. So I was already home when we were sitting together in the back of that lorry crushed between all those boxes. You don’t have to do anything to make this feel like home to me, Phil—all you have to do is be here.”

A few days later, the doorbell rang, causing the light to flash, and Phil didn’t bother to get up. Dan could let the person in, because they were just expecting a delivery from Tesco. Living in such a big city now, Dan had been going out less often, afraid that fans might recognize him on the street, so they were having their groceries delivered. Phil could have done the shopping himself, but … well … lazy.

But Dan didn’t immediately return with several plastic bags full of foodstuffs. Instead, he reemerged with a stunned look on his face and a plate of small cakes in his hands, trailing after Phil’s beaming mum like a lost duckling.

Phil got up off the couch and ran to hug his mum, signing, “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming over!” He took the plate of cakes from a very dazed-looking Dan and rushed it into the kitchen to leave it on the counter, then rushed back to the lounge.

His mum was signing to Dan—well probably SimComming actually, as Phil noticed her mouth moving and he’d long ago told her Dan could hear—and Dan just stood there, looking completely overwhelmed.

“I kept asking Phil to bring you over so we could meet you, since you were here in Manchester so often and we live so nearby, but you never came.” She put her hands on her hips, looking disapproving, but then continued signing. “Well, now you’re living here, so I decided that I would just come over and finally get to meet you and simply insist that you come to dinner this Sunday, as I’m doing a roast. Everyone will be there, so you can meet Phil’s father and brother as well. Everyone signs, you know, so that won’t be a problem, and I won’t take no for an answer. I even brought cakes in case I needed a bribe. Phil said you like cakes, and I certainly know he does!” She glanced smugly at Phil and he shrugged, guilty as charged.

Dan stared at Phil’s mum as if he’d just been run over by a particularly friendly train. Phil had gotten his unblinking stare from her, though, and she simply gazed at Dan without saying anything else, waiting for him to respond.

Eventually, Dan signed hesitantly, “I do like cakes. Thank you for bringing them, but you didn’t have to bribe me. I’m grateful for the invitation and of course I would be honored to join your family for dinner. Thank you for asking me.” He smiled, but it looked very strained. Phil could tell he was nervous but trying not to offend this nice lady he’d never met before. His vocabulary had gone all posh, always a sure sign he felt particularly uncomfortable.

Phil’s mum beamed at him and brushed her hands together as if pleased with the accomplishment of some allotted task. “Well, I have a million errands to run, so I should be off, but we’ll see you on Sunday, Dan.” She fingerspelled his name, as Phil had always done when discussing him with his family, a little embarrassed about the soppiness of the name sign he’d been using when talking to Craig and Dan. Then she pulled Dan into a warm hug—Phil knew his mum hugged with as much enthusiasm as he did himself—and Phil saw Dan’s eyes go wide, but he returned the hug awkwardly.

And then, with a last, “Enjoy the cakes, boys!” Phil’s mum had gone as quickly as she’d arrived, and Dan just stared at Phil, obviously in shock.

“I guess you’re coming to dinner on Sunday,” Phil said happily. He’d asked Dan for this several times but Dan had always pled off.

“Yeah, about that,” Dan frowned. “She signed the BSL sign for dinner, but out loud she said ‘tea.’ What’s up with that?”

Phil waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a Northern thing. She means Sunday dinner.”

Dan nodded, still looking a little dazed, and collapsed onto the sofa. He had the look of a man bracing himself for the greatest challenge of his life.

Dinner with Phil’s family went swimmingly, of course. Everyone in the family but Phil was hearing, but they had also all been using BSL his whole life, so they SimCommed throughout the meal and Phil felt sure Dan could understand everything being said and could participate as much as he liked.

And, to Phil’s surprise, Dan did participate in the conversation. After an initial period of paralyzing shyness, he slowly began commenting on the meal, responding to questions about himself, asking questions about Phil’s childhood, and even discussing his videos.

“We’ve watched you on YouTube,” Phil’s dad admitted. “We were curious about this mysterious young man so important in our son’s life.”

Dan reddened, always so uncertain about the quality of his work, how others would perceive him, worried about criticism or judgment. But of course Phil knew his family wasn’t like that.

“Your style is so unique!” Phil’s mum enthused, but Phil’s dad interrupted.

“Did you know we watched a lot of silent films when Phil was young? Before he was old enough to read subtitles, we watched a lot of the real oldies. Phil’s favorite was always Buster Keaton—always a goof, that one.” He smiled fondly at his son, knowing that the gentle teasing wouldn’t sting. “Kathryn and Martyn and I have often commented how interesting it is that you chose a silent movie style when that was really Phil’s first experience with film. Did you choose that style because of him?”

Dan shook his head. “I didn’t even know about that! When I decided to start making videos, I wanted to … I didn’t want people to know that I can’t talk.” He looked ashamed, but Phil’s mum reached across the table to rest her hand on his, and Dan smiled at her gratefully. “The silent movie theme just seemed like an interesting way to make it seem like … a creative choice, rather than a way of … I don’t know … hiding.”

Phil’s dad shook his head, “You don’t need to hide anything, son. You’re fine just the way you are. But I understand why you would feel self-conscious. I’m glad you found a way to express yourself that felt safe for you.” He glanced at Phil again. “When Phil first started making the videos where he spoke about his life, we knew he might get criticism for being Deaf, for signing in such a public way. A lot of people don’t understand. But we were proud of him for being himself and not letting fear get in his way. Deaf people can do anything hearing people can do, and someone who doesn’t speak orally can do anything, too. Being unable to hear or speak doesn’t affect your opportunities in life. You can do anything you set your mind to, just as Phil can.”

Phil’s mum added, “It’s lovely that you found a way to be so creative and make such lovely videos, but I do hope that someday you feel more comfortable with being who you are, dear. Because there is nothing wrong with you at all. You are a wonderful boy just the way you are.”

Dan quickly excused himself to use the toilet and did not return for some time. Phil’s parents got concerned and asked Phil if they had overstepped, and he assured them that they’d said nothing wrong. He knew Dan well enough to know why he’d fled.

When Dan came back to the table, his eyes were puffy and rimmed with red, and Phil knew he couldn’t be the only one aware of the fact that Dan must have been crying, but none of them commented on the fact. They just changed the subject back to Buster Keaton, asking Dan his opinions on the old silent films, and let the more personal subjects drop.

On the bus home, Dan told Phil, “I’ve never sat around the dinner table and just talked with people. I’ve never had a conversation like that, just … normal. Like I was normal. Not since I can remember, anyway. I don’t know how to feel. It’s … it feels overwhelming.”

Phil replied, “I know they can be a bit much, but they really loved you, Dan. I hope you’ll learn to like them, too. They’re important to me, and I’m so happy they finally got to meet you!”

Dan signed emphatically, “I already like them. Tonight, at dinner, they felt more like family than anyone I’m biologically related to. I felt … accepted. You’ve always made me feel that way, but this was the first time I really felt like other people really saw me as a person … not as a freak.”

The expression on his face looked like joy and confusion and healing all wrapped into one, and Phil pulled him into his arms and kissed his lips gently. Another woman on the bus eyed them disapprovingly, and Phil didn’t know if it was because of the kiss or the signing, but he didn’t care a bit.

Author’s End Note: Okay, this fic is going to be a little longer than planned. This particular chapter became ridiculously long and so I’ve split it into two, which adds a chapter … and I’ve also decided to add an epilogue. So it’s going to be 11 chapters instead of 9. That’s the current plan, anyway.

An Additional Note About SimCom: The main reason that SimCom (speaking orally at the same time as signing) is controversial is that it’s literally communicating in two languages at the same time. Sign language isn’t just a word-for-word translation of a spoken language; it has its own syntax, morphology, structure, and all that. So SimComming is sort of like trying to speak English at the same time as you’re writing the same thing in German (a language with a very different syntax, structure, etc.). Generally, the person’s first/primary language ends up being expressed more effectively than the other, so when a hearing person fluent in BSL speaks at the same time as they sign, they generally do not sign as clearly as they would if they were just focusing on the BSL and not on simultaneously translating, and so deaf people will not receive the communication as well as hearing people will. SimCom is very common, however, among hearing people in the Deaf community, people who became deaf later in life, and people in a group that includes both deaf and hearing folks. Quite a few people in this chapter and the next chapter SimCom for those kinds of reasons.

[Continue to Chapter 9]

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