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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Restless Compromise

Characters: Alegría Herrera, Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield, Everett Lakey, Zendaya, Zoe Saldana

Word Count: 2,005

Warnings: Drinking Alcohol(no underage drinking), Mild language

A/N: the next part(5) is a little heavy

Part Four

"Wait a second, so he's Tom now, but I'm still Mr.?" Harrison looked at you squinting his eyes. You looked at him confused for a second, then you covered your mouth giggling. "Oh I get it," you smiled, "sorry Harrison," you grinned. "That's much better Alegría," he gave you a nod, "Tom when is everyone else getting here, I'm hungry." Tom rolled his eyes, his lips curved upward. "They'll be here when they want to be here," he mocked Harrison. "What if this is just an epic prank? What if they just set us up mate?" Harrison's eyes were wide with curiosity. "That's the worst case scenario isn't it?" you sneered at him. "Very funny, but it is very possible isn't it?" Harrison replied.

"You're an only child Alegría?" Everett questioned after taking a drink from him glass. "I'm actually not, I have an older sister," you shook your head. "Really? What's her name?" he wasn't breaking eye contact. "Yamalet," you took a bite from your Penne pasta avoiding his eyes. "She lives in Mexico," Tom made a point of ending the conversation there. Everett was sitting opposite from you, next to Zendaya and Zoe. Everyone was drinking alcoholic drinks other than you, you were drinking some sort of pomegranate sparkler, it was very good and tingled in your mouth. "Do you have a boyfriend back home?" Zoe smiled at you, she was so smooth with her questions, so genuinely interested in what everyone had to say. "I don't actually," you smiled at her, your cheeks were probably pink now. "Probably for the best," she winked in a way that said there were better things to do. "Alegría join me?" Tom stood and looked down at you. You looked at him dumbfounded, you shook yourself out of the trance he put you in and stood. "Excuse me," you smiled politely following Tom away from the table, out of the dimly lit room and into the night. You stood in silence, taking in the warm breeze coming in, his hand grazing against yours. It was comfortable, it was the most calm you had felt all day. "Alegría?" he stayed facing the street, you did the same, nervous to look at him. "Yes Tom?" you answered, your voice had a specific softness you couldn't place. "How would you feel about going to dinner with me?" he turned to face you. "Aren't we at dinner right now?" you smiled, looking at your shoes, you weren't wearing any nail polish. "I mean, dinner with me," he spoke slowly. You looked up, your cheeks were burning. "I would love to join you for dinner Tom," you looked away, embarrassed. "Do you want to ditch?" his tone was pouring with mischief. "That sounds like a promising proposition Mr. Holland," you smiled up at him, his eyes were the color of milk chocolate, you got lost in them so easily. "I'll be back in a moment Ms. Ale," he walked away, you swore you saw a wink, which made you blush. You couldn't believe what was happening, you hadn't even finished your meals. "Wait," you mumbled to yourself and made your way back inside, standing slightly behind Tom admiring his frame. "Tom," you whispered and tapped his shoulder, he turned and cocked his head. "I need to," you took your card out, "pay." There was some conversation going on behind him, he smiled down at you putting your card back into your wallet. "Another day," he said softly and turned to the group. "We'll be on our way now, I have to get Alegría back home," he waved at Harrison. "Alegría, what's wrong?" Everett began to stand. "I'm just not feeling great, thank you all for such an amazing evening, enjoy the rest of your dinner," you waved at them and Everett sat back down. You followed Tom back outside and the man outside brought his car, Tom opened the door for you and you blushed as you stepped inside, biting your bottom lip nervously. You put your purse on your lap, looking at the street and how beautiful it looked in the light of signs and street lights. "I think we fooled them," Tom said as he got inside and began driving. "I think we did," you smiled, you felt at ease with Tom, it was the strangest sensation. The radio was playing, but it wasn't your top priority at the moment, thoughts of abuse were still present in your mind, but they weren't a priority either. "Where are we going?" you turned to face Tom, sitting comfortably with your knee slightly on the car seat as well. "Did you finish your dinner?" Tom glanced at you, his side profile was absolutely flawless. "Nope," you admired him, "did you?" He shook his head, "want to grab some McDonald's?" he replied. You couldn't help but laugh, this was weirdly romantic. "Let's grab some McDonald's," you smiled and faced the front again, you felt foolish for how helpless the curve of your lips were at the hands of his charisma.

"Two of the ten piece chicken nuggets please, and two iced mochas as well," he told the man at the register. You stood right behind him, your arm around his. The hilarity of how ridiculous you must look, so out of place with a formal beige dress and heels next to someone who could only be described as prince-like ordering chicken nuggets and a sugar-filled drink. It was almost comedic how careless the whole thing was. Your fingers danced along his arm, he opened his fist and you moved your hand down to entwine your fingers in his. You pressed your cheek against the back of his shoulder, thankful you weren't one to wear foundation, bronzer, highlighter, or concealer. You closed your eyes for a moment, you could feel his pulse, and you felt his every move as he had an exchange with the man at the register. "Let's go find a table," he spoke softly and you walked besides him, your hand still in his. "This works," you patted a table and let go of his hand to help him with the tray.

"How much of this do you think I could drink before I get a brain freeze?" you shook the iced mocha in your hand. "Half," he challenged. "Good guess," you took a deep inhale and began drinking from the straw without rest. You closed your eyes, smiling as you sucked, the newfound coolness sent shivers down your spine. You had to stop from a sharp pain overcoming your head, you laughed in pain as you showed your cup. "More than half" you smiled at Tom as he shook his head smiling. "That's impressive," he admitted putting the trash together. "You're not getting off that easy," you ran your index finger on his hand. "Drink up spider boy," you moved your head side to side in challenge. "Alright Ms. Happiness" he made motions with his shoulders and moved his head as if preparing for a big fight. You took your phone out and opened Snapchat, "do it, do it, do it!" You recorded as he made faces sucking on the straw, you were giggling more than you could remember ever giggling before. He stopped before halfway, "shit," he laughed holding his head. You saved the videos to your memories, smiling devilishly. "I won," you grinned. "Fair and square," he smiled as the pain on his face resided. "Where to now?" you put your cheek on your hand, looking at him. "We could hang in my trailer?" he smiled at you. "Sounds great," you smiled and stood taking the tray and throwing everything away. You didn't want to go home, you wanted to delay being alone again for as much as you could.

In the car you sang along to fetus One Direction, giving each other solos and giggling too much to finish a single sentence. You held hands a lot of the way, occasionally taking breaks so Tom could do a turn he didn't feel particularly confident in doing with his left hand. "Hey Tom?" you rubbed your thumb on his hand. "Yes Ale?" he parked the car outside of the studio, and he looked at you. "Thank you for such an awesome evening," you smiled and looked down at his hand. "Oh darling," he leaned over to hug you, you smiled and hid your face in his neck.

"Alright your confession now," Tom laid back, propping himself up with his elbow. "Give me a good question," you giggled, you had thrown your shoes to the side and you were sitting criss cross on the floor of his trailer. He opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off "I have a crush on you," you blurted out. You were blushing, but you figured it was time he knew. "Really?" he looked at you with his mouth agape, "that's so sweet Alegría." You swallowed hard, "your turn." You bit your lip embarrassed that you had admitted that to him. "Alright, I have a crush on you too," he looked up at you. "Explains dinner," you giggled to break the tension, he laughed, throwing his arm over his stomach. You sat in silence for a few moments, probably because you were both thinking about who would ask first, you hoped he would but you also didn't want it to be cliched. "Do you want to try to be more than friends?" you finally asked, your cheeks were burning, your fingers were shaking a bit. "I would love to be more than friends," Tom smiled, "but I'll do you one better than formality. Alegría-I don't know your middle name-Herrera, be my girlfriend?" he smiled sitting up, his fingers entwined in yours. "I, Alegría Luna Herrera would love to be your girlfriend Thomas Stanley Holland," you giggled childishly. "Your name is Happiness Moon, I love that," he leaned close to you, you swallowed hard, your eyes were focused on his. Your fingers slowly crept up his arm, and his lips pressed against yours. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of true serenity. His lips were soft, and his touch was gentle. He pulled away, and you smiled at him, your cheeks were hot. You looked away from him, you were shy in his presence, but also had never felt more at home before. "Your cheeks are red," he smiled, his hand went to your cheek, his thumb rubbed it gently. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, hiding your face.

"What the hell the vulture was Liz's dad the whole time?!" you sat up in confusion. Tom was giggling, running his fingers up and down your back. "I truly didn't believe you hadn't watched this movie before," he pulled you back down next to him. You looked at him, he was just so beautiful, he truly took your breath away. "Are you tired?" Tom rubbed his thumb on your cheek, you shook your head, "alright." You kept looking at him, then you directed your attention at the screen, you curled up smiling at Peter's reaction to being asked to smile for the camera. "You looked so genuinely confused," you held Tom's hand and looked up at him. "Maybe Michael truly was the vulture and I was genuinely confused, ever thought about that?" he laughed. You laid watching the movie, you would look over at him every once in a while, he always looked so peaceful.

Towards the end of the film Tom's phone buzzed. "Harrison," Tom typed something on his screen. "Is everything okay?" you scanned his expressions. "He's asking to come over," he looked over at you, "I don't want to lie to him." You smiled, "invite the boy over, we shouldn't tell him just yet though," you hoped Tom wouldn't take it the wrong way, but he gave you an understanding nod and he typed some more on his phone. You rest your head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, hearing his heartbeat.

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Restless Compromise

Characters: Alegría Herrera, Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield

Warnings: Police Abuse, Sexual Harrassment, Anxiety Attack, Mental Prison

Word Count: 3,177

A/N: This part was painful to write, but it is far from the worse I wrote

Part Three

You've been working for Marvel for a month now, running errands, calling people, ordering a variety of everything and anything, replying to email, you work has been going on non-stop. Your bank account is thriving, but your sleeping schedule leaves something to be desired. Everett has been nagging you about calling off one day, but you know you can't do that, you need to save us as much as you can for when you're actually in college. You get home at 3 A.M. some days, and are expected at work anywhere from 5-8 A.M., you also don't have a great eating pattern.

At 4:00 A.M. you're finally ready to go into work, you skip your morning coffee, apply a few shades of eyeshadow, and a layer of mascara, and you run out barely having enough time to grasp your purse and wallet.

The whole drive to work you're trying to focus on the lyrics of the song you couldn't even remember the name to, you're just trying to keep your eyes open and on the road. You roll your eyes and give a heavy sigh when angry honking makes you almost jump out of your seat, sending your hands into a shivering mess. Even in the rush you don't speed, you might actually be going too slow. A short police siren makes your ears ring, you pull over, you take a deep breath. Your hands are shaking, along with pretty much every other limb that could possibly shake. You lower your window, afraid to take any sudden movements, God knows Latinas don't have a great time with police officers. "M'am I'm going to need you to step out of the car," his hand is already on his gun, you nod unable to move. "Officer," you say almost too quietly, "you can see my hands right?" The officer huffs, knowing what you're referring to. "Get out of the car or I will arrest you for insubordination," he snaps at you. You feel tears dwelling in your eyes, your empty stomach urging to you lean over and rid yourself of whatever is actually in there. You open the door slowly, making sure your other hand is in the air, you move in slow predictable motions. "Get against the car," the officer stands much too close to you, you hold your breath as tears began streaming down your face, but you do as he says. "I am going to run an alcohol test, and I'm going to search your car," he placed his hand on your lower back, his leg was now pressing against your bum. You were praying under your breath, praying for him to touch you no further, praying for him to take his hand off the gun. You prayed that he would run his tests, that we would just run them and let you go.

You were an hour late to work, but you were safe, the rest of the drive it was completely silent. You were shaking, your cheeks were stained with mascara, your chin was wet with sweat and saliva, your mind was clouded enough that your drive was completely on instinct. You didn't know how you would explain being so late, specially when you were typically a punctual person. You tried to clean yourself up as much as you could, but a hard knock on your window threw what little composure you had gained out. You started shaking more than you ever remembered shaking before, you were crying, screams were building in your throat, they were choking you. Everett's voice was desperate against the window, but you didn't want to be held, you didn't want anyone around you. You sat in your anxious frenzy, your hands were on the wheel, shaking so hard your whole body mimicked them, tears were now dropping onto your jeans. After a while of almost screaming, Everett's presence disappeared, you chest was trying to catch up with your breaths, but there wasn't a way for that to happen. "One...t-two," you tried to count to seven, but with no luck, you pressed your forehead against the wheel, shutting your eyes as tight as you could. Then came the screams, the screams of loneliness and fear, fear because you felt yourself slipping farther and farther from sanity. The gropes and stares the police officer had offered you were embarked in your mind, you couldn't shake how hopeless you felt at the predisposed aim of his gun. You felt your breath normalize, your muscles ached from the never ending contractions your mind was ordering from them. You only did so much as to move when a gentle tap hit on your window, the British accent was coming right through the airwaves. You turned your key to turn off your car, stuffing your keys and phone into the big pocket of your purse, you opened the door and almost collapsed from how weak your legs had become from shaking for so long. You were still shaking, you were still crying, your breath was hitched, and your mind was a blur. You would've asked to go home, but you knew very well you couldn't drive. "Are you okay? Alegría, are you okay?" Harrison's voice was trying to break the barrier you had built between yourself and the people encircling you. You looked at him confused, confused as to why any of this seemed like you were the least bit okay. You could only shake your head to give them the signal that you were far from okay, you could read the expressions on their faces, some were worried, while others were giving each other fascinated looks as if this was the best show to watch. "Do we need medics?" someone from the back asked, you shook your head holding it with your right hand, it was a deafening pain that followed. "Yes please," Harrison ignored your disapproval. "We need to get you inside Alegría, can you tell me what happened?" again you shook your head, afraid of what talking about that man might bring into your life.

"What happened Alegría?" Harrison hadn't left your side, you were laying on the couch of what you figured was his trailer. You trusted him, you had built on that trust for the last month, but it didn't seem like enough to give away such a secret. You just shook your head, looking at the ceiling, your mind was slowly defogging. "You don't have to say anything, but we do need to have a reason as to why you were so late today," he explained to you, carefully. "Traffic," you lied, your hand rest on your stomach. "Traffic?" Harrison looked at you, dropping his posture for a quick second in defeat. "Alright, does this traffic have anything to do with why you got here having an anxiety attack?" his voice was stern, but it showed compassion that he probably was trying to hide. "Mr. Osterfield, I cannot tell you what happened," your eyes threatened to let tears loose, all you could do was blink so they'd go away. He looked at you, "Rest now," he nodded at you. There was a knock on the metal door, you jumped way too much. "Come in Tom," Harrison said in regard to the door, his eyes never left you. Tom's skinny frame appeared through the door, letting sunlight in. "Hey Haz, Alegría? What's wrong?" he moved towards you, you tried to control yourself from backing up. Now you were alone in a room with two men, this was a worst case scenario. "Tom, a word," Harrison stood, giving you a faint smile as he escorted Tom behind a door. You closed your eyes, hoping for relief, but you were met with vivid images of how far he tried to take it. Your next thoughts almost caused you to go over the edge, you thought about what could've happened had he not gotten a distress call. You covered your face with your hands, trying your best not to lose your breath again. "Alright," Tom's voice echoed into the room as the door reopened. "Ms. Alegría Herrera, would you be so kind as to going with us to the other side of the city?" Tom spoke slowly, as if he was speaking to a toddler, you figured it fit your facade at the moment. You sat up, pressing your lips together, you gave him a nod. "Do you need help?" Harrison moved closer to you, his hands holding your arm to help you stand. His touch was soft and gentle, unlike the grasp of the police man. You wanted there to be a difference between the men, you tried to focus your mind on the fact that not all men were like that pig. Tom's eyes were darting between you and Harrison, you didn't know how to make him feel as if it was fine, specially since it really wasn't. "I'm okay Mr. Holland," you forced a smile as you walked to the door, oxygen was flowing through your lungs like normal again.

You sat in the back of the car, trying to keep your fears set in the back of your mind. You noticed yourself dipping your head whenever you passed a police car, Harrison was paying attention to the road, but he also kept an eye on the mirror. "I was thinking we could call for a dinner?" Tom mentioned to Harrison casually. "Do you want to get everyone together?" Harrison responded, his eyes darting back and forth. "It'd be nice wouldn't it?" Tom looked back at you, "what do you say Alegría, would you join us for a personnel dinner?" He smiled. You gave it thought, you were very inclined to saying no, giving some excuse, but maybe what you really needed was a distraction. "I would love to," you gave him a sincere smile, you noticed how Harrison was now smiling too. How could a group of people you had not much in common with care so much about what your feelings were?

"Did he hurt you?" Tom was looking at your eyes, his fingers were rubbing on your arm comfortingly. You looked to the side, tears running down your cheeks. "Hey, Ale, look at me please," he spoke softly, and slow. You looked at him, his eyes were fixed on yours. "Did he hurt you?" he emphasized the word hurt. "He pressed me against the car, his hands were roaming my body. He searched my car, he had me handcuffed in the back of his. When he came back, after not finding anything, he said he needed to search me. His hands wandered everywhere, everywhere I didn't want him to touch me. He always kept one hand on his gun, he was threatening me," you wanted Tom to believe you, you couldn't really explain it, but you needed him to believe you. Tom closed his eyes, shaking his head, his jaw was showing more than usual. "I'm very sorry that happened to you, this isn't how anyone should be treated," he looked at you. "I understand why you asked me to drive you home, and why you don't want to drive back alone," he wasn't good at hiding how frustrated the situation made him. Maybe he understood that being a man shouldn't equal higher amounts of respect, simply because he is a man. "I should probably go get ready for the dinner," you rummaged through your purse to find your house keys. It was 5 P.M. and the dinner would be at 10:30 P.M., Tom had agreed on picking you up. "I'll be back to pick you up, don't worry about your car, we'll figure something out," his tone was reassuring. "Thank you Mr. Holland, I'm supposed to be tending your needs, this is so ridiculous," you smiled shaking your head. "How long until you call me Tom?" he smiled at you. "Alright, thank you Tom," you gave in, a knot grew in your stomach, but it wasn't discomfort, it was quite the opposite. He gave you a cheeky smile, "alright Ale, I'll be back at 9:00 to pick you up." The drive wasn't so long since the place you were going was in between where you lived and the studio. You opened the car door and hopped out, actually hopped since it was a lot taller than your car. You waved at him, and he drove away. Once you were inside you rest your back against the door, taking deep breaths. Someone picking you up definitely eased your mind, you didn't have to worry about abusive policemen.

You took a long bath, you sat in the tub in complete silence, your thoughts were being more intrusive than before, your mind was yelling insults at you. "It wasn't my fault," you repeated to yourself, over and over trying to make yourself truly believe it. You knew very deep down it wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault there were some men who took their positions and straight up abused the power that came with it.

You sat in front of your mirror, struggling to wave off every intrusive thought. You went a little darker with your make up, as you had already decided on what to wear. Your crease was a shimmery purple and black, your eyelid was smudged with peachy pink glitter. You applied a maroon color to your lips, blending it with a nude pink color in the middle. You took a look at yourself, you felt satisfied. You stood, you were only in your underwear, you slipped on the beige silk dress, it was backless, the fabric rest right above the small of your back, and the hem fell above your knees. You twisted your hair into a waterfall braid, and secured your rose gold thick heel high heels on your ankles. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt proud of yourself for not letting the incident hold you back from enjoying one of the vanities in your life. You got a small purse from the rack of clothes and made your way downstairs, you sat on the same chair you would usually have breakfast in. "I'm ready when you are," you typed under Tom's contact. It was 7:46, he'd be there soon. You got yourself a glass of water, inhaling deeply, and exhaling slowly. You had nerves, no one from the set had seen you so dressed up, and the make up wasn't helping much with that. You had seen Everett dressed up before, he lived for high fashion. You had also reviewed some of Tom's photoshoots, the only one you hadn't really seen dressed up was Harrison, you were sure he looked great.

The doorbell rang, you stood, placing the glass in the sink, you smoothed your dress and hurried over to the door. You blushed at the thought of his reaction, you were stalling too much. You opened the door and smiled, "Hi Mr. Holla- sorry, I mean Tom," you avoided his eyes. "Hi Alegría, you look great," he smiled sincerely. "Thank you, is it too much?" you said referring to the dress. "No you're completely fine," he shook his head, "shall we?" You giggled and got your purse from the dining table, you followed him out, locking your front door. He opened the door for you, you gave him a quick nod and sat in the passenger seat which was cool against your bare legs. He appeared on the other side, turning the key to start the car. "Would you like music?" he motioned towards the radio as he buckled himself in, you did the same. "I don't see why not," you smiled. He pressed the volume button and music elicited from the machine, you nodded your head a little in liking of the song. You rode in comfortable silence, except for the music that filled the awkward moments. You heard him mumbling the lyrics to a song, his accent almost made his words unintelligible, you smiled out the window. "You have a voice," you smiled, "a good one, to be more specific." He laughed quietly, his singing heightened in volume, only enough to make it understandable, you didn't know what took over but you sang along. What was two young adults sitting in silence before was now two young adults bobbing their heads to the many voicecracks and off tune singing coming from their mouths.

He opened the door for you, offering his hand, you took it without thinking. He walked you into the restaurant, you looked around, the whole place was dimly lit, it gave a beautiful vibe. There weren't many other people in tables, you looked at Tom, you smiled when he talked to the guy at the podium, he looked very stunning. After a few more moments of standing and having light conversation, Tom led you to the table you'd be joined by the rest of the group. He pulled your chair our for you, and you smiled sitting, he sat beside you. "It's a lovely place," you smiled looking around. "Yeah, we come here at least once when we film, it's like a tradition," he smiled looking at you, "by the way, my brothers are coming to visit really soon and I think you'll get along great with them." You looked at him, "It's Paddy, Sam, and Harry yeah?" you questioned. "Yeah my pesky bros, they're a handful, but they're absolutely great to have around" he leaned back on his chair. Over the past few weeks you had gotten really close to Tom, it was a weird type of bond you had, you had to admit you had a bit of a crush on him. "How's Yamalet?" he asked referring to your sister. "She's doing great, she's in the second trimester of her pregnancy," you explained, she was 10 years older than you, and still lived in Mexico. "I bet you miss her," he stated. "Sometimes, it's nice to be my own person though," you looked at your hands which were on your thighs. You and Yamalet had grown apart when you decided to move away, she said you were selfish for leaving your mama and papa behind, but you thought it was better for you to get out. "Do you miss your family Tom?" you looked up at him, admiring the way the dim light shone on the left side of his face. "Sometimes, I still talk to them though, pretty much everyday," he rest his elbows on the table. "That's really awesome," you nodded, playing with the pre-set cutlery. "Alegría can I-" he was cut off by Harrison's voice. "Tom! Alegría you're looking ravishing," he smiled at you as he sat next to you, leaving you in between the two. "Hi Mr. Osterfield, you don't look half bad yourself," you smiled. "Haz," Tom waved at his best friend. "Tom you were saying something?" You turned to look at him again, wanting to give him the attention. "Sorry? Oh right, nothing nothing," he smiled.

#peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter quill #natasha romanoff #black panther #black widow #hawkeye #tom holland fandom #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #marvel fandom #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Restless Compromise

Word Count: 3,112

Characters: Alegría Herrera, Everett Lakey, Tom Holland

Warnings: none

A/N: I have 24.6K words of this story, SOOOOO

Part Two

You set your alarm at 5:30 A.M. and at that time you woke up, you were glad you set your alarm so early since you hated getting up in the morning. You turned on music on your phone, hoping you'd be able to hear it from the kitchen. The coffee brewer gave off little exhales of vapor, filling your kitchen with the lovely smell of morning coffee. As it brewed, you took a shower, you closed your eyes as the warm water hit your face and cascaded down your body. You lathered on Dove soap on your shoulders, appreciating the blossom smell it left on your skin. Your hair was bubbly with Pantene Curl Perfection conditioner. After shutting off the water and wrapping the towel around your body, you poured coffee into a cup, and took it to your room. The time was 6:03 A.M., you'd do your makeup, choose an outfit. You got your Morphe 35W palette and mixed the orange with one of the light browns on your crease, cleaning your eyelid with your concealer to add a lighter shade in the middle, as well as some glitter. You squinted your eyes, took a deep inhale, and carefully drew a slightly diagonal line from the outer corner of your eye moving away from your eye. You examined the line, exhaled and drew another line connecting at the end of the previous line, this time moving towards your eye again. You filled in the spaces with black liquid, and continued to fix and tweak your first wing. When you finished, you let out a heavy sigh, making the other wing match was near impossible. You held your breath while you drew a line from the outer corner towards your eyebrow, you looked at both of your eyes, close enough. You repeated the cycle from earlier, your left eye always looked slightly off as it was just smaller and more hooded than your right eye. After the tedious process of drawing on your winged eyeliner, you curled your lashes and applied a very thin layer of Elf 3-in-1 mascara. You dabbed a little bit of a tan glimmery shade on your inner corners and smiled at your reflection. Your makeup looked presentable at least. You took a swig of coffee, savoring the bitter milkiness of it all. You looked at the half-full cup tentatively, “why not?” You grinned and chugged what was left. Little misbehaviours made your life a little sweeter. You repeated your little dressing ritual, staring into the mortal eyes of your clothes to decide what was appropriate. "Hey Everett, this is Alegría Herrera. Is there a dress code I'm supposed to follow?" you hit send, crossing your fingers that he would reply soon. You picked out some outfits that included black jeans ripped at the knee with an yellow off the shoulder shirt, a high waisted denim shirt with a flowy pink shirt, and a pair of mom jeans and a large blue shirt that would go tucked in. "No dress code, but maybe save the swimsuit for a beach outing," he replied. You smiled a little, "oh that sucks! I couldn't wait any longer to wear my bright pink bikini!!!!" you hit send and threw your phone on the bed. You settled with the black jeans and yellow shirt combo, you'd put on some trendy pink high heels. You checked the time, 6: 36 A.M., you figured you better be on your way. In the car you listened to the first Shawn Mendes album, Handwritten, mouthing the words to every single song that came on. Your fingers gripped onto the steering wheel, while your index finger tapped to the beat. You kept an eye on the clock, it'd be a real red flag if you were late on your first day. You parked in the same spot you had the day before, you sat in your car, taking short but deep inhales to calm your nerves. You checked your makeup and hair in the rearview mirror, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You were a few minutes early, so you took the time you had to refresh emails in case of any incoming inboxes. You jumped when two taps made a clink noise on the window beside your face. Everett was waving with a big innocent smile plastered on his tanned face, you gave him a furrow-browed look and then returned the smile as you stuffed your phone into your bag along with your car keys. He opened the door for you and sneered at you, you assumed for your reaction to a tiny tap. "Very funny Everett, very funny," you held back from sticking your tongue at him, thinking it was too soon to open with such infantile behaviors. "Where's the bright pink bikini I was promised?" he joked and walked beside you. "Out of luck, put it in the wash and it turned blue," you joked back. It was almost ridiculous how this random 21 year old was quickly turning into your best friend. "Are you ready for a day of fun Herrera?" he led you into the building. "Absolutely, I'm actually very excited for my first day," you smiled, hiding small amounts of panic. "You will be tending Tom for the first part of the day, he'll be here in about an hour or so. Before he gets here though," he wiggled his brows suggestively, eliciting a giggle from you. He handed you a binder, it wasn't huge like your old Chemistry binder, but it also wasn't a small folder. You paged through it, taking in all the numbers, letters, @ symbols, and more. "I'm guessing this is going to be my saving grace?" your eyes dashed up to meet his face. "Pretty much a Bible," he nodded. "Is there anything I need to know about Mr. Holland? Should I be open to conversation, should I be a little more reserved?" you analyzed Everett's expressions for hints. "He's a pretty okay dude, he'll open polite conversation, and he'll respect your work. I haven't actually worked with him before, but I have heard from others that have. You'll be in good hands," he explained, his words calmed your nerves a bit. "That's great, I mean, really great," you bit your bottom lip in relief as you paged through the binder. Everett's phone beeped, and he huffed reading whatever notification he had gotten. "I need to be on my way now, we'll catch up later though," he smiled and walked out of the building. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, you grew intensely self aware. You remained standing, aware of how awkward you must look in your focused stance. You balanced the binder on your right arm while paging with your left hand, trying to remember some of the basics at least. After a few more awkward moments, you took a look around and sat on a stiff white couch, crossing your right leg over your left. You straightened your back as you read over page one, adding every number, email, and reminder that was suggested to your phone. There was no specific instructions that followed a schedule, except for when to get there, there was no clocking out time either. Everyday would be something new, as everybody does different things every single day, that made sense. You snuck into a deserted office and took a highlighter, then you sat back on the couch. You highlighted important dates, emergency phone numbers, and names of people you had to remember. You must've lost track of time because you jumped and gasped when you heard someone call out for you. "So sorry!" you apologized as you raced to close then binder and stand up. "It's okay Alegría," Tom Holland's smiling face met your gaze. "I should've kept an eye out on the time, Everett said you'd be here soon. What can I help you with Mr. Holland?" you held yourself back from hitting yourself on the head from how borderline pathetic you sounded. "Tom, please. First off I'd like to thank you for taking on this job, I'll try to make it as not tedious as I can," his accent shone through the most in a few words, but you tried not to pay much attention to it. "Mr. Holland, my job is to do everything and anything you ask me to, I'm very excited to be working for you," you smiled politely, your fingers fidgeting with the cover of the binder. "That's great, but please call me Tom," his lips formed into a tiny pout, and you offered a genuine smile, dipping your head a little. "I can't make any promises Mr. Holland, I'm here to work for you," you gave him a small nod, "we should get started, yeah?" He gave you an understanding nod, "first we have to go and run my schedule with Harrison- have you met Haz?" the name sounded familiar, but you shook your head. "I'll introduce you to him, he's my best friend," he motioned his hand in the direction you were meant to start moving in. There was another outside area you didn't even know about, even after the lengthy tour you had taken the day before. There were trailers clustered everywhere, this was probably what Everett meant when he said he'd try to get you a trailer, it did seem more convenient. "That's my trailer over there, that's Hemsworth's, and that's Pratt's, Harrison's usually in my trailer," you followed his lead, trying to take in all the information he was so excitedly blabbering out. He opened the door, taking you by surprise since he didn't knock, but you remembered it was his trailer after all. "Come on in," he smiled holding the door open for you. "I'll wait out here," you declined, hoping not to seem too standoffish, but it did make you particularly nervous to go into the trailer with a guy you had just met yesterday. There was nothing about him that gave off a dangerous vibe, but you figured it'd be better if you just waited. "Sure," he looked at your eyes for a speed second before disappearing behind the metal door of the enclosure. You took a long around, it was still early, 9:15 to be exact, so the morning chirping of birds filled the air accompanied with the angry honks of cars in the distance. You shifted your weight from your heels to your toes in an anxious pattern, waiting patiently for Tom and his best friend to come out of the trailer. Maybe 3 minutes later the door flung open, and you prepared your best courteous smile for the new faces. "This is Harrison Osterfield, we just call him Haz, or at least I do," Tom motioned for the slightly blonder boy to come forward. They were both nowhere near not cute, but this was a professional setting, you had to keep yourself in line. "I'm Harrison, otherwise known as Haz or to some James," he smiled at you, two lines forming by his mouth. "Alegría Herrera," you extended your hand, a blush forming on your cheeks, you felt embarrassed at how brief you were. He shook your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. His eyes were a pale blue, Tom's were a soft brown. You took your hand away, not wanting it to linger for too long. "It's really nice to meet you Mr. Osterfield," you smiled courteously. Harrison and Tom exchanged a quick look, Tom smiled giggling a bit, he looked to the side. "Tom said you were formal, and a bit stubborn," Harrison explained. You felt embarrassed, and felt the need to be defensive. "I'm so sorry," you blushed, "I don't mean to be rude at all, or stubborn. I'm really just not accustomed to treating high position persons with anything other than the utmost respect," you cringed evidently at how pathetic your excuse was. "You're completely fine," Tom smiled empathetically, "it's quite funny, no one talks to us that way though." You gave him a quick nod, shuffling your right foot behind your left, keeping yourself balanced. "How old are you?" Harrison beamed, trying to make light conversation. "I'm 18, I'm starting college in August," you hoped that answer would suffice to break your formality. "You look younger," Tom replied, "only maybe a year. I'm 22, and Harrison is 21." You took a mental note of that information. "I have always been told I look younger, which is fine, I do think I look about 5 years old," you said since you always joked with your friends back home that you looked like a kindergartener. Both Harrison and Tom laughed at the joke you had forgotten was funny, you smiled looking at the ground. "So I heard a rumour, that I get to have you help me the whole day, can you confirm?" Tom asked you. "I believe that's true," you nodded at him, "should we get started with work?" Tom and Harrison exchanged another look. "Today it's mostly orientation, so I tell you what it will be like working with me, and you will tell me what it will be like working with you," he explained, his voice didn't have any edge to it. "Sounds good," you smiled at both of them. "And I will trudge around because I'm Harrison, and there is no one like me," Harrison grinned. Your phone vibrated, "sorry," you apologized and checked over the message you had received. "What time is your lunch break?" Everett was the one who had texted you. "Mr. Holland, do you know when lunch break is?" You looked up from your phone. "12:30," he replied. "12:30, why?" You replied and shut your phone off. "Should we begin orientation then?" you looked at the two young men standing in front of you. "Let's go," Harrison began walking, Tom sneered at him. "It's this way you idiot," he motioned straight ahead, you began walking, suppressing a laugh.

"So you aren't actually from the United States?" Tom questioned, his chin finding its place on his palm. "I'm glad my accent had you fooled," you smiled, hoping your real accent wouldn't shine through too much. "Mexico, that's a long way from here," Harrison broke into the conversation, "do you miss it?" You took a second to answer, "sometimes, well most of the time yes. Everything's different here, especially the people. I'm sure you see it too, being from the UK and all," you smiled at the ground. "Yeah, the people are more open to conversation on the street for sure, but I know what you mean about missing home," Tom nodded. "What do you miss the most?" Harrison was focused on knowing your story. "I think I miss my old life, not that I'm not grateful of everything I have now, but I guess I miss not doing things because of having to represent an entire group of people in the best way possible," you laughed a little to try to make the conversation lighter. Harrison and Tom walked in silence for a few minutes, you swallowed hard hating the fact that you might've made them uncomfortable with your deep response. "Is it hard?" Tom broke the silence. "What?" you glanced at him, he was looking straight ahead. "Having that much responsibility to carry since you were a child?" he stopped to look at you, you inhaled heavily. "I guess a little, but it's not anything I couldn't handle," you assured. "But, it's not really something everyone has to think about, do you ever think about that?" the brown eyed boy chimed. "I do, a lot, and I think about how different that would be. I don't know how much better it would be, since I've become so accustomed to it now, but I do think it would be very different," you looked at Tom's eyes, it was evening now and his eyes shimmered gold from the lighting, he could probably see gold in yours as well. "You think of it as a positive thing in your life?" Harrison looked at you, his brows were furrowed slightly. "I do, at least a mostly positive thing, it's shaped me into who I am today," you looked at your hands. "That's pretty fucking cool," Tom grinned at you. It made the moment feel less serious, you exchanged giggles.

"An hour and fifteen?" Harrison glared in disbelief, "why so far?" You smiled as you unlocked your car, feeling a little panicked that it was late. "It makes rent bearable," you shrugged, "it's not that bad of a drive." Tom stole your keys, "why don't you stay in my trailer for the night? It's so late now," his eyes showed no malice. "Mr. Holland, really, it's not a big deal," you tried to make the knot in your stomach disappear. "I'll crash at Harrison's trailer for the night, you'll have your space Alegría," he tilted his head to the side in a way that was so irresistible. "I can't take your offer, but really, thank you. You opened the door to your car, "keys please?" You put your hand up. He threw them at you, aiming for your hand. "Alright Ms. Herrera," Tom mocked, "we'll see you tomorrow?" he rest against your car. "Sure thing Mr. Thomas Holland," you smiled as you turned your key. "Have a safe drive," he stuck his head in, speaking softly. "Wouldn't do it any other way," you smiled and he closed the door, leaving you in the roaring silence of your car. It had been a good day, long and singular, but a very good day.

The drive back home was long, you were on edge the whole time, afraid of being pulled over at this time of night. Police don't have the best reputation around here. You were relieved when you got home, you took a long warm shower, replaying everything that happened in your mind. You had a lot to write in the binder, notes, more names, as well as write down Harrison's number in your phone to have him on speed dial. They were both sweet guys, they made you feel like you fit right in, even if you kind of didn't based on career, age, and even ethnicity. They weren't going to make your job hard for you, which was for sure something you could appreciate. "Goodnight Mr. Osterfield, thank you for the wonderful afternoon. Make sure to get sufficient sleep and a filling breakfast," you sent the message. You lingered over Tom's contact, but you decided it might be for the best if you just sent a message when you awoke

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Coco (2017) dir. Lee Unkrich

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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💙💙💙 "I get a little bit nervous, around you" Nervous music video out now!! 💙💙💙

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes nervous #shawn peter raul mendes #mendes army #shawn mendes music #shawn mendes fans #nervous #particular taste #perfectly wrong #fallin' all in you #queen #shawn mendes the album #illuminate #Handwritten #nervous music video

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Restless Compromise

Word Count: 2,628

Characters: Alegría Herrera, Everett Lakey, Tom Holland

Warnings: None

Part One

You had been applying for jobs, anything you could find that you qualified for, you applied for it. You were 18, and had moved to Los Angeles for college, but it was the summer and they didn't offer summer courses you could waste your time on. It had only been a week since you situated in a small apartment, you didn't actually live in L.A. you moved 45 minutes outside of it, rent was somewhat manageable then. You were hoping for a Media major, as you loved cameras and screenwriting, but absolutely hated being in front of the camera as well as being told what to do. You had gotten a few emails back, but nothing that peaked your interest, you weren't about to be picky when it came to jobs, but it would be nice to not hate everyday for the next two months.

You checked your emails, opening incoming inboxes, as well as replying with gratitude to those that were offering information regarding pay as well as scheduling. A few nights ago during your late coffee hours, you had come across an assistant job at a movie set, and had excitedly filed an application. You had gotten the confirmation email that said they had received it, which was good, and now you waited for a decline, or maybe even the green light. Working on a set would be the perfect experience you needed for the next four plus years of your life.

You were in bed, but then again it was only 7 A.M. you pushed the blankets towards the edge of the bed with your fuzzy sock-covered feet and crawled out of bed. You bent forward to put your hair into a loose high pony, you stood straight and pulled your pajama shorts up to cover your belly button. You were a bit of a coffee addict, as well as buttered toast, that was the perfect breakfast. Interchangeable with a bowl of fluffy whipped yogurt and fruit. You got on your computer, your leg pressed against your chest as well as the dining table. You pressed your cheek against your hand, scrolling through your emails again. You re-read your entries, hoping you had caught every error, and cringing when you noticed new ones. You deleted old and no longer important emails from your high school days, reminiscing occasionally at the memories of that stage of your life.

After breakfast and some more re-reading, catching up on the news, and washing dishes, you made your way back to your bedroom and made your bed. You put on the jeans that were hanging on your chair and a college shirt, tucking in the shirt into the jeans and puffing it out gently. Maybe you'd go to the mall and look for something that would be considered appropriate in whatever field you ended up working at. Makeup was a guilty pleasure you indulged in, taking hours in front of the mirror was a vanity you loved to allow yourself to have. It depended on the occasion, but the orange shade from the Morphe 35W was something that always found its way to your eyelids. Your eyebrows were always filled in with Kokie eyebrow gel, and carved with concealer. You weren't one to hold back with the makeup, it was something you were weirdly proud of. One thing you for sure never used was foundation, mostly because it was never easy to find a match to your skin color, as well as it just felt extra.

You used a small backpack-like purse to carry your most important belongings with you, those included: a small notebook you never wrote in, approximately three Burt's Bees Chapsticks, two lipsticks, a pen, sanitary pads, your phone, your keys, and your wallet. Once you were in your car, you plugged your phone into the Aux chord and played your "Everything" playlist, it had songs from all of your favorite artists. Music was always a must, it cured everything, but also placed new wounds with saddened lyrics occasionally.

The mall was crowded, it was summer after all, everyone was scouting for the next big thing of the season. You checked your emails again as you approached the food court, the variety of smells made your stomach grumble. You went for some Chinese food, it had been a while since you had it. You sat with your food, scrolling through your phone, refreshing your email hoping for something interesting to come up. The food was good, it was different from how it tasted at the mall back home for sure. Your phone started vibrating when you threw away the styrofoam box in the black metal trash can, you took a deep breath, you hated answering the phone. "Hello, this is Alegría Herrera speaking," you secured your bag around your shoulders, and began walking through the long corridors outside of the stores. "Good afternoon Ms. Herrera, we would like to schedule an interview based on your application for the job of assistant. Is there a day that would be convenient?" the voice of a man echoed through the phone. "Any day would work, including today, at any time," you assured, your stomach was setting butterflies loose. "Is today at 5 P.M. work?" you hadn't expected it to be so soon. "Perfect, I'll be there," you had to hold back a smile. "The address and further information will be sent in an email, until our meeting Ms. Herrera," the call ended and you refreshed your email to take a screenshot of the address that was listed under "Subject: Assistant Position Information." It was only 12:36 P.M. which gave you more than enough time to journey on through the mall, go home, shower, reapply your makeup, and maybe even have some time left over to panic over what the hell you would even say during the interview.

Walking around the mall always made you feel a special type of self conscious, the type where it's not really about the way you look but something no one really noticed like the way your lips rest while you peaked into stores, or even where your eyes were drawn to while walking next to complete strangers. You always caught yourself not looking at anyone in the eye, and trying not to smile but also not to frown, which resulted in an awkward line with bumps to form in place of your lips.

You headed to a Starbucks, maybe coffee would help you decide what store to actually venture in. "Can I have an Iced Vanilla Latte please?" you asked politely and handed the money to the probably underpaid high schooler that was tending the cash register. "Name please," he smiled, he probably appreciated that someone was being any level of polite to him at all. "Alegría," you smiled back, you always felt a knot in your stomach when anyone acted soft towards you. You looked over your emails again as you waited for your coffee, setting an alarm for 2:15 since you figured that was the latest you could leave to have enough time to be ready for the interview. "Iced Vanilla Latte for Alegría," another employee handed you the cup. "Thank you," you smiled and walked away sipping it. Coffee tasted like heaven. You figured maybe you'd go ahead and go home, there wasn't much you actually wanted to look at. You almost smiled when you realized you had drove to the mall to eat and quench your coffee addiction.

The drive home went pretty fast, the voice of Khalid filled your car and the empty silence that would have taken its place had you not loved music so much. There wasn't much traffic where you lived, but you knew in the L.A. area there was never an insufficiency of angry honking and traffic jams. Once you were home, the now half empty cup of Starbucks found its way to your dining table, and your clothes were soon on the cold floor of your bathroom. The perfect temperature for showering was with the water handle slightly in preference to the warm water, not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. You shaved your legs, lathering on soap prior to running the razor up your legs. When you shut the water off, it was a race against time to wrap the blanket around yourself to battle with the cold air that now entered the space. You towel dried your hair thinking of what you would wear, but knowing that was something you'd most likely procrastinate prioritizing. You wore what you had worn to bed the night before, and sat in front of your mirror to do your makeup. You decided no bright colors, but the orange would be subtly used on your crease. You applied your lipstick to Young, Dumb, and Broke by Khalid, which made you take extremely unnecessary pauses in between strokes.

You stood in front of the rack that held your clothes for maybe 30 seconds before picking black high waisted jeans and a white long sleeve light shirt. You held a bobby pin in your mouth while you put your hair into a high bun, securing the loose strands with it. You pulled out two pieces of hair to frame your face. "I really need a concealer that isn't three shades lighter than me," you said to yourself while dabbing your finger above your eyebrows.

You went over what you would say to the interviewer, speaking as you drove. There were questions you had been asked before, you rehearsed your answer, catching any fillers or words you used too much and changed them. You felt nervous, but not enough to make you mess up what you wanted to say. You had the GPS on to make sure you knew where you were going, and you were half an hour early.

"Hi, I'm a representative of a few actors that you'd be working for," a young woman shook your hand and led you to a comfortable office. "I'm Alegría Herrera," you followed her and sat on the chair that was in front of the desk. "I'm going to ask you a few questions then we'll do a chemistry check with some of the interested parties," she smiled. "That sounds great, I have the hard copy of my resume if you'd like it," you took out a large envelope and handed it to her. "Should we get started Ms. Herrera?" she smiled taking the envelope and setting it beside her. "Sure," you smiled politely and gave a brief nod. "You are 18 years old, and are going to be starting college in a few months, why would you be interested in an assistant job over the summer?" You rest your hands on your thigh, gripping your jeans a little. "I want to go into media, and I really think working around a movie set would be the perfect experience going into my first semester," you explained. "As an assistant, you would be working long hours, you would have to be surrounded by people all day long, is this something that would be in any way an inconvenience?" she looked at you as if she was analyzing your microexpressions. "I am used to working on my own, and I enjoy working independently, but when it comes to it I welcome new environments, as well as new people. Working with many people isn't something that I would consider an inconvenience to my work, if anything it would be great to be around many people to get the true feel of the job," you assured, your hands were sweating. She smiled politely, stood, and walked to the door. "I will be back in just a moment, make yourself comfortable Ms. Herrera," she opened the door and she left the room. "I don't know if that went as well as I was hoping," you whispered to yourself, wiping your hands on your jeans. Your fingers tapped on the dark wooden desk, your feet shuffled nervously. You checked your phone, refreshing your emails. You put it away, inhaled deeply, took it out again, refreshed, exhaled. You took a good look around, trying to familiarize yourself with the room, as well as trying to make the kaleidoscope buzzing in your stomach go away.

The door opened a bit abruptly and you stood to see the same woman face to face. "You will meet with some of the interested parties now," she smiled and placed a hand on your lower back, her other hand directing you out the door. You made your way out, and waited besides the door frame, following close behind as she walked a few steps in front of you. You both stopped in front of a white wooden door, she knocked a couple of times, you took a small inhale to prepare. The door opened not much after, and a young male walked out, you shook his hand. "This is Mr. Thomas Holland, you will be working for him," she smiled at you. "Nice to meet you Mr. Holland," you gave him a nod, trying not to let your excitement over the word 'will' be too noticeable in your expression. "Please, just call me Tom," his accent took you by surprise. You gave him a polite smile, knowing that wasn't something you could promise. "We'll be on our way now," the woman motioned at you. "It was really nice meeting you Mr. Holland," you smiled and extended your hand. "It was nice meeting you too er- sorry what's your name?" he shook your hand. "Alegría Herrera," you took your hand back and began walking with the interviewer. You heard the door to the room close not long after. "We will be meeting Mr. Osterfield who works for Mr. Holland as well, as well as some more of the cast," she guided you through the building, meeting many people along the way.

"You live 45 minutes away?" you had been left under the care of a man who was closer to your age, his name was Everett Lakey. "I technically live an hour and a fifteen, since I live 45 minutes outside of L.A." you grinned. "And you're going to be driving an hour and fifteen minutes to work every single morning, and another hour and fifteen minutes back home every single night?" he led you to a table in the lunch area. "It's not that bad," you waved him off as you sat on one of the cold white metal chairs. "I'll talk to some people and try to get you a trailer or something so you don't have to do that every day," he spoke softly. "Thank you Everett, but really, I'm fine," you smiled at him. "I'm still going to do it Alegría," he mocked jokingly. He gave you a little background of what the movie was, you had seen a few Marvel movies before, and you recognized some of the cast very easily. "Are there any strict rules?" you rest your cheek on your hand. "Not quite, just do your work and you're okay," he smiled comfortingly.

Everett walked you to your car, chatting about his job and giving you a few helpful tips for yours. "I will see you tomorrow at 8:00 A.M. here okay?" he smiled and opened the car door for you. "8:00 A.M. got it," you nodded and went inside, closing the door and waving at him through the window. You plugged your phone into the Aux chord and began driving home. You had a job, that was all you needed to know. Now you had to write thank you emails to all the other places you had applied to, as well as declining emails. On your way home you stopped by Chipotle and got a burrito bowl with cilantro-lime brown rice, black beans, and queso. The whole drive you had to physically stop yourself from eating it, knowing you'd regret not eating it with a glass of sparkling water on the side. That was a true celebration dinner, at least for a lonely 18 year old girl.

"Thank you for your consideration, I am deeply thankful for the time you've taken to write back to me. I am taking on a new journey, my apologies for any inconveniences.

Thank you,

Alegría Herrera"

You sent the email to every employer you had sent an application to, and set your phone on your bedside drawer to charge. You leg your hair down, it was now a funny loop because of the bun. You took your clothes off, tossing them into the laundry basket. You changed into your pajama shorts and grey shirt, tying your hair back into a low ponytail. You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, registering everything that had happened. You had a job, you met a possible new friend, it was a well paying job, and you were making no progress in your coffee addiction. It was much more than you could ask for.

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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They're the reason. The reason he gets up in the morning, the reason he comes home late. The reason he does well in school, and the reason why he misses school.

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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💜 P a s s i o n 💜

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes the album #shawn mendes illuminate #Shawn Mendes carpool karaoke #shawn mendes handwritten #in my blood #lost in japan #mendes army #Mendes

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saturnphasing-blog · 7 years ago

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Response to a School Shooting

A/N: I thought about not posting this one, it's cruel, and horrible, but it raises awareness. It's not just a thoughtless AU about the lovable Peter Parker, this is real life, this actually happens. Many people don't really understand the trauma behind school shootings, so I wrote this in a moment of vulnerability last night. I hope that this opens eyes to what many children, teens, and adults are trying to bring light to. I hope this helps someone, even if only one person, understand what the protests are about. This was the only way I could bring my thoughts to words, and maybe it is the only way someone can understand the situation. It was heartbreaking to write, but I genuinely feel it might help someone. Whether that's to cope, whether that's to get their anger out through writing, or maybe even to join the movement our young people have started. This doesn't touch on the political side of things, and I don't believe it is a bipartisan issue either, but that's beyond the point. I can't tell you to enjoy this, because this isn't something someone should enjoy. I do hope this opens your eyes, whether you're a student in the U.S. yourself, or someone from a country that doesn't have these sort of problems.

Word Count: 1,111

Warnings: School Shooting, screaming, anxiety, vulnerability, blood

Characters: Peter Parker, teachers, Aunt May, students

A/N #2: I'm so sorry this actually happens, it goes beyond fiction.

Screams and paranoia rang in his ears. His thoughts were all over the place, his feet were carrying him as fast as they could to the nearest bathroom. His hands were shaking harshly, he felt as if he was about to explode from how little he understood how this could be happening in his school. He'd seen the news, he knew it was beyond possible. Everyone had become so desensitized from how often dead kids' name were plastered on every news broadcasting station, but now there was no running away from it. This was happening, people were screaming, running feet scattering to get to safety. Alarms went off slowly, then all at once blurring his sight further. His limbs squeezed into the suit by instinct, he truly wasn't receiving any of the desperate signals his bran was sending to the rest of his body, his heart was barely responsive itself. "Run, run, run!" was all he could get his mind to focus on, as the blood boiling steps from the attacker drew closer in the halls, rounds were being emptied like in a game of laser tag. This was no game though, kids were dying, in the very hallways of his school.

He retraced his actions from that morning, trying to remember if he even told his aunt he loved her. Maybe he had been too worked up about the second shift she had taken the night before, marking her arrival at 4 A.M. while he waited impatiently and worriedly in the living room of their apartment. He had paced, worried she was in any levels of danger. The news had been blasting through the tiny radio he kept. She was probably returning the favor now, as news of the situation broke out, filling fellow students' brains with white noise. He had lost track of his cellphone in the middle of the students that ran for their lives, as many collapsed painfully. The looks of sheer terror plastered on every single face he was affronted by was something he would never forget, these were the same people he had sat countless assemblies with, the same people he had taken Physics with, the same people who he observed during lunch, the same people who had their own quirks, the same people who were looking forward to the day they'd graduate, the same people he had rolled his eyes to when they made out in relative distance of his locker. He had been in difficult positions, but now he knew there would be funerals breaking out all over. People were already grieving losing their best friends, their teacher. He couldn't get himself to get up from the place he was guarding himself behind one of the stalls he had visited so often to take a break from Ms. Kerson's never ending Math lectures. Those hallways where his classmates, some from before he could remember, lay bleeding and crying, they would never be the same again. He hugged his knees as steps came closer, his cheeks were soaked with tears he couldn't hold back. He was terrified, he was in pain, his heart ached so deeply. How could this happen in his school?

He took silent deep breaths, securing the mask on his face. He stood, his morale in shreds. He left the bathroom, his chest feeling heavier with every step he took. The floors were stained a horrific color red, the hallways were silent. He walked slowly, stopping at every person, feeling for a pulse, and pulling them into empty classrooms. He had to hold back his choked cries as he barricaded doors and consoled the hurt. He followed the deafening noise of gunshots, his lip was quivering with pure sorrow.

"Stop killing my friends!" was the only thing he could think to say when he came face to face with the perpetrator, tears were making the mask stick to his face. "Aren't you at all bothered by what you're doing? B-by what you're taking?!" his voice broke, his hands shaking so much he couldn't get them to shoot webs. "You're taking life! Life from people who did nothing to you! They didn't deserve this, why are you doing this?" his tone revealed his heartbreak. The shooter, a kid from his English class, turned the gun on him. He held his breath, his stomach turned, he gather enough fury to engulf the familiar kid in webs and to kick away the terrible machine that had allowed for this to happen. He fell to his knees, screaming at the top of his lungs with every ounce of pain he felt. His eyes closed tightly, tears were suffocating him. His gloved hands were covered in the blood of classmates, his mind was screaming at him.

He could hear heavy steps scurry in the halls, followed by the voices of the SWAT squadron yelling at everyone to put their hands up and to run out of the school. He didn't know how many survived, how many people didn't. He ran to another bathroom, that's where he found his Chemistry teacher, a wound on his right shoulder was soaking his teal shirt with red. He pressed on the wound in hopes to contain the bleeding. "Sp-spid-" his teacher was choking up. "Sir don't speak, just focus on staying awake, please," tears were streaming down Peter's face. "Help! We're in here!" he screamed when he heard the SWAT team coming closer. He placed his teacher's hands on his shoulder carefully, "keep applying pressure sir." He ran out, his stomach begging to empty its contents.

"Peter," his aunt held him tighter than she ever had before. He didn't hold back, crying into her shoulder, his arms tightly wrapped around her. "It's okay sweetie, I'm here, you're safe," she was crying too. He didn't care that he was safe, he cared that so many weren't. So many kids, some from classes he'd shared, had been taken off in ambulances, some in body bags. He felt responsible, his school was the one that had the best chance of getting out of a school shooting unharmed. He was Spiderman, and he couldn't keep his school mates safe from the gunfire. "M-May how many?" he whispered, gripping onto her harder, never having been so afraid of a number. "Don't think about that right now," she held him close, her heart felt empty. "Please May, please," he begged her, he had to know how many people were gone. "14," she said very silently. "N-no," his throat closed and he cried harder. This couldn't be happening. They had so much left to live for. So much. Why was this happening? Why didn't he save them?

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #marvel #spiderman #spiderman fic

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