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#the stores they want to start me with are based out of Arizona
winemom-culture · 2 years
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Um so???
I found out I’m getting promoted to a project manager lol
I was totally blindsided in a good way, I think this is something I wanted to happen eventually as far as my career path goes but didn’t think the opportunity would come so soon (I mean I haven’t even been here a year yet this month is 8 months?)
My boss-boss had my own project manager let me know as kinda like the middle man so I have to go to big boss today before I leave and talk specifics and I’m so nervous even tho they fully approached me wanting to give me this lol ahhhh
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
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mamirhodessxox · 7 months
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Hey There Delilah (Part 3)
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Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Reader
(Delilah Jones)
Storyline: Delilah was born and raised by the beach in L.A and grew up in a home where her parents expected her to go to Harvard & become a well known woman who marry’s a man who is a lawyer after high school. But that’s not what she wanted, She always wanted to own a boutique/flower shop & she did, once her parents discovered she wouldn’t attend college they left her to fend for herself but allowed her little sister Kinsley to visit or sleep over whenever, Her little sister always had an eye for WWE but Delilah never understood why but little did either of them know one of Delilah’s customers would become well acquainted. (Creds to @alyyaanna for helping me w the storyline)
Contents: Toxic parents, Angst, Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Based in May 2023, Alcohol, Violence, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, ETC.
{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}
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So far the summer had been going well, Cody introduced the sisters to his well known backstage friends like Jey, Roman, Rhea, Randy & Seth, They would all often come by the store on their own times or all as a group to visit the girls whenever they had time. Rhea was super close with Delilah and even discussed with Cody that she was to kind for her own good especially when it came to mean people.
Today was a very special day because He was leaving tomorrow to spend the week of summer slam in Arizona so he wanted to have a little Cody & Delilah day together, yesterday he spend the day at a water park with her little sister & now it was time for his attention to be with Delilah, He had Rhea & Jey watch over Kinsley for the day while he was with Lilah, she was so over the moon & excited! The held onto his hand giggling about her excitement while they drove around Santa Monica together, & then Cody parked somewhere “C’mon sweetheart let’s switch your gonna learn how to drive.”
Her face dropped a little “Cody I dunno how to drive” he nodded and got out waiting for her to leave the passengers side “I know baby, That’s why i’m teaching you.” She nodded nervously and got out switching over to the drivers side while he had her start off slow, he followed the car for a bit while she would accidentally slam on the breaks “Baby your not even anywhere near something to be breaking yet just keep going.” She nodded & started driving but she ended up speeding up “Wai- Slow down ba- okay..” he stood with his hands on his hips while she breaked but bumped into a light pole just a smidgen.
“How about I just keep driving, How’s that sound angel?” She smiled and threw a thumbs up out the window & got up scampering back over to the passengers side, in which he did take over, They went to go get ice cream but she insisted they shared whatever in his choice since she felt bad he was trying to pay for her cone. They walked around & took turns finishing the sweet treat before he cleared his throat “If there’s an emergency you know who too call right? Seth & Jey are gonna be here instead of summer slam so if anything were to happen you call them & then you call me alright?”
She frowned nodding her head before tearing up a little bit which made him stop “Oh princess I promise it won’t be that long, I’ll be back faster than you know it.” She pouted and flopped her hair on his arm “Cody I don’t want you to go I’ll be so bored when you’re gone.” He chuckled and hugged her tight while kissing her head “Sweetheart I promise every night we’ll call and talk about our days okay?” She sniffled nodding her head while he made her look up at him “It’ll be alright pretty girl, I promise I’ll be back and you can have all of my attention for as long as you need.” She smiled especially when he gave her a kiss & rubbed her back assuringly before spending the day together before his exit into Arizona..
And then he finally left, it had been going smoothly for the first 3 days until 1 specific night, Delilah was shutting down the store after waiting all day for him to text her back, for the last 2 days he had been slacking on texts or calls which caused her to already distance herself a little bit since she assumed she had annoyed him or upset him in someway, so she would distract herself by cleaning up the store & emptying the register while her little sister was already asleep upstairs, Usually Delilah would look on her phone for latest updates on pop culture in general until she saw one specific article where the headliner began with “Cody Rhodes & Nikki Bella rumored to be dating?!” And the poor things heart dropped, Usually at this time Cody would be FaceTiming her and that he did which made her panic more.
Lilah’s heart hurt a lot, she had become way too attached to Cody & ended up feeling a little foolish after seeing the headliner. She didn’t know what to do in this situation so she went completely radio silent, She shoved the phone in her pocket and let it buzz while she made her way upstairs to go to bed, for the next few days Cody would be trying to get ahold of her but he would never get a response which left him in confusion, this gave him more of a reason to stop by the shop when he came back, Jey & Seth would keep him updated as they reported to him that the little angel would seem down in the dumps and would only keep the shop open for half a day which was never ever like her.
Meanwhile Lilah would be a sobbing mess, She cried her little heart out but still kept her kindess towards others feelings first before hers, she would stuff her head in a pilow & whimper about it and just feel utterly awful for becoming so attached to a person she shouldn’t have, She didn’t know exactly when he was coming back but she assumed soon, Today she was in the back planting a few flowers distracting her mind while Kinsley sat in-front of the register coloring & doodling but suddenly the door chimed, “Hey Kins, I haven’t heard from your sister for a bit have you seen her?” The little girl scoffed while Lilah listened in with an intrigued ear “Delilah’s very busy, maybe youu! Can turn around & Leave!” Kinsley glared and threw her star dust figurine at his head, He furrowed his brows at the sudden sass “Well aren’t you just a little ball of joy huh? I’ll be back tomorrow.” He addressed before leaving while Delilah peeked her head out of the backroom “Kins that was a bit mean don’t you think?” She shook her head & continued drawing.
The next day Delilah was standing in the boutique area picking out certain laces for s new dress to make while Kinsley was in her usual spot, Cody saw them from outside of the window & rushed inside “Jesus christ Delilah I was worried sick why haven’t you been answering your phone?” She turned around startled as if she was a deer in head lights “I- Store! I really have to get something from the store!” Kinsley glared at Cody while he crossed his arms “Sweetheart if you’re gonna lie at least make it sound believable.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her off to the back “Now why in the world are you not answering my texts baby? It’s almost as if you’re avoiding me.” She had no idea what to do as she never knew how to properly communicate so as to be expected she was overwhelmed and stumbled on words he couldn’t even make out until he squeezed her hand a bit
“Angel you need to breathe before you give yourself a migraine.” He warned softly and practiced his breaths with her until she randomly started tearing up “Nikki- you! Girlfriend! You have a girlfriend!” She cried out which made him frown a bit but immediately stopped when she made her self start to cry and pick at the ends of her hair “Oh baby no, no, no no” he wrapped her in his arms “While some of it is infact true most of it isn’t, we had a moment for 1 single night and that was it, me & her aren’t dating or anything it was just some dumb hookup, I felt horrible despite us not being together I only want you Lilah, Your the only girl I could ever want in my life.” He assured her "I’m sorry you had to read that baby, you didn’t need to find out in that way" she whimpered nodding her little head while he chuckled "You okay Angel?"
she sniffled rubbing her eyes that were already red from her constant daily sobbing "S-So i'm not annoying?” He shook his head cupping her face “oh baby no, never, you’ll never annoy me angel.” He frowned wiping off her face with his thumb “Baby if you’re upset about something you can’t just shut down & store it all in, you absolutely need to say something.” She nodded very meekly before curling into him “I know ‘m sorry” she mumbled but he gripped her face “I don’t want you apologizing to me one bit baby.” She nodded before pulling away while he cleaned up her face “Let’s just hope your little sister becomes my #1 Hater yeah?” She smiled softly and held onto his hands “and you need to start voicing out and using your big girl words kapeche?”
Sh sniffled nodding her head “Kapeche.” she smiled softly & held onto him while he started to sway them side to side to help calm her down, hopefully this would help her realize she’s the only one that could have his entire heart.
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mybadlywrittenstories · 9 months
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Two Different Worlds (Jasper Hale Fanfiction) Chapter Two
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Word Count: 2,699
*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
A chorus of grumbled profanities left my chapped lips as my hand searched blindly for my deafening alarm. Once the alarm was silenced, I groggily opened my eyes, rubbing the crusted sleep from my eyes as I did. Looking over to my clock I saw the time read 6:02am. A sense of anxiety began to fill my chest as I realized today would be my first day at my new high school.
It seemed childish to worry about something so trivial as going to a new school especially when I would only be here for the next few months. The typical 'what if I get lost' and 'what if no one likes me?' echo in my head regardless. Childish or not, I was still worried. Which is why I decided to get up so god-awfully early. To make the absolute best first impression I could, this was a small town after all. I'm sure whatever gossip spreads around about me is going to be based mainly on how today goes.
My body protested as I clamored out of bed, desperate for more rest. I didn't forfeit and go back to bed though, I dragged myself in the shower carrying my toiletries basket with me and grabbing two towels from the hallway closet on my way. I went through my typical shower routine, the mundane task did little to help wake me up. There was however a sense of comfort in the familiar tasks such as scrubbing my hair with my coconut-scented shampoo and washing my face with some bubbly cleanser Abbi had let me 'permeantly borrow'. Even tho I was across the country, some things were still the same. It was a pleasant reminder that they were still there for me, regardless of the distance.
As I left the shower I dried my hair to the best of my ability with the first of my two towels, wrapping the second securely around my frame. I made a mental note that I'd have to ask Bella if she brought our shared hair dryer. I rubbed some coconut oil into the length of my hair and combed through its length with my fingers. Moving onto my face I applied a sweet-scent moisturizer to my face. Lastly, I brushed my teeth for a solid three minutes and used Charlie's Spirimint mouthwash.
Once I felt properly cleaned, I made my way out of the bathroom, dropping my hair towel and dirty pajamas into the hallway hamper, and went back into my room. Good impression... Good impression... Repeated in my mind as I tore through my suitcases looking for something to wear. I threw my red corduroy pants onto my bed, then looked for a matching shirt. The weather in Forks was wildly different than in Arizona, so my shirt selection was limited. After about five minutes of my irritating search, I landed on my thick white sweater. The only sweater in my wardrobe; I mentally noted I may want to pick up a few extra shirts and pants the next time I was close to a department store.
--Ding Ding Ding
I heard the distant sound of Bella's alarm going off in her room, followed quickly by the muffled sluggish footsteps of her getting up to go use the restroom. Sparing a glance at my digital clock I saw it was already 7:20, meaning I had about an hour to do my makeup, and hair, and then eat before we had to be on our way to school.
I rustled through my bags again searching for a pair of socks, underwear, and bra, then swiftly got dressed. I took a seat in the old leather desk chair my father had bought me secondhand a few years ago, and started to apply my makeup. I am by no means a pro makeup artist so I settled for a little bit of concealer, lipgloss, light blush and highlighter, and some pink-tinted eyeshadow mixed with a light brown; dabbing a light dusting of the highlighter around the tear ducts of my eyes. As far as hair went, I never got very fancy with it, opting to quickly brush my hair out to ensure no knots, then slapping a scrunchie on my wrist just in case the wind proved to be too much today.
I grabbed my pair of dusty white sketchers with me, as I made my way out of my room. My dirty towel was left forgotten on my bedroom floor. I could hear Bella still getting ready in her room and decided I would make something for the both of us to eat before school. I clamored down the staircase and into the kitchen, as I browsed through the kitchen I realized I'd have to stop by the store sometime soon to stock up the Kitchen. Charlie seemingly had been living on scraps for god knows how long.
I placed two pieces of wheat bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever, then poured some slightly stale-looking Cheerios into two bowls and placed the milk on the table. I buttered the toast once it was done cooking and placed one piece in front of each of the bowls. As I poured milk into my bowl, I heard Bella's door slam open followed by the clumsy footsteps of her coming downstairs. She wore a simple green button-up shirt and grey long-sleeve ensemble, paired typically with a pair of dark skinny jeans. It wasn't anything fancy but it was very Bella.
"I made breakfast" I stated as she entered the Kitchen, "It's nothing fancy Dad doesn't have much." I finished before eating my meal, she hummed in agreement before sitting down silently and picking at the piece of toast.
"Should we go grocery shopping?" She asked, pouring the milk into her bowl.
"Yeah, probably," I answered before shoving a mouthful of cereal into my mouth. Once I swallowed I continued, "I have a half schedule here, since I completed most of my credits back in Arizona. If you don't mind I could take your truck once I am done, then pick some stuff up at the market."
She hummed in consideration, then nodded her head, "Yeah that'll work. Just don't take too long. I don't want to wait in this weather." She said, wrinkling her nose up in disgust.
"I'll be quick, don't worry."
We finished eating in silence, not an uncomfortable silence. This is how it was often like with Bella, she was always content to sit in silence. No need for unnecessary chit-chat.
Bella took both our dishes to the sink and started to speedily rinse them off. I took the time to check my back backpack and make sure everything I'd be needing was tucked away safely.
Books- Check. Notepad- Check. Pencil Pouch- Check. iPod- Check. Earbuds- Check.
I tucked my small flip phone in the side pocket, everything I'd need to survive the day. Neatly packed up, ready to go. As Bella came into the small hallway, she handed me a small wad of cash.
"From the grocery fund."
"Thanks."
We both put on our jackets, lugged our school bags onto our shoulders, and laced up of sneakers. She grabbed her new car keys off the small hook and opened the door for me. I nodded my head in thanks as we made our way out in the frigid early morning.
The drive to school went smoothly, her engine roared to life almost comically loud. Suddenly, I was thankful Charlie had gifted this old truck to Bella instead of me; I could feel the eyes turning towards us as we slowly drove by through the town. I'm surprised it didn't seem to make a difference to her, typically she hates having the attention drawn on her.
We made it to the school a lot quicker than we had expected. The school being on the other side of town didn't hold as much of a punch as it did back in Phoenix. It took us less than ten minutes to make it to Forks High. The parking lot was already busy and bustling full of students, all of whom turned their eyes to watch the unfamiliar old truck roll up; Alerted due to the sound of the engine.
Bella was quick to park in the nearest available space and shut off the engine. Her cheeks dusted a light pink-- Ah so the noise does bother her. A small smirk tugged at my lips, it was a tad cruel but it did seem fair. She gets a free car, she deserves a light sprinkling of public humiliation.
We made our way into the school office together, thankfully it wasn't hard to find. This school was not even a quarter the size of our old high school. The lady sitting at the front desk was a rather large woman, with big red hair; a few streaks of grey mixed into the wild web of hair. On top of her nose sat a pair of round glasses which seemed to shrink her already small eyes. On the desk in front of her lay a nameplate 'Shelly Cope'
"Well good morning, the Swan girls I presume?" She asked, her voice was sweet but had a certain stern edge to it. No doubt caused by her many years working with unruly teens.
"Yes ma'am," I answered for both of us, "We just needed to pick up our class schedules."
"I see, I see." She mumbled moving around a few papers on her desk. "Just give me a minute, dear. I know I had them around here somewhere..." She trailed off.
Me and Bella stood there awkwardly as she frantically searched through the mounds of paper littered across her desk. That familiar anxious thrumming of my heartbeat in my chest, I don't know why but a sense of extreme unease started to wash over me. It was making me nauseous.
"Here we go, girls!" Ms. Cope exclaimed lifting up two bundles of paper. "This one is for you Isabella." She stated holding out a piece of paper for Bella to grab. Bella made an unhappy noise at the use of her full name, but grabbed the paper regardless; mumbling a quiet thank you. "And this one is for you, dear," She handed me a stack of three papers. "You'll have a class schedule, a map of the school, and an attendance sheet. Please make sure your teachers sign the attendance sheet and then turn it back into me at the end of your classes." She finished, a genuine warm smile spreading across her face.
"Will do."
"No problem."
We both walked out of the office and looked at our class schedules. Both of us groaned when we were reminded of Forks High's most frustrating policy. Mandated Gym all four years. I could take some solace in the fact I only had three periods, and the last one I'd be able to go immediately home and shower-- assuming it was a particularly sweaty workout.
Bella peered over to my schedule and let out a sigh when she saw we shared no classes together. I put a reassuring arm around her should and dragged her away from the parking lot. "Don't worry, Bells. Time will fly by at school you'll hardly notice I'm gone." I joked, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.
"I just thought it would be nice if at least you were in some of my classes, would be nice to not be completely alone."
It stung at my heart to hear the tone in her voice, maybe I could stay for her lunch period after my gym class. Make sure she wasn't wallowing in self pity by herself at lunch. "Don't stress about it to much, you dork. I'll come eat with you at lunch, how does that sound?"
"I guess that would be okay."
"See you then, Bells! Now let's get to class." I urged, and we parted ways. My first period was English with a Mr. Berty. Second Period was Trigonometry with Mr. Varner. Then lastly, Gym with Coach Clapp. I unfolded the map in my small stack paper and tried to pinpoint my first class. It didn't take me very long to find where I was supposed to go, the map seemed pretty straight forward. So on my way I went, following the map and the few signs scattered around the bustling halls.
As the minutes ticked by, the halls started to thin out and pretty soon I was alone in the long hallway staring down at the map that started to seem more and more complex as time went on. I swear the class should be right here, but as I looked through the windows of the classroom all I saw was vacant rooms. Stacked up chairs and desks in the corner. How the hell did I end up here?
"Are you lost?" A voice called from shockingly close behind me, an angelic voice that was captivatingly alluring. I turned to see who had spoken and my heart skipped a beat. A small frail looking girl stood in front of me, her short spikey hair perfectly framing her ungodly beautiful face accentuating her abnormally gold tinted eyes. A small sense of fear started to snake it's way through my body, causing confusion to swirl around in my head. I was only about 5'3 but I almost toward over this angel on earth, there was no reason for me to fear her; and yet here I was heart beating quickly, hands becoming more clammy by the second.
"Uhm," I cleared my throat, trying to push away my unease, "Well, yes. I thought this was the way to my English class but I seem to have gotten turned around somewhere." I explained sheepishly.
Her melodious laugh broke the awkward silence that had encapsulated us. "How perfect." She sung, clapping her small hands together, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "I was just heading there when I saw you wondering around over here. Why don't you walk with me?" She offered, beaming up at me.
"That's very kind of you," I smiled, her genuine kindness dissipated my unease, I motioned down the hall for her, "After you."
A small giggle escaped her mouth yet again, "That's the wrong way, Cali. We have to go back the way you came. You turned left when you should've gone right." She stated, grabbing my hand and leading me along with her. She was exuding such optimism I almost missed her used of my nickname.
"How did you know my name was Cali?" I asked, trying to pull my hand back to my side in skepticism, but her iron clad grip didn't weaken. Without missing a single beat she responded to my question, "Oh I suppose I got a bit ahead of myself." Her light skip towards the end of the hall slowed and she looked over at me as she continued, "I'm Alice Cullen, and trust me everyone knows about you and you sister Isabella. You've been the talk of the town." I cringed slightly at the thought of my dad running around talking about me, hopefully he didn't tell anyone anything to embarrassing. What she said covered everything, except one small detail. I could see her mouth twitch the second I opened my mouth to speak.
"How did you know I went by Cali though?" I pondered, noticing the smallest glint in her eye, "Most people call me by my first name Calliope, at least when we first meet." I explained, nervous I had upset her going off the look on her face.
Her face perked up within the second, quickly responding, "Well I wasn't positive but you don't look like the type to go by Calliope, call it a lucky guess."
"Ah I see, that's fair. Very lucky guess." Her face lit up and she picked up her quick skip as we neared the end of the empty hall, "You'll learn that about me pretty quickly, my dear. I make very lucky guesses." She sung before we stopped outside of a door, right as the bell rang. "Here it is."
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bad-fucking-omens · 10 months
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The Witch Twin (Alec V. x OC) - Chapter 16 - Paris
Summary: When I thought about my future, I was sure that I had the rest of my life vaguely planned out.
Then, my older sister moved up from Arizona to stay with us — and turned my entire life upside down.
I had no idea just how bad it had gotten until I was standing in a castle in Italy, convinced that I was about to die.
Length: 2.8K words (Complete fic 71.8K words)
Fic warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, explicit smut (M/F), referenced/implied past child abuse, emotional manipulation by sibling
Chapter warnings: References to sex, explicit smut [M/F, P in V]
Read on AO3 or read below
16. PARIS
My wide eyes eagerly flickered around the street I walked down the Champs-Élysées. Alec was by my side, my hand held firmly in his. The sidewalk was lined with luxury, designer stores on one side and neatly trimmed, bright green trees on the other. I could see Alec watching me look around from the corner of my eye, a soft smile on his face.
We arrived in Paris early this morning. Luckily, it was a cloudy, overcast day, so we were able to walk the streets openly without having to take any precautions about hiding our glittering skin.
“God, it’s so beautiful here,” I said. I reached up and gripped his bicep with my free hand, pulling myself closer to his side. I closed my eyes as I pressed my nose to his shoulder and took a deep breath, using his scent to help calm my nearly overwhelmed mind.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you are,” Alec said.
I laughed and lifted my head up from his shoulder.
“You’re so sweet to me,” I murmured. He smiled and pressed a kiss on my temple. “Where are we going first?”
“Wherever you want, my love. It’s up to you.”
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere,” he confirmed.
I grinned and Alec laughed as I started to pull him towards one of the nearby stores. He stuck close to my side as I searched through the various racks of clothes and accessories in the boutique. I glanced at the price tag of a cute, pastel pink sundress that I was interested in. But when I saw the three digit number, I flinched away, grimacing.
“Don’t look at the price,” Alec murmured quietly. “If you want something, get it.”
I glanced at him. “Are you sure? It’s expensive.”
He smirked and brushed my hair behind my ear. “My sweet girl, we have more than enough money to buy every single item in this entire store, and it still wouldn’t make a dent in our fortune.”
I smiled sheepishly. Alec chuckled softly and placed a kiss on my cheek. He repeated, “Get anything you want, love.”
I continued to search through the other dresses on the rack. I could hear two store employees speaking with each other, but they were talking in French so I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I suspected that Alec understood them, though, based on the way he laughed quietly and shook his head.
A mini dress caught my eye. I took it from the rack and held it up, tilting my head slightly to the side as I examined it. The fabric was soft and silky and slid against my fingers almost as if it was liquid, and the color was a dark, blood red.
“Alec,” I called, gaining his attention, “what do you think?”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against his chest. He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “Buy two of them, because the first one won’t survive more than a second after you put it on, princess.”
I turned my head to look at him. A smirk curled on my lips when I saw the lust in his eyes. I turned back and plucked a duplicate dress from the rack. Alec bent his head down to brush his lips over the bite mark scar on my neck, which made me shiver. He laughed softly.
Alec followed me through the boutique, watching with a smile as I picked out one more dress — this one was a floor-length black gown that had a deep v-neck and a slit that would run up to my upper thigh — and a pair of black high heels.
One of the employees was waiting for us at the register. The blonde girl’s eyes widened when Alec handed over a black credit card — one that I knew was linked to one of the Volturi’s many bank accounts.
She asked him something in French as she folded the dresses and placed them neatly in a paper shopping bag.
‘He is so hot. I wonder if the girl with him is just a fling. . . .’
I tensed as Alec replied in French to the girl. She handed him back the card and held out the bag to him. I took it from her, narrowing my eyes as she looked Alec over appreciatively. Jealousy coursed through me. I was on the verge of pulling Alec into a fierce kiss simply to prove that he was mine and would never be hers.
As soon as we were out of the store, Alec asked worriedly, “What’s wrong, my love?”
“I could hear her thinking about how attractive you are,” I replied, my voice bitter even though I wasn’t angry with him.
“She is nothing compared to you,” Alec said softly, lifting my chin slightly. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips at his reassurance, which made him smile. He pushed my hair away from my face and kissed my forehead. “My gorgeous little mate, you are and forever will be the only one I will ever want.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
We began to walk down the street again, but then Alec stopped suddenly and looked at me.
“You heard her thoughts?”
I nodded, then furrowed my brows in confusion. “I . . . I don’t know how I did it. . . . I couldn’t hear your thoughts, just hers.”
“Hm,” Alec hummed. He squeezed my hand as we continued on our way again. “We can try to figure out why that is later, okay?”
“Yeah.” I looked up at him, smiling again. “Where to next?”
“Wherever you want, love.”
We spent the entire day shopping at the many luxury boutiques that Paris was known for. By the time we returned to our hotel suite that night, I was sure that all of the clothes I had bought would easily fill my half of the walk-in closet back in Volterra. A good portion of the clothes were from famous fashion houses — Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Gucci — but there were also quite a few bags from smaller, more affordable stores that we had found.
I laid back on the bed, closing my eyes and humming softly. After a long moment, my eyes fluttered open and I reached my hand out towards Alec. He moved closer and took my hand, allowing me to pull him onto the bed on top of me. He brushed his lips lightly across my cheek.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I love spending time alone with you.”
“I love it, too,” he murmured.
I turned my head to look out of the window. We could see the Eiffel Tower from our room. It was all lit up, it’s bright lights twinkling like stars against the dark sky.
Alec brushed my hair away from my face and neck. He traced his fingertip lightly across my cheek. I let out a soft sigh as he started to press soft kisses across my cheek and down my jaw. His lips trailed onto my neck and I tilted my head to give him more access to my throat. He opened his mouth and just barely let his teeth scrape against my skin. I sucked in a sharp breath, fisting my hands in the silk sheets beneath our bodies. I could feel Alec smile against my neck, right over the scar from my transformation.
He slowly began to unbutton the cream-colored satin blouse I was wearing. He pushed the fabric away from my body and I slipped my arms out of the shirt, pushing it to the floor. Alec pressed kisses along the swell of my breasts, tracing the cups of my lace bra as he reached under me to deftly unhook it. He tossed the scrap of black lace to the floor before he took my nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff nub as he gently massaged my other breasts with his hand.
“Alec,” I breathed.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as wetness pooled between my thighs. He moved his mouth to my other breasts and moved his hand down to unbutton and unzip my jeans. I helped him pull them off of my legs, along with my lacy underwear. His fingers slid between my legs, gently rubbing my clit and making me moan.
Alec pulled away from me just long enough to shed his own clothes. I sat up and, once he was naked, gently pushed him down onto the bed. I straddled his waist, smirking down at him when I saw the shocked look on his face. I rubbed my hands across his strong, bare chest while his hands settled on my thighs.
I reached down and took his hard cock in my hand. Alec’s eyes fluttered and I could feel the tension in his fingers on my legs. I slowly stroked him before I moved up the bed and slid down onto him.
My breath caught in my throat when I fully sank down onto him. Alec groaned and his grip on my thighs grew tighter. For a few seconds, I stayed completely still, just letting myself adjust to the stretch of him inside me while Alec caught his breath. Then, I slowly began to move my hips.
I moaned as a now familiar pressure began to build in the bottom of my belly, liquid heat spreading throughout my body from between my legs. Alec moaned with me, reaching one hand up to tangle in my hair and pull me down over his body.
Our lips clashed together and he began to thrust up into me, his other arm wrapping around my waist to help keep me exactly where he wanted me. I let him take control — I loved being able to not have to focus on anything except the pleasure coursing through my body while we had sex.
“You feel so good, my love,” Alec breathed. He pressed kisses along my cheeks and nose and jaw. “You’re taking me so well, sweet girl.”
“I love the way you feel inside me,” I whispered.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck as a shockwave of pleasure rolled through my body, moans tumbling out of my mouth.
Alec groaned and weaved his fingers into my hair, tugging my head up from his neck.
“No hiding. I want to see you come undone, pretty girl.”
I whimpered, his words sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Our crimson eyes were locked together. I gasped softly as a particularly rough thrust made stars dance on the edge of my vision. Alec’s hand moved from my hair to gently grip the back of my neck as I dropped my forehead down to rest against his.
We were enveloped by the heady scent of us. His sweet aroma of chamomile tea and lavender and sugared lemon mixed with my own decadent scent of roses and vanilla and honey. It filled my lungs and clouded my mind until the only thought my brain could form was Alec and how good it felt to have him wrapped around me and inside me.
“I love you,” I moaned breathlessly. “I love you, I love you.”
Alec’s eyes rolled back as he groaned, his grip on my waist and neck tightening as his hips began to lose their careful rhythm.
“I love you,” he murmured when he looked back at me. He brushed my hair away from my face, then trailed his fingers to my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the two fingers in my mouth and Alec groaned, “My perfect, sweet girl. . . . Let go for me, princess. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.”
I sucked in a sharp breath as the pressure that had been building between my thighs finally exploded. My eyes fluttered shut as my body tensed, tsunami waves of pleasure rolling through my whole body. Faintly, I heard Alec groan as he came with me.
When the intense pleasure started to wear off, I moved off of him and cuddled up against his side instead. My body was tingling pleasantly, an after-effect of my intense orgasm. Alec brushed his hand over my hair and pressed a gentle kiss to my hairline. My heart swelled with love, the way it always did when we basked in the afterglow of our intimate moments. I kissed his chest, then nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
“Do you want to go anywhere or do anything tonight?” he asked softly, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger.
“What is there to do at night?”
“We could go sightseeing. A lot of the main attractions are lit at night. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame. . . . It will also be quite a bit less crowded than they are during the daytime,” he explained. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
I hummed. “Okay. I just want to spend the whole day at the Louvre tomorrow. I want to see all the exhibits.”
Alec laughed softly. “As you wish, my love.”
After we cuddled for a while longer, we got up and got dressed to go out. We spent the rest of the night walking around the beautiful city of light. Alec took me on a midnight tour of all the iconic landmarks of Paris, adding detours to his favorite hidden gems in the city as well.
There was a tiny bookstore within walking distance of the Eiffel Tower. It carried rare and special edition books that we spent a good half hour looking over. He even took me down into the catacombs, where we saw bones and skulls stacked on top of each other from the floor to the low, stone ceilings.
“This is kinda creepy but also really pretty,” I said quietly.
“Hauntingly beautiful,” Alec agreed softly.
We finally climbed out of the catacombs, emergency onto the street. Dark clouds covered the sky, giving us cover from the rising sun.
“What time does the Louvre open?” I asked.
“Nine.” Alec glanced at his watch. “If we walk there now, we will arrive just as they open the doors.”
“Perfect!” He laughed lightly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we began to walk down the streets.
Various scents assaulted my acute nose — bread and pastries from the bakery we walked past, various flowers from the shops that were unloading their fresh deliveries, cigarette smoke from a few locals that were sitting and enjoying their morning coffee. I was getting better at not focusing on the scents, which helped me not get so overwhelmed.
Alec also took me out to hunt every other night while we were in the city. Constantly soothing the scorching flames in my throat helped keep me from losing control when we were around so many humans. I still didn’t trust myself to get too close to any humans, but Alec was always careful to keep us a fair distance away unless we absolutely needed to go near them.
I gripped Alec’s hand tightly when I saw the iconic crystal pyramid that stood outside of the museum.
“Excited, princess?” he teased gently.
“Of course! I’ve wanted to visit the Louvre since I was in middle school,” I said. I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. “How many times have you been here?”
Alec smirked. “More than ten times, love.”
“You’re going to be my personal tour guide, then,” I ordered with a smile.
He laughed and said, “As you wish.”
We entered the museum and, as I asked, Alec took charge and began to lead me around on a tour of the exhibits. He spoke quietly in my ear, describing and detailing the history and interpretations of each painting and sculpture that we passed. Between the beautiful, inspiring artwork and his soft, entrancing voice, I knew that this would be one memory that I would truly cherish for the rest of my existence.
We finally returned to our hotel room after the sun went down. Alec followed me out onto the balcony of our suite, curling his arms around my waist as he brushed his lips against my neck. I hummed softly and tilted my head to the side, leaning back into his embrace.
“Paris has been amazing,” I murmured. “Thank you for taking me.”
“Of course, Eve.”
“Are we going to stay here for the rest of our trip?”
“If that is what you would like,” he said. “It is entirely your decision, my love.”
“I think maybe one more day here, and then go back to our cottage. I know that I’m getting better at controlling myself, but I like not having to worry about losing control.”
Alec hummed and said softly, “I understand. . . . We will leave tomorrow night, after sundown. We’ll arrive at the cottage by dawn and spend our last few weeks there.”
“Perfect,” I whispered, turning in his arms to face him. I leaned up and pressed my lips to his.
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spaciousreasoning · 25 days
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Recovery & Triggers
Tuesday’s blood sugar was up again, to 186. Too much pie too late, evidently. After the usual morning coffee and brain games, we made breakfast sandwiches, using the brioche buns with bacon, cheese and eggs. We’ll get some ham and sausage the next time we go to the grocery store and try those.
We walked from Jasper Road Trailhead to the junction with Middle Fork Path and a ways beyond, about 2.2 miles round trip. It did not rain on us this time. A wildlife viewing platform is going to be built close to the trailhead. Fencing was being put up when we were there last, and now there’s a sign announcing the plans.
Coming back along the path we noticed a memorial posted by the father of a man named Brian who was murdered on April 20, 2008. No other information was given on the marker and an internet search yielded nothing. I won’t do any more investigating, but I will keep my eyes open.
After a shower and nap, we shared a slice of pie, leaving plenty of time for the sugar to wear off before the next glucose check.
Getting on the computer, I added a couple more Oregon-based photographers and illustrators to the queue for Tumbling Pixels. I also saw lots of friends from Oregon and Arizona posting on Facebook from Washington, D.C., where they are attending the World Convention of N.A.
For dinner we had leftover spinach lentil curry again, with garlic naan on the side. Then I walked around the greater neighborhood area for about 1.25 miles at my own pace. Nancy wasn’t up to any more walking for the day.
When I got to the Tuesday men’s recovery meeting ten minutes before the start time, the room was already full, with most of those in attendance from some local treatment center. I counted about a dozen regular members, but we were outnumbered by the visitors.
Then a fellow who attends regularly showed up wearing a red MAGA hat. I wanted to snatch it off his head or walk out immediately, but I stuck around and behaved. And I kept my eyes closed most of the time so I did not have to look at the guy sitting right across from me. It pretty much ruined the meeting for me. And continued to bug me for the rest of the evening.
A friend texted this to me in response to my complaint: “Narcotics Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues; hence the NA name ought never be associated with liars, con-men, rapists, and insurrectionists.”
For the evening’s entertainment, we watched the first episode of the new “Only Murders in the Building” series, followed by the first episode of the fifth season of “The Sommerdahl Murders,” a Danish detective series where things are complicated by a love triangle.
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What the thinking probably is behind...
Two "navigator" busses at Garfield street: aryan brotherhood and other skinhead associated white gangs trying to be "authority figure" of any kind. (Because they've been led to believe and/or ordered to act on, getting an improved quality of life by doing this sort of thing. *Perhaps doled out by cartels*
All the coopers and paradoxically, some of the teslas actively seeking me out: Someone heard I "wanted to belong" somewhere (news to me) and clearly, following me around with their car based *solely on the connotation* of make and model, is the *best possible way* to advertise. *perhaps also doled out by cartels, because cooper is suspiciously similar sounding to "koopa"* (They're really trying to convert the local *international* drug production hub in the valley of the (latin)kings, into liquid whiteness.
Yellow: Like a whore of Babylon joke disguised as a sunflower tattooed woman, there's a religious push under there. See the yellow where thematically ethnic businesses exist, perhaps parked dead center outside. See the three wheeled moped roll up next to me, this one yellow at the entrance bridge. Like a Charon's ferry joke. See all yellow things; in a food pantry; in the cart ahead at Moc during off peak hours. And I don't think it's the least bit funny but for two things; a fortune 500 company based in this town, and an international drug production hub and also "cartel geneva" down the road (based here in the valley; one of the historically whitest communities in the united states). "You eat the yellow" "you drink the yellow" "the yellow is in everything" Yellow is a color and the one I don't like, so I don't want to implicate a synagogue, but it does feel like them.
A gang stalker representing all my stolen (and compromised, if playlists at local markets since are any indication) devices over the years: Conoting celebrity stalking; they must know [celebrity] really well, because they've been stealing their socks and reading their mail for a long time, right?
People with dead end jobs beginning to look more like me than they don't, around town: everything cartel latinos do, is communal, meaning there's a "caste development" operation running out of the vicinity of the college *cough* ryan *cough*. So squat and wide "humpty dumpty" built men and women should start "soaking up" the middle management and/or authority sans immediate responsibility jobs, soon about town. Especially and most prominent where latinos have long made inroads into white gangs (and whole businesses within their sphere of influence)
Ashland Safeway begins resembling shop n kart across town for no discernible logical reason: Ashland Safeway remodeled a dilapidated location going back some fifty years, staffed it entirely with blonde haired and blue eyed (a stark departure from Safeway corporate history; picture a single target store of cis and terf gay bashers) employees under direction of "tall poppies" called Midwest store directors. And then, diversity. All the sudden, from nowhere, and what followed *then*? Subtle little things. A "milk the magic" sign back in the dairy, a "wall" of kettle chips across the front of the store, a wine aisle adjacent to a centralized produce department, aisles named after roads in town where "snk" called it's center span "a boulevard of broken dreams". And yeah, it seems trendy until "pet food, cleaning products, small repair knickknacks" is aisle "13". And yes also, staffing around present time is looking a lot more like the co-op. (Because there was Cantwells and that was Rome, and snk is the eastern roman empire to the co-op's western one, for *Ashland store* title competition)
*Corner is quiet for once*
So what does all that mean? If snk is the Ashland store, then Safeway (syndicated, corporate, absorbed a family department chain from Arizona) should act like snk; meaning snk employees and management could be *the best employees*, helping cartel latinos ultimately and in the short run, to poison the well of a national corporation. And before snk management manages to "kill it's host". How to get an "in" as it were. (Co-op deserves a mention here, because it's long been the town meat market, and Safeway is all glass now out front; co-op "meat" itself can't even afford the meat market anymore since things got so bad)
Formerly a school before a Safeway; slow business there is because all the customers were old enough to *remember the school*. And have long since passed.
4300: A family plot going back six generations in the family, and choicest seeming part of a vast estate a long time ago. A former site of nationally important kkk meetings at the "peak" of their influence. A climbing parlance for *really tall and scarce mountain*. A prize seemingly for everyone from nazis to hassidics (issac AND Ishmael), cartels, criminal organizations Sicilian, Russian, even Chicago itself. What that land does to people. Whole former empires want that damn thing.
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thewaybackcloset · 2 years
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Cool Girls Making Cool Sh*t
Since being on the Instagram, it has had its ups and downs as a creative platform. Its developed personalities that were born on the likes of MySpace and Buzznet into full fledged entrepreneurs over the matter of a decade in the information age. I wanted take this moment to pay my respects to some of my favorite creators and designers out there making things and working the work. [PART 1]
1) Tiny Thunder Design
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I first discovered this eclectic table of jewelry trinkets in Seattle at a market full of creators called the Bad Will Market. This gal Phoebe makes most, if not all, of her inventory, which is pretty spectacular since her Etsy store runs about 300+ items, from mainly jewelry to random vintage clothing. What I love about her items is that you can find anything from: pizza slice earrings, witchy crescent moons, crystals and resin pendant necklace with many pop culture references. If your a fan of 90s cult classics like Twin Peaks, Jurassic Park, anything grunge or Pacific Northwest related. Give her a follow!
2) Jini And Tonic
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While I was wandering the streets of Logan Square, a neighborhood of Northwest Chicago, my friend who so graciously hosted me, showed me this lonely storefront called Flair. Inside was a small vintage round rack and a whole wall of enamel pins, sassy greeting cards and patches. Twin Peaks seems to come up A LOT in this blog, well anytime and of course there were some pins reminiscent of the Log Lady and Agent Dale Cooper speaking with Diane. The brand: Jini and Tonic perfectly meshes cult classic phenomena into wearable art. While some are pop culture references, a lot of designs played satirical keys of today's wild politico world. The storefront has since closed due to lack of foot traffic in the area, however you can find her pins at various shops, pop-up markets in and around Chicago and of course online: Jini And Tonic.
3) Tesseomancer: Art By Tessa Tigges
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About a year into being a Vegas resident, I got a serving job at a cool place inside the Hard Rock Hotel. The girl who trained me happens to be a talented artist! She quickly left the desert life and is now based in Los Angeles. Her style is beautifully haunting and gothic just like her artwork. With intricate line work, her art features various desert-scape scenes, blended with all seeing eyes and alchemical symbolism. She pays homage to her Arizona origins with images of saguaro cacti, agave and other desert flora and fauna. Currently, she is sold out of most of her art work, but offers various housewares, like tote bags and mugs that feature her illustrations. You can find art by Tessa at Tasseomancer online and peep her Instagram for pop up markets. [Update: @Tasseomancer_candles on IG]
4) Hunt & Orchard
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I have been following these two best friends for a few years now. Shining on through the downfall of their previous brand Gypsy Warrior, Nicla DiCosmo and Michel Bezoza started their more jewelry focused brand: Hunt & Orchard which offers new and vintage jewelry, talismans, accessories and manifestation kits. What I love about them is their branding. They are constantly updating their inventory as they find vintage pendants, rings and gem stones. From having so much success with Gypsy Warrior, they have kept strong relationships with their clientele, major plus if your developing a new e-commerce shop. Brands that manage to keep and grow their customers from a previous endeavor to a new project are doing it right. Hunt and Orchard periodically hold contests and flash sales, so give them a follow! I've been lucky to score from time to time.
More to come in part deaux! I've found so many lovely ladies that create works of art in their own mediums, or multi-versatile (made up word?) mediums, since this blog last post... which was YEARS AGO.
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cyborg00-why · 3 years
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Random yet specific headcanons
Alright, I’ve been working on a rancher fic and wanted to share a few of my favorite headcanons for these three. 
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Jet Link
- Considering his time of abduction and how often he’s gone off to be a ranch hand/play cowboy there is a very high chance he’s a Spaghetti Western fan. His ideas and romanticism of the west based almost solely on what he’d seen on film, by extension his bravado and man’s man personality being heavily influenced from such films. Something that both mirrored his gang life on the streets while still being a mental escape. The lone cowboy out to right wrongs on his own terms something he’d see in himself.
- This of course would bleed into an odd fascination/respect for Geronimo Jr. as he’d likely be the only Indigenous person he’d ever met (that he was aware of at least). The personification of the “last of a dying breed” trope you see often in such films, something he likely project onto Jr. Especially considering that being from New York he’d known of Mohawk Steelworkers but wouldn’t have known any personally. 
- Serial pawn shop shopper. He knows they don’t make knives or lighters like they use to and he’s got a small collection going.
- Apart from his established knife fighting skills, he’d whittle in his free time. 
-Great at darts.
- He’d be a great houseguest, very considerate and takes direction as well as he can. Doesn’t want to be deadweight on the ranch, and have a stern ‘earn his keep’ sort of vibe. 
-Despite having a high interest in learning the ropes he’d still struggle. His time on the ranch would positively impact his ‘square peg being forced into a round hole’ mentality. 
- Plays a mean game of checkers.
- Maybe too embarrassed to say it, but really respects Jr.’s self sufficiency and wants to take after him in some ways. Is really touched when Geronimo teaches him something. At the same time can be especially hurt when there are traditional lessons Jr. won’t share. 
-Sure he can play the guitar but he’s also been teaching himself the harmonica. He’s also good at playing both the spoons and a blade of grass but he’ll never admit to either. 
-Can do that really cool two finger whistle thing. 
- Long story but he knows from first hand experience that chickens float in water. Pyunma isn’t impressed and Jr. thinks it’s cute he likes chickens. 
- You know at some point in time Jet would do rodeo shows and live out the whole cliche bonding with a horse who can’t be broken bologna while Geronimo worked the event as an MC.
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Geronimo Jr.
Which brings me to Jr.
- You know, and I mean KNOW he’s worked the Arizona circuit like no ones business. Despite the team thinking of him as stoic and saying little everyone in town knows him as their favorite MC. He’s done everything from powwows, estate sales, property auctions, all the way to rodeos. 
-Those on the moccasin telegraph rumor he was a guest at G.O.N. in New Mexico one year. 
- Would absolutely have an old 1988 red, sun bleached Toyota Tacoma that had seen better days but still runs. Of course the suspension is shot and leans heavily on the drivers side. The glove compartment is full of old tapes, and he’d have at least one mix tape with classic 49ers in there too. 
- When he’s working as an auctioneer he goes Full Boomhauer
- Aunties love him. He’s always given an extra helping at food stalls and everyone is vying for him to say their fry bread is best, even though we all know his grandmothers was #1.
-Would be in the loop on all the local chisme.
-He can’t shop at normal stores for clothes, instead making annual custom orders through Wrangler and Dickies. 
-He is why Wrangler revoked their lifetime guarantee. Too many blown out shoulder seams.
-He’s excellent at traditional methodologies and takes a lot of pride in keeping traditions alive. He’d be a great beader and leatherworker, his mitts being extremely sought after in the community with order requests coming in year round. Word is he’ll sometimes make a trade if you can do quillwork. 
-Prior to the bootleg boom his family would have been respected artisans, collectors and locals alike still hold onto their older jewelry, and at a few estate sales he’d seen his dads old silver stamping tools still in circulation. Sometimes he get’s letters in the mail from a collector in another state asking to verify the family stamp.
-He’s got a lifetime ban from one diner in Albuquerque for smashing a jukebox that was playing The Ballad of Ira Hayes. 
-Standardized cooking measurements do not exist in his house, everything is old school cooking in relation to yourself. A handful of this, a pinch of that. 
- He has his grandmothers taste in home decor. 70′s shag rugs, wood laminate, acrylic yarn doilies, and a mug collection that at it’s best could be described as kitschy.  
-While he is incredibly thankful that after being abducted he’d gotten to keep his hair, there was also the struggle to maintain like he had before. Enhanced hulking muscles meant he isn’t as flexible as he use to be, and he is unable to braid it. So he kept it short on the dolphin, and even on breaks back home he’d grow it out in a bun tucked under his hat.  
On one of the many trips where Pyunma would stay with him, he’d catch Jr. early one morning struggling to braid it. Instead offering to do so himself. This became a routine whenever Pyunma stayed over, and as far as he knew the only person Jr. will let touch his hair. Pyunma would also take a lot of pride in his handiwork, especially whenever he’d catch Jr. admiring his own reflection.
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Pyunma
- He’d always wanted to visit Jr.’s ranch but maybe felt a bit awkward to ask, unsure if he’d even want the company.
- He’d immensely enjoy the monotony of ranch life, the predictability of long structured workdays giving him a chance to mentally tune out while keeping busy. A sort of stress relief from the unpredictability of his previous life back home.
- One of the only people Jr. would share teachings with because he understood that weight and responsibility that comes with it. 
- Would be really into plant identification and drying them for storage. Would have a whole notebook full of illustrations and field notes based on what Jr. shared. Maybe even get into salve making on the side. 
-Always carries a canteen to water the plants he harvests from, even when Jr. isn’t watching.
- Loves, loves, loves telling Jet believable lies about ranch stuff. Think lying about a weed being a cure all for muscle soreness, only to have Jr. ask where the hell he’d heard that from. 
- Big fan of cinnamon instant oatmeal, Jr. is sure to stock up when he knows Pyunma is coming by.
- Of all the hand crafts Jr. had shared with him, Pyunma’s favorite would be dressing feathers. He’s got a near cult following in the fancy dance community for his bustle work. 
- Very good at removing the stickers from nopales, often times double and triple checking Jr.’s handiwork before they make breakfast.
- Not afraid of rattlesnakes, but respects them deeply. Firm believer in the old rope trick. 
- Can haggle with the best of them at vendor stalls, he knows a tourist price when he hears one. 
- Enjoys listening to old radio dramas while laying in the back of Jr.’s truck at night. Eventually getting all three of them to make it a part of the weekly routine. They sit outside and start a fire, and make dinner before tuning in. They eat in silence, and when it get’s cold they all share a big wool pendleton. 
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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years
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Omg can I please have a fic where Quinn (possibly backed by all of SMH) absolutely throws down N*te. And then maybe comforts a Sad Nando bc nando is Soft and needles all the cuddles and support
Okay, this has been in popular demand for quite some time now. It may be 1:31 AM, but I’m counting this as a little birthday present for Nando.
Set during Quinn’s summer in Arizona. :D
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One of the first steps of taking your boyfriend home for the summer is showing him around.
For the past six days, that’s what Nando has taken it upon himself to do. He can’t believe, actually, that he and Quinn have been home from school for an entire week already— well, a week tomorrow, but still— and yet here they are, arrived at the last day of Nando’s extensive tour of the Phoenix metro area. They’ve spaced it out— something one day, something another— like dinner at Tio’s one night, an afternoon meeting his best friends from home, showing Quinn his childhood rink.
He’s satisfied with his own performance as a tour guide, but tomorrow means his first shift at Tio’s restaurant, which means that summer job season is really beginning. Which, like, obviously he and Quinn can still hang out— they’re living under the same roof; and if it’s not Mama or one of the girls, Quinn is the first person he sees every morning. It’s just that once he has a summer job schedule, their days won’t be entirely their own anymore.
For Quinn, he knows, that might be a little weird, at least for these first three weeks until Gabi and Rosa get out of school. Once they’re done, the summer theatre stuff starts up, and Quinn is getting paid to do that, so he’ll have something to do.
In the meantime, though, Nando knows he brought things with him. Like his knitting stuff. And a few books. And his camera.
And until tomorrow, the time is still theirs.
“Okay, my love,” Quinn says, at the kitchen table, over his toast and eggs. The morning is all theirs; Mama is at work, so once they got the twins out the door and onto the bus, Nando made him breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”
Nando grins at him. “Oh, you’re curious?”
He shrugs. “In a way.” He’s wearing a baggy KMH shirt tucked into his pajama bottoms, and he hasn’t even done his hair yet. Nando lives for seeing him like this— his obsessively proper boyfriend, who won’t be caught dead in jeans outside of a party, in his pajamas in his family’s kitchen.
It has been six days, and having Quinn at home has given him enough fuel for domestic daydreaming to last a lifetime.
It’s going to be a good summer.
“Well, I saved a good thing for last,” Nando tells him, reaching for his hand across the table. “We’re going to the beach.”
Quinn raises his eyebrows, skeptical. “In Arizona.”
“Yes,” he chirps back, because two can play at this game. “I’m driving you eight hours south to the ocean. Do you have your passport?” Quinn laughs a little, and he adds, “No, baby, the beach by the river. There’s a little park there. We can sit by the water in the sun.”
“Ooh.” Quinn smiles. “That sounds lovely.”
“But first,” he adds, squeezing his hand. “I’m taking you to my favorite Starbucks.”
Quinn cocks his head, with amusement in his smile now. “You have a favorite Starbucks?”
“You don’t have a favorite Starbucks?” he replies.
“I…” He trails off a little. “I can’t say I do, actually.”
“Well, I’ll educate you.” He brings his hand to his face, kisses it, and says, “Maybe this one will become your favorite.”
Quinn’s smile is the cutest shit he has ever seen. “Maybe so.”
*
In the truck, on the way there, Quinn is watching out the window. “So why is it your favorite?”
“Huh?”
“The Starbucks.” He looks to him across the console. “Why is it your favorite?”
“Oh.” Nando grins. “Well, okay. It’s, like, classic Arizona architecture, and—”
“Wait, you like it because of the architecture?” Quinn chuckles a little. “Are you Ben?”
“Jesus, baby, are you chirping me?” Nando jostles his arm, and Quinn laughs. “You’re a regular KMH member. I’m impressed.”
Quinn shrugs. “I suppose you’re finally rubbing off on me.”
“Wow.” Nando loves his boyfriend. “I’m honored. But FYI, I was only starting with the reasons I liked it.”
“Okay, continue, then.”
“Okay, so it has a lot of really nice outdoor seating.” Nando pauses. “It’s, like, near a shopping center, but it’s separate from the rest of the stores, so it’s not just some ugly spot. They always have the good cake pops, and plus, the manager is cool. They have blue hair and they wear a bunch of pride pins on their apron.”
“Okay.” Quinn nods, as Nando watches him process. Or at least sort of watches him, because he is, technically, still driving a vehicle, cute as the boy in the passenger’s seat may be. “That does sound like a good Starbucks.” He pauses. “What do you mean by the good cake pops?”
“Lemon ones,” he replies. “And chocolate. And, during Pride month, rainbow.”
“Oh my goodness.” Quinn closes his eyes, like he’s having a moment. “Now I’m craving a cake pop.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on our way there,” Nando replies, and he laughs.
It only takes a few more minutes to arrive. The parking lot is sort of crowded, but it doesn’t look like a mob scene, which is nice. Nando sees an empty table for two under a palm tree on the patio that has their name on it.
“Here we are,” he remarks, parking the truck across the lot from the door. “Our cake pops await.”
Quinn puts on his sunglasses. Their lenses are rose-gold and circular, and he looks criminally adorable in them. And also kind of super hot. That’s the thing about Quinn. He’s the cutest thing in the world and he’s also the source of literally all of Nando’s thirst. And he can turn on a dime. “I’m ready,” he tells him, combing back his hair. Already, with the past week in the sun, it’s gone a little lighter blond on the top. “I’ll have you know, my expectations are extremely high.”
“Oh, this won’t disappoint you,” Nando assures him. “I promise.”
They walk hand-in-hand across the parking lot, and Nando grabs the door for him. Inside is sweet air-conditioned bliss, and it smells like fresh-roasted coffee beans and the bakery case. Nando hasn’t been in here since Christmas break, and it’s been too long.
There’s a small line, but it won’t take more than a few minutes to get to the register. He tries to see who’s working, in case it’s Shai, but he can’t get a good look at the cashier, and there’s no sign of their blue mohawk among the baristas making the drinks.
Shai is actually, like, thirty, and possibly married, but they memorized his drink order in high school and always complimented him on his pride shirts, so they’re one of those older queer people Nando has just imprinted on. And, okay, yeah. He was totally excited to bring his boyfriend in here to meet them. It’s the little things.
Going around town with Quinn is like showing him off, and he has never been happier.
As they get in line, Quinn wraps his hand around his elbow, leaning into him. “It smells good in here,” he hums, with his head against his shoulder.
“I told you,” Nando replies, kissing his temple. “This is a magical place.”
He checks his phone, briefly, while they wait in line; he hasn’t actually looked at it since he woke up this morning. He has a few Snapchats in the cricket group chat, plus one from Nursey (he and Dex just got engaged, which, !!!!!!), and a separate text from Rhodey (it looks like he sent him a TikTok; Rhodey is obsessed with TikTok). He opens the cricket group, turns his front camera on, and snaps a selfie. Quinn is smiling with his cheek against his shoulder, and he himself looks like a little bit of a meme, but Quinn looks cute, so he saves it before he types the caption (coffee run y’all want anything) and sends it through.
In exactly twenty seconds, Rhodey replies. It’s a picture of himself in his work uniform— he delivers pizzas in Providence— and he’s flashing a peace sign at the camera. His hair is in a pink, blue, and yellow striped scrunchie. ya get me an americano. also yall are gay
Quinn snickers. “Well, I would sure hope so, Ben.”
Nando pockets his phone and hooks his arm around his neck. “Super gay.”
Quinn leans into his shoulder. “Mm.” He nods. “The gayest.”
They move forward a spot in line, then another. In fact, they move forward three entire spots without incident. Quinn is humming some showtune— it’s from Spring Awakening; he recognizes it— and Nando is keeping his eyes peeled for Shai, or at least someone he knows. Look at me! I’m in love and I’m happy.
But then God says, be careful what you wish for.
Because as they move into the spot where they’re up next to order, he catches the sound of the cashier’s voice. “... and can I get a name for the order?”
All of the life leaves Nando’s body.
“Holly? Great.” The voice is nasally, and a little artificially cheerful. He hasn’t heard it— outside of a few drunk voicemails— in over two years, but it evokes a visceral reaction in him. He feels sick, all of a sudden. “That’ll be right up.”
He must be tense all of a sudden, because Quinn peers up at him. “Sebastián?” he asks, and what a difference between two voices. “Are you alright?”
He tries to take a deep breath. “I, um.” He pauses. “I think we have to leave.”
“Next customer, please?”
“Leave?” Quinn squints. “But we’re next!”
The people in front of them step to the side counter, and Nando sputters too long. “We, uh—”
But when the way is clear, it’s too late. “Sebby!”
Nando wants to die.
“Holy shit!” Nate has a different haircut, and a Starbucks apron, but otherwise he’s the same— the same pasty pale skin, the same bony stature, the same face so easily twisted into a scowl. Right now, though, he’s smiling, which, honestly, is an expression that looks alien on him, based on Nando’s memory. “You didn’t tell me you were home from school!”
What he wants to say is, Nate, why the fuck would I tell you I was home from school, but what he does say is, “Uh, hi.”
He is going to cringe himself to death. He’s been home for no less than six days, and he is already running into his ex with his boyfriend.
When did he start working here?
“It’s been forever!” As Nate keeps on this weirdly cordial tangent, Nando feels Quinn still next to him. Quinn knows vaguely what Nate looks like, but what he knows better is the way he used to act, and the fact that he used to call him Sebby. Also, he’s wearing a nametag. And Nando feels as stiff as a board. “How’ve you been?”
Very carefully, Quinn unwinds his arm from his, and takes a firm, obvious grip on his hand.
“Jeez, I keep trying to reach out to you,” Nate continues, like they’re old friends running into each other, and not exes with a toxic history. “We really should catch up sometime, now that you’re in town.”
Nando takes a long breath, like it’ll fix the tension in his chest. He squeezes at Quinn’s hand, which helps a little. Quinn leads when they step up to the counter, and he inhales like he wants to order, but Nate is still fucking going. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.
“Boyfriend,” Quinn blurts, in his I’m pissed and I mean business voice, which, thank God for this boy. “I’m his boyfriend.”
Nate raises his eyebrows a little, looking at Quinn like he’s a five-year-old having a tantrum. “Oh,” he says, shrugging. “My bad. Although, I should’ve known.” Nate’s eyes dart to him for a second, and Nando wants to scrub himself clean of that gaze. “He tends to go for the little guys,” Nate continues, to Quinn, gesturing between the two of them like he’s comparing their heights. Then he shrugs again. “Gotta balance it out, y’know?”
Nando’s stomach turns. It stings, so much, and as soon as this is out of Nate’s mouth he feels Quinn squeeze his hand so hard it’s like he intends to break bones. He squeezes right back, and God, he knows it’s cruel and unnecessary and shouldn’t bother him, and it’s been almost three fucking years since he had to deal with Nate, but it still hurts. It hurts just as much as every comment like that did from him. It sends him back to memories of hating and second-guessing himself, and he just. He feels so fucking humiliated.
Quinn takes a very long breath, his eyes on Nate, while he digests this, and then he says, “Can I get a peach green tea, please.” He pauses, still squeezing the circulation out of his hand, and it is the only thing keeping Nando from tearing up. Which is pathetic. But he’s just. It hurts. “And he’ll have a—”
“Mocha frappe. Yeah. I know.” Nate chuckles a little, already grabbing a cup. “Extra whip, right?”
Quinn bristles, face flushing, and finally, Nando finds his voice. “Actually,” he says, “no.” Because even though that was what he was going to order, he doesn’t want to give Nate the satisfaction of thinking he still knows him that well. His Starbucks order may be the same, but there’s so much about him that’s changed since Nate knew him. So much about him that’s better now. Without him. He orders his second favorite. “An iced vanilla latte.” And then, because even though he really doesn’t feel like being polite to him, he feels like Mama might manifest in this Starbucks and kick his ass if he doesn’t say it, he adds, “Please.”
“Hm, my mistake,” Nate says, with a shrug, as he’s writing on the two cups. “I guess you’re a new man, Sebby. We really should catch up.” Quinn’s death grip intensifies, because he knows how much Nando cannot stand being called that. He brings his other hand back to wrap around his elbow, too, like he’s being protective, and Nando has never been more grateful for him.
“Anyway, that’ll be right up.” Nate looks so unbothered, just the way he always did, years ago, when he’d make a comment that left Nando’s self-esteem reeling for days afterward. “I guess I don’t really need your name for the order, huh?”
He’s writing on the cup, and Nando can’t see— or just doesn’t want to— but Quinn must be able to, because he says, “His name is Sebastián.”
Nate raises his eyebrows. “Ooh, feisty.” And of course Quinn sounds mad— but Nate making fun of him will do nothing but add more fuel to the fire. Nate looks to him, past Quinn entirely, and adds, “Does he speak for you all the time like this, or—?”
Nando wants to melt into the floor. “Just give us our total, Nate,” he says, because the faster they can get out of here, the better. Quinn is bristling next to him, but stays quiet. 
Nate sighs, shrugs a little, and punches into the cash register. “If you say so,” he says, then announces, “6.23.”
And he thinks that’s going to be the end, but then, as he’s handing over his card, Nate keeps fucking talking. “Oh!” he says, still all faux-fake. “Sebby, you should take him to the lake. Remember, when we’d go down there in high school?”
Quinn’s grip on him tightens. This transaction cannot process fast enough. “We had a lot of fun,” Nate says, like he’s reminiscing. “Always did. It’s a shame; I feel like we never really had closure.”
Finally, finally, after what feels like a million years, he hands his card back, and Nando pockets it in a hurry. “C’mon,” he says to Quinn, because he cannot stand here for one more second, and as they walk away, Nate calls after them.
“Hey, give me a shout sometime!” He’s doing the fake-smile thing again. “We should really hang out, now that you’re in town again.”
Nando squeezes his eyes shut and takes a tight breath; he didn’t realize it before, but it’s hard to breathe. He feels sick and humiliated and awful, and when they’re far enough away to be out of earshot, he looks to Quinn and whispers, “Baby, I am so sorry.”
Quinn is surprisingly calm, at least in comparison to his clear irritation at the register. He shakes his head and rubs his arm with the free hand that’s not holding his. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I just—” He wants to melt. “I had no idea he started working here; I haven’t even seen him since before freshman year, and it just— like, it figures, right—”
“Sebastián,” Quinn says, and his even voice pulls Nando out of his head. “I’m going to get our drinks, and then we can get out of here, okay?”
Nando lets all his breath out at once, then nods. “I— yeah. Okay. That’s— perfect. I’m sorry, baby.”
“Do not be sorry.” Quinn rises on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. “None of that was your fault.”
Quinn seems surprisingly collected for someone who was just ignored and insulted a minute ago, and Nando has this feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s planning something, some kind of revenge— but what could he do, with Nate just working?
They station themselves against the wall by the pick-up counter, and it isn’t lost on Nando how touchy Quinn is being— not that they’d hold back in public for any reason in general, but he’s definitely going the extra mile right now, rubbing the inside of his elbow and leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his hand all at once. Not only is the touch grounding; Nando is also fully aware that Quinn is trying to rub it in Nate’s face should he glance over from his spot behind the counter.
Which, good. Let him fucking stare if he wants to. Nando hasn’t felt that humiliated in a long time.
And he hates that he let it hurt him, that one stupid comment— but it was such a reminder of worse times, times when he’d have to process things like that from the person who was supposed to be his partner all the time, and it was just. It was always hard, and it was always awful, and being with Quinn has helped him work so much on all of that. Quinn taught him, so early on, that he deserved better. Everything with Quinn is better.
He just focuses on holding Quinn’s hand for a minute, until Nate puts their drinks out at the pick-up counter. “Stay here, honey,” Quinn tells him, squeezing his hand before he unwinds his fingers from it. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Nando replies, and watches him go.
Quinn squares his shoulders, takes a short breath, and walks to the counter. Nando is suddenly very aware that something might be about to happen. He leans against the wall and listens in, as he watches Quinn take the two drinks from across the counter.
He’s right. Quinn looks Nate dead in the eye and says, “Hi, could I just remind you of something?”
Oh my God. Nando widens his eyes. Is Quinn about to chew him out?
Nate says nothing, but looks unamused, and Quinn continues. “You broke up with him,” Nando hears him say. “After you cheated on him, by the way. Just in case you forgot.” Nate raises his eyebrows, but stays silent. Quinn is reeling now, and there’s no stopping him. “And I happen to know an awful lot about the way you treated him, and how much that hurt him, so don’t you dare try to act so friendly, like you didn’t break him.” Nando is frozen in place, as Quinn picks up both of the drinks. “He owes you nothing. He clearly does not want to reconnect with you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to do that either with someone who did nothing but make me feel awful about myself for two years.” Quinn isn’t even making a scene— the only reason Nando can hear what he’s saying is because he’s not standing that far away— but Jesus Christ, if this isn’t the most satisfying thing to witness in the world. Nate is red in the face and absolutely silent, and Quinn is staring daggers at him; if looks could kill, he’d be dead on sight. “If you wanted to be his friend, maybe you shouldn’t have stomped all over his heart.”
Nando cannot believe his ears.
“And,” Quinn adds, like it’s the end of a big monologue, “I’m going to need two straws.”
Nando is so in love with this boy.
He watches, trying not to smile or even laugh, as Nate fumbles into the thing of straws and shoves two in Quinn’s direction. Quinn takes them, flashes a big, stage smile, and says, “Thank you!” before he turns and walks back in Nando’s direction.
The fake smile turns self-satisfied in a second flat, as he meets Nando’s eyes again. Nando is still kind of frozen, but he wants to kiss him, right in the middle of Starbucks.
All he can say is, “Baby.”
Quinn is all smiles. He looks the way he does when he comes out of the stage door after a great show. “Ready to go, honey?”
“Am I ever,” Nando says, and they join hands again as they head for the door. He’s not sure if Quinn knows that he heard what he said. “That… was kind of the most satisfying thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”
“Oh,” Quinn replies as he sticks his straw into his iced tea, “trust me, Sebastián. It’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done as long as I can remember.” He pauses, as he takes a sip, and then adds, “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I can even say.”
“It was hot,” he says, because, well, it was. “And just… jeez, I— maybe something good did come out of this situation.”
“Of course it did,” Quinn replies. His smile is kind of maniacal, and Nando is into it. “I got to have the confrontation of my dreams, and I got an iced tea.” He holds up his drink. “Cheers!”
Nando bumps his vanilla coffee against it and laughs. “Cheers, baby.”
Quinn squeezes his hand. They walk back outside into the summer day, and Nando doesn’t look back.
Not even a glance.
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lastcrystalwitch · 3 years
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Feeling Guilty Taking Time for Myself
When there are many things that need to get done, sometimes it seems like I am looking at a to-do list that is never going to end. I attempt to run around the house, studious and determined, to meet the day with expectations that I will have a cleaner house vs. the mess that it was previously in. I just need to remind myself that doing a little bit every day will get me to the cleanliness level that I am so desperately searching for.
I grew up middle-upper class. My mother was a house wife, and took great pride in keeping the house clean. Even if I go over there now it is spotless.
This means I grew up with a discipline system that when you made a mess, you were criticized, punished, or scrutinized. Needless to say, it is ingrained in me that success comes from being clean, neat and tidy. When dishes aren't piled in the sink, there will be no excuse for bugs to take up residence. When I lived in Arizona in with an ex who liked to have parties and friends over who never picked up after themselves, forced me to deal with infestations of cockroaches. Much to my horror and the irreverence of my ex-husband and his roommate who left pizza boxes half way piled to the ceiling. Not only was I unappreciated, but I was busy. I worked two jobs and went to school full time, paying most of the rent and paying for my college and his. I put him through school. I wonder if he ever got off his entitled ass and put in the hard work and got his degree? I was not respected, appreciated, and my needs were never put first unless I put them first.
2012 was a horror show.
I have lived in filth, much to my dismay and been completely out of my control from people moving in animals who had fleas, and possibly parvo, and have payed over a grand fixing my mom's house infested with fleas because of other people who brought their pets over my house and infected my pets. I have been the one, time and time again, to self sacrifice myself to help others, fix others problems, clean up their messes. Now that I am older, and wiser, I am learning what it is that makes me tick. And for me its unacceptable for others not to help out.
But I have to change. I have to be able to tell others that they have to help instead of just expecting them to pick up a broom and get to work. I just don't want to sound like a nagging person. But I realize that others simply don't have the same priorities that I do. And this is a difficult pill to swallow, kind of. Never assume that someone knows how you feel. How can they? People can't read minds. You can read a room. You can read someone's body language. But unless you let them tell you what the hell is going on inside their head, you can only assume. And circular thoughts of assumptions lead to misunderstandings. Lack of communication period will break up a relationship.
I need to get better at saying what I want. What I need, and what I expect. That is what has made trouble in the past with roommates. I just have such an ungodly fear of hurting other people's feelings. A real fear that is as real for me as a natural disaster is real to the residences of that area. This debilitating fear of rejection, and fear of disappointing others can no longer be an excuse for me not to move forward with growing as an individual. And self reflection takes a lot of time. It takes a lot of work. But if we never strive to get better ... we never will.
But I've had only 25% control of the cleanliness of my house so far. With myself usually being the only person who cleans out of the 4 people who used to be there, its easy to feel out of control, hopeless, constantly stepping on wires, dirt, dust, and trash and dirt absolutely out of control. I was the only person cleaning routinely for the past 2 years basically. No one else seems to put cleanliness as a priority except for me. It simply felt like no one cared. And I thought no one cared on purpose. That they didn't care about me. I thought that since the house was never cleaned, it was all up to me.
But at what cost?
Its possible to keep a spotless home, or at the very least a tidy home, but everyone has to be on board.
Oh. And did I mention? My house has been a construction zone for the past two years with people constantly moving in and out of it. I helped purchase the house, but I have had zero control over the residents.
I grew up with a manipulative narrsacistic mother, a misunderstood dad who was never there because he was always at work, and a single brother who turned to bullying as a way to deal with what he was going through growing up. There were always feelings of I am not good enough. I am not a good enough student. I am not a good enough daughter. I was always trying to please others, and dealt with more mental abuse than you can shake a stick at. Its enough that I wrote journal after journal so I'd never forget about the unfairness exacted on me, horrific stories that would make you want to put your fist through the wall.
The bullying and constantly being told that my emotions and thoughts were wrong, and then told how I should be thinking, forced me into thoughts that self harm and mutilation is acceptable. Its really not okay to be treated that way. Because if I'm not doing something right I should be punished. I have since identified this as an irrational thought. But this was just a dip into my past reality. No one can ever scream at me and abuse me the way that I have done to myself. Because I expect it now. Before, I was okay with that. That was normal for me.
When I GTFO of my moms house in 2007, she called the cops on me because she thought, correctly, that I was running away. For me, it always takes someone else who cares about me, to tell me, no. The way that your mom treated you was wrong. My friends have told me, previous boyfriends, and even their entire families have told me what an abusive dysfunctional family I have suffered through as I was raised.
You know what makes me laugh? My mom is so caught up in herself that she cannot see how she's hurt me. She tells me that my previous boyfriends manipulated me and brainwashed me into thinking that she was the bad guy. Which wasn't true. I ran because I needed to get the hell out of toxicity at any cost or I was going to cut too deep one day and that would have been the end of it. Had I stayed in that situation. There was so much injustice that I was suffering, that when my chance came to not only get a college degree and move forward with my own life, I took it. Moving out in the middle of the night, not telling my mom where I was going. Getting married so that I could put myself through college, which I did. Taking my favorites with me and gaining guardianship of my best friend who was 16, and moving her out of a toxic situation as well. I picked everyone up that I cared about, and with the three grand that I had saved from working Monday-Friday since I was 15, I took others with me. I helped others start their life over. I helped give myself and others, that second chance that they were so desperately in need of. I saved a life. And I will never take that back or change my mind that leaving the best decision that I ever made in my life.
With one roommate out the door for new beginnings, and the second one about to venture off on great adventures, I will have only two weeks to have the house to myself for the first time since I bought it two years ago. My life partner and I will be alone in the house with just our pets, and dreams. I am greatly looking forward to it.
I plan to clean the house spotless before his family moves back in with us, two weeks after everyone has left. Honestly though I am very excited to have his family stay with us. His sister is super smart, retired Navy, and has a brilliant mind that is second to none. Her husband is a happy go lucky go getter that doesn't mind sacrificing a day to help me go run errands. He is able to keep most of the things on my list in his head, and its amazing because this means that I'm not forgetting a butt ton at the store. Their daughter is a cunning little angel. She's super smart. 4? I think?
I'd really like to take them to a park once it warms up and do some professional photos for them. They have a beautiful family! And some of the kindest coolest people I've ever met.
His sister is interesting to talk to. She has a mindset that is very different than mine, and very logical based, where I have a very intuition based mindset. She illuminates points of view, that are refreshing, feministic, and not selfish, but thinking of yourself first, which is what I am trying to work on.
My brother in law once told me I needed to stop being passive aggressive. I'm working on that.
I think his sister is a very good role model for me, and I look up to her because my brain is always flooded with how I can take care of everyone else, and while she has a kind heart and good morals, she always looks out for herself and family first. This is different than what I do, which I'd like to change. Because It is difficult for me to think of myself first at all. Except the bare minimum.
For people like me, I have heard, it can be difficult to relax. It can be easy to get overwhelmed because I flood my brain with a list of tasks half a mile long, and think of others worries more so than my own. My old way of thinking was, if I make them happy, and help solve their issues, they'll be happy and that will make me happy. But this is a flawed way of thinking I am realizing.
Don't judge me. We all learn life lessons at different times in our lives. I have had a lifetime of poor inner thought process that I finally feel like I have the tools I need for self recovery, and reprogramming my brain.
It has been a hard past year. Many, many dramatic changes, heart break, and suffering. Many many tears have been shed, bonds have been strengthened, people have been pushed to learn lessons they haven't learned yet either. Not just me. We've all changed. We've all grown. The difference between me and everyone else is, I'm ready to become a better version of myself through self reflection, not succumbing to negative self talk, but shaping my mind to be more positive instead of me just mentally putting myself down. I'm using tools like, meditation, exercise, positive self talk, gratitude, routine, spending time with myself for myself, music, writing out thoughts, and getting enough sleep, which I aim for 7 hours a night. Sometimes I make it sometimes I don't.
But these are the tools that anyone can use to help them feel better and improve themselves. I highly recommend using these tools which when you realize that if you take care of yourself and listen to your inner voice, and take control of your feelings ... it's the recipe for happiness.
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thewnchstrs · 5 years
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it’s that time of the month again!
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Dean X Reader
The Witness(part 1): you’re witness to a murder committed by a flying broomstick. the police don’t believe you, but two handsome FBI agents that show up to your door seem to be more open-minded | @thewhitejournal
Wildest Dreams: she works in diner and he’s constantly traveling. After meeting he can’t seem to stay away away from her. | @spidey-babe-parker
Professional Environment: you’ve had the hots for your boss, Dean Winchester, since day one. You always do your very best to please him in any way possible. What happens when one day, you don’t? | @teddybeardoctorr
Trust: you are in need of help and your first choice is two people who don’t like you. | @lonelyandlovelorn
Rescue You: my name is Y/N. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me. | @jay-and-dean
Fighting For a Future: Y/N help Dean contain Michael in his head. they now share a soul, but Y/N has pushed Dean away. Can Dean fight her stubborn streak? or will they lose their fight before they can even begin? | @flamencodiva​
Deal. | @bad268
Don’t Go Changing: it was never supposed to end up like this. You find out the truth about Dean Winchester. | @sunlightdances
Hurricane: with one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ensure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. | @angelkurenai​
Abandoned: Dean is forced to be a single father after the reader left them. Three years later she shows up out of no where.| @i-write-about-anything​
Supernatural Series Rewrites | @adorable-dean-winchester
Ride With Me: alternate universe (AU) in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona, owned by Bobby Singer and his wife Ellen, to gain work experience. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. | @katehuntington
When Your Past Comes Knocking: a demon hunt goes bad and the boys learn something about your past. | @vicmc624
Cheater, Cheater: Y/N and the boys go on an unusual hunt. | @okayhowmuchforthearm
Old Love, New Love: it’s been four years since Dean Winchester broke her heart, now that he has to work with her, how will old feelings resurface? | @mypassionsarenysins
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Sam X Reader
Please... | @georgialouisea​
Stay With Me: Sam wants you to stay and of course you agree, but with Dean and hunting, can you really? | @multifandomaestheticsblog​
Good: Sam’s having a hard day. Reader makes it better. | @slytherkins
Life: The Game | @missmarrinette
Secrets: a drunken night with your boyfriend, his brother and your best friend ends in a lot of your secrets getting out | @supernotnaturalcas
Adjustments: hiding an illness isn’t easy, especially when you’re still learning about it. | @kittenofdoomage
Crossing Parallel Lines: after searching through hundreds of lore books and wanting to go on an a new adventure, the reader accidentally ends up somewhere she never expected and with people she never expected to meet! | @swiftlymoniquesblog
Lean on Me | @deansmyapplepie
Nightmare: after waking up from a nightmare, you and the Winchesters head out to help another hunter. | @crispychrissy
Sleepy Confessions | @team-free-will-oneshots
Three’s a Crowd: you are the girl Sam lives with between s7 and 8 and you are happy together until Dean shows up and forces you to leave. | @supernatural---imagines
In the Studio | @spn-and-daddy-issues
Marriage Mishaps: the Reader and Sam find out about some shocking news that could affect their relationship. | @syven-siren​
Thunderstruck: what happens when the reader comes into contact with Amara? | @fandomoneshots-imagines
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Cas X Reader
Winter’s Eye: season 13 canon tells you how AU!Castiel’s story ends, this is how it begins. The deranged and damaged iteration of Castiel we met in the apocalypse universe - an obedient soldier to Michael’s cause barely in control of his vessel’s frayed and erratically firing nerves whose inherent kindness toward humankind appeared entirely obliterated - wasn’t always an unfeeling angelic weapon of interrogation. Once, he sympathized with the plight of humans; one, he loved. | @webcricket​
The Memory Remains: Y/N’s memory had been erased, but a car crash brings more pain than just the physical. | @iwantthedean​
Sharing a Bed | @spilledkauffie​
Cat Got Your Tongue?: Castiel x male reader headcanon for each of them bringing an animal home w/o the other one knowing? Reader brings a corgi, Cas brings a cat? | @just--another--daydreamer 
Paint Cans | @sauntered-vaguely-downward​
Small One: Cas takes care of his newborn Nephilim daughter. | @alexwritessupernatural​
Roman Holiday: Sam and Dean have been making you feel small and unimportant lately, like more of a hindrance than a help. When you leave to spend some time on your own and nurse your wounded feelings, your favorite angel shows up to ease your mind and heart by accompanying you on an off-the-cuff vacation. | @shittyelfwriter​
Alone Time: when the boys head out on a hunt, you decide to have some relaxation time. | @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​
You Okay? | @fictionalabyss​
Snap Crackle Pop: Introducing Cas to pop rocks | @swlbarnes​
Lebanon: After bringing your dad back with the pearl, many things were changed in the timeline. You find your husband, Cas, but he doesn’t remember you. Based on 14x13. | @supervengerslock​
Beautiful: An insecure Castiel shows reader his wings for the first time | @dabakook101​
Sharing is Caring: You and Castiel share a bed…and a little more. | @fanfic-scribbles​
Other Pairings
One and One Make Three: Friends are always there for you. Through the good times and the bad. After a night out with two of your best friends, catching up and celebrating the end of a chapter, you can’t help but wondering what lies ahead for you in the next. Start a family like Jared? Find another acting job like Jensen would? Little do you know, your best friend is harboring a huge secret and one decision was about to change your life forever. |  Jensen X Reader | @supernatural-jackles
Piercings: Sam and Dean let their younger sister get another piercing, and are a little surprised by her choice. | Winchester!Sister | @to-write-ornah
Chuck Tailors: Chuck is a custom tailor and is making the suits for the groomsmen in cousin Castiel’s wedding. When two strapping men walk into his shop, he can’t help but hope he might make more than just a suit for one of them | Dean X Chuck | @atc74
Fade Into You | Jensen X Reader | @sinatrababyy
Back To Sleep: Jared arrives home after filming and the only thing on his mind is you. | Jared X Reader | @princessmisery666​
Delirium: After one too many sleepless nights, a certain Nephilim begins to grow concerned for Y/N. | Jack X Reader | @just-imagine-1​
Demon Dean: The Mark of Cain has turned Dean into a demon and Sam and the reader try to save him. | Winchester!Sister | @winchestergirl23​
Dying of a Broken Heart: Jensen says something to hurt the woman he loves and he will do anything to fix his mistake. | Jensen X Reader | @pecanpieandgreeneyes85
Non-Pairings
No Second Chances: Y/N and Sam try to save Dean from the Mark of Cain, and Dean is not too happy about it | @winchester-books​
Fandom Letter From Castiel, School Struggles | @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2​
Sibling Jealousy: Reader has known the Winchesters for a long time, almost two years before Cas entered their lives. After that, since Reader was the only one actually teaching the angel about humanity customs and stuff like that, properly, they developed a closer relationship, on the parent-kid way. But it was never verbally acknowledged. Now, with Lucifer’s child on the way, life stabs some sense and realizations onto Reader, but there’s no time for feelings in this house | @no-te-lo-voy-a-dar
Death Isn’t The End | @foreverwayward
Imagines
Imagine being best friends with Jared, Jensen and Misha | @thwiso​
Imagine you’re Sam’s lover and you’re standing face to face with Lucifer who possessed him a long time ago | @istigatorawrites
Imagine stargazing with Rowena | @multifandomfix​
Imagine being in love with Dean but being told Cas is your soulmate | @writing-of-an-angel​
Imagine meeting Sam at a book store | @writtenwinchester
SPN headcanons | @dolly-face03
Being Lucifer’s child and meeting Sam and Dean Winchester would include... | @lotsoffandomimagines
Imagine playing with Sam’s hair when you’re bored | @dumbbitchenergy17
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FOREVER TAG LIST
@spnbaby-67 | @octo-cow52 | @luciferslucille | @anti-social-club | @search-bar | @mellorine-paprika | @thepocketshoelace | @jaremish | @the-salty-asian | @the-hufflepuff-hunter | @robynannemackenzie-blog | @mersuperwholocked-lowlife | @lilreethi | @find-sammys-shoe |  @caswinchester2000 | @damnedimpala | @thelittlestwinchestersister | @lauren-novak | @adeanmon | @tmiships4life | @spnficgirl
DEAN TAG LIST
@mccartneywinchester | @resanoona
WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST
@resanoona | @mccartneywinchester | @bunnyandy12 | @breereadsthings | @slytherinrising
219 notes · View notes
Viper’s Vengeance Chapter 3: Peril Among the Stars
Chapter 1
So, its been almost six months since I updated this story. Primus it feels like so long ago. I had so much going on in my life, I’m happy this is over, now I can start working on the next chapter!
~
Ten years since the incident. Program updating, systems operational, protocols online, activation, begin. The eternal darkness ended for the longest time. A figure stood there, bearing a skull for a face. Scanners indicating an unrecognizable soldier. Not of any origin. The prototype stared, a life hidden behind black glass, leaving worry in the samurai. Bludgeon stepped back, pointing a katana's tip at the symbol on the failure's chest.
“State your designation.” The mech ordered, leaving confusion on the Rattler.
No reply, instead, the machine pushed the sword away and walked towards the exit. The skeleton sneered, noticing the warnings going off all around them. “Alert, unknown enemy detected, alert.” Said in such calmness that didn't seem to care.
“You'd better prove yourself whatever your name is. I don't want to return to base with a defect for spare parts!” That seemed to trigger something in the dark blue mech's systems, and off he ran...
“Viper?” Her voice broke the processor's glitch. Viper blinked a few times, turning to face her. “Are you sure you're okay here? I do remember that your processor acts up in certain locations.” She reminded, glancing at the lights bringing the place back up into operation.
“This is where Cobra sealed me after my malfunction. Ten years after that, Luca revealed this location to Megatron. He grew impatient of the human's failures, so the human spat out this. Bludgeon found me right as an Autobot got too close to the area. Took care of Sideswipe, which was all that bone face needed to prove that I was worth the time.” Viper walked past the femme and towards a large machine. “Here, this is where my new life began.” The mech gave a swift kick, then tearing apart the rest of the stasis pod.
The femme ninja listened to the denting metal and shattering glass. Standing still as this continued for a bit. Yellow optics took notice of the interior, finding old forgotten machinery. No wonder Cobra dumped their failed prototype here. What was the first mission she took on in the Earth Wars? Ah yes, when she had to face Arcee who hid secret codes. Far simpler times, before the Prime Cores, Demigods, Deathsarus, GI Joe, and Cobra. Such insanity in a few short years. That voice in her helm kept repeating that confession, yet, she couldn't say. Why is it so difficult to talk?
She waited until Viper finished crushing the stasis machine apart. His wings flared, back hunched over. The snake got up, turning to face her. “I'm better now, sorry about that, there are some things I never want to see active again.” Viper trailed off, heading over to a big computer. “In this, it houses the answers I am seeking. From what I can know, this system has a lot of Cobra plans and projects. Bludgeon insisted that we leave this place soon so I could meet Megatron. I couldn't uncover its secrets at that moment. I want to know why Cobra created me, it's impossible for someone to come up with an insane idea. A whole organization going along with it. A robot soldier wearing the shell of a Rattler.” His bulky digits pressed on the small keyboard, being careful to ensure not to break the source of his past.
Words scrolled by which showed so many forgotten ideas. Nightbird listened to the swearing before tugging him aside. Then she typed it out herself. “I'll handle this, I'm used to tiny keys.” The Japanese fembot interjected, finding it to be easier for her to do this. Odd, nothing on Viper, yet the name Rattler and Transformer did appear a few times.
After a bit of digging around, a file appeared with top secret reports. The two read through them, both taking it all in. How could the American government know so much about Cybertronian technology? Its documentation came thirty years before the Autobots and Decepticons arrived to Earth. It didn't make any sense, nor the live specimen documented. The identity lost, making it difficult to guess who would give up their body for them to research.
Viper took a while to say anything, left in silence over all the materials they read. “Those documents, they must've been the blueprints Cobra used to create me... Nightbird, can you find anything about who wrote this?” He whispered, optics glued to the screen as they found a picture file.
A bunch of humans, all posed by a piece of machinery that appeared advanced for the time based on their clothes. Some men and women, all in Triple-I: Intelligence and Information Institute. Nightbird typed around a few files, noticing how their names appeared.
“I recognize some of them from my collected memories, and all their names are in the files. They're the ones behind how Cobra created you.” She trailed off, yellow optics glanced at the dark blue mech. He stared at the humans in their thirty year old days.
“Do you know where they are now?” Viper came up to the screen, taking in the details.
“A quick search on the internet gave me everything I needed, oh how clumsy they are to use this 'social media'. I assume this was a long forgotten program, happened in North Dakota, August 16th, 1986. No one knows of this as they retired from the military. All this time, America had access to those of the stars. Why do you ask?”
“I may have killed my creators, but knowing this, I cannot let more of me be born by their hands. I'm not yet done with my thirst for revenge. Nightbird, I'd suggest you go back with the others. There's a high risk that I will die once this task is complete. All hiding in America and other parts, they forget, not knowing that their pasts will haunt them once again.” The mech copied the data, making the best route based on where the humans live. They'll all pay for their foolishness. Their thirst for eternal knowledge will destroy them.
Nightbird held his shoulder, her optics narrowed. “Its not easy to complete a task solo. I'll come along, you've already shown me your second birthplace. Before you complain about how I can't because of the water, I'll find my ways. Where are you heading first?”
“Los Palmos Observatory, located in Texas close to Mexico. Two of the scientists at the Triple I worked at North Dakota. They wrote a bit about Cybertronians ability to travel through the stars. Nothing too major, but its a start. Think your tires can handle that? Its farther than from here back to base at Arizona.” He chuckled, wings twitching and ready to leave this trash heap.
“Sounds good, will meet you there when I can. Take care Viper, we're going to be dancing with death soon.” She flipped her body, transforming and driving out of the hidden base.
Why is she so intent on helping him? All the dark blue jet knew is that he's the only Cybertronian created by humans. Viper waited till she's far away to dim the computer's screen. He turned to stare at the scar embedded into his helmet and face. Primus he felt tired, unsure what to think knowing how right she is. Its a suicide mission to enrage the American government and the Autobots, but this has to happen. Taking a few deep vents, the mech connected a few cables to his helmet and lied down. Gotta leave one last present to those who documented the creation...
Data, so many pieces swirled around the unconscious mind. Downloading into his helm, awakening those old memories that most forgot. Humanity stole the gift of those from the stars. Living aliens, mastering the ability to change shape. Documenting entire histories far before the first man sharpened a rock. Yet, as Viper continued this, strange images began to form. Among them, the complete blueprints of the Rattler Transforming Soldier. Bright blue optics widened, noticing something wrong. It has no face underneath the visor and mouthplate... The Decepticon stared, before touching his own mouthplate and broken visor. The dates don't add up, these can't be the complete ones! He stared before deleting the information once its registered into his helm.
After a while going through the tediousness, its over now. Viper forced his processor out of this self inflicted slumber. Now no one can look up those old documents anymore. No human deserves to know the existence of Cybertronian life, not if they gave birth to imitations. Those who are fakes, that shamed upon. Yet, that empty face remained etched into his optics. More questions came than answers, leaving the mech in silence. As the snake got out of his forced slumber, he noticed an acid gun lying by his side. The same weapon left behind after Cobra's demise. Fingers touched the aged metal, knowing how good it is to wield this old weapon once more. Must've been a gift from Nightbird, who seemed to get it all fixed up. “Canary, I'll figure out why you hide so much from me.” Came a chuckle, before he got out of the old place once again.
Back in the harsh sunlight, why is the western coast so darn hot? No wonder there isn't that much greenery around here. Why couldn't the Decepticons set up a base somewhere nice? Rather than the remains of human activity. Still, the images he saw made his tanks clench. How could those blueprints show no face? Processor in a daze, forgetting Nightbird as she drove beneath him. They traveled across the shadows of the canyons once leaving civilization. So many lives passing by, children at a school, people buying at stores, watching movies. Oh the movies; such strange concepts that Cybertronians never got into until the war. Easiest way to document any traitors or secret plans. That's from what he recalled listening to the others when they got overcharged off their afts.
Oh what fun times to hear the cheery voices that everyone gave out after a successful raid. Also when a new bot comes over from wherever. Moon, Earth, any planet, depends on if they're liked among the others to care. Why is Earth such a gathering place for these guys? There are other planets too, yet they stay on what they called the 'dirtball'. Viper never felt right to call his home the dirtball. This planet is where his creators got the materials to create him. The mech exhaled, noticing how the Sun began to set. The yellow sphere that rotates around this planet. Cybertron didn't have any light up above, nor any oxygen. Three moons which the Autobots claimed as their own. The Rattler remembered how happy he felt to be on the metal moon, that its the home far away from home. Due to their technology, both could move across the deserts further than a regular car on a road trip. The suburban family riding out to somewhere like Palm Springs or Las Vegas.
It took a long time to travel from California to Texas. Baking in the hot sun never helped his mood as music kept playing from his radio. A lot of Spanish songs, getting closer to the border. What a strange choice for an advanced observatory's location, but no matter what. They'll be the first to pay for their crimes. Down below, a stylish black and white car drove on the road. Nightbird is quite durable, but that makes sense for everyone. Cybertronians are able to handle the heat. Viper’s quite lucky that he won’t have to endure any pain in the Summer warmth. Still nothing back from Megatron or the rest of his soldiers. Its good, no reason to worry as he must’ve taken the request for a break for granted. Never easy to obliterate an entire army by oneself. The rest of the flight is a blank, with the dust devils coming and going. Once the mission is over, he’ll try to visit Tijuana to eat some barbecued iguana. Whatever that may taste like.
The misery ended in the night sky’s greeting. A lone observatory lay still, lens continuing to observe what may be out there. Los Palmos has seen better days, forgotten to the world beyond the science community. Hiding a sin, that desire to find life beyond the Earth. Two life forms detected in the scanners, the files state for them to be Jack and Sue Richards. Two astronomers who’ve spent long lives exploring across the world. To the most exotic places for the greatest lens to observe the distant nebulae. Before their journeys, they accepted being members of the Triple I, which meant a piece of his birth. Los Palmos is their home, far up in the mountains that could show much more of the desert had the sun blessed them.
Viper landed on the rocky top, bright blue optics stared for a long time. His turbines slowed down to reduce the heavy noises. Acid gun clenched in a firm hold. So, this is how revenge grows, to slaughter them, their work is the reason he grew in the Cobra’s nest. To awaken as an abomination, there is nothing left they can give to the Earth that will matter. Time’s left them old and weak. No matter how old or young, its time to never return from the path he once stepped on. Their intense craving will be their undoing, thirty years later.
Sue finished another cup of coffee, heavy bags underneath those brown eyes. Weary eyes glanced up to the old photographs of so many places she once been to. Jack is nearby, back to work on their favorite machinery. A telescope meant their lives, the reason Triple I came to them with their suggestions. To work with them for extra payment and free vacations, oh how perfect it seemed to be. Until that one day… Sue waited for the drink to kick in, an influence rushing through weakened veins. No longer a thought about what may come next, unless it’d be an old family member or friend. Their nephew, an old photo showed said child gripping a diploma while enveloped in blues. “Its been a good life, hasn’t it Jack?”
A man stepped away from the large telescope, coming down to her. “Are you thinking about the Grim Reaper again?”
“Why would I dream of a snake bearing those dark ominous robes?”
“Sue, you should cut the caffeine out, the doc did say it’ll influence your medication.”
“But, we still need to record a few more sights. Los Palmos is our home. I miss those days, and I wished we never got involved with Triple I. To know that aliens exist, to hide that from everyone.” The woman trailed off, taking a large gulp. A nearby candle burned among the heavy lights above which gave light to this dark dome. Silence, a gentle breeze brushing the exterior as always, a hope to bury away the past.
Nightbird transformed, finding Viper standing still. “Once I begin, I cannot go back. Think of your choice Nightbird, I know the consequences of my actions.” He came closer to the observatory as the ninja watched, remaining still.
The Cobra prototype slammed his body against the large building, causing it to shake. He rammed into it a few more times, breaking away the concrete and storming into the building. Something shattered, it must be where they are! Viper prowled into the hallway, kneeling down to ensure he wouldn’t damage his wings.
Sue and Jack ran, a broken mug lay on the floor as the alarms blared. A large shadow emerged from a hallway, causing them to hide in a spare room. Lying on the walls were a few guns, a pitiful attempt to save themselves, but what else could they rely on? Faraway help? They waited in the darkness, holding onto each other and weapons as their ears rang. Hearts racing faster once seeing blue staring back at them.
“Sue and Jack Richards, Triple I, you've chosen a grave mistake for both Cybertronians, and me. The atonement is death.”
Sue fired a few shots at the mech's face, each bullet bouncing off of the mouthplate. The gun slipped from shaking hands, as Jack tried firing back, but with no effect. “Please, don’t do this! We have a nephew who always visits us!” Sue gripped her husband’s jacket, tears coming down the wrinkled face.
“Then he’ll understand.” He aimed the gun, shooting the two with a powerful blast of acid. Emotion drained from blue optics as they screamed. Bodies melting down into puddles of decaying flesh. A rush of energy came to the mech once hearing nothing but alarms. Without warning, he tore through more of the observatory. Acid gun put to use getting rid of everything. “What do you think Cobra Commander!? Do you believe me to be a failure now!?” His roar echoed through the bleak sky.
Nightbird remained still, staring as the building melted into concrete and steel puddles. Yellow noticed the mech walking up to her. She stared up at his optics, finding nothing but a blank blue. “We need to leave before the humans get here.” The femme transformed, driving across the mountain range.
Viper glanced back before running over to the edge of the cliffside and transforming. Soaring through the darkened canyon, dark blue blending in with the darkened oranges. That’s it, no way back once the candle burned bright. A flame that will never die. The flier followed yellow headlights as she swerved across the mountain's paths. In the distance, bright red and blue lights glowed through a known road. ::We’ll need to find a place to hide, I can see the humans coming this way!:: He messaged her.
::I’ll find my way down, we can’t hide here! Go get to somewhere safe and message me when you do!:: She kept driving, never speaking as the Rattler vanished in the night sky.
The ninja femme touched the ground, sprinting away before the vehicles could find her. On the enhanced tires, she didn’t strain under the pressure. A rush of wind graced her back, must've been the human vehicles driving by. So they were going that way too. Nightbird stared at the large puffs of smoke from what remained of the building. Viper did this, but its for a greater good, was it?
After roaming through the darkness, she’d soon slip into a hidden cave. She took a few minutes to relax, then noticed a small fire in the larger part. Nightbird crawled in, finding Viper illuminated by the reds and oranges. Blue optics staring up at an opening in the ceiling.
“I got worried the humans found you.” Not a sign of damage on him, so strange since he’d went through a mess earlier. A bit dusty, but nothing wrong with that. She sat down on the other side, tossing him a cube.
“They’re not meant for speed, they're for emergencies. I’m amazed at how fast they were to arrive, we need to find the best time to get out of here.” The femme leaned back, exhaling a deep vent. “We’ll need to wait until the event dies down before we can head over to our next destination. Do you know where we will go?”
“I’m thinking about it, since the other targets are in further parts of America.” He brushed off the dust, blue optics glimmered alongside the fire burning bright. “You’d better get some rest, you’ve been driving everywhere to tag along with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens.” Viper waited, putting his gun down.
“What about you? Weren't you the one who destroyed the observatory in one swoop? I'm sure none of them will find us, they're too concerned about the two who died. How many more do we need to hunt down?”
“A few more, they kept it a secret. The document states how eight made contact with the Cybertronian on that fateful day. Two are dead, leaving the rest still hiding in their regular lives. Most are in America, yet two aren't. We'll find them, but must keep secret, because the Autobots will find out.”
“But once its over, we'll return to the others, won't we?”
“Depends on if I can survive long enough. But, if I do die, then I will be okay with that once their dead. I do wonder though, will I go to the Allspark? I am human made, wouldn't Primus consider me to not be one of his? It makes me wonder if there is an afterlife for me.” He opened his chest, showing the lack of a Spark.
“I'm sure there is, don't you remember what Starscream said? He saw something after death, and is alive with us now to tell us.”
“He wouldn't stop talking about it, after the death of Unicron.” Viper looked up, hearing the sirens get louder. “Looks like its time to rest.” The mech grabbed a clump of dirt, dropping it over the flames and letting them die down. “We leave as soon as the morning comes.” He lay down, dimming the lights on his armor and entering into a soft recharge, closing the chest.
Nightbird stared before following his orders. She kept to the shadows as the investigation began further away from them. “Six more, you're quite risky to do this.” Came a soft chuckle before joining him in the rest.
Darkness, that's how life begins, doesn't it? Something strange is happening. Whirling machinery, a rush of Energon, dripping, praying, is this where life comes from? Its quiet, what is this? A dream? But, I can't have dreams, I'm not real...
Someone's calling for a name? What is this name? Who's name is it? Why can I hear it? I don't remember it...
My optics opened up, I don't remember this. I'm not at the Cobra base? Its some sort of lab, but not one I recognize. I sat up, taking in my surroundings. Its all Cybertronian, no sign of humanity's work. What's going on? My helm moved down to my body, no. Its not mine! I got off the table, shaking before finding other mechs staring at me. All seemed to be joyous at the sight of my movements. Some came closer to me, speaking about their troubles and what they hope my awakening will mean. If I can concentrate enough, I should be able to move, or speak. Why can't I do this? My controls are gone, I'm lost in this mech's body. Why aren't I scared? This is a dream, I'll wake up when my processor decides to. But, pure Cybertronians can dream, I'm a fake, I can't dream.
A mech came up to me, bearing blue and white armor, a grand smile on his face. He seemed to be talking, but under deaf audio receptors.
Everything flashed white, I now faced an open door to Cybertron? Its golden, much like the mysterious cities of gold on Earth. Cybertronians walked in the streets, speaking among themselves. None bore any symbols, speaking of their lives. I watched this dream run far from the door, exploring this new world. Life, I felt alive, that this was me. No, what I saw wasn't who I am. I will wake up, then forget. Yet, I wished I lived in this Cybertron before the war. Everyone's in union, its so different compared to the one I stepped upon. Gold glimmered alongside the orange lights. If I was human, I would've shed tears upon sight of this marvelous wonder.
Another flash, taking me away from the rushing views, I'm staring up at the stars in some sort of crystal garden? Its so beautiful, much like the sky when I first awoke. They glimmered among the stars, leading me to wondering why I'm here. Then, someone came into view. She stared at me, or this body I'm residing within. A rush of something came back, I couldn't recall why I felt this way, yet, I wanted it to last forever. The femme spoke to me, yet I couldn't hear what the words meant. I wanted to know what this meant, it hurt so much. She's... pretty, I like how she looks in those soft colors. She smiled, cupping this body's cheek, meaning no visor or mouthplate. But, it faded away to white... Wait, don't go! I want to know who you are, who this body belongs too. I'm not real, I'm an imitation... Please, stay...
Blue lights came back online, finding himself in the cave. Nightbird is still asleep, a dream. Yet, what was it about? What body did he see himself in? He lowered his helm, noticing the sounds of sirens are gone. They must've chose to wait for the morning to inspect for the damage. Optics inspected the opening of the cave above, finding glimpses of morning. Its' time to go. He crawled over to the femme, holding her shoulder.
“Wake up Canary, we've got to go before they find us.” He muttered, causing her to stir.
“Ah, so they're gone?”
“Yep, we don't have to worry about them for a while. Gotta get going now before they come back. Our next stop is over in Florida, so I hope you brought your sunscreen.” Viper chuckled, earning a glare from the femme.
“Don't make me report you in for that.” Said with a playful gesture before leaping up onto the ground above.
Viper jumped up as well, soon the two were off again on their long journey. Yet, in this morning light, it brought back the sight of Cybertron when it bore gold. At first, it wasn't good to dwell on strange dreams, yet, now, he wanted it more. How he craved to step into that other mech's life, how he wished it was his. But, life proved to be cold and cruel, leaving him to lash at those who lost trust. Yet, Nightbird so far, she seemed nice, but no one can tell if a ninja has other motives until revealed later. For now, its best to keep his guard up, and prepare himself for the next target of his past.
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plumblossomkun · 5 years
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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷:「𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 / 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎?」
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word count: 3.5k
setting: student!Taeyong x writing assistant!Female Reader, University!AU
warning[s]: none for this chapter besides some angst. later chapters will have more sensitive topics and they will be mentioned. 
chapter summary: in which Taeyong reminisces & tries to forget, but doesn’t stand a chance against the stars & their song. or, in which Taeyong & y/n meet again under the same sky, after years apart.
a/n: this is heavily inspired by Love Deluna; a big thank u @starxblossom for the help on this fic, which is VERY loosely based on something between a boy & me that began sweet. here is chapter one, as inspired by my messy [love] life. 
READ ME: this story will contain a LONG series of chapters :) i will italicize flashbacks in their entirety & indicate any changes in scene or point of view in bold. furthermore, chapters will alternate between Taeyong and y/n unless otherwise indicated.
other tags: @bunny-doyounq! enjoy~ ♫ 
moodboard | playlist | main masterlist | a map of the campus | extras | fun facts
previous | next
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Exactly 4 years ago—
“What are you looking for?” he asks, leaning into her so that their shoulders are barely touching. She stares up into the dark, cloudless sky, eyes focused on something he cannot see, painted coral lips slightly parted.
He wonders if one day he’ll feel them against his skin, instead of the winter breeze. Instead of the knowledge that her heart is somewhere else, has always been somewhere else.
“The stars,” she replies, abandoning her search in favor of looking sideways at him with a faint smile. Her gaze is distant, though, and it feels like something sharp has lodged itself in his gut, because he can’t remember if she’s ever really looked at him. “I love the city lights. I really do. But I want to see the stars, I want to see the sky covered in them.”
And then her eyes turn back to the heavens.
He wishes he could anchor her, bring her down from the clouds— but he knows she won’t let him. At least, not as they are. 
Not as he is.
So, instead, he places his hand on top of hers, the words he really wants to say stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat, threatening to choke him as he assures her, “We’ll go somewhere you can see them, someday.”
Someday, when I return, he promises silently.
She looks at his hand, then at him, and her voice is tiny, barely audible when she asks, “How far?”
He sees the glimmer of fear in her eyes, and takes his hand away, missing the warmth of her even as he does so. But he knows better than to linger too long and spook her. 
“As far as you want.”
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Now —
Daly City, CA
 —in one word, home
How many moons has it been, since he last set foot in this tiny city, engulfed in a sea of fog pierced only by the headlights of the Model Y Teslas that speed away towards the skyscrapers of the big city to the north?
Too many.
And yet, though he’s returned to the place he’s loved most out of all the homes he’s forged, he feels like he is about to make the second greatest mistake of his life. 
He scales the moss-lined steps leading up to the park from the main road, relishing the way the sounds of traffic are muffled by the towering, groaning pines. But when he steps off the uneven dirt path, his heart drops a little when he digs his heels into the earth and finds that the soccer fields have been filled with fake grass and rubber dirt.
He shuffles towards the library, passing through the playground and its vacant swings, sparing a wistful glance for the sand pit, which is filled with mud and litter and not a single child to dig through it. It’s early, the sun hasn’t even started to peek its head over the horizon, but he remembers when he was a child, the seesaw was always creaking away, and the swings were never left unoccupied.
The jingle of a bell lifts his chin from his chest, though, and he sucks a breath in between his teeth in disbelief. There’s no way it’s the rickety old ice cream truck that used to come around when he was a kid, the one with the smiling old man and his wife.
And he’s right, though he’s never wished more in his life that he was wrong. 
It’s a cluster of kids on their bikes, ringing their bells like mad and whooping as they zoom through the parking lot, past the basketball and tennis courts that have always been worn and gray, but seem all the worse for wear without the thud of shoes against the cement to fill the spaces in between the groaning fences. 
He shoves his hands in his pocket and walks back to his car, shoulders heavy with the knowledge that the world he left behind was not untouched in his absence.
You included, though he knows better than to think you’d be waiting for him. You would never have looked back, not when he’d left like that, without warning, without so much as a goodbye.
You probably hate him for it.
So he gets back into his car, grits his teeth, and promises himself, later, he’ll forget about it. He’ll start at a new school, make new friends, focus on his classes, and act as if the past doesn’t still have its claws in his heart. 
Later, he’ll pretend he doesn’t miss the days you’d sit at the top of those steps and drink Arizonas together, wasting the hours until the sun set and you had to decline call after call from your overprotective father, insisting you come home because it was getting too late.
Later, he’ll unpack his boxes at the university apartments, and thank his parents for leaving out the pictures of you and him.
But for now, he grips the steering wheel and takes the I-280 south, all four windows down, using the roar of the autumn wind to drown out the voice inside that says he’s made a mistake, coming back home to California. The voice that insists he came back not for a new start, not because his parents insisted he finish his education abroad, but to see you again.
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Santa Clara, CA
— the place you imagine when you think California vibes.
“You know, Taeyong, you didn’t have to come all the way from Korea to bring me flowers.” Johnny eyes the bouquet of violently pink hydrangeas that Taeyong has just produced from the passenger seat of his car like they’ve offended him. “These are pretty, but you know I have allergies, right?”
“They’re not for you,” Taeyong snorts, lifting his computer tower from the backseat with a grunt. “Can you grab the other box from the back?”
Johnny grabs the storage box filled with peripherals and shuts the trunk. “Who else would they be for?”
“My mother told me your mother was visiting.” Taeyong kicks the door closed and locks the car twice, holding his beloved computer tower close to his body and the flowers under his arm. “And that we’re getting lunch together, apparently. Also, since when have you been allergic to flowers?”
“Since I saw these.” Johnny wrinkles his nose at the flowers. “And we’re not eating on campus— I never thought I would say this, but I am sick of burritos.” He shudders as he taps his ID to the scanner at the front entrance, and holds the door open as Taeyong tiptoes through, careful not to trip over the door frame. “There’s a good Korean barbecue place in San Jose, ten minutes out from here. Mom’s checking out the stationery store at Santana Row, said we can call her when we’re ready to go. Have you toured the campus yet?”
Taeyong laughs. “No, I haven’t had the time to look around—”
“Seriously?” Johnny purses his lips in an exaggerated pout. “Okay, come on. Let’s put this stuff away, and I’ll show you around.” He ushers him through another set of double doors, past a small expanse of grass complete with a volleyball net and red flowers draped across a wooden pavilion, shining steel grills polished and ready for the next Sunday playoffs, to the ground floor apartment of a building on the opposite side of the complex.
Taeyong can’t help but already imagine himself sitting on the grass, when he has time after classes, taking the time to watch the sun sink below the rooftops, coffee in one hand and music filling his ears. He can imagine himself mapping the skies, searching for stars.
He catches himself there, shakes his head at his own foolishness. “Lee Taeyong,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair, “this is no time to think about stargazing.”
“Stargazing?” Johnny echoes, emerging from the bathroom with his hands still a little wet, waving them about to dry them. “We have an observatory, if you’re interested in that.”
Taeyong tries to act like the idea hasn’t excited him, bending down to tie his shoes to hide the grin splitting his face. “We can check it out if it’s not too out of the way, I guess.”
Johnny chuckles, closing the door behind him. “Of course. Last and least on the list.”
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Palm trees overlook the majority of the campus, leaning low over the buildings and casting long shadows along the pavement. And where there isn’t red or gray brick, there is carefully curated grass, neatly clipped hedges, and collections of too-perfect, too-saturated flowers highlighting each walkway.
It’s a little artificial, a little unreal, but Taeyong can’t deny that, with the afternoon sun beating down on his shoulders, casting golden light without a single wisp of fog in the air, and a slight breeze nipping at his fingertips, it feels like a slice of paradise, straight out of the movies.
Near the end of the main road, Johnny points out a pastel rainbow of roses that lead to a side path that wraps around the church, under a canopy of vines and branches and ornately wrought wood. “I like to come here instead of on the quads; it’s quieter. Some people even take wedding pictures here when the weather is nice.”
Taeyong spots a bench a little ways down the path, surrounded by roses— the perfect spot to take a picture, one to remember his first day back under the California sun. 
When he turns back to ask his friend to capture the moment for him, Johnny is already motioning for him to hand over his phone, a knowing smile playing across his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to take a photo earlier.” Taeyong laughs, brushes rose petals off of the bench before he sits, squinting as he finds a spot that is both well lit and doesn’t have the sun blazing directly into his eyes. “This is too pretty to pass up.”
“Ready?”
Taeyong nods, smiling chastely into the eye of the camera.
“Okay, three, two, one—”
Click.
“Another pose~ three, two, one—”
He adds a peace sign. He knows his mother will definitely ask for one of him and Johnny later, and makes a note to take one at lunch.
Click.
“Last one, look sexy, Taeyong-ah, say mwah for the camera~”
Taeyong bursts into laughter at that, but Johnny snaps the picture anyway.
Click.
“That’s the candid I was looking for,” he says, clearly pleased by his work, handing Taeyong’s phone back to him. “You look good.” And for all his teasing, Johnny is right about the photos— he looks sun-kissed and happy. Nothing like how he’d felt earlier that morning.
He takes a deep breath, taking in the rich scent of the roses around them as the church bells sound, signaling noon. He gathers a handful of pink petals and marvels at their unmarked, silken beauty. “I feel good, too.”
“What did Seoul do to you?” Johnny asks thoughtfully, looking him up and down as if this is the first time he’s really looked at him all day. 
Taeyong tosses the petals in the air with a chuckle. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when we were teenagers...” Johnny snaps his fingers, looking for the right words. “You look like you know yourself better. Is that it?” A girl’s wail splits the air before he can answer, followed by the pitter-patter of quick footsteps. “Excuse me, I’m laaaate—” 
Taeyong steps aside automatically, and as the girl runs past him, long hair whipping him in the face despite his quick reflexes, he catches a whiff of summer, of wildflowers, jasmine, and something of the ocean breeze.
And while he doesn’t recognize the perfume, his heart sinks when he realizes he does know that voice. 
Your voice.
His phone drops from his hand, and he jumps to his feet.
There’s no way.
Luckily, Johnny snatches up his phone before it hits the ground, and when he sees the expression on Taeyong’s face, leans in front of him with a concerned look, waving a hand to catch his attention. “Whoa. You good, buddy?”
Taeyong’s eyes don’t even register the movement. He presses a hand to his chest to check if his heart is still beating, and has to sit down on the bench again, because he is shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane. 
He feels like all the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the bones in his body have suddenly become hollow and thin like glass. “I… was that...?”
Johnny follows his gaze, staring at the back of the girl who is still rushing down the path. “Oh...” he exhales, craning his head to get a better look. “Oh.”
Slowly, he nods his head, and the confirmation is like a death rattle to Taeyong. “I heard she was here, but, you know... I didn’t really go looking.” 
Johnny places a firm hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, and his voice is gentle when he reminds him, “You shouldn’t either.”
Taeyong closes his eyes and shakes his head, because after all this time, despite the years he’s spent under a different skyline— here you are— here—
The thought chokes him. It wraps icy fingers around his heart and crushes it, crushes him. 
He can’t remember the reason he left, only that it wasn’t right, only that he should’ve stayed.
And though he has only caught a moment’s glimpse, shared a single breath, he can’t deny it, he hasn’t changed at all.
He is still the same boy, praying that a flower that lives for starlight will bloom for him instead.
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6 and a half years ago— 
Taeyong did not want to attend Winter Ball— in fact, he would rather have eaten dirt—  but Yuta and Ten ended up buying him a ticket anyway. He had tried to escape after the last bell, ducking towards the door before the teacher had even dismissed them, but Johnny locks an arm around his shoulders before he can escape.
“You can skip every dance after this one,” he bargains, clicking his tongue, and drags Taeyong down the street to his house to lend him clothes for the night. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Live a little. Dance a little.”
“No, it won’t,” Taeyong grumbles, but puts on the white collared shirt and black tie ensemble anyway, Mrs. Suh cooing “So handsome!” a thousand times at them as she snaps photos to keep in her newly-bought scrapbooks, before ushering them out. “Be back by midnight, okay?”
And now, he plays the wallflower in the small gym, watching in faint amusement as the people dancing freeze in confusion as they try to guess at what song is playing next, the DJ’s transitions between songs awkward and stilted. Despite that, towering over everyone in the very heart of the crowd, Johnny dances like there’s no tomorrow. Yuta and Ten had tried to get him out there, too— they had tried to drag him, princess-carry, and Yuta had even tried to throw him— but Taeyong isn’t in the mood to dance.
A flash of silver catches his eye, and he momentarily forgets that he is supposed to be uninterested in everything that the evening has to offer.
A girl strides towards him, sparkling white glitter sliding off her collarbones like someone has poured starlight on her, refracting tiny pinpoints of light onto her face. She is smiling, and her cheeks are a deep shade of rouge, but her smile is more like a lioness baring her fangs, and the rest of her expression is cold and hard. 
Her lips purse as she stares at the half-open door to his left, and the wind whispering behind it. She pauses in the doorway, gaze flicking back to the crowd.  And then to him. 
When she sees that Taeyong’s looking back at her, her expression lightens, the corners of her eyes crinkling in true mirth. 
And then she’s gone, the door swinging shut behind her with a sigh.
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He finds her perched on the railing outside, on the balcony that overlooks the entire campus, watching the last snatches of day start to die away. She turns as he approaches, the light on the horizon line pooling around her, framing her figure in gold and scarlet. The breeze bites at his cheeks, and her midnight blue chiffon dress clings to her body, but unlike him, she does not shiver; instead, she leans into the icy caress of winter like it is an old friend. 
So when her eyes burn into his, he is already half-convinced that she is some ethereal creature. He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes her head, as if the sound of his voice will break the spell she’s cast, one that blurs the noise behind him in favor of the shifting world before him. 
A wry smile curls her lips, like she’s laughing at some unspoken joke, and she pats the railing next to her, inviting him to join her in the moment.
Mutely, they watch the sky until it darkens and the northern star has begun to twinkle, the last murmurs of gold plunging below the school buildings. So much time passes, in fact, that when she suddenly takes a deep breath, consuming the night air like it is her lifeblood, it startles him, and he almost falls off the railing into the uneven hedges below them.
She laughs aloud then, and says, in a low, almost husky voice, “Are you afraid I might bite?”
His brain fizzles as he tries to think of something to say that isn’t stupid. He settles for the truth. “You look like you might just fly away if I come too close.”
She looks startled, like she wasn’t expecting him to respond with those words, and then shakes her head, that same mysterious smile curving her lips. She tips her head back and lets the wind comb through her long hair. “I wish I could fly. Don’t you?”
He thinks about it, looks up into the sea of gray clouds filtering the moonlight into ivory shards. “Maybe. Where would you go, if you could?”
She leans back a little too far and loses her balance for a split second— and he instinctively reaches out to catch her, gripping her hands in his. 
Her hands are small, and freezing, but still, they do not shake. Her heartbeat thrums against his palms, and she laughs breathlessly, the noise dragging his eyes up to meet hers. 
He can’t help but flinch; her gaze is filled with stone that had not been there a second before. It does not soften until she has extracted herself from his hold, and the cold railing is the only thing they share in common. 
Only then does she answer his question, clearing her throat. When she speaks this time, her voice has lost its airy quality, becoming sweeter, softer. He loses himself there, and openly stares at her, awed by— everything about her. “I think I’d see if heaven existed,” she breathes, reaching towards the stars, cupping the curve of the moon within her hands. “Go as high as I could until my lungs cried out for mercy.”
She slips down from her perch, lighting down quietly on the hard cement. On level ground, she is quite a bit shorter than him, and yet he feels intimidated by her proximity when she leans towards him, face impassive as she studies his.
“What?” he asks, jutting out his chin in challenge.
The girl rolls her eyes, unimpressed. But whatever she finds in his expression, she clearly doesn’t dislike because she says carelessly, tossing the words out at rapid-fire speed, “I’m going to go find a better view, and real food. Feel free to tag along, if you want.” 
And then she’s walking away before he can even accept the invitation, tugging off both her heels in one fluid motion and dangling them off of her shoulder as she starts heading down the five flights of stairs leading down to the main entrance, completely barefoot and humming a tune he does not know.
He looks back at the gym. He doesn’t see Yuta, or Ten, or Johnny through the glass— in fact, he’s sure they won’t notice him leaving, either, not while they’re dancing— so he makes his choice. 
He can be back by midnight, if he keeps track of the time.
“Wait—” he calls after her.
She pauses, and their gazes lock. For a split second, something flickers to life in her eyes, summons a peal of laughter from deep within her throat. She licks her lips, head tilted up towards him, and he understands it then. She is lovely, and the moonrise suits her, but she is no ethereal being, no angel, no goddess.
“Catch me if you can, then.” 
Still— he can’t look away.
He can’t help but chase after her.
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a/n 2.0: feedback of all kinds is appreciated! ♥ luv y’all
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queennicoleinboots · 4 years
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Office Woes, part 1 (Michael the Great Arc Angel POV)
It was yet another day amidst a pandemic of the Coronavirus and spiritual warfare. It was my appointed task from Ahayah, the true creator of this world and all worlds, that I was to protect and serve the people of Gwinnett County, Georgia. I also was appointed to protect the people of Walton and Clarke Counties by Xara Nahara Campinelli. I am honored to be Michael the Great Arc Angel.
Once again, I spent my morning flying over people who had no concept of how to drive. They were going the wrong way through the intersections, shoving their cell phones in their butts while driving, and playing rap sounds. Rap is not a form of music. It offends me and Ahayah. When I hear it, I burn the source of the sound with laser eye beams. If I hear the "Ooh shit! You Got Coronavirus" song one more time, I plan to stomp on the vehicle where the car is coming from and of course spare the life of the son of a bitch who played that song.
In other news, a goat in a suit and tie was jacking off while he drove. He looked like Paul the Goat, the same goat who helped with quality control of produce in Kroger later that day.
At least Gwinnett County drivers weren't as terrible as those in Conyers, GA. It was truly the city of apes. Every time I fly over that city, my Intelligent Quotient drains from my mind and soul. I have to walk tall among the apes because my large angel wings don't work there. I question my angelic nature when I am there. I am the man on the fence who shrugs his shoulders. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. So I acted like an ape until I could fly again. I'm still in therapy with Ahayah about that issue. I go twice a month.
I arrived at the office in my majestic splendor. The cops and I saluted each other as I walked in the building. Goats, humans, arc angels, and bears were processing paperwork and bitching at the pigs who did dispatch. I had to process the paperwork, call Paw Patrol, a series of small dogs who were good at life, if any social services were required, and sing if any babies or mothers were upset at or around each other. My baritone voice calms down the general populace.
"Good morning! Good morning!" Ned, a short goat with glasses, brown curly hair, and a white shirt with a pocket protector, shouted. He bleated.
"Good morning. What's the situation?" I asked as I walked with strength to my desk.
"Gwinnet County hasn't burned to the ground yet. Melissa is late for work. La Bamba in Walton County is running a special of five tacos for five dollars. Ricky Valens hasn't been brought back to life to sing 'La Bamba.' Satan still thinks he is going to win the spiritual war going on outside. And BLM hasn't been summoned yet. CERN is still at large opening portals to hell. Edward Snowden is alive and in prison. We still have no access to the Vatican's telescope on Mount Graham in Arizona," Ned took a deep breath before continuing. "And the son of a bitch delivery boy from Grub Hub spilled my drink on the desk."
"Very good. I authorize a pardon for Melissa's lateness. She is at a meeting with Ahayah. I think it's about female stuff," I spoke, but then shouted. "WHY THE FUCK HASN'T RICHY VALENS been brought back to life? He is supposed to sing a cover of 'Earth Angel' at NOON!!!"
"I'm sorry. The pigs at Dispatch are fucking up the resurrection spell!" Ned shouted.
"AAAAHHHH!!!! Ahayah, guide me! I need the voice of Richy Valens! I need to practice singing so that the 'Earth Angel' can bless Georgia," I shouted.
All of a sudden, I heard "Oooooooh Donna!" come out of my mouth in Richy Valen's voice. I sang "Donna" to calm the pigs at Dispatch and to the children who needed Child Protective Services.
Melissa the Great Arc Angel flew through the door. Her brown hair flowed in the air as she descended into the office. Her blue eyes showed fury in them. "Sorry I'm late. I would have been later if Richy Valens wasn't singing. Thank you, Richy Valens," she said in a strong voice as she went to her desk. "When are we going to lunch? La Bamba is running a special on five tacos for five dollars, and I'm ready to get my dance on?"
"No problem. This beats working for the Angel of Death for seven years. Those stories are still great to tell at parties. Unfortunately, I had to steal the soul of a Richy Valens fan one time. Did I mention that I was the one who stole the soul of Courtney Love? Her music was okay, but she needed to stay off the drugs," I said as I printed documents for the pigs at Dispatch to deal with. I would hate to be those sons and daughters of possible bitches. "Also, I think lunch will be after the singing of 'Earth Angel.'"
Melissa the Great Arc Angel laughed loudly. "I took the soul of Kurt Cobain. I was singing Nirvana songs for weeks afterward. I'd like to talk about it at lunch," she said as she sent faxes to the Gwinnett County Fire Department. She added a snarky office chuckle.
"Good riddance. Eddie Vedder has a much better voice. I'd rather hear those stories," I said. "Why couldn't you take his soul?"
"Excuse me! Ahayah required him to live!" Melissa the Great Arc Angel said vehemently. "Would you like to talk about our back story to the new hires?" Her blue eyes and smile sparkled.
"True. But still, Kurt Cobain? How about the son of a bitch who is the lead singer if Smashing Pumpkins. That mother fucker is talented," I said. "Also! Back stories are NEVER to be discussed with new hires! George Lucas specifically made that a rule! Those are strictly for the break room!" I slammed my fist on my desk.
"Billy needed to tell his life story on the Joe Rogan show, and NOT to the new hires on set. Sorry, Michael. He and I both have the same question. Is making music really something that has to involve signing your life away to these record labels?" Melissa the Great Arc Angel asked.
"He had no idea what he got himself into until it was too late," I said before the printer jammed. I looked at it before I said, "You son of a bitch I don't have time for this shit!"
The printer was jamming up and malfunctioning.
"Yes, you asshole, you already printed this page," I said to the printer.
The printer then started printing in Spanish.
"Do any of the pigs in this office read Spanish?!" I asked. I understood Spanish, but it wasn't my job to deal with these notes.
The pigs were oinking up a storm as they called the police, firemen, rent-a-cops, sanitation workers, other dispatch offices, and churches.
I sighed. I took the notes to the pigs. Fuck it. They can figure it out.
A female pig linked and looked at the notes. "Ay caca! Otra vez de los hijos! Mama y papa estupidos hijos de las putas!" She started swearing in Spanish at Child Protective Services. Those kids were forced to wear clown suits and make videos to entertain the country clubs in Gwinnett County. I was hot with rage.
"THOSE BASTARDS HAVE PLENTY OF ENTERTAINMENT!!! CHILD CLOWNS ARE NOT ACCEPTABLE!" I shouted. The son of a bitch printer was still jammed.
What I read next was astounding. And I quote:
"An irate woman called the sheriff's department, the fire department, CNN, Fox News, and Todd from Myspace.com. She reported that Publix had moved the 'Whole Golden Kernel' corn 30 feet down the aisle from where it had been for over 20 years. The whole customer base was an outrage and wanted to beat the store owner's ass."
I screamed. "WHY THE FUCK DID THEY MOVE THE CORN????!!!" I shouted. I was so angry at all of this bullshit that I ripped the printer out of the wall and started beating the hell out of it with the sword.
"WHY THE FUCK WEREN'T THE POLICE CALLED FIVE MINUTES AGO?!" a bitchy pig from Dispatch asked.
"Michael the Great Arc Angel is beating the hell out of the printer!" Ned answered the bitchy pig.
"WHY THE FUCK IS HE DOING THAT?!" she asked.
"I DON'T KNOW! LET ME ASK!" Ned shouted. "MICHAEL THE GREAT ARC ANGEL, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU BEATING THE PRINTER?!"
"I'M FIXING IT!!!" I shouted. "Goddamn mudder fudder..." I spoke in tongues at the printer as the reel ended up on the other side of the office. The black ink covered the dark green carpet which had ugly pink spots. The ink improved the carpet.
Miraculously, I fixed the printer and had it in working condition. Now that's what I call Imformation Technology! Orders were backed up, so the papers sprouted wings and flew to their respective desks. Everyone in the office was swearing as they tried to file paperwork. The pigs and bears were using the extra copies of the documents to wipe their asses.
Gabriel the Great Arc Angel burned his extra copies to relieve stress and anxiety. He also hired Peter Griffin for midday beer runs.
A call came in.
"Hello!" I shouted.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you sexually frustrated?" the caller asked.
I sighed and transferred that call to the pigs.
I was filing paperwork and checking E-mails before another call came in. "HELLO!!!" I shouted.
"Hello. Guiseppe would like to speak to you regarding business with the Mafia, Atlanta Chapter!" a guido sang to me.
"GODDAMMIT I TOLD YOU TO NEVER CALL ME ON THIS LINE!!!!" I shouted as I stood up and shot death lasers through my eyes at the wall in my cubicle that permanent permanent burn marks. The roof became temporarily detached from the building.
Ned came in and threw a cup of coffee at me before he galloped out of the office for a break.
I caught the coffee and drank it as I stared at that burn mark. The Guido transferred me to over to the Atlanta Mafia. The leader was a bear who was growling at me.
I growled in fluent bear and explained that there was a restraining order in place, and that those Italian bears were not to contact me. I faxed the documents proving that my loans were forgiven by Ahayah.
"SORRY! I WON'T BOTHER YOU AGAIN! THANK YOU!" the leader bear shouted as he hung up.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH BASTARD!!!" Melissa the Great Arc Angel screamed. "Send the fax to the Gwinnett County Medical Center you son of a bitch! PEOPLE'S LIVES ARE AT STAKE!!!" She was beating the desk near the fax machine.
I sighed, took a deep breath, and did what any responsible Great Arc Angel would do: rip the fax machine out of the wall and bang it against the top of my head several times over.
A black pig who looked like Mr. T just stared at me and asked, "What the fuck are you doing now?!"
"FIXING THE FAX MACHINE!" I shouted before the phone rang in my office.
Everyone else was too busy cussing at whatever to answer my phone. One exceptionally large male pig even screamed, "YES I AM SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT???!!!" So I walked over to my phone while I was still beating the fax machine against my head. Melissa the Great Arc Angel was singing "Part of that World" in Ariel from The Little Mermaid to someone on her phone line.
I answered the phone and started screaming and continued to beat the fax machine against the top of my head.
There was a pause at the other end of the line before a goat bleated.
I bleated, "I'm sorry we haven't faxed over the instructions to the EMTs at the Gwinnett County Medical Center. Our fax machine needs fixed."
He bleated, "That's some bullshit. A man is liberally being suffocated by COVID-19!"
I bleated, "Couldn't I just text the instructions over?" I was all the while beating the fax machine on my head.
He bleated, "I wish. Group texts never work. OH SHIT THE SONG IS PLAYING!"
I beat the fax machine to the rhythm of the "Ooh shit You Got Coronavirus!" song. I even added a dance as I finished beating the fax machine against my head. The damn thing was fixed, so I plugged it back into the wall near Melissa the Great Arc Angel. She was now singing "Poor Unfortunate Souls" in Ursula's voice. I think she was talking about everyone on Earth.
I bleated, "I'll be right over!" I then hung up the phone and flew the fuck out of the office at the speed of Superman. I used to be Superman until an orange female cat named Kissy meowed a great meow and called upon the Heavens in Swamp Business. Ahayah appointed me to answer the call of Kissy Anne Campinelli and gave me the title Great Arc Angel.
As I flew out of the office, a pterodactyl flew in and started screaming her head off. A goat spilled coffee and bleated swear words. That was a typical day at the office. My wings beat against the wind and rain outside. I sighed and flew over cars that were hydroplaning.
One of the cars was playing DarthSydePhineas nerd rap, and as much as I hate rap most of the time, this mother fucker is talented. I can see why Xara and Count Colonel Mac listen to this guy. I wanted to get on the ground and dance, but I had a life to save at the Gwinnett County Medical Center.
Some dumbass in a piece of shit sedan ran a red light in the middle of this storm. He was playing "Yeah!" by DarthSydePhil as he was speeding on the stream road: https://youtu.be/aZ7iZrpB2Lc
"No. Fuck this guy," I said as I sounded like DarthSydePhineas and swooped from the sky and lifted this guy off the road.
He screamed like the little bitch ass bitch he was.
I screamed back. "That's what I think of you. You damn near ran into that 2000 Toyota Tacoma who was rightfully trying to turn left. You're a bitch," I said.
"Am I going to hell?" the bitchass young kid driver asked.
"Not necessarily. It isn't my choice," I said as I flew his ass to the Gwinnett County Medical Center.
"I Spawn, I Die!" by DarthSydePhineas started playing from his radio. I agreed with the lyrics of the song: https://youtu.be/gVq03wz6DeA
"Where are you taking me?" the bitch ass bitch asked.
"To Gwinnett Medical Center. I have lives to save there. I am required to sing "Earth Angel" by Harry Waters, Jr. and Marvin Berry," I said.
"Who the fuck are they?" he asked. DarthSydePhineas was now talking bullshit about Fall Guys, a new video game in which everyone looks like a minion from Despicable Me.
"Musicians," I said before I threw that piece of shit sedan into the heavens. DarthSydePhineas's voice was fading away as his car flew the fuck into the sky. The last thing I heard DarthSydePhineas say "Oh shit. I got screwed!!!"
I descended into the Emergency Room and sang in my full baritone voice "Earth Angel" to an elderly couple that was close to death. It was then noon.
"Earth angel, Earth angel, will you be mine?
My darling dear, love you all the time.
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.
Earth angel, Earth angel, the one I adore
Love you for ever, and ever more.
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.
I fell for you, and I knew
The vision of your love's loveliness.
I hope and I pray, that some day
I'll be the vision of your hap, happiness.
Earth angel, Earth angel, please be mine.
My darling dear, love you all the time.
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.
I fell for you, and I knew
The vision of your love's loveliness.
I hope and I pray, that some day
I'll be the vision, the vision of your happiness.
Oh, oh, oh, Earth angel, Earth angel, please be mine.
My darling dear, love you for all time.
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you."
The elderly couple ascended to heaven. Everyone was emotionally moved by this Code 1 situation, in which sirens and lights were sounding on cop cars around us.
The goat bleated and cried. "Thank you, Michael the Great Arc Angel," he said. "We are distraught. Can you sing songs to calm our nerves so that we can deal with living with this miserable world?"
A goat doctor announced, "They died from Covid-19. We get $8,000 from the federal government, but this situation is still sad."
I sang "Amazing Grace," "We Shall Overcome," "Like A Shepherd Who Feeds His Flock," "One Bread One Body," and "Ave Maria."
After my last note in "Ave Maria," a disgruntled pig called me.
"What code?" I sang in my booming baritone voice.
"CODE 1! A grass monster is attacking Dunkin Donuts in Snellville!" the pig screamed before he snorted and hung up.
I flew out of the Gwinnett County Medical Center and to Dunkin Donuts. A church choir was singing in the sidewalk. I sang a few notes before I damn near ran into Aladdin and Jasmine on the magical flying carpet. I sang a few notes before saying, "This fly zone is for government officials only!"
The grass monster was eating the donuts as he terrorized the customers of Dunkin Donuts.
I flew down in splendor as I flapped my large white wings for effect. My eyes were blue with rage. I stared at the grass monster. "Did you pay for those donuts?" I asked.
"YES! They fucked my order up. They forgot to add the corn to my cornbread donuts. Sons of bitches!!" the grass monster yelled as he ate the top of the restaurant.
"THOSE BASTARDS!" I shouted. "Did you kill anyone?"
"Not yet. Most of those assholes ran out of the building. Fuck them," the grass monster said as he ate the building.
"Good. Fuck them indeed. Anyway, I am heading to a better restaurant for lunch, care to join?" I asked.
"Hell yes. Where?" the grass monster asked.
"La Bamba," I answered.
"Ooooh. I love Mexican!" the grass Monster shouted.
"Let us go!" I shouted as I picked him up and flew out of there. What was left of the Dunkin Donuts building somehow became on fire. It was time for my lunch break. I didn't give a fuck. That Dunkin Donuts was horrible anyway.
We flew up so high in the sky that no one saw us. The grass monster was shouting with joy as we flew in the sky. Our descent was a bit rough. Aladdin and Jasmine were flying in the correct zone on their magic carpet.
"Excuse me! We're trying to get to La Bamba!" I shouted.
"Oh God! We always eat there! I'm trying to find a decent Middle Eastern Cuisine!" Jasmine shouted.
"Dilja Cafe Lounge in Decatur, GA," the grass monster said as we continued our descent into Loganville, GA.
"Thank you! Some asshole grass monster devoured the one we used to go to!" Aladdin called.
"The building tasted better than the food!" the grass monster called back.
We descended in the Loganville Crossing parking lot near La Bamba a few minutes later. I put the grass monster down before I brushed myself off.
He went in the restaurant. After flapping my wings to ensure no grass blades were on me, I walked in the restaurant.
Richy Valens was brought back to life. He was singing "La Bamba" in La Bamba! I hope to Goodness no one was going to say "La Bamba in La Bamba!" PeeWee Herman would be all over that.
Richy Valens's face was deep-faked on Melissa's body. Deep faking is a technology in which someone else's face can be programmed on your body. It's basic, really. I deep-faked Illidan's face on Grom Hellscream's face so many times when I played World of Warcraft, a popular multiplayer massive online roleplaying game.
I ordered the five tacos for five dollar special. The grass monster ordered the loaded nachos. He ate like crazy.
Richy Valens then returned to Heaven after he sang the song using Melissa the Great Arc Angel's body. Her face had returned.
"I'm starving!" she shouted as she stole one of my tacos.
"I PAID A DOLLAR FOR THAT!!!!" I shouted. The roof accidentally flew up from the restaurant. It then returned to its normal state.
"Sorry," she said as she finished her taco and ordered 50 tacos for $50. She WAS hungry.
"You will pay me back by not MENTIONING a back story on this restaurant," I said.
"I wasn't-" Melissa the Great Arc Angel started to say.
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timetravelingheart · 5 years
Text
Consequences Chapter Ten: A.M. Imagine
This is moreso a filler chapter, so I’m sorry if it’s a little boring. Just trying to establish more relationships throughout. 
______
Tessa was certain she was about to lose her mind. 
It seemed like the entire contents of her bedroom closet were scattered all over her bedroom floor, the bed, the chair, and the desk. 
What was an appropriate outfit to wear to dinner with your very newly minted boyfriend’s parents? Did such a thing even exist? She was starting to think the answer was no. 
It wasn’t like she hadn’t met her previous boyfriends’ parents before. She had. She didn’t really count meeting her high school boyfriend’s parents because they had lived down the road from her family’s farm ever since Tessa could remember. She met that boyfriend, Alex, when she was 6 years old. 
She met the parents of her first serious college boyfriend completely by accident. They were moving him into his dorm and she was right across the hall from him. Technically that boyfriend, Dylan, met her father that day as well. When she re-met Dylan’s parents as his girlfriend, it was over a weekend trip they made to their university and they took them out for lunch. She remembered being nervous about that, but it felt nothing like the level of nerves she was currently experiencing. 
These were the parents of Auston Matthews, superstar hockey player for one of the richest sports industries in the world. Even though she tried as hard as she could not to think of him as ‘the Auston Matthews,’ she wasn’t an idiot. She knew how the rest of Toronto saw him. She also knew that his parents were likely prepared to snuff her out and see if she was with their millionaire son for the right reasons. 
Tessa knew she shouldn’t have anything to worry about - him being ‘the Auston Matthews’ was actually almost enough of a reason for her to say no to him in the first place. She wasn’t a gold digger and couldn’t imagine ever relying on a man for money or fame or clout. But how could she prove that to his parents?
It felt like those moments when you walked into a store, buy nothing, and still think the alarm will go off at the front door as if you had stolen something. That was a legitimate fear Tessa had regularly. And this was feeling like that same emotion. 
She needed reinforcements. She needed Lydia. 
__
After calling Lydia in to help her, Tessa was finally ready 30 minutes later. She decided to keep it fairly casual since Auston told her not to dress up. She eventually settled on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and an emerald green fall sweater. It had a high neck and was only a little tight. It felt like a safe outfit and she knew Auston loved when she wore green. Lydia had been a calming presence while helping her get ready, making her laugh and just feel at ease. It was also an opportunity for Tessa to explain her mid-afternoon skating date with Auston when he asked her to be his girlfriend. 
She was now waiting patiently at the restaurant where Auston told her to meet. Originally he had offered to pick her up, but she felt like she needed the drive over to calm her nerves. She was still in her head when the family of three - his sisters still being in Arizona - walked up to her. 
“Tess,” Auston greeted her with a huge smile and a warm hug. She could tell he was excited, and she felt a pang of guilt for how much she had been dreading this moment. He pulled away and sent her a subtle wink, clearly knowing she was feeling a little off. “These are my parents, Ema and Brian.” 
“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Matthews,” Tessa reached out her hand for them to shake, but was caught off guard by Ema ignoring the hand and pulling her into a gentle hug. Brian followed suit. 
“Oh, honey,” Ema smiled kindly, “please call us Ema and Brian. We are so excited to finally meet the girl Auston hasn’t stopped talking about for months now.”
“Months?” Tessa turned to look at a sheepish Auston who was conveniently avoiding her gaze. 
“To be honest, if it wasn’t for Mitch talking about you too, I was pretty certain you were just a figment of his imagination,” Brian laughed at his now beet-red son’s expense. 
“Nope, definitely real,” Tessa laughed, already feeling a little more comfortable. “But I can’t vouch for everything he said about me. And I definitely can’t vouch for anything that may come out of Mitch Marner’s mouth.”
Ema and Brian laughed heartily, already liking Tessa’s sense of humour. 
“Let’s eat, shall we?” Brian gestured to the dining area of the restaurant. 
Once they were seated they continued to make small talk about the weather in Toronto and Arizona, and Auston’s upcoming game that they were attending. Eventually their orders arrived and the conversation took a more personal turn. 
“So Tessa,” Brian started, “Auston tells us that you’re doing your Masters?”
“I am,” Tessa nodded, taking a sip of her water. “I have about a year left if everything goes according to plan with my research.”
“So you’re doing that full time and working with Launchpad?” Ema asked. 
“Yes.”
“She’s also a TA at school,” Auston added, a hint of pride in his voice. 
“Wow,” Brian was impressed. “So you’re a full-time student, a Project Manager, and a TA? How do you have time for all of that?” 
“Honestly, it can be difficult some weeks, but it’s rarely full-speed in all areas at the same time. My research advisor understands my other commitments, so she works with me to develop realistic deadlines for me to submit my research and work. I think I’ve only had one week or two where I had to mark 50 essays, organize the final details and process paperwork for an event at work, and submit a lit review draft.” 
“Was that the week I went by your office and you looked like you were going to murder me?” Auston asked, laughing at the memory. It felt like they had come so far since he had sent her those flowers. 
“Yep,” Tessa popped the ‘p’ sound and laughed along with Brian and Ema. 
“I can’t say that I blame you,” Ema continued. “That’s a lot for one person to take on. You have to be dedicated and organized for all of that to go smoothly.”
“That’s really impressive,” Brian agreed. Tessa smiled thankfully at them, not certain of what else to add. 
“She’s definitely way too smart for me,” Auston laughed, putting an arm around the back of her chair. “She’s thinking about doing her PhD after her Masters and working at SickKids.”
Tessa felt a swoop in her chest at the pride she could hear in Auston’s voice when he bragged about her accomplishments. 
“SickKids is an incredible place,” Brian started. “Auston and I have a pretty close relationship with some of the staff and kids there.”
“Yes, Auston explained that to me,” Tessa started slowly, knowing that it was a sensitive subject. “I am so sorry that you’ve experienced such a great loss, but it is so admirable that you’ve taken that loss and continuously work to turn it into a gain of sorts for someone else. I’m sure those kids and their families appreciate you so much.”
“My brother was an amazing human being and we just want to continue that legacy,” Brian replied, emotion evident in his voice. “Ema and I are also very sorry for your loss. We know how tough that must have been, and continues to be, on you and your dad.”
Tessa sucked in a breath, unaware that Auston had told his parents not just about her existence, but personal stories that she had shared with him. She let out the breath slowly when Ema reached across the table to capture her hand and give it a squeeze. 
“Thank you,” Tessa responded sincerely. When she felt Auston’s hand on her thigh under the table, she turned to give him a small smile and a wink. She could feel the tension in his body, concerned that maybe he had overstepped. She wasn’t upset though; she had learned over the past couple of months just how close Auston was to his family and she wasn’t ashamed of her loss. 
“So,” Tessa turned back to Brian and Ema, “are we at the point in the conversation where I ask you to share some embarrassing childhood stories of Auston?”
__
“Thank you so much for dinner tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews,” Tessa reached out to accept their hugs as the four of them stood outside the restaurant. 
“Ema and Brian,” Ema gently scolded, accepting the hug. She knew there had to be something special about this girl based on the way Auston had talked about her over the past couple of months, and she was right. Tessa was perfect for Auston.  “It was so nice to finally meet you.”
“Yes, we look forward to seeing you again. Do you ever go to any of the games?” Brian asked. 
“Rarely,” Tessa shrugged. “I would like to go to more, but my schedule doesn’t always allow for it. And ticket prices are a little out of this grad student’s budget,” she laughed. 
“What makes you think you’d be paying for them?” Auston nudged her teasingly. “I might not be good for much, but I think I could get you into a game or two, Tess.”
“Well, just make sure you put her near us. I promise I’m not one of those crazy moms who scream at the coaches or refs,” Ema laughed. 
“We should get going though or we will be late for our show,” Brian reached out to wrap Auston in a hug. “We’ll see you back at the apartment tonight, kid.”
“Yeah, sounds good. I’m going over to Mitch’s for a bit, so don’t wait up,” Auston responded, leaning down to kiss his mom on the cheek. “See you guys later.”
“Bye Tessa,” Ema waved as they started making their way to their car. 
Once his parents were out of earshot and view, Auston turned to Tessa and pulled her into a tight hug. He tugged gently on her ponytail, tilting her head back so he could finally place a kiss on her lips. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he sighed when he pulled away. 
“Didn’t think your parents would approve of a little PDA?” Tessa teased, accepting his hand as he lead her to her car. 
“I’m sure they wouldn’t care, but it’s weird,” Auston shuddered as Tessa laughed. “Want to go to Mitch’s with me?”
“Sure,” Tessa handed her car keys over to him. “You drive. What’s going on over there?”
“Nothing big,” Auston took the keys and opened the passenger door for her before climbing in on the driver’s side. “I think he’s just having a few of the guys and their partners over. Thanks for tonight, by the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know I just sprung that on you. I think my mom thought you’d been my girlfriend for a while now, so I couldn’t say no when she asked to meet you.”
“Let’s just say that I’m not the best with surprises, so while this was nice, please don’t pull that kind of thing again,” Tessa laughed, remembering the current state of her bedroom floor because of her stress. “But thank you for wanting me to meet them.”
“They absolutely loved you, I could tell,” he beamed, reaching over to pick up her hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss. “But I’m not surprised. You’re an easy person to lo- to like,” he caught himself before the word left his mouth again. It was much too soon for that. Right? 
Tessa ignored the slip, thinking he probably didn’t mean to say it. 
“So what did your parents mean when they said that they’ve heard a lot about me from Mitch?” she asked, changing the subject. Auston simply groaned, causing her to laugh. His best friend would definitely get him in trouble someday. 
__
“So T,” Mitch wrapped an arm around Tessa’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him as they sat on his couch, “can I call you T?”
Tessa looked at him questionably, mostly just for her own amusement to watch him wait, and finally nodded wordlessly.
“Great, so T,” Mitch leaned in as if he were about to tell her something important, “now that you’re official with my boy, I think we have a few things we need to discuss.”
“Oh really?”
“Mhm, best friend duties and all that.”
“Oh, and all that. Okay Mitch, hit me,” Tessa folded her hands in her lap and sat up straighter, pretending to be super serious.
“Now, since Lydia gave Auston her whole ‘if you hurt my best friend I’ll hurt you speech, I feel like-”
“Wait, hold up,” Tessa held up a hand to stop him. “When did she do that?”
“Eons ago,” Mitch waved her away. “As I was saying, I feel like I-”
“What did she say?”
Mitch sighed audibly. He really wanted to make his speech.
“You’re so stubborn sometimes, T,” Mitch rolled his eyes, still keeping up his serious facade, but Tessa could see the mirth that lurked behind his eyes. “She basically told him if he hurt you, she didn’t care how amazing his thighs were, she’d hunt him down and make him hurt just as much, only physically instead of emotionally.”
Tessa let out a bark of laughter. What?
“Anyway,” Mitch continued dramatically, “I just wanted to say that I feel like I should say something similar, but while I have nothing against your thighs, I don’t think I can say the exact same thing. So, all I’ll say is, please don’t hurt my best friend. He really likes you and I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“That ended a lot sweeter than I had expected,” Tessa nodded, impressed. “I respect your best friend responsibilities, and I will tell you I have no intention of hurting him. I don’t know if you can tell, but I really like him too.”
“Oh, I can tell!” Mitch laughed, giving her a squeeze. “I love you two together. But now you have to be my best friend too.”
“I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I may have to rethink this whole relationship thing,” Tessa started to pull away from him, laughter in her eyes.
“Yep! You’re stuck with me. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he grinned his shit-eating grin at her.
“Mitchy!” William called from the other side of the living room. “It’s your turn!” 
“Call of Duty calls, T,” Mitch leaned forward and placed a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Oh, and if I haven’t said it already, thanks for making my best friend so happy,” he winked at her as he took his place on the other couch. 
As he left, Stephanie walked over and took his spot. 
“Please tell me he wasn’t giving you his ‘if you hurt my best friend’ spiel,” Stephanie rolled her eyes, handing Tessa a glass of water. 
“You know him well,” Tessa laughed. She really liked Steph. Any time they hung out in a group, she was always really friendly, but had enough sass that Tessa never felt like she was just being nice because she was with Auston. She actually treated her the way she treated their other friends. 
“He thinks he’s a lot tougher than he is but I deep down he’s so happy that Auston has found someone like you,” Steph replied sincerely. Tessa’s eyes traveled across the room after feeling eyes on her. She caught Auston’s gaze across the room as he pretended to pay attention to the video games the other guys were playing. He sent a wink in her direction before turning back to the TV. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Tessa shrugged, not sure what to say. Everyone kept telling her that, and even though it was meant to be comforting, sometimes it did make those initial doubts she had resurface. She tried to push them back down though. He asked her to be his girlfriend and she met his parents - he was obviously serious about this and them and her. 
“Anyway,” Steph broke Tessa out of her thoughts, “how would you feel about hanging out with me tomorrow? We could go for mani pedis or to a yoga class or something together?” 
“I’d really like that.”
“Perfect! I finally have someone who I can make fun of Mitch and Auston,” Steph lifted her glass to cheers Tessa. “Welcome to the family, Tessa!”
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